An important item that seems to be missing from this handbook is an admonition to make information informative to the audience. By this I mean that reporters have an obligation to present information in the most informative possible way. As an economist, I am used to reading articles that present items without any context. As a result, I am quite certain that the vast majority of readers would have no understanding of their significance.

This is most obvious in reporting on the budget. Very few people have any clear idea of the size of the federal budget. As a result, when they read that a transportation bill is projected to cost $196 billion over the next six years they have no idea whether this is big or small sum. In fact, for most readers, it would probably make little difference in their assessment of this sum if a zero was added or subtracted from the number. Just writing a huge number like this with no context is more of a ritual than real journalism.

On the other hand, it is very easy to write this sum in a way that would immediately tell readers how important it is in the budget. Most obviously, the appropriation can be reported relative to the total budget (@1.2 percent) or as a per person expenditure (@ $120 per person, per year). Either method would immediately give readers some sense of the importance of this particular appropriation.

Surveys consistently show that the public is very poorly informed on the federal budget. Much of the public believes that relatively small budget items, like foreign aid and TANF, account for a large share of spending. They also have been led to believe that pork barrel items that politicians slip into bills are a major cause of budget deficits. The media bears much of the responsibility for this level of ignorance. If it took its responsibility to inform the public seriously, people would have a much better idea of where their tax dollars are going. Of course, the same responsibility for informing readers applies to all areas of reporting.

I agree completely that a journalist’s mission is to tell the truth as this paragraph puts forth. How could you argue with that?
But what if the truth changes? What if a reporter believes that she has reported what she has seen and believed to be true at the time that she sees it? And then, this truth later reveals itself to be tainted?
I ask these questions because I recently read a book called, The Man Who Invented Fidel, by Anthony DePalma, a New York Times correspondent (and NYU professor in the Center for Latin American and Caribbean Studies). The book tells the story of Herbert L. Matthews, the New York Times correspondent who first announced to the world that Fidel Castro was indeed alive and well in the mountains of Cuba, although his death had been announced three months earlier, and his invasion considered over. Matthews’ initial heroic depiction of Castro was perpetuated until it soon made Castro into a living legend. This depiction was crucial in helping launch Castro to power. But when Castro revealed himself years later to be a Soviet-backed dictator, Matthews became a scapegoat; his paper turned on him and he was accused of betraying his country.
In the book, we are reminded several times that Matthews always said and believed that he reported what he saw and what he believed to be true. How do you know when and if reporting what you see is enough?
As I thought about these issues while reading this book, one of my Guerrilla News professors, Juanita Leon, gave a lecture on the central tenets of reporting. The first one she mentioned was to report against your prejudices. “You need to know what your position is and where you stand on whatever issue or event you are reporting,” she said. You then need to compensate by finding everything that does not prove your point or back your stance, she explained. It’s all about reporting against one’s bias.
Thinking about a reporter like Matthews, or even myself, for that matter, I realized that the only way to ensure, as accurately as possible, that you are telling the truth, is to take into account the prism of your own bias. To examine it and then move forward in your reporting.
In another class, a professor reminded us of something F. Scott Fitzgerald said: “The true sign of a great mind is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in your head at the same time.” To report the truth, you must be able to do this.