Courage to be Dan Rather

This post is for all you under 40 PR/comm types out there. When I was growing up, the Vietnam War played nightly on Walter Cronkite. Then, Watergate was the top story that consumed the national discussion. Through it all, Dan Rather was on location or in the anchor chair. Remember this was before cell phones and the internet gave us a 24/7 news cycle and people actually stopped what they were doing to watch the evening news.

For those of you who live and die by the feed on your cell phones, this was important because what happened on the evening news was a shared experience. It’s how we were updated on that day’s news, then we read the details in the next days’ newspaper (remember newspapers?). No Twitter postings* from un-vetted “news sources” or opinion leaders who might or might not have all the facts. It was widely regarded as objective reporting from trained journalists.

So why care? Do yourself a favor and watch the documentary Rather. Go ahead and make fun of Dan Rather for his good looks, his stupid sign off (Courage), or his epic mistake and departure from CBS…but this was the peak of TV journalism. And the guy is 92 and still in the game posting coherent comments on Twitter and other platforms. I love a second act.

Watergate, Woodward/Bernstein, and the aftermath made me want to be a journalist. Dan Rather’s documentary shows how TV journalism was before cell phones made everyone an alleged reporter. Watch it.

*I will NEVER call Twitter “X” because it’s just stupid.

So how are those staff cuts working for ya?

shits fired bullshit

My network of reporter/editor friends got some great chuckles out of recent gaffes in regional papers. Nothing entertains a bunch of journalists like implied (or actual) swear words in 36 point type. When you traffic in the printed or spoken word, mistakes are part of the landscape.

Usually an editor reviews final copy before it hits production or the air. Veteran journalists are fairly trustworthy when writing copy or headlines. But that’s just the problem—there aren’t many veteran journalists left.

In the last months, print newsrooms across the country have been slashed to the bone with budget cuts. Staffers with seniority and higher wages based on experience and ability have been trimmed from the balance sheet—along with their institutional knowledge. We can argue the failing business model of newspapers all day long and blame everything on the internet, but there’s a bigger issue here.

Trust me on this: you WANT experienced journalists on the job if only to perform their most important function as a watchdog. That’s an old-fashioned term that has a lot of modern implications.

In your busy life, will you ever attend a city council meeting? Do you have time to sit through floor debate at the legislature? Do you know your elected officials, your zoning committee or your school board personally?

You want a reporter at these meetings questioning why legislation is being proposed. You want a reporter asking why a zoning variance is being granted to a developer. You need a reporter following policy changes that could affect your childrens’ schools.

Journalists are trained to be the fourth estate—the unofficial branch of the government that monitors the political process to ensure the players don’t abuse the democratic process. That means they watch, they listen, they ask questions. But now there are fewer on the street asking those questions.

Journalists are also bound by a code of ethics in their newsroom and answer to editors who verify sources, strive for objectivity and hold them accountable. Sure, you can always find out more on the internet, but it’s caveat emptor. How do you know the author has checked sources or even if the author is a real person? And with a nod to history, most web-based content is only slightly better than the yellow journalism of 1900.

I never thought I would see the day when a local TV newsroom has more feet on the ground than the local paper. But that day is here.

If you’re interested, find me at mkathrynschmidt@gmail.com.