Let’s say you work for a news organization and there’s a march or rally in town — a march for, say, women’s rights. Or to raise awareness for LBGTQ+ issues. Or a Black Lives Matters protest. Or a rally to protest an injustice, either locally or nationally.
Should you be able to go? Should you be able to march, hold up a sign, use your voice?
That has been a long-debated topic in newsrooms around the country — whether journalists can participate in rallies, marches, protests and causes and still be able to do their jobs effectively.
More recently, the tug of war has intensified. On one side: old-school journalists and leadership who believe that journalists should never show their political or social leanings. Pulling the rope from the other side: those who believe their professional and personal lives are separate and that they should be judged by their work.
That has been one issue.
But there has also been another: vague and/or inconsistent policies of news organizations about what journalists can and cannot do when not working.
Essentially, up until now, the message in many places has been: Be smart and don’t do anything to compromise the public’s trust. Yet, controversies happen everywhere, such as the Associated Press writer fired for her tweets about Israel and Palestine, a Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reporter banned from covering race protests because of a sarcastic tweet and a Washington Post reporter temporarily banned from writing stories about sexual assault because she is a vocal sexual assault survivor.
Many news organizations still are using policies created years ago, well before the rise of social media. And journalists are becoming more outspoken about what they believe is their right to stand up for causes that impact their lives and their communities.
But one big news organization is taking a step in an effort to see that their policies at least try to change with the times.
This week, NPR came out with a brand new ethics policy that goes farther than most of the traditional mainstream media organizations have gone in cracking open the door to allow journalists more freedom away from work.
My colleague Kelly McBride — who is Poynter’s senior vice president and chair of the Craig Newmark Center for Ethics and Leadership, as well as the public editor for NPR — wrote about NPR’s new policy.
The policy, in part, reads: “NPR editorial staff may express support for democratic, civic values that are core to NPR’s work, such as, but not limited to: the freedom and dignity of human beings, the rights of a free and independent press, the right to thrive in society without facing discrimination on the basis of race, ethnicity, gender, sexual identity, disability, or religion.”
The policy still is a tad vague in certain areas. McBride writes: “Is it OK to march in a demonstration and say, ‘Black lives matter’? What about a Pride parade? In theory, the answer today is, ‘Yes.’ But in practice, NPR journalists will have to discuss specific decisions with their bosses, who in turn will have to ask a lot of questions.”
But, as McBride notes, “This policy confronts the generations-old question in newsrooms: Where does the journalist end and the citizen begin?”
The policy was put together by a 22-member committee at NPR. For many, it was a good step to evolve with the times.
Keith Woods, NPR's chief diversity officer and co-chair of the committee, told McBride that he and others argued that it was important for journalists to keep many of their personal views private. But, he added, “There are things in the world where we are not torn about where we stand. We are against bigotry, we are against discrimination and unfairness.”
But some think NPR didn’t go far enough. For instance, committee member Leah Donnella, a supervising editor at Code Switch, was one.
McBride wrote, “The restrictions on supporting a political candidate or a piece of legislation still feel to her like a shortsighted compromise. If NPR employees were to reveal who got their vote for president, she asked, ‘Is the problem that we are ideologically similar or that people know we are ideologically similar?’”
Donnella added, “I stopped thinking of (keeping my political choices quiet) as an ethical thing to do, I think of it as a somewhat practical thing to do.”
Another question that also crops up often is whether or not journalists can comment or participate on topics that have nothing to do with the beats they cover.
As CBS News and former Washington Post journalist Wesley Lowery tweeted, “I’m for loosening rules to protect individual right to expression. I’m unlikely to ever march — I cover the things I’m passionate about. If I’m at a protest, I’ve got a notebook. But should my friend the music reviewer be banned from marching? I don’t think so.”
NPR is making an attempt to be more clear in its policies and to give its reporters more freedom. But, McBride writes, “Some journalists will find the changes less than satisfying.”
She adds, “They don't answer some of the thorniest questions, like what if a journalist wants to picket an abortion clinic or demonstrate in support of women’s autonomy over their bodies? What about a journalist who wants to express her general support of the Second Amendment? Or a parent who wants to march in solidarity with families and victims of a mass shooting?”
But, McBride concludes, “these guidelines affirm that during this chaotic time in which we are living, being a journalist and standing up for human dignity are not mutually exclusive.”
Next up is to see if other big news outlets follow with updated policies that give journalists the kind of leeway they have never had before.
‘You sound like an idiot.’
