Associate Editor Glass was described by his New Republic colleagues as a personable and hardworking reporter who willingly gave up sleep just to incorporate his editor’s suggestions into his pieces and improve the verisimilitude of his news stories – stories that would later be discovered as purely fictitious. In 1998, the then 25-year-old journalist was fired after being caught lying and concocting lie-infested articles of events that didn’t take place and even quotes from people who did not exist.
For a decade, the USA Today readers turned to the articles of foreign correspondent Kelly for information. Early this year, however, an investigation by management and a team of reporters produced results that indicated he had made up most of his eight major stories and pilfered quotes from other publications. This prompted his resignation from the well read two-million-circulation paper.
Blair made headlines in the spring of 2003 when it was discovered that he lied about most of his articles, plagiarizing and fabricating his way to self-destruction in the New York Times, believed to be the nation’s most trusted newspaper. Initially, he showed no remorse for what he had done, even laughing at his editor and the paper’s fact-checkers for not catching him sooner than they did.
These are unforgivable crimes in the newsroom. The scary reality is – these are just a few of the ethical tremors being felt in the world of journalism; and it’s been around for quite some time.
On September 29, 1980, an article that appeared in the Washington Post told the disturbing tale of "Jimmy," a young boy who had become a heroin addict after being introduced to the drug by his mother’s live-in partner. Janet Cooke, the author of the article, described the eight-year-old who lived in one of the low income neighborhoods in Washington D.C.: "Jimmy is eight years old and a third generation heroin addict, a precocious little boy with sandy hair, velvety brown eyes and needle marks freckling the baby-smooth skin of his thin brown arms." Cooke also mentioned that Jimmy wanted to be a heroin dealer when he grew up.
This story generated public interest and not a few demanded for Cooke to reveal where Jimmy was so he could be helped. She refused to do so, saying she wanted to "protect her source." Amid the debate, on April 13, 1981, Cooke earned a Pulitzer Prize for her controversial story; although it was not the end of the saga. When her editors learned that she had lied about various academic credentials on her resume, they confronted Cooke about Jimmy. Unable to provide any more excuses, she relented and admitted that Jimmy did not exist. Cooke tendered her resignation and the humiliated Washington Post returned the prestigious Pulitzer Prize.
These stories of deception would distress anyone who reads copy because journalism is built on trust. We don’t go around doubting the veracity of the news stories we read in the papers. In the same token, New York Times executive editor Howell Raines told Washington Post, "No newspaper in the world is set up to monitor for cheats and fabricators."
The editor hands out pen and paper to a reporter and sends him out into the world, report, to hopefully make a difference. But with that privilege comes responsibility. Journalists are expected to possess speed – for submitting stories on time, accuracy – for checking facts and details, and most of all truth — for striving to inform the public with what it wants and needs to know. Whenever they throw themselves into the vortex of issues and event, reporters are expected to come out of it and add to human knowledge.
Several reasons have been given to explain the case of the lying reporter. Blair told the Associated Press, "I have been struggling with recurring personal issues, which have caused me great pain. I am now seeking appropriate counseling." Personal problems should not be a justification. Conventional wisdom suggests that young reporters succumb to this deed because the system pressures them to come out with compelling stories that would make them popularly credible. Likewise, this explanation is not good enough to exonerate dishonesty.
We cry foul! We feel betrayed. Maybe we will never look at newspaper or magazine articles the same way anymore – with peace and utmost trust, thinking that the reporters will always tell the truth.
Nonetheless, we can’t help but marvel at their ingenuity. Glass even put up a website to support an article he made about hackers. He started a string of e-mail accounts and bogus phone numbers that lead to a voice mail so it will appear as if fact-checkers could trace contact details of his imaginary people and companies.
We can’t help but admire their creativity. After all, they came up with believable details to cook up events that didn’t happen and fictitious characters to play in it. In the first place, if they were so good inventing stories, why didn’t they just embark on writing a novel and aspire to make it into Oprah’s Book Club?
LA-based New Millennium Press published Blair’s Burning Down My Master’s House: My Life at the New York Times. The book went on sale last March 9, with first printing of about 250,000 copies. Shortly after he was fired, Glass sold the rights to make his story into a movie, Shattered Glass.
Should we reward inexcusable behavior this way? Have we lost our capacity for shame? We live in a society that forgives and forgets easily. Today, we hate the media. Tomorrow we love them. And the cycle goes on and on.