Archive for the ‘Ethics’ category

Reports of her death are greatly exaggerated

January 26th, 2009

Without wanting to seem flippant over this tragic story, I couldn’t help notice something very strange on on the Daily Mail site today.

Headline: Miss World finalist who had hands and feet amputated after being hit by infection dies

Other than being a very good piece of SEO, this headline is also very matter of fact. The Miss World finalist has died.

And then here’s the first paragraph:

A two-time Miss World finalist whose feet and hands were amputated after contracting a drug-resistant infection has died.

Very straight forward there.

Like most Daily Mail stories, there are comments a plenty (probably down to that great SEO). But something about the comments on this story in particular struck me as a little bit, well, strange:

My heart goes to the beautiful girl, what a tradegy! Praying for her speedy recovery!
Leila, Gibraltar, 22/1/2009 16:11

And another:

Beauty is only in the eyes of the beholder. How she fights this and pulls through will show her true beauty, and that’s the real beautiful and strong person everyone will see; not just what’s on the outside, but the fight inside too. I bet she can do it!

And there’s loads more.

Of course, the reasonable explanation for this is that the original story told of a girl fighting for her life. The comments came in. Then, sadly, the girl lost that fight — and so the story was altered. But now the comments come across as rather haunting. I’ve stuck a picture of the comments on Flickr in the event of them being removed.

Presumably the Mail would have wanted to keep the most up-to-date information on one article page, rather than several new articles whenever a story develops. That makes sense. But surely a development as serious as the death of the subject shouldn’t just be edited?

The new way to learn journalism

January 20th, 2009

There’s a very interesting piece in a Guardian supplement today about something they’ve labelled University 2.0.

Annoyingly — and surprisingly, considering it’s the Guardian — the article isn’t online. But not to worry, I’ll quote the bit that got me thinking:

“[Peter Scott (director of the Open University's Knowledge Media Institute)] predicts that students  will soon be mixing their higher education experiences from resources all over the world, choosing to study at Harvard, say, while listening to lecutres from Oxford, taking part in discussion groups at the University of Mumbai, and sitting exams somewhere entirely different.”

Isn’t that great? Pick ‘n’ Mix education. The finest material from the finest institutions.

A date with Greg Linch and Andrew DeVigal

And, of course, this is already happening. A fortnight ago I logged on to Twitter to see Greg Linch tweeting about his imminent live webcast with the New York Times’ multimedia editor, Andrew DeVigal. I’ll pop in and have a look, I decided, not because I was really interested in sitting down for an hour and watching, but because I a) like Greg — our careers seem to run in parellel in some weird way and b) I wanted to see if it was any good.

And boy, it really was. Watch it here. Now while the shot may have been a little dark (owing to the fact Andrew was doing a presentation), it didn’t detract from the viewing. And even when the audio dropped out of sync every so often, it didn’t really matter too much.

Why? Because Andrew was brilliant. Engaging and well-prepared, his ‘lecture’ was more like a Jobs-like keynote… pacing around the room, getting excited about what he does.

And then add to the experience that while this was going on, Greg was popping links into the chat panel so that we could have a go at what he was talking about. For example, when Andrew mentioned the Virginia Tech graphic… Greg popped up moments later with a link. In that respects, this experience was actually superior to actually being there.

Oh Mindy, you came and you gave without taking

Really, she did! And indeed… she does. Constantly. Mindy McAdams, I mean. She puts her courses online so we all can learn. I used them extensively to prepare my work for New Zealand. Not because I was lazy and just wanted to copy, but because I know that Mindy is possibly the best in the world at what she does. How do I know this? Because she puts it all online. So, if the worry from colleges and universities is that free courses will mean no students — I’d argue it means the opposite. If you do a great course, we’ll all know.

Mindy doesn’t stop there. Not content with just plonking course syllibi online, she also makes online content for teaching too. Made for her students, but shared with the world. Want to learn Flash? Take a look.

Let the thinkers do the talking

So, from the practical skills-learning of Mindy, to the theoretical get-your-mind-thinking work of Adrian Monck. I was lucky enough to catch Adrian in Cambridge last year as he introduced his new book, ‘Can you trust the media?’. He is a strikingly nice bloke and, even more importantly, he discussed things that still embed themselves in my head on a dayt-to-day basis. As I established over dinner one night in the company of Martin Hirst and Jim Tucker, a good ethical brain is as important to a journalist as his newsgathering skills.

Adrian shares his thoughts on a daily basis. Offering up links and resources that, in previous years, would traditionally be saved for his students — he teaches at City — tied up in reading lists that are as long as they are tedious.

And then there’s Paul Bradshaw, David Dunkley Gyimah and the brilliant Jay Rosen. What a dream team! Not to mention all the educational journalism blogs out there. 10,000 Words being the best example right now.

Please, sirs, can we have some more?

So all that’s great, isn’t it? Of course it is! You’d be mad to argue that all this information in the open internet isn’t promoting better journalism.

As ever, we can do so much more. At the University of Lincoln, the wisdom-ous Richard Keeble organises a series of guest lectures every fortnight. Past speakers have included the BBC’s Jonathan Charles, Channel 4’s Dorothy Byrne and, the speaker that really kicked off this blog for me, Philip Knightley.

They were all brilliant sessions. With some lively Q+A. Next month, Lincoln will be hosting Will Lewis, editor of the Daily Telegraph. I’m going to try and go. But couldn’t this be streamed too?

I know other universities are holding similar sessions. And I’m sure we’d all be interested in what each place is learning about — so why can’t we share? Why can’t some students at these universities be shown how to set up a camera and stream these guest lectures to the world. I’m sure, like when I logged on to Greg’s feed, we’d have journalism students from all over the world chipping in to ask questions, get involved in discussion and, above all, LEARN.

The great open-source syallabus

In the last month I’ve attended a lecture at the University of Miami, courtesy of Greg, and asked a question to the multimedia editor of the New York Times. I’ve taken a course in Flash journalism — thanks to Mindy — and read about the pros and cons of digital recorders — handy for the future, definitely. I’ve considered the effect of the media blackout in Gaza thanks to insight (and links to other opinions, let’s not forget) from Adrian Monck. I’ve discovered some nifty resources for following breaking news thanks to 10,000 Words. That’s one hell of an education.

Justice for exploited journalism students

December 4th, 2008

Today I was interviewed by Gemma Pritchard, the editor of the Inquirer — City University’s independent student paper.

She was preparing a piece of coursework about students being exploited in the journalism workplace. She’s been in touch with various people — including the NUJ — to discuss the issue.

We came to the conclusion that the problem is becoming very serious — and it’ll only get worse.

So I’m now in the process of putting together a site that will allow student journalists to submit their stories about work experience. I will collate the information on a page, just like on AngryJournalist.

The difference, though, will be that students will be able to tell the site where they were working. This will be kept secret — experiences will not publically linked to the places of work, and viewers of the site will not be able to see which publications/media organisations have been named and shamed.

In a few months time, I will publish my findings. Will we see some companies appearing many times? Will certain complaints be exposed as happening to many students? I’m interested to see which patterns emerge.

In the interest of fair play, students will also be able to submit good experiences. The top three publications will be announced as well.

Why am I doing this?

I’ve seen both sides of the coin. I’ve worked for places that have exploited my eagerness to get work and to get noticed. But I’ve also worked for people who have benefitted my career greatly — and in turn I’ve done some good work for them for free.

Both sets should be made public. Students have a right to be able to tell all when it comes to work experience. Let’s be clear — this has gone way beyond making cups of tea — none of us complain about that — it’s about doing work that is, by UK law, illegal.

Problem is, until now, there has been no way of finding out where the problem really lies. A recent NUJ survey found frightening results, but without specifics, how can anything be done? It’s impossible.

Students are too scared to voice their opinions. Upsetting people can cost you your career — no matter how valid your complaint. This has to change.

Watch this space. If you’d like to help, email me.

Selling the BBC licence fee to the public (and Terry Tibbs)

October 30th, 2008

A few media commentators have used the Brand/Ross fall out to take swipes at the BBC licence fee. I fear it’s a debate that will escalate even more now that Jonathan Ross has been suspended for 12 weeks, an admission that the presenter got it very, very wrong.

I feel I’ll struggle to show objectivity with this post, given my current career developments, but hopefully people who know me can verify that my admiration of the BBC has existed for a long time — not just in the past few weeks.

When I taught in New Zealand, I introduced the BBC website as being the greatest news organisation on earth. Several students expressed their envy at not having such a well-respected public broadcaster on their own shores.

So why do I constantly come across opinion pieces, comments and blogs rallying fiercely against the £131.50 yearly fee? Do we really believe it isn’t good value for money?

The fact that we pay the wages of both Brand and Ross seems to have added an unwelcome fuel to this current fire. Anyone resents having to pay compulsory fees for anything; even something we enjoy as much as television and radio. Surprisingly, though, millions upon millions of us think nothing of paying the fee amount three for four times over to receive Sky Sports. Ironically, if the licence fee were higher, BBC Sport would be able to compete in that arena too.

It’s not often I agree with Noel Edmonds, but a while ago he made a terrific point about the BBC licence fee. Here it is (from the Independent):

Edmonds claimed his one-man protest was against the corporation’s “we know where you are” ad campaigns against those who didn’t have a TV licence, which he argued were threatening.

Spot on my shoddy-shirt wearing friend. The TV Licensing adverts are disgusting. They’re said in the same grumped-up tone as the adverts on benefit fraud. The psychology is all wrong. The BBC shouldn’t just be telling payers that they have to pay, they should be shouting about why it’s good to pay. What am I getting? Where’s the benefit? Where does my fee go?

Fonejacker — brilliant show about, topically enough, prank calling — has a wonderful character named Terry Tibbs. Terry is your old-school business man. And, ridiculous as he is, he could have some choice words when it comes to persuading people that the licence fee is worth it. In one sketch, he says this about buying a car:

“Hang about. Look. We’re not talkin’ money jus yet. Alright? I wanna know a bit more about the car before we get into that. Come on, you gotta seduce me. You don’t just jump into bed with Terry Tibbs. You take Terry Tibbs out to lunch. You wine and dine him. You give him an oil massage, and then he gives you nineteen-fifty, if you’re lucky.”

Now while that may just be an excuse to mention Terry Tibbs in a blog post, I think if the BBC imagined Terry when pushing TV licence adverts, there’d be a lot more enthuasiasm for our public broadcaster.

Rather than: “We’ll find you.” They should be saying: “Look what you’re getting, isn’t it brilliant?”

Yesterday, I visited a friend in Norwich. While I was there, I went to the wonderful new BBC building. In it was a library, cafes, studios… loads of stuff. Around the floor, stalls sold products for charity or small business. It was packed out — on a Wednesday. It’s just one small example of the goodness an organisation like the BBC can bring.

Think of the licence fee as a tax on a nation’s intellectual well-being. We pay tax to keep our roads in order. We pay tax to keep our health service running. Personally, I think a tax that ensures knowledge, entertainment and world class journalism is just as valid. Let’s never forget how important it is.

Sure, you may not like Russell Brand. That’s fine. Millions of people, however, do like Russell Brand, making the money paid for his services justified. The same can be said for Jonathan Ross, too.

I don’t like Cash in the Attic all that much, but I don’t object to my licence fee going towards it because I know many people do.

If we can get the public to understand all the goodness that comes from the BBC licence fee, then the battle to regain faith is almost complete. The first step is some positive fee-related adverts. Seduce me.

Russell Brand: Analysis or overkill?

October 30th, 2008

Wowzers. Take a look at this list of stories on the Russell Brand fiasco, all taken from Media Guardian. There’s 49 in total — and that’s before the inevitable truckload of posts that will follow now that Brand has resigned. I predict we’ll hit the 100 mark by the end of the week.

None of the links I’ve added here have been online for more than four days. Can anyone honestly say there has been this many developments? I don’t think so.

There’s analysis, and then there’s just anal. Enough of this madness.

Web-savvy standup with a licence to thrill and offend
Puerile prank that left BBC stars and executives on the ropes
Suited and booted: fall and rise of a showman
Patrick Barkham on Russell Brand’s ‘Hare Krishna’ chant and temple visits
Georgina Baillie: the Satanic Slut at the centre of the Ross-Brand controversy
Video: Russell Brand quits as BBC radio host
John Harris: What they did was grotesque
Andrew Sachs: profile
Russell Brand resigns from BBC as Jonathan Ross apologises for ‘juvenile remarks’
Video: Andrew Sachs on Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand: ‘I’m not collecting apologies’
Maggie Brown: Suspension is not enough for Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand
Broadcast rules should have saved BBC
In pictures: ‘Sachsgate’ – who’s who in the BBC hierarchy
Media Monkey: more from Sachsgate
‘Sachsgate’ – who’s who in the BBC hierarchy?

Loads more after the jump…
» Read more: Russell Brand: Analysis or overkill?

Why I can never trust travel journalism again

October 22nd, 2008

Trust in the media is something we talk about on a grand scale. The Queen having a strop, for instance, or the uproar over You Say, We Pay on Richard and Judy.

We dissect the issue of trust when there’s been a major breach. But what of the minor ones?

I’ve long since got over the fact that some content is magazines is made up. Those sex stories in lads’ mags, for example, are not really sent in to the title. Rather, some delightfully imaginative staffer pens out some filthy fantasy.

It’s a white lie. A fib. I can deal with things like that, because they’re damn entertaining to read. Not a problem if they’re not true — I’m not relying on Nuts for tips in the bedroom, thanks.

I’m a lot more concerned about something I learned just this week. Over on a forum I frequent, a member posted a dilemma. A press trip to stay in a hotel (for reviewing purposes) was all set to go ahead. Booked it, packed it, etc. But then the magazine folded. The now angry hotel wants the journalist to pay in full anyway. The journalist explains:

“The hotel (a very swanky expensive one) offered three nights on a comp basis half board plus four nights on a media rate.

I’ve promised them I will try very hard to get something placed elsewhere BUT they have come back and said the hotel now wants to charge me the media rate for all seven nights and it’ll only be B&B.

So the stay will now cost me around £600-700 extra. Not good news.”

Not good news at all. But by far the most alarming part of those paragraphs were the words ‘media rate’.

One member shares my concern:

“I might be missing something here but how can you review a hotel when the hotel knows you’re reviewing it?”

To which comes this reply:

“I’d love to be able to review in secret but given my editors aren’t in a position to pay my expenses, the only way most of us can do travel pieces is by being hosted on press trips of one sort or another.”

Which is backed up further by another member:

“Straight hotel ‘reviews’ are pretty rare in travel journalism, really…they’re much more likely to be just mentioned in the fact box, with maybe a name check in the text for letting you stay for free. The nature of the assignments (ie. they would cost several thousand pounds to do) mean that in fact almost everything within travel journalism is paid for by someone other than the journalist.”

Thus rendering them useless, no? If hotel staff know you’re there to review the hotel, you can bet you’ll be getting preferential treatment. Quicker food, the best rooms, friendlier staff. In fact, I bet in the staff rooms they’ll have a list of which rooms have people paying ‘media rate’.

One member points out:

“I wonder how many negative reviews are written by journalists on freebies. It’s no wonder sites such as Tripadvisor are proving so useful.”

Quite. It goes back to a post made by former-Press-Gazette-now-PaidContent journalist Patrick Smith, who questioned the validity of film critics:

“A more extreme and amusing example of obscure film-blurbism Guy Ritchie’s not-awful-but-completely-bewildering Revolver (about gangsters, unsurprisingly). The film was universally panned by critics, yet huge billboards appeared around towns declaring it ”Brilliant…Guy Ritchie back to his best!”

Fair enough if that’s what you think, except that the line is from The Sun’s online film e-zine Film First which had bagged a WORLD EXCLUSIVE interview with the director, as The Guardian pointed out at the time. Private Eye established that the “brilliant!” part of the quote was from none other than The Sun’s Page 3 girl Ruth (she makes a brief appearance in the film).”

Are journalists really going to pan a hotel when they know that if they big it up, they’ll probably get another free trip again soon?

Perhaps more worrying is this scenario from another member:

“I only adored one of the hotels (one was fine but naff, and the other was fine but austere) they only used the one for the hotel I genuinely loved. I still got paid for all my work.”

So not only can we not fully trust motives behind hotel reviews, we also don’t get to see the ones that don’t get a favourable write up. Why is this? If it’s a high-profile hotel which turns out to be a complete stinker, isn’t the press in place to provide the service of warning us?

From when I was in New Zealand, I recall Jim Tucker telling me about how he went around Wellington reviewing restaurants. This wasn’t a press trip, and I’m certain Jim didn’t let them know he was there to review the food. His reviews never saw the light of day. Why? Because he dared to criticise.

We often call for high-profile journalists to declare their interests. In fact, a member of the same forum that I’ve been quoting from here has suggested we produce a national register documenting those interests. Great idea, I say. And, let’s not forget Robert Peston who is being ‘looked at’ because of some of his financial coverage. I believe we’ll find that Peston is merely a brilliant journalist and an astute financial genius, but we just don’t know how cosy he is to the people he reports on.

They’re more serious examples. But why not apply this practice to all journalists? If a hotel review has conducted with the hotel’s prior knowledge, then I think we, as readers, have a right to know this.

TheMoveChannel.com, shame on you

October 17th, 2008

I’ve just seen this on the Journobiz forum. Sadly, someone out there will do this for them. In some ways, it sums up everything that is wrong about the media industry:

TheMoveChannel.com, the leading international and UK property portal, is looking for an editorial intern to assist the property news editor and marketing manager.

We are looking for an enthusiastic and friendly person willing to turn their hand to a wide range of editorial tasks, from compiling daily news roundups, to writing global property features and news articles to sourcing and editing images.

We would like someone with a ‘can do’ attitude who is interested in gaining some excellent experience in online editorial.

Interest in property and travel would be an advantage, but being keen is far more important.

Ideally we would like to find someone who can commit to a period of three months or even longer if possible.

We are based in Shad Thames, just by Tower Bridge, which is close to both Tower Hill and London Bridge tubes.

This internship is a full time position, from 9am to 6pm Monday to Friday, and is unpaid.

Please contact the property news editor Catherine@themovechannel.com if you are interested. We would need someone to start on or around the week commencing November 10th 2008.

Let’s dissect this a little.

The hours — longer than a usual working day.
The experience — Much better get two weeks on a publication people have heard of.
The term — three months?! Even longer if possible? That translates to three months… and then whatever they can get away with until the ‘lucky’ intern gets wise to their game.

Let’s be perfectly clear about this. I’m not against working for free early in your career. But this is not experience, or an internship. It’s work. If TheMoveChannel needs this person that much, they should pay for them.

When the office is messy, do they get a voluntary cleaner? If the toilet breaks, do they get an internship plumber?

No.

I’ve forwarded this on to the NUJ. It’s about time we all put a stop to this outrageous practice within our industry.

Excuse me, Peter Horrocks, but that’s a lie

September 24th, 2008

Yesterday’s shocking events in Finland brought the debate about media censorship to the fore once again.

Peter Horrocks, head of the BBC newsroom, has gone on record on the BBC Editors’ Blog to explains the BBC’s stance on the killer’s YouTube clip:

Our competitors chose to run the full footage of Matti Juhnai Saari issuing his threat “You will die next”, followed by him firing towards the camera and the explosion of pieces of fruit across the lens as his bullets found their target. The BBC chose only to run the verbal thereat, but not the firing or the splattered fruit.

All well and good, you’d think, except this is a lie.

The BBC DID show the full footage, including the firing at the camera. I know this because I saw it. And I know I haven’t made a mistake because of two reasons. Firstly, since I went to university, my Dad cut down our Virgin Media TV package so that the only news channel we receive is the BBC News Channel. Secondly, the news was breaking yesterday at the same time I was doing my blog post about coverage of Brown’s speech. If you read that you’ll see that I was watching the BBC feed for that time.

The shots were shown. I was shocked by them. By the time the six o’clock news had come on, they had censored the clips. But for Mr Horrocks to claim the BBC took some sort of moral high-ground in not showing the clips is simply not true.

The clips were shown. So why lie?

It’s the journalism that counts, not the technology

June 30th, 2008

G’day and Kia Ora from Down-Under. (See… picked up the lingo and everyfink.)

*ahem*

Right, we’re verrrry close to launching the news website that I have built. It’s called NewsWire, and come launch day, you’ll find it right here: www.newswire.co.nz . Until then you’ll have to do with a little coming soon note. Unless you know your way around Wordpress, in which case you’ll be able to load the homepage with a bit of URL jiggery-pokery.

But you wouldn’t do that, would you? It would be like opening window 24 on the 1st of December. It’s just not the done thing.

Anyway. To the point:

I hit a dilemma today. How involved in the web process should my students be?

In a perfect world, they’d do it all. Gather news, write copy, take pictures, record audio, take video, produce multimedia packages and so on. And then plonk it all into a CMS ready to hit the web at the click of a button.

However, we don’t live in a perfect world. Some people won’t get it. It’s not their fault. I can safely say that I could be taught by the artist in the world — but I’ll never be able to draw. Slightly different, yes, but the principles are still there. We have to get used to the fact that not everyone will be able to be an online journalist to the full degree.

But that’s not to say they can’t do some of it.

It’s like when I do radio. I can edit audio, cue clips up, do all (most?) of the technical things. Not to mention all the newsgathering beforehand. Yet, I couldn’t present a sandwich, let alone a radio show. So I leave that to someone else.

For web, what skills should we be insisting students learn at least?

Well, me and my crack team (so that’s myself and two tech-minded students, then), have decided that every student should probably be expected tonewsgather (audio, pictures and video included), and then accompany that raw material with a written article.

Said article should then be loaded onto the CMS (as I said, we’re using Wordpress. A doddle?).

That, the team decided, should probably be it. Students will then email their multimedia to a special Gmail account (for the storage, you understand) for it to be prepared and then uploaded before eventually going live.

The people doing the uploading will be a squad of four. Jim (the program leader), myself (tutor) plus Luke and Aaron — the two tech-minded students.

The process that the normal students won’t get involved in — unless they show a desire to — is cropping and resizing images; cutting, compressing and uploading audio/video; and producingslideshows with Soundslides. And, they will also be spared the hassle of using all the custom field bits of Wordpress that are necessary to make sure our template works correctly.

This is good from our point of view. It’ll mean we get sorted quicker, and content will be clean, consistent and well-produced from the offset.

But am I doing the other students a disservice by not insisting they get involved with the WHOLE procedure?

I’m tempted to run a series of 2-hour workshops on Audacity, Soundslides and Windows Movie Maker (no comments on the software, please. That’s all that’s on offer. And anyway, it’s a good bunch). But in doing so I risk making the whole experience seem too complex and, as a result, very offputting.

For me, online journalism isn’t about what goes on inside the computer. It’s more about attacking stories with a certain state of mind. It’s about knowing that certain stories work better with video. It’s about knowing that audio just HAS to be downloadable if we are to know how that greasy politician really sounded. It’s about seeing news in a way that isn’t just printed or spoken word.

That seems the greater goal: Giving the students that bite for online reporting. Once that’s laid down, the technical expertise can come afterwards — if at all.

Am I right?

Queenie explains the table incident further…

June 5th, 2008

A behind the scenes pic from Dom Post shoot

As I said in my post yesterday, colleague Queenie Rikihana set my mind at rest over the ’sitting on a table’ incident. Anyway, she added this comment today:

Kia ora Dave, I am the (as you know) the colleague aforementioned in the story. Yep, I took those photos of you being photographed (weird I know) by Robert Kitchen of the Dom Post. So ofcourse I saw you perched – with the photographer’s encouragement on the edge of the computer desk. Maori protocol is that we do not sit on tables where people are going to eat a meal. Our class protocol is we do not let anyone eat food in the class room… result no kawa (protocol) being broken. Actually there is something else in play here. You are my manuhiri tuarangi (important visitor from afar) and was(at the time) not aware of our kawa. So no – no offence was committed. It is great having you around – fantastic class involement today – we are very happy to host you short as it will be…  tino nui arohai ki a koe – (lots of love to you)  na Queenie

So there we go … a little more explanation of the whole affair!