Monday, Jul. 16, 1984
Sins of Celebrity Journalism
By Thomas Griffith
The press has become as fascinated with itself as Narcissus, but with a difference. It studies its own reflection not out of moody self-love, but with the gloomy recognition that it has lost credibility with the public. A candid new critique, written by Charles W. Bailey, a reporter and editor on the Minneapolis Tribune for more than 30 years, finds a welcome decline in the blatant freeloading habits of the press: fewer fashion editors get their clothes wholesale, fewer sportswriters ride free on team planes. Bailey, now the Washington editor of National Public Radio, wrote his critique for the National News Council shortly before that independent watchdog group voted itself out of existence. On other potential conflicts of interest, he is a purist: "No journalist should have any personal involvements in politics or political activity beyond registering and voting; no government work at any level, paid or unpaid." With rules like these on many papers, press behavior in this and other matters is improving. Why, then, are the media mistrusted more than they used to be? Bailey finds one explanation in the conspicuous transgressions of "celebrity journalism."
This new breed, "the celebrity, the entertainer-turned-reporter, the politician-turned-columnist, the reporter who goes in and out of government," was not trained in political neutrality, as were earlier print, radio and television reporters. Many, he notes, even owe their original prominence to their political backgrounds: Jody Powell, Bill Moyers and Pierre Salinger were presidential press secretaries, and William Safire and Patrick Buchanan were Nixon speechwriters. Only Salinger and Buchanan had previously worked on newspapers. Bailey recalls the "spectacular stumble" of syndicated conservative Columnist George F. Will, who, when criticized for helping coach his friend Ronald Reagan for the 1980 debate with Jimmy Carter, said he felt exempt 5 from the rules of neutrality because he was not a "journalist." (About to become a regular commentator on ABC's World News Tonight, Will describes himself as "reformed.")
Bailey has sharp words for big-money journalists. Washington writers can "match their newspaper salaries by delivering one lecture a month .. . Should media 'stars' take fat lecture fees--while the media continually criticize members of Congress for the size and frequency of the honoraria they receive for making speeches?" Columnists Rowland Evans and Robert Novak, Bailey points out, "sponsor a semiannual Washington seminar for businessmen, who pay several hundred dollars each to spend a day Listening to high Government officials and political leaders." How obligated, Bailey asks, are Evans and Novak to officials who help them make money?
Bailey's basic attitude is that if exceptions to journalistic norms are permitted, they should be accompanied by full "disclosure--relentless, repetitive, even boring." This seems a tiny answer to a large problem. He argues that disclaimers need Little space: "George Will was Legislative assistant to a Republican Senator before becoming a columnist." But how often should we be told that Diane Sawyer of CBS once worked in Nixon's press office?
Bailey urges his fellow journalists to do what they can to "keep the privileged few from giving the rest of the news business a bad name." Bailey's difficulty is that he wants this other kind of journalism neater and narrower than it has any intention of becoming. In the highly competitive worlds of Washington and television, journalism commingles with, and is contaminated by, show business. The resulting mutation has standards too, but less demanding ones: it even has rules, though not many. Maybe the answer is to find it another name. Since it has stars, jaunty theme music and drama, why not call it "news theater"?