Something to Hide?

The first person I would think ready to comment on the subject of ethics in journalism would be a Christian newspaper or other ultra-right-wing-fundamentalist monthly. Hmmm. Not so much. In the search for answers about ethics in journalism, this author found that the major local newspaper of the area was eager to answer questions about ethics in journalism but some the Christian publications, both local and abroad, preferred a more “loose lips sink ships” approach. “Und jus’ who are you writink zis awtikal for? Vat is yoouer nem und identifikashun numba? Und ‘ow can I confirm, vat iz zis, Jerry B. Jenkins Christian Writer’s Guild, is a legitimate organization?” Or the other extreme, “Are you recording this conversation? You never know who might be listening. No, actually, we’re getting out of the newspaper business, you may have heard . . . never mind what I meant by that! I’m actually selling this rag, you want to buy it? I’m getting out of the business, see . . . no, I don’t want to answer any questions! Gotta go! [click]”

I couldn’t believe that last conversation really took place until I heard the familiar automaton on the other end of the line, “If you’d like to make call, please hang up and dial again . . . “ Of course, I exaggerate slightly, I do mean slightly though. Those snippets really do capture the essence of the responses I got from the Christian publications that I contacted.

Jim Kershner of the Spokesman Review newspaper, on the other hand, was kind enough to answer my questions.

E: For you, when is the line crossed between serving journalism and serving the subject of your journalism? In your opinion, does accepting discounts or freebies blur that line?

JK: We never accept freebies or discounts. Anything beyond a cup of coffee or something trivial like that crosses the line. There is no reason to accept anything, except possibly a homemade brownie. That would be just rude to turn that down. But in general, accepting something like free lodging puts you in the awkward position of having accepted something that other people would pay for. It is much simpler to simply turn it down. Otherwise, you always have that nagging question in the back of your mind about whether you were swayed or not.

Also, he provided a link to their values statement online. It turns out that editors had just been hashing this out as I contacted Mr. Kershner. The values statement is very well done. After I read parts of it, I got the impression that the SR considers itself very mission oriented. They believe that they are there to serve the public not themselves or their Pulitzer Prize seeking egos.

In contrast, the negative or null responses I got from the half-dozen or so Christian publications, plus what I’ve read of them, give me an unfavorable impression. I am given the impression that whenever there is an agenda to be imposed, the temptation to make that the sole reason for the publication is dangerously tempting. Christian journalism all too easily becomes Christian propaganda.

Having said that, I do exclude more reputable mags like Christianity Today and Weekly World Magazine from that generalization. It does make me wonder though why “Christian” journalism as a label is necessary. Why shouldn’t it just be good journalism that flows out of a believer who seeks truth and the faithful reporting of it?

McDonalds from 5 Points of View

DJ
The sign on the outside said McDonald’s but it wasn’t the same as the McDonald’s in Tarrytown. This one didn’t have a play place with a ball crawl and slide. A picture on the window showed Ronald McDonald and Grimace. They were coming to this McDonald’s on Sunday. DJ wouldn’t be here though. He would be New Castle on Sunday. DJ wasn’t in New Castle yet nor was he in Tarrytown anymore, he was in between. The food took too long and Debbie mommy forgot to take the pickles off his cheeseburger. Hank daddy did get him a strawberry shake though. DJ never had strawberry before, it was good. Did they have McDonald’s in New Castle? Would that one have a play place with a ball crawl and a slide?

Katrina
Oh, the nails on the five-dollar-an-hour cashier were utterly hideous! You could just tell that were fake and probably done at that place by Walmart off the interstate. The wandering eyes of the pimply faced sandwich maker casually looked Katrina over as she turned in the application. As if! This place would be a wonderful subject for her cultural diversity report in social studies. How many minorities does it take to mop up a grease spill after the lunch rush? ‘Affirmative Action at its Worst’ could be the title. What were they using to clean the bathrooms, orange soda? That’s what it smelled like.


Bennie
McDonald’s coffee was usually the best. Something was slightly off today though. Maybe they got the mixture wrong. That sometimes happens on the soda machines. You just get carbonated, tasteless bubble water or it is entirely too sweet. The coffee was too strong today, maybe too many beans ground too fine. That must be it.
Cheryl isn’t here today. She would have gotten it right. Instead, Michelle is working the front. Cheryl would have made sure the table was clean before he got to his seat, which was hard and cold. The seat opposite him was empty, just a yellow empty space reflecting the harsh glare of sunlight. Yellow is such a bright color for a seat, it was so wide open like an empty billboard. Bennie sipped his coffee and stared blankly at the poorly used advertising space across from him.

Milt
Was that French music they were playing over the loud speaker? Milt couldn’t remember whether it was the French or the Swiss that favored the accordion. Maybe he would just have to take a leisurely trip over to Europe and find out first hand. The closest Milt was getting to France today, though, would be the special sauce on his Big Mac. It must be French dressing or is it Thousand Island? It must be French, why else would it be called ‘special?’ Milt found this last conclusion amusing and he giggled to himself with his mouth full of “two-all-beef-patties-special sauce (let’s not forget that)-lettuce cheese-pickles-onions –on a sesame seed bun.” What a catchy tune!
Wow! The place was hoppin’! This particular McDonald’s was one efficiently running machine. Everything thing seemed to run so smoothly here. There had been a grease spill in the back and five employees swarmed on it to wipe the mess up before someone had an accident. The lovely cashier at the register with the sparkly nails was right on top of things delegating tasks to her fellow McDonaldland comrades. Like a well oiled machine, from the timing of the fry machine beepers to the spic-n-span smelling bathrooms, this store was run like it should just like Milt’s life.

Tracy
An untouched Mega-Mac lay smack dab in the middle of the papered brown tray. Equally un-munched upon French fries were stationed to the left and on the right side of her mini-hamburger-building was her un-sipped shamrock shake. Oblivious to the world around her and her food as well, Tracy feverishly punched buttons on her cell phone.
Who else needed to know? Who didn’t know yet? Half the staff here at McDonald’s already knew. Michelle at the register reminded Tracy to super-size her meal because now she was eating for two. Two? What if it, they, were twins? It didn’t matter though, boy, girl, whatever! Maybe one day she could bring him here and he would pull the pickles off his cheeseburger like the blonde-haired boy sitting in the next booth over.