The end of journalism as I knew it

All my life as a journalist, I have tried to write in a way that was fair to all sides of an issue and masked whatever my personal opinion was, because the idea was to present the facts of a story accurately.

This is the authentic beginning of a news story that cleared the Associated Press feed the other day.


WASHINGTON (AP) — First, some blamed the deadly Jan. 6 attack at the U.S. Capitol on left-wing antifa antagonists, a theory quickly debunked. Then came comparisons of the rioters to peaceful protesters or even tourists.
Now, allies of former President Donald Trump are calling those charged in the Capitol riot “political prisoners,” a stunning effort to revise the narrative of that deadly day.
The brazen rhetoric ahead of a rally planned for Saturday at the Capitol is the latest attempt to explain away the horrific assault and obscure what played out for all the world to see: rioters loyal to the then-president storming the building, battling police and trying to stop Congress from certifying the election of Democrat Joe Biden.


Neither the writer of this AP story, nor whatever editor(s) read and cleared it for release, would have a job in a newsroom where I was asked to be in charge.

I don’t think I need to point out the places where the writer’s opinion bleeds through, do I? Hints: “a theory quickly debunked.” Words like “stunning” and “brazen” and “horrific.” This is the opposite of objective reporting.

There’s a place for this kind of writing in journalism, of course — in articles clearly marked “opinion” and/or “analysis.” I saw neither label in plain sight.

This is an example of why the average human being has lost faith in what has come to be known as mainstream media. At least non-mainstream media is straightforward about its agenda. There seems to be no one left in the business interested in telling the story straight down the middle.

The only way to get something resembling an objective view is to read several versions of a story and try to discern the objective facts that every side seems to agree on. For example, on Jan. 6 it’s clear that hundreds if not thousands of people entered the Capitol building, one person was shot and killed by a police officer, a number of people were injured and property damage was done. Almost everything beyond that is open to interpretation.

It always has depended on your point of view. In the past, at least, or at least in news stories I wrote, each point of view was presented with neutral language. I guess I’m an old fossil from another time.

The frustrations of puppyhood

“I’m BORED. There’s nothing to DO here,” the puppy whined.

“Here’s a bone, chew on that for a while,” Mom said.

“Been there, done that.”

“Well, chase the cat around the house.”

“She’s sleeping.”

“OK. Where’s that ball?”

“Balls are boring. I’m going to chew the door trim.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m going to eat Daddy’s toe.”

(”OW!”)

“That’s not a good thing,” Mom said with a smile.

“I know! I’ll shred this blanket.”

“Now you’re being sassy. Maybe go in your crate and have a time out.”

“Aw, you never let me do ANYthing …”

ZAP!

I believe I became a kinder, gentler man when I stumbled across the Zero Aggression Principle, or ZAP, best articulated by the recently deceased L. Neil Smith:

“No one has the right, under any circumstances, to initiate force against another human being for any reason whatever; nor should anyone advocate the initiation of force, or delegate it to anyone else.”

That principle says what I have always believed and how I think most people live their lives. At a young age I admired the U.S. government’s rebranding of its War Department as the Department of Defense and its declaration that it would never initiate a first strike in an armed conflict. I liked the concept that violence would only be used defensively. (Part of my later disillusionment with government was when I realized both the rebranding and the declaration were dishonest, but that’s for another day.)

I always admired Smith’s writing. He was forceful, clear and effective in stating his views, which were passionately held and had the Zero Aggression Principle at its core. But I had never read any of his books, and so on hearing of his death I sought to rectify that oversight and am now in possession of and thirstily reading The Probability Broach, his first and most well-known novel, and Lever Action, a 2000 collection of his articles, speeches and letters to the editor that another person I respect recently cited as life-changing.

The latter collection was delivered Wednesday, the perfect day because I had time to read for a while and the puppy fell asleep on my foot, forcing me to do nothing but page through the first 60 or so pages.

And I realized something I always knew instinctively but never quite verbalized: The linchpin word in ZAP is “initiate.” The principle does not eschew force or violence; it eschews the initiation of force or violence. As I said, I always knew that, I just downplayed it because I so much admire those who seek and choose nonviolent solutions.

Smith was an ardent proponent of the Second Amendment — all 10 amendments that comprise the Bill of Rights, in fact. The book begins with a 1994 speech he gave advocating a society where those 10 limitations on government were sacred and enforced. The Second Amendment is about the individual’s right to use violence in self-defense, nothing more, nothing less.

Such a society — with the Bill of Rights summarized in the Zero Aggression Principle — would necessarily be kinder and gentler, Smith argued, and I agree. If we all agreed never to initiate violence on one another — and tacitly agreed that violence initiated would be met in kind — then the impulse to turn to violence would be under control most of the time.

Over and over in his 1994 speech Smith repeated a pledge he said should be required of all public servants, who would be subject to arrest if they ever violated it — and of course the administration running the country at that time would be rounded up first thing: “I swear by my life, my fortune, and my sacred honor to uphold the first 10 Amendments to the Constitution of the United States, popularly known as the ‘Bill of Rights.’”

What a different world we would live in, if we made our rulers adhere to that pledge. We owe it to ourselves, and to the memory of L. Neil Smith, to get started.