WHEN the Honolulu chapter of the National Society of Arts and Letters made me its 1998 honoree recently I wrapped up a delightful, light-hearted evening by trying to focus my thoughts on the state of my craft, journalism -- how it stands today and the outlook for the future. To frame my remarks I used two quotations from Thomas Jefferson. Media give the public
what it demandsIn 1787, 11 years after drafting the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson wrote: "Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter."
But 20 years later, near the end of his two terms as president of the United States, an honor he chose not to mention on his tombstone epitaph, he wrote with bitterness of the press:
"Perhaps an editor might begin a reformation in some such way as this: Divide his paper into four chapters: First -- Truths; Second -- Probabilities; Third -- Possibilities; Fourth -- Lies. The first chapter would be very short."
That bitterness and that judgment linger today. And yet the media never have been able to communicate so much information as now, never have had such diversity or free availability as now, never before have had the instantaneous global reach we now take for granted.
Could the disillusionment we have with the media lie with us? Are the media just reflecting our own self-centeredness, our own prurience, our own weakness for following demagogues, our own reluctance to face hard facts and our temptation to seek the gratification of entertainment in preference to digging hard for truth and understanding?
Humans still are made of the same clay as in Jefferson's day. We still have only 24 hours in a day. We still have to spend 10 or so of those in repair and maintenance. We still have limited time for information gathering.
But now we are offered hundreds, even thousands of choices as to how to allot that time. The editors who seek mass audiences, whether in print or electronically, must compete mightily to get us to give them a few minutes or a few hours of our day.
Sometimes that drives us to the lowest common denominator in fascinating and surprising ways.
Jim Becker, a top Associated Press writer and Star-Bulletin columnist now retired here, recalls a years-ago interview in which he expected to hear something profound when he asked the founder of National Geographic magazine to explain its success. The dignified Mr. Grosvenor told him: "Black tits, of course."
Grosvenor was referring to the magazine's almost monthly photo features on primitive tribes around the world. When I was a boy National Geographic was the only publication allowed in our house that showed topless women. I sought out those special pages whenever my parents weren't around. I didn't want them to catch me looking at them.
Grosvenor, of course, wrapped a very classy product around his titillating tribes. Not all mass media do.
Even so, today's First Chapter on Truths is much fuller than in Jefferson's day, in just about all our major publications, the Honolulu dailies included. Our shortcomings lie heavily in the direction of being unable to pour a gallon into a one-pint jar every day.
WITHIN our limitations, we strive harder to do our best than many critics think.
Yes, the Truth still battles to emerge above Lies (often from sources), Distortions and Carelessness. And, yes, peek-a-boo journalism, crime and violence frequently trump more sober reporting about the state of human affairs.
Perhaps it always will under a form of government that Winston Churchill called the worst in the world except for any other -- democracy.
When we get strongly critical of the media we must ask ourselves if we are just looking into a mirror and seeing ourselves. If we want whatever we define as "better" we likely will get it if enough of us demand it and are willing to give our time or money for it.
A.A. Smyser is the contributing editor
and former editor of the the Star-Bulletin
His column runs Tuesday and Thursday.