Friday, December 19, 2014

Could Everyone Just Be Quiet?

I'm already sick of the primaries.

You're probably thinking that's strange, it being the case that they haven't begun yet. To which I say, exactly.

A few days back, Senators Ted Cruz and Mike Lee, the dynamic duo of Congressional Stirring Up of Things, made a point of order after the "CRomnibus" bill vote for... some political gambit that I still haven't quite grasped. It wasn't long until Cruz, a potential 2016 Republican presidential candidate, was viciously attacked by conservative bloggers for supposedly giving Harry Reid a window to push through Democrat nominations that he would otherwise have had to forego (a notion which, as far as I understand it, is completely ridiculous). This prompted a Twitter war among conservative writers about "hero worship," "GOP establishment," and "RINOs."

Today, in response to Senator Marco Rubio's impassioned rebuke of Obama's Cuba policy, Senator Rand Paul made very mature and nuanced arguments in tweet form against Rubio's position. Rubio and Paul are, coincidentally, expected to be in the 2016 Republican presidential primary race.

Don't even get me started on Jeb Bush.

When I look at the lower-right corner of my screen, I notice something interesting. The current year is 2014. The primaries don't start until 2016, just over a year from now. Thus, the primaries, while not terribly far off, are not exactly imminent.

Why, then, is everyone screaming their heads off at each other?

I understand that elections don't exist in a vacuum; they take enormous amounts of preparation, which is why potential candidates are currently announcing their announcements about their intent to announce whether they will announce if they're campaigning or not. But for goodness's sake, do we have to be bursting blood vessels this early?

Writing scathing thought-pieces and insulting tweets is one of the more unproductive things I can think of at this juncture. Analysis of potential candidates and debate over important issues are all well and good, but the vast majority of what I see is just vitriol and chest-thumping. Is anyone really going to decide his vote based on what a Senator tweets today, or a conservative news site writes tomorrow? I certainly hope not. It would make the actual campaigns (you know, the ones that haven't started yet) rather extraneous.

I wrote on a similar topic last year, shaking my head then as I do now about the useless nature of this kind of political malarkey. I want to hear what Rubio, Cruz, Paul, Bush, Christie, Walker, and whoever else have to say about principles, issues, and policies, so I can make an informed vote based on how their statements line up with my own beliefs. I want to hear reasonable analysis from pundits I respect on the validity of those statements so that I might better judge them as part of my decision-making process. I don't want to hear more vapid insults. They turn me off immediately and make me disgusted with the entire process. They are not effective (except at increasing blood pressure all around), and they are not convincing.

I look forward to the campaign speeches, advertisements, and debates. The next election will be very important. Until then, I'd appreciate it if we could all just shut up for a while.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

The Tragic, Dangerous Fall of Journalism

Under the Merriam-Webster.com entry for "journalism," definition 2-b reads: "writing characterized by a direct presentation of facts or description of events without an attempt at interpretation." This definition has been skewed in recent years, as activism and intent have found their way into mainstream journalistic endeavors. Still, so-called "advocacy journalism" is still supposed to present facts, things that are objectively true and verifiable, in order to achieve its end effectively.

This no longer appears to be the case.

Rolling Stone magazine published a piece by Sabrina Rubin Erdely about a brutal gang-rape incident on U-Va's campus. It was a startling and disturbing insight into depravity at an academic institution, the ensuing cover-up, and the horrible personal aftermath.

It was not true.

As the Washington Post and many other outlets have explained in great detail, the story is full of holes and represents a tremendous failure of fact verification and investigation by the reporter. Many of the problems would have been forestalled by reaching out to the accused culprits, the fraternity they supposedly belonged to, and many other involved parties. Erdely, apparently, did not make this effort. (Update: it's even worse than it first appeared)

This could have been an isolated instance of an overzealous reporter getting too wrapped up in her own story and overlooking her responsibility to present the truth. Alas, that would be too optimistic an interpretation.

The campus rape piece and its embarrassing collapse represent a distressing trend in contemporary journalism. Increasingly, reporting has been replaced with activism and facts have been replaced with narrative. The question many journalists now try to answer is not "what is true?" but rather "what is the story I want to tell?"

Don't just take my word for it. Read this quote and its source: "Ultimately, though, from where I sit in Charlottesville, to let fact checking define the narrative would be a huge mistake." Rolling Stone editor Will Dana has said that journalists should not "worship the grail of objectivity" and that "we'll write what we believe." And Zerlina Maxwell, in an opinion piece for the Washington Post, said: "Many people (not least U-Va. administrators) will be tempted to see this as a reminder that officials, reporters and the general public should hear both sides of the story and collect all the evidence before coming to a conclusion in rape cases... In important ways, this is wrong. We should believe, as a matter of default, what an accuser says." In that last link, notice the URL versus the headline; "generally" is a stealth-edit from the original "automatically."

The pervading mentality displayed here is that narrative trumps all. If it sounds like it confirms what you believe (or want to believe), then believe it, print it, spread it, take action on it. Don't stop to check what may actually be true, because that would damage the bigger picture, hurt the cause, and, Maxwell claims, harm victims of abuse and oppression.

This way of thinking is not limited to political or social journalism. The #GamerGate controversy, which started over allegations of corruption in gaming journalism, has ballooned into a widespread consumer revolt against "Social Justice Warrior" narratives in video game reviews and coverage (if you're unfamiliar with the issue, this is a good primer, though keep in mind it was written by supporters of the cause). Proponents of #GamerGate claim gaming journalism is tainted with political and social agendas, particularly radical feminism, and its critics have responded with accusations of misogyny.

In much the same way, those who have called for more thorough investigation of the U-Va rape story were accused of "rape-denialism" by radical feminist journalists such as Amanda Marcotte. Calling for adherence to honesty and objectivity is, according to such critics, akin to holocaust denial (I'd link directly to Marcotte's tweets on the subject, but she has blocked me on Twitter).

I could go on and on and on about instances of media bias and activist journalism. Examples abound. What the Rolling Stone debacle and everything else teach us is that when changing reality becomes the ultimate goal in a field that is supposed to depict it, truth is the inevitable casualty. This should frighten anyone concerned with knowing what is real. Jonathan Swift wrote in 1710: "besides, as the vilest writer hath his readers, so the greatest liar hath his believers: and it often happens, that if a lie be believed only for an hour, it hath done its work, and there is no farther occasion for it. Falsehood flies, and truth comes limping after it, so that when men come to be undeceived, it is too late; the jest is over, and the tale hath had its effect..." (from The Examiner No. XIV).

The effects of such falsehoods in journalism are twofold. First, the lie perpetuates belief in the agenda the false story supports, animating proponents of the author's own philosophy through emotional manipulation. It affirms such readers' conclusions on how the world works without prompting them to test and verify their views. People rely on journalism for knowledge, and when it is presented in these poorly founded, subjective ways, it hurts their ability to be rational beings.

Second, promoting falsities actually hurts the causes these activist journalists seek to promote. In the case of the rape story, it creates doubt of rape accusations in people burned by the faulty reporting. When the most heralded evidence of "rape culture" and supposed patriarchal oppression is false, it leads to the conclusion that there is no such thing. It's the classic case of the Boy Who Cried Wolf, only now it's the Journalist Who Cried Injustice. It trivializes real rape victims and makes an important, uncomfortable issue into a political chest-thumping exercise.

This is the cost of an ideology in which ends justify means and perceptions trump facts. Progressive thought is built on the notion of perpetually reconstructing reality, holding nothing permanent or certain, and holding no regard for anything that might stand in the way. When this way of thinking takes over something as important as journalism, disaster ensues.

Hopefully, the fallout from this mess will push reporters, writers, and editors to spend more time investigating the truth and less time constructing a narrative in the most emotionally appealing way. Hopefully, journalism will return to a presentation of facts, and stop being an avenue for personal agendas and vendetta. Hopefully, this once-proud, once-respectable field can be saved.

Given the prevalence of this problematic mentality, though? It might be too late.