Media Nation

A tale of redemption jumps from the Herald to the Globe

Nestor Ramos has a lovely story of redemption in today’s Boston Globe — the story of Michael Griswold, who overcame addiction in order to make a life with his now-8-year-old son, Jameal.

What caught my eye, though, was the unusual way in which the Globe acknowledged that its story wasn’t the first. Toward the end of the video that accompanies the article, we see Michael Griswold holding a copy of the Boston Herald (screenshot above).

I looked it up. Sure enough, then-Herald columnist Margery Eagan wrote about the Griswold family in November 2013.

Ironically, Eagan herself is now at the Globe, writing a column on spirituality for the Globe-owned Catholic website Crux.

A Baltimore TV station’s incendiary ‘error’

A television station in Baltimore edited video of protesters calling for the jailing of “killer cops” to make it sound like they were chanting “kill a cop.” I find it horrifying that anyone this side of the white supremacist movement would do something so irresponsible at a time when relations between the police and communities of color are already fraught.

David Zurawik of the Baltimore Sun reports that WBFF, a Sinclair-owned Fox affiliate, has called the incident “an error” and posted an apology on its website (which I can’t find on the station’s home page or its news page this morning). Some error. In fact, the protesters were chanting, “We won’t stop. We can’t stop ’til killer cops are in cell blocks.” The footage was recorded at a protest in Washington on Sunday and was carried by C-SPAN.

If this really was an error, it’s a matter of someone making some pretty ugly assumptions about the protesters. The fact that the line “are in cell blocks” was edited out raises serious questions about whether this was truly an error. Mediaite has posted the original WBFF video. You should take a look.

Is this the media fail of the year? I think so. Bad as Rolling Stone’s false story about a sexual assault at UVA was, WBFF’s ignorant stunt could incite violence. Broadcast stations such as WBFF are licensed and regulated by the FCC. I am not a fan of letting the government poke into matters involving the First Amendment. But in this case I’d say a hearing is in order. We need to know how this happened.

The Globe’s Ideas section loses its editor and a reporter

My former Boston Phoenix colleague Steve Heuser, who has edited The Boston Globe’s Ideas section for the past three years, is headed for Politico. I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that Steve worked closely with Politico executive editor Peter Canellos when Canellos was at the Globe.

Also leaving: Ideas reporter Leon Neyfakh, who’s headed for Slate.

Here’s Globe editorial-page editor Ellen Clegg’s memo to the staff, which a kind soul passed along a little while ago.

Dear colleagues,

Ideas editor Steve Heuser, who has been a valued colleague for 14 years and who has led the section since 2011, is leaving the Globe in January for Politico, where he’ll serve as the editor of a new project called The Agenda.

During his time here, he has distinguished himself as an editor and as a reporter in a number of departments. He edited the Globe’s Pulitzer-winning science coverage, served as an award-winning biotechnology reporter, and edited our coverage of higher education, medicine, and the environment. He started at the Globe as New England editor, and in 2005 covered the funeral of John Paul II and the papal election in Rome.

In Ideas, Steve’s discerning eye for narrative and his vision for the section leaves a strong foundation, and we intend to build on that in 2015. The section has been an important part of the Boston Sunday Globe for 12 years, and will continue to be a showcase for coverage of new thinking in policy, science, the social sciences, and the humanities as we move forward.

In the meantime, the section is in the great hands of Amanda Katz, Ideas’ talented deputy editor, who will lead it during the transition.

Finally, one more update: As many of you know, in November, Ideas reporter Leon Neyfakh notified us that he will leave the Globe for an exciting new opportunity at Slate. His last day is Friday.

Searches are under way to fill both vacancies.

Ellen Clegg

Emily Rooney scales back, but will keep beating the press

It will be a big night in Boston media as Emily Rooney hosts “Greater Boston” for the last time. It’s been quite a run: Emily has been at the helm since 1997.

Fortunately, she will continue as host of the Friday “Beat the Press” show, and will contribute to WGBH Radio (89.7 FM) and WGBHNews.org as well.

I’ve had the privilege of being part of “Beat the Press” since the late ’90s, first as an occasional guest and later as a regular. Congratulations to Emily on a job well done — and thank you for remaining a part of our Friday nights.

Earlier:

‘Serial’ is untraditional, but it’s journalism at its best

The highly acclaimed podcast “Serial” concludes this Thursday. To mark the occasion, longtime journalist Brian C. Jones wrote a guest commentary on Tuesday regarding what he believes are the series’ journalistic and ethical shortcomings. Today I offer my response. — Dan

Sarah Koenig has often been quoted as saying that she doesn’t know how her podcast “Serial” will turn out. And those of us who have listened to every episode understand she still harbors suspicions that her protagonist, Adnan Syed, actually did murder his ex-girlfriend when they were Maryland high school students 15 years ago.

Brian C. Jones makes much of this in his commentary, writing that “Serial” is more voyeurism than journalism. “Without an answer,” he says, “it’s a little like digging up a coffin just to see what’s inside.” Jones offers some strong arguments about ethics and a journalist’s responsibility, but I disagree with his assessment. “Serial” may not be traditional journalism, but it is journalism, and of a rather high order.

Instead of a five-minute piece (a lifetime on radio, even on public radio) looking into a murder case about which questions remain, we’ve been brought inside the journalistic sausage-making factory. Koenig doesn’t know whether Syed killed Hae Min Lee, and we are with her every step as she gropes for answers. We are participants with Koenig; her emotions are ours. Yes, that’s a long way from a wire-service story that begins with the words “Police said.” But does that kind of journalism work anymore? Did it ever?

More important, it’s easy to make too much of Koenig’s uncertainty, as I think Jones has. In fact, she did a lot of reporting — perhaps the bulk of her reporting — before the first episode was uploaded. She’d been at it for a year, and had done several segments for “This American Life” (I confess I have not heard those early pre-“Serial” stories) before the saga of Adnan Syed was spun off.

From the beginning of “Serial,” it was clear that Koenig seriously doubted Syed’s guilt, even though she didn’t entirely rule it out. Moreover, her reporting revealed there was little or no physical evidence linking the murder to Syed, and that the prosecution’s main witness, Jay, who was Syed’s alleged accomplice, had told wildly inconsistent stories to investigators. As the series has unfolded, we’ve also learned that the timeline prosecutors laid out was close to an impossibility, and that Syed’s lawyer, who was probably seriously ill during Syed’s two trials, made crucial errors. Anti-Muslim animus may have entered into the proceedings as well.

That’s more than enough not just to launch a serious journalistic inquiry but to publish the results. A better way of thinking about the dilemma Jones defines might be to say that Koenig did not know how “Serial” would turn out once her reporting hit the Internet. Of course, she had no way of knowing that her work would become a phenomenon; but surely she understood that people who cared about the case would hear it. Having established doubt — maybe even reasonable doubt — about Syed’s guilt, perhaps her series would result in more evidence coming out. Maybe someone would even identify the real killer, assuming it is not Syed.

On a recent episode Koenig addressed news reports such as this one that Syed had been granted an appeal. It wasn’t so simple, she explained. Syed is at the very beginning of a long road, and he may not get very far. Once someone has been convicted, it is extremely difficult to get that conviction overturned unless there is compelling evidence of innocence. (And even then.) Given the realities of the justice system, the chances of Thursday’s final episode being a blockbuster seem unlikely.

Still, Koenig’s meticulous reporting has raised sufficient doubts about Adnan Syed’s guilt that he may get another chance. Isn’t that what good journalism is supposed to do?

‘Serial’ isn’t journalism. It’s voyeurism. Here’s why.

The highly acclaimed podcast “Serial” concludes this Thursday. To mark the occasion, I’m pleased to present this commentary by veteran journalist Brian C. Jones on what he believes are the series’ journalistic and ethical shortcomings. Tomorrow I’ll respond. (And here it is.) — Dan

By Brian C. Jones

“Serial” may be a podcast phenomenon, but almost from the beginning I’ve thought of it as flawed journalism.

Sarah Koenig, the lead producer and narrator, acknowledged when the episodes began that she didn’t know the outcome; she’d done considerable digging, but her investigation wasn’t finished.

That’s a problem.

A developed story like this obligates the reporter to know — before going public — why it’s worthwhile, other than it’s “interesting.” Without an answer, it’s a little like digging up a coffin just to see what’s inside.

Unfolding in weekly segments every Thursday, the story is about the 1999 murder of a Maryland high school student. Her ex-boyfriend, convicted and imprisoned for the slaying, says he’s innocent. Koenig says a friend of the defendant asked her to revisit the case.

A podcast follower can be excused for jumping to the conclusion that Koenig might answer the he did it/he didn’t do it question. The episodes are so detailed and skillfully told that it’s obvious Koenig has tapped a rich lode of material, suggesting that “Serial” has the potential to refute or confirm the jury’s verdict.

But Koenig never promised a “Perry Mason” ending, only that listeners would accompany her on a journey of exploration: about the case, about the criminal-justice process, about the effort required of journalists and nonfiction storytellers.

What’s wrong with that? One thing is that real-life stories hurt the peopled involved, at least some of them. Just being in the spotlight can be excruciating; details are inevitably embarrassing; wounds will be reopened; doubts created; reputations roughed up.

Actual people and their lives are not figures to be marched around a Clue board, not answers to 4-Down in a crossword puzzle, not characters in a video game.

Last week Koenig read from a letter from the defendant saying that his psyche has been bruised by her persistent questioning of his character. I imagine some prosecutors, cops and others whose work has been scrutinized feel the same.

I’m not saying that a reporter should know where she wants a story to go when she begins it — of course the facts should determine the outcome. I’m not saying that ambiguity has no place in journalism — most stories are complex and confounding.

My objection is that when the reporting phase is exhausted, it’s crucial to understand what kind of a story it is, and maybe whether it is a story at all. At the very least, the writer has to be honest with listeners as to the “why” of the story.

Koenig said the story will end with Thursday’s episode. Maybe she’s gotten lucky and “Serial” will conclude with a bombshell; millions of downloaders will cheer; and Koenig will be hailed as the industry disrupter who popularized podcast storytelling.

For me, that won’t get her off the hook, since she never knew what would happen.

Instead, she used the tools of legitimate reporting — the right to public records, access to experts, the goodwill of interviewees, compelling soundbites, stylish storytelling and the credibility of “This American Life,” from which “Serial” was spun off — to intrude into and disrupt real lives for the fun of it. It’s voyeurism, not journalism.

Brian C. Jones, a freelance journalist, worked 35 years for the Providence Journal, including a stint as the paper’s media reporter. Later, he was a contributing writer for the now-defunct Providence Phoenix and wrote histories of three hospitals in Rhode Island.

Correction: An earlier version of this commentary erroneously stated that the defendant’s mother asked Koenig to review the case.

Telling the story across media platforms

[googlemaps https://mapsengine.google.com/map/embed?mid=zPbsJYJWxk3s.kDTgHpU31VhI&w=640&h=480]

For their final project, my graduate students in Fundamentals of Digital Journalism had to produce a story on a topic of their choosing that included three elements: a bloggy feature story (bloggy because it’s full of links), photos and a video.

Their reporting took them from a program in New York that promotes alternatives to prison to a horse farm in Goffstown, New Hampshire, for kids with disabilities. Most of their stories, though, were based in the Boston area.

There’s some good work here, and I hope you’ll take a look at the map. Each marker will take you to a different story. You’ll need to zoom in on Boston.

Edelman speaks

The Boston Herald talks to Ben Edelman about the Boston.com T-shirt controversy. This doesn’t sound like it’s over.

Boston.com retracts claim about racist email from professor

The tale of the Harvard Business School professor who flipped out because he’d been overcharged $4 by a Chinese restaurant took an ugly turn Wednesday night. Boston.com, which first reported the story, posted a follow-up claiming that Ben Edelman had sent a racist email to the restaurant owner — and then replaced the follow-up with an “Editor’s Note,” explaining that the authenticity of the email couldn’t be verified. The Boston Herald has a summary of what went wrong. (Boston.com is part of The Boston Globe’s network of websites.)

The original story about Edelman, by Boston.com’s Hilary Sargent, had gone viral. Who, after all, can resist reading about a privileged Harvard professor threatening legal action against a hard-working business owner because the prices on his website hadn’t been updated for a while? So when Boston.com retracted its explosive allegation (carrying Sargent and Roberto Scalese’s bylines) that Edelman was not just a contentious jerk but a racist as well, Twitter exploded.

Well Jesus, @BostonDotCom: pic.twitter.com/p4l5g0brzx

— Adam Reilly (@reillyadam) December 11, 2014

So what did Boston.com publish? It wasn’t long before screen grabs started to make their way around the intertubes. J. Alain Ferry posted a copy here. What happened was that after Edelman apologized to Ran Duan, whose family owns the Sichuan Garden restaurant in Brookline, someone claiming to be Edelman sent another email to the restaurant owner, writing, “You may have won the battle Duan, but at least we can agree your menu is a little less slanty-eyed.” That’s followed up by an apology for accidentally sending what was meant as a private joke, which has the effect of making the mail seem more authentic.

Edelman’s domain name, benedelman.org, is easily found on the Web, and it’s not difficult to send an email using any address you like. The Sichuan Garden website offers an email form that lets you do exactly that. One clue is that all of the legitimate emails Boston.com has posted from Edelman are marked as coming from “Ben Edelman,” whereas the racist email and subsequent apology were from “ben@benedelman.org.”

Hmm so the restaurant contact form lets you enter any email: http://t.co/ZLTyRAcsdf & the ben@benedelman.org address isn't a secret @lilsarg

— Kyle Alspach (@KyleAlspach) December 11, 2014

Despite the retraction, Boston.com as of this moment is still all-in on the rest of its Edelman package. We’ll see what, if anything, comes next.

Update: Kyle Alspach just posted on this at BostInno. He’s got some really interesting technical stuff.

Update II: Here’s a screen image of a tweet Sargent sent out last night that she subsequently took down: