Monday, Aug. 14, 1933

Publishers' Code

"The President may suspend or revoke any such license . . . for violations of the terms or conditions thereof . . ."--excerpt from the licensing clause of the National Industrial Recovery Act. "Congress shall make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech or of the Press . . ."--1st Amendment to the U. S. Constitution. A newspaper publishers' committee marched to Washington last week to thresh out with Recovery Administrator Johnson the contradiction which, they insisted, lay between the foregoing clauses and stood" in the way of adoption of a code by newspapers. The committeemen. representing the American Newspaper Publishers' Association, were Howard Davis, plump manager of the New York Herald Tribune, Amon Giles Carter, potent Texas Democrat and publisher of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, John Stewart Bryan, publisher of the Richmond News-Leader, Charles R. Butler, president of the Inland Daily Press Association.

Newshawks who tried to learn what went on in the meeting about their own industry were firmly rebuffed by both sides. But word got about that General Johnson had capitulated on the licensing clause and, moreover, that the publishers had won the right to continue using child labor (newsboys under 16).

Meanwhile the A. N. P. A. had incurred the wrath of various publishers by its advice to them fortnight ago to refrain from adopting the President's blanket code. The A. N. P. A.'s reason: newspaper publishing "is not an industry but an enterprise of such peculiar importance as to be especially provided for in the Constitution of the U. S. . . . whose independence must be jealously guarded from any interference which can lead to or approximate censorship."

Most important newspapers abided by the A. N. P. A.'s advice, but not all. The virile Philadelphia Record promptly signed, slapped a large NRA eagle on its front page. The lusty Manhattan tabloid Daily News, which had been on a five-day week for nearly a year, also signed (but not its big brother Chicago Tribune). Said the News in an editorial: "We do not think that the free press argument is a very noble excuse for paying your office boys $13.50 a week instead of the blanket code's $15." Likewise the Milwaukee Journal signed, hired 57 additional employes, increased its yearly payroll by $100,000, roundly flayed the A. N. P. A. for its "plea for special privilege." A cursory survey by Editor & Publisher tradepaper found about 50 signers, estimated hundreds more.

The status of newshawks, rewritemen, photographers et al. in relation to the 40-hr, maximum work week remained obscure last week. An assistant in NRA opined they were "professional" men, therefore exempt. Next day General Johnson called that a "slip."

NRA last week gave preliminary approval to a code adopted by magazine & periodical publishers. The code was drafted by a Periodical Publishers Institute formed in Manhattan to represent 6,800 publications of assorted sizes and hues-- most of which are losing money. Prime problem: to gear a standard procedure to all publications, from the Satevepost to the Little Flower Monastery Messenger. Prime provisions (subject to amendment by NRA): 1) The Institute, headed by Stanley R. Latshaw of Butterick Co., "shall establish definite regulations . . . to prevent publication of misleading and/ or untruthful advertising." 2) "Circulation records . . . shall be open for inspection by advertisers . . . and all reasonable auditable information which they request shall be furnished." 3) "Publishers shall make no deviation from their published rate schedules ... in the form of money or otherwise, or secretly extend to certain advertisers special privileges not extended to all."

Gangsters' Pressagents

In Chicago last week a convention of police chiefs heard an editor tell them what they love to hear: that the yellow press is at the root of all their troubles.

The editor was Malcolm Wallace

("Bing") Bingay, editorial director of the Detroit Free Press. Editor Bingay, bald and fat, carefully segregated the majority of U. S. newspapers as law-abiding institutions. But the yellows and the "equally sinister group that is in the twilight zone, the near yellows, which parade under a cloak of respectability," said he, "created the fiction of the gangster and then through that fiction made him into a reality." Excerpts from his speech: ". . . [Yellow] newspapers create for headline purposes catchy, attention-arresting names for the bands of marauders. In my home city ... it is the 'Purple Gang.' . . Most of you police officers -- and even the criminals themselves -- do not know the gang names until they are hammered into your brain day after day by the headlines of the 'penny dreadfuls.' ... A bunch of sneak thieves and neighborhood bums are ballyhooed into a ferocious gang. . . . The reporters and editors of the yellow papers act as pressagents for these criminals. . . . The people, having been terrorized by the pressagents, are easier prey for them. [Moreover] every police chief knows that a hunted criminal watches the sensational newspapers to keep him posted on the developments of the search for him. . . ." Why should yellow newspapers be able to get and print such news? Editor Bingay was sympathetic. "A courageous police chief, a fearless prosecutor, or a high-minded judge who . . . fights against such outrageous newspaper conduct finds himself the storm centre of a lot of trumped-up charges. 'Oh,' says the yellow editor, 'you won't give us a break, hey? All right, we'll get you and get you good!' . . ." How put a stop to gangster pressagentry? Editor Bingay proposed an ambitious scheme: "The only way to get at the publisher of a yellow newspaper is to hit him in the pocketbook." Let the police chiefs appoint a committee to meet with other committees of editors, publishers, advertisers, and--to make sure of their ground--a committee of the American Bar Association. Let them draft a code of newspaper conduct in dealing with crime. Then "the yellow press . . . will be revealed for what it is, just as the American Medical Association exposes a quack doctor and the American Bar Association reveals the shyster." "Bing" Bingay, probably the best known newsman in Detroit, knows intimately the ways of the police and of the sensational press. He grew up with many a bluecoat in Corktown, Detroit's Irish settlement, where he was raised (although he is Canadian-born, of Scotch descent). He knows sensational newspapers because for 30 years they have been his opposition (in the form of Hearst's Times, Macfadden's defunct Daily). At 17 "Bing" Bingay started as an office boy on the Scripps-founded Detroit News. He left as managing editor four years ago, held a $15,000-a-year advertising job for a year, then joined the old, respected Free Press (whose first editorial campaign in 1831 was for Michigan's admittance to the Union). His first assignment was to compile and edit its voluminous Centenary Edition in 1931. Also he writes a daily colyum on the editorial page, called "Good Morning," which does not do justice to his ability as a newsman. (Example from a colyum last week: "A feller out in Oklahoma set a new world's record the other day for beating a snare drum for six and a half hours. That is to say he beat the record.") He has a prodigious memory, and this year won honorable mention from the Pulitzer Prize committee for an obituary of Sir Ronald Ross, written chiefly from memory. He reads voraciously, likes to quote Emerson, says he thinks Elbert Hubbard was the best rewrite man of his age. On occasion Editor Bingay can be exceedingly sharp-tongued. Reporters under him testify that "he can take the hide off anyone in about seven sentences." When excited he used to spit on the floor but has broken himself of the habit.

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