Wordcruncher

The Silence Of The New York Times Is Deafening

One of the difficulties inherent with being a journalist is that frequently, one must write on a subject from a largely uninformed view as though one were an expert. That is, often journalists are required to be “an inch deep and a mile wide.”

It is rare enough when journalists are able to report on a subject about which they are the undisputed experts; namely, journalism itself. It is rarer still when a newspaper finds itself as an actor in the landmark political events of our time.

So why won’t The New York Times report on itself?

By journalistic obligation -- indeed, because of the newspaper’s status, for the integrity of the profession itself -- the Times must reveal what it knew and when regarding its and its reporter Judith Miller’s role in the Valerie Plame leak that special prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald is investigating.

The Times has made many statements about this, ranging from the promise of a full disclosure to essentially stating the paper would publish an account when it felt good and ready. Perhaps there are justifiable legal reasons for the Times’ reticence. If so, why not tell us?

One senses something much larger is going on here, perhaps something bigger than even the Times itself. Bigger even than the Times’ role in disseminating weapons of mass destruction propaganda which it knew to be, at best, questionable. In the run-up to the Iraq invasion, Ms. Miller’s dubious reporting created a self-perpetuating echo that rang throughout the American media: “The New York Times reported that…”

It was an echo the Bush administration used as part of its masterful but dastardly manipulation of the Iraq debate. The administration’s war hawks would leak a story to Ms. Miller regarding aluminum tubes, for example, to be published on a Sunday morning. Administration officials -- Vice President Dick Cheney, to name one -- would then fan out to the Sunday chat shows using the Times story as corroboration: “Just this morning, the New York Times reported on aluminum tubes…”

It is embarrassing enough for a media outlet to be duped into advancing a partisan agenda. Perhaps in the rush not to be scooped, the Times may have let slip their usual standards of fact-checking. The paper itself admitted as much, apologizing for six stories -- four of which were written by Ms. Miller, but oddly, not singling out the reporter herself (as it had done in the Jayson Blair fiasco).

In so doing, the Times is protecting itself in a way that would make any senate whitewash committee proud. Journalists should certainly know that the cover-up is almost always worse than the crime. If the Times won’t publicly investigate itself -- committing the unpardonable journalistic sin of letting other papers scoop it on its own story -- others certainly will.

The larger question we deserve to see answered from all of this is: Was there a quid pro quo between “big media” and the administration?

In referring to the Iraq campaign in September of 2002, White House Chief of staff Andrew Card told the Times, "From a marketing point of view, you don't introduce new products in August." The Bush administration knew full well that the most critical battle for Iraq was the battle of public opinion.

Members of the administration -- led most notably by Mr. Cheney -- had envisioned a war with Iraq as far back as 1997. Had this been made public knowledge in a full and open debate on Iraq in 2002 and early 2003, the battle of public opinion may well have been lost; investigative journalists for the major media outlets could use this stated objective as a premise, investigating each of the administration’s claims about Iraq in this context.

It was absolutely critical to throw the media off the scent.

Which brings us to the Federal Communication Commission’s (FCC) deregulation hearings. Under cover of the successfully launched Iraq war, the FCC, led by Michael Powell, attempted to push through deregulation laws that would allow further media consolidation. As Fairness & Accuracy in Reporting (FAIR) put it at the time:

A majority of the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) intends to ratify a sweeping plan to weaken or eliminate rules that limit the size and power of media companies. Among other things, the FCC's three Republican commissioners hope to revoke the newspaper-broadcast cross-ownership rule, which prevents a company from owning a newspaper and a TV station in the same market, and to significantly increase the number of TV stations one company can own.

With virtually no one paying attention, it was thought that Mr. Powell would be able to enact the law with no debate:

Before the FCC voted to lift the media ownership limits in June 2003, Powell refused to make public the 250-page FCC document that justified the move, convening only one hastily assembled public hearing on the media rules change. The Center for Public Integrity notes that during the months leading up to the vote, Powell and his commissioners held 71 off-the-record meetings with broadcast industry executives, while only meeting five times with public advocates.

Fortunately, in a triumph of democracy, this abominable act was exposed and opposed to by interest groups on the left and the right (one of the rare moments when groups such as the National Rifle Association and the American Civil Liberties Union agreed and joined forces). While it passed in committee, congress defeated the measure and in January of this year, the FCC at long last quietly gave up on the campaign.

But note the timing: June 2003, less than three months after the invasion of Iraq began. What was discussed in those “71 off-the-record meetings”? How many of these meetings were with, say, executives of the New York Times?

So: Was there a quid pro quo, positive war coverage in exchange for increased profits? The public has the right to know. But don’t bet on reading about it in the Times.