For some reason, it seems that every time I attend ESOF, I come bearing more bad news about the state of journalism, or at least its state on my side of the Atlantic.
Those of you who heard my presentation in Munich—although anyone who did probably would have wisely chosen to be somewhere else today—may remember that I reported on the sale of the highly respected Knight-Ridder Newspaper chain to the McClatchy Company, a little known conglomeration of small regional papers. I used this as an example of how stockholder demand for high earnings could force a prestigious but not very profitable media company to be taken over by one with little professional reputation but a proven ability to make money.
Ironically, just two years later, the McClatchy group itself is in deep financial trouble and, last month, announced it would cut 10 percent of its staff, including, one assumes, specialty writers such as those on the science beat. (N.B. In just the week preceding this meeting, several large US newspapers announced the planned reduction of staff positions, in the aggregate numbering more than 1000 jobs. The good news is, few of those will be science journalists. The bad news is that those jobs were already lost in the first round of cuts three to five years ago.)
US newspaper circulation –and advertising lineage--continues to fall precipitously, with overall revenue dropping nearly 8 percent last year. Magazines, too, face similar problems, as the American public increasingly turns to television, and particularly the cable networks, for its news.
Unfortunately, while science and technology news has always been a solid staple of quality print journalism, commercial television in the United States has never been very interested in covering science—except for the weather, especially floods and hurricanes, and occasional space activities, especially if they involve some catastrophic failures.
This means that science news is being squeezed out of the US mass media.
A Pew Trust survey of cable television published earlier this year showed that if you watched five hours of cable on a typical day during this election year, you’d get 35 minutes of politics, 36 minutes of debate over US foreign policy, 26 minutes of crime, 12 minutes of disasters, and 10 minutes of celebrity news…and, sadly enough, less than one minute of science news. [www.stateof thenewsmedia.com/2008]
It is no wonder that only about 11 percent of Americans can name a living “role model scientist” –and most of those name Bill Gates or Al Gore. [Science, Vol. 319, p. 1741, 28 March 2008]
Given the small—miniscule, really--role that science and technology plays in the modern news mix—at least in the United States—its seems almost irrelevant to discuss the ethics of science journalism.
Just getting one’s story on air or in print would seem challenge enough—let alone trying to address any broader ethical issues.
Still, in many other parts of the world, especially in those countries with booming economies and rising literacy rates, such as China, India, and Brazil, newspaper readership is not only surviving, but thriving. In India, for example, general newspaper circulation in rising by 5 percent per year. [“Newspapers on Upswing in Developing Markets,” NY Times, May 20, 2008]
The Times of India alone has grown by 10 percent in the past year, and, with 3.5 million copies printed daily, is now arguably the largest circulation English-language newspaper in the world. It is so successful, in fact that the New York Times Company hopes to acquire a 5 percent share. [MSNBC, June 20, 2008]
In addition to the growth of traditional--or “old”--media, these countries are also adopting newer forms and adapting them to their own cultures. As Fareed Zakaria of Newsweek International has reported, “India has 18 all-news channels of its own, and the perspectives they provide are very different from those …in the western media.” [“Imbalances of Power” by Thomas Friedman, NY Times, May 21, 2008]
One of those different perspectives is that on science and technology. Because science and technology have been such major contributors to the growth of these emerging economies, news coverage naturally reflects the importance of these subjects—to both the people and the governments of these countries.
Obviously, governments prefer to promote the benefits of development and underplay the downside of rapid, unplanned and uncontrolled growth, such as rampant corruption, excessive consumerism, industrial pollution, population displacement, environmental degradation, and economic disparities.
On the other hand, the public--especially those members who are benefiting from development, or hope that they will--is hungry for news of positive achievements, of research that will improve their lives and health, and of technology that will enhance the economy--and their own incomes.
In such an atmosphere, science journalists face interesting and challenging ethical dilemmas: Will they, because of their own natural interests and professional experience, become enthusiastic advocates for scientific research, and, by extension, adjuncts to governmental efforts to advance national goals?
Or, will they, if allowed, become adversaries of the governmental, industrial, and military interests that benefit from allowing the darker aspects of sci-tech booms to go unchecked?
If you are a science journalist, it is hard not to be enthusiastic about science—and an advocate for its place in society. The excitement of being part of a discovery, perhaps reporting it for the first time, of witnessing something new and different and wonderful, is all very seductive.
In addition, the very task of explaining a complex and complicated process or concept in simple, understandable language is so difficult and demanding that one often has neither the time or the inclination to go beyond the immediate results and look for broader, more long-term implications.
Moreover, the connection between reporter and source in science writing is perhaps more intense than in any other journalism genre, particularly because the writer is so dependent on the scientist, often the single source for the story, for not only the basic facts but guarantee of their accuracy .
In Europe and the US, enthusiastic and unquestioning advocacy for science is not uncommon, but it is usually tempered by several factors: a tradition of using multiple sources, an unlimited pool of equally qualified and sometimes contrarian experts, a highly competitive academic community, and peer pressure from fellow journalists pursuing the same story.
However, in those countries with clearly defined (or at least perceived) national sci-tech policies, there is little reason to dampen a reporter’s overly enthusiastic embrace of science’s wonders and potential. When reinforced by the rush that comes with writing popular stories that elicit positive public reaction, almost immediate feedback, and establishment approval, reporters can easily become uncritical cheerleaders for science --even without any official prodding.
Media cheerleaders are not limited to the developing world, of course. A classic case of press seduction is the love affair that developed between US space reporters and NASA, the US space agency, during the early days of human space flight. From Project Mercury right up until the loss of Space Shuttle Challenger, most US reporters chose to overlook technical flaws, operational glitches, and full-blown errors, happily accepting the NASA storyline that such problems were just part of the risk—and adventure--of being an astronaut.
Did this constitute an ethical lapse? Not necessarily. But it certainly was sloppy reporting—and those beat reporters who covered the space program paid a price for their bad practices. Within moments after the Challenger exploded into a million pieces, the NASA press operation was locked down –and those reporters who depended solely on NASA press releases were locked out. Eventually, it took outsider journalists, drawn from business, politics, and technology, to get the real story behind the shuttle failure.
The space shuttle example shows how easy it is to turn independent, if overly enthusiastic, Advocates into Adjuncts, semi-official spokespeople for government agencies and promoters of national policies. In Western democracies, science journalists at least have the freedom to decry these policies, if, through some insight, insider leak, or, less likely these days, real enterprising reporting, they learn that the policies are flawed.
Alas, in many other societies, science journalists don’t have this flexibility and they are forced to use the news that is provided by their governments. At the PCST meeting in Sweden last month, Jia Hepeng, coordinator for SciDev.Net in China and a Bosch Fellow at this meeting, noted that “despite the repeated calls for support from Chinese leaders, science reporting is in the decline ...in large part because of how information from science communities is transmitted to the general mass media. “
As an example, he noted that “the news releases produced by science institutes [in China] are more likely to be propaganda to appease scientific leaders rather than to engage the public.”
Sometimes, that propaganda becomes a blatant lie. This past February, Nature magazine reported that an award-winning photograph showing a herd of endangered antelopes passing safely and serenely beneath a passenger train rushing across a trestle bridge on the controversial Qinghai-Tibet Railway was a fake.
The Chinese government had been understandably pleased when the photograph first appeared, citing it as proof the railroad would have little adverse effect on wildlife. The photo was widely circulated, appearing in some 200 outlets around the world and even won a bronze medal in the 2006 Most Influential Photographs Contest sponsored by CCTV, China’s state television.
Unfortunately, the photo was in fact a clever computer-generated composite of two separate images-- one of the train passing over an empty valley and the other of the herd migrating through that same valley--shot at two different times. A nature expert explained there is no such thing as “harmonious coexistence” between train and antelopes and that they are never seen together. Or , as he put it: “The photographer fabricated and supplied the image the government badly wanted to see…” [Nature, Vol. 451, p. 1034, 28 Feb 2008] (N.B. Even as we were meeting, the Iranian government news released doctored photos of a missile test firing that showed four rockets successfully launched-although only three actually did so.)
Governments are not alone in using willing journalistic adjuncts. The media itself may sometimes engage in data manipulation for its own ends.
A year before the antelope photo story appeared, Nature reported on case of fakery on Japanese commercial television.
A popular weekly science show called Hakkutsu, broadcast by Kansai Telecasting Corporation, or KTV, reportedly faked research results and dubbed false words over the voices of foreign scientists in a program touting the supposed health benefits of the fermented bean paste known as miso.
In brief, the show’s producers claimed that eating natto, a gooey dish made from miso, could help one lose weight. Unfortunately, when pressed for proof, KTV admitted that most of the data had been fabricated, the attractively slimmed down people shown in television photos were not same ones who had participated in the experiment, and the purported measurements of reduced fat levels had not even been made.
Nature cited several other dubious programs then under investigation for data manipulation, including one that claimed certain chemicals in lettuce could induce sleep, another on the power of adzuki beans to invigorate the brain, and another on the so-called “science of face-thinning.”
The President of Japan’s Science Council argued that council guidelines on academic fraud should apply to anyone doing experiments, even those on TV shows. However, he expressed little hope that TV producers would follow the guidelines. As he so succinctly put it: “Their goal is not scientific truth: it’s ratings.” [Nature, Vol 445, p 804-805, 22 Feb 2007]
Blatant propaganda and outright fakery may be obvious examples of ethical lapses. However, the ethical implications of using self-serving institutional press releases—which are not unknown in the West, by the way, having written some myself—are not as clear-cut. Nor is it clear how to judge the ethics of journalists who may have no choice but to deal with the official party line.
Moreover, governments, research laboratories, and industries can also very simply control the coverage of science and technology just by controlling access to information.
This very simple, but most effective, technique of news control was most evident during the SARS epidemic, when the Chinese government either under-reported or completely denied the extent of the illness and its potential global impact. Reporters for state-controlled media—clearly official adjuncts of the government—repeated the official line until the scope of the epidemic became impossible to deny. Ironically, it was the smaller, semi-independent news outlets in China that first challenged the government’s official pronouncements.
Media control was challenged again, and quite effectively, during the horrendous earthquake in China earlier this year. Simply ignoring government restrictions, media representatives from around China—and indeed, the world—streamed into the stricken area to provide unprecedented coverage of the death and destruction.
Alas, that initial openness and transparency has been severely constrained more recently, particularly after embarrassing questions began to be raised about the shoddy construction of public buildings, especially schools. Concern over bad publicity as time for the Olympics drew near also played a role in the renewed restrictions.(N.B. The restrictive policies have dramatically increased since my talk-and show little sign of being lifted during the Games.)
Still, it is clear that major changes are occurring in how science journalists see their roles in countries like China, with a gradual shift from serving as “advocate/adjuncts” to behaving more as “advocate/adversaries.”
In truth, the term “advocacy journalism”—at least as used in the United States—has usually applied to those journalists who pursue a single point of view, promoting a cause or an issue, not always but quite often, at odds with establishment viewpoints or official policies.
For example-- and in all fairness--I should note that the faked antelope photo was originally revealed by just such a group of advocate/adversaries –a Chinese on-line photography forum. Similarly, the Japanese television bean paste scandal was uncovered by Japanese science reporters in the print media who looked skeptically at the data and asked the embarrassing question that led to exposure of the fraud.
Writing in the journal Foreign Affairs about the prospects for democracy in China, John Thorman of the Brookings Institute notes that one “promising trend is the rapid commercialization of the Chinese press. .. As independent Chinese publications seek readers and advertisers, they pursue stories that people want to read; [and] like their counterparts in the West, they have discovered that investigative journalism sells.”
[ “Long Time Coming: The Prospects for Democracy in China” John L. Thorman. Foreign Affairs, Volume 87, No. 1, January-February 2008]
Whether science journalism specifically will benefit from this commercialization is a question. Speaking at last year’s World Congress of Science Journalists in Australia, Jia Hepeng noted the increasing marginalization of science journalism in his country. As he put it, market-oriented publishers don’t see science stories as having popular appeal, as opposed to exposes of official corruption or features on ways to improve health, beauty or income. Ironically, then, science coverage—even if constrained by what information is supplied through official news releases—may have fared somewhat better under a semi-benign government system. [N.B. Viola Ekigova, speaking in this same seminar, noted a similar irony in the coverage of science before and after the fall of the Soviet regime.)
By contrast, science coverage seems to be flourishing in the commercialized press of India. The sheer diversity of the Indian popular media—and its long and protected tradition of press freedom—encourage a diversity of viewpoints and a plethora of niche media.
Obviously, this also creates an atmosphere conducive to advocacy journalism and, in the areas of sustainable development and environmental protection, Indian advocate/adversary reporters have gained international attention.
Let me cite two Indian colleagues—both members of ISWA—who exemplify this type of advocate/ adversary. Darryl D’Monte and Pallava Bagla are highly respected professional journalists who write on variety of sci-tech subjects, as well as politics and policy issues affecting South Asia—Darryl for the Times of India, among other outlets, and Pallava for Science magazine and Indian television. Pallava is also attending this meeting as a Bosch Fellow.
But both men are also highly opinionated and subjective writers, who are deeply committed advocates for protection of the environment. As such, they are often in conflict with powerful governmental, political, and industrial interests and their reporting—I should say, writing, for it is often more akin to editorializing than reporting—is not ambiguous in any way. It is squarely on the side of the environment.
Even more opinionated--and adversarial--are the activist journalists of India’s Centre for Science and Environment. Founded in 1982 by the late Anil Agarwal to address the specific problem of air pollution caused by New Delhi’s diesel-guzzling buses, the CSE is now headed by Agarwal acolyte Sunita Narain. Her group’s focus has expanded to five areas of concern: air pollution, climate change, water management, pesticides, and poverty eradication.
The group gained international attention when it took on soft-drink giants Coca-Cola and PepsiCO.
In 2006, a CSE technical analysis showed that 12 popular drinks produced in India contained levels of toxic pesticides up to 36 times the levels acceptable for European bottled water. Four Indian states immediately banned sales of the drinks in public buildings. The subsequent publicity—first in CSE’s own magazine and on its website and later in the national and international press-- sent Coca-Cola sales falling by 18 percent.
(Such activism is not without risks, of course. In her on-line newsletter this May, Narain reported that protestors apparently organized by the pesticide industry had moved their demonstrations from the CSE’s office to her private home, where they were harassing her 80-year-old mother.)
Although basically a cadre of journalists, CSE also maintains a small staff of scientists who conduct the research on which its reports are based. This may not make the group unique—but it certainly makes it hard to define. Nature, for example, in a profile of Sunita Narain in February 2007, alternately referred to CSE as an NGO, an environmental pressure-group, a watchdog, and a lobby group. These are hardly terms one usually applies to journalistic enterprises. [Nature, Vol 445, pp 706-708, 15 February 2007]
Does this make CSE’s work –or that of D’Monte and Bagla, for that matter—somehow unethical? I suspect not by the standards of most journalists in the developing world—and probably not those of most people in this room.
Interestingly, however, this activist, or advocacy, approach does violate what was once a basic hallmark of North American journalism—“complete objectivity”—a professional standard that supposedly set American journalism apart from that practiced elsewhere in the world.
Basically, the US definition of “objectivity “ means that journalists are politically and ideologically neutral in reporting a story, and the reporter’s own feelings, opinions, or beliefs are never apparent. Any such comments or opinions should be left to the Editorial Page writers or Op-Ed columnists.
In practice, “objectivity” also meant that all points of view on an issue—no matter how stupid or outlandish or downright wrong—should be expressed in a news story. Such an approach was considered fair and balanced—and ethical.
Obviously, objectivity, not to make too fine a point, is really subjective. Each reporter has different ideas of what is fair and just. Moreover, it is very hard to separate oneself completely from any story. To not form some opinion is contrary to human nature. As is distancing oneself emotionally from one’s sources. It is especially hard to ignore basic facts…or to give weight to obvious falsehoods. And we all know that reporters can determine the tone of a story not only by what they put in, but by what they leave out.
In addition, strictly following the principle of objectivity—especially as preached and practiced in the US—can create a special problem. Clever public relations people and representatives of special interest groups know they can get their own opposing viewpoints into print simply by presenting themselves to reporters as alternative sources or contrarian voices on an issue.
Consider this classic example: For years, the US tobacco industry hired its own stable of so-called medical experts who could offer research results that, while not explicitly disputing the evidence that smoking caused lung cancer, might at least cast doubt on those findings.
More recently, as Chris Mooney and others have shown, the oil and coal industries sponsored their own set of scientists who could offer either alternative natural scenarios for global warming, such as long-term solar heating cycles, or who could produce complicated counter-arguments highlighting the uncertainty in climate modeling.
The American media’s principle of “objectivity” demanded that these scientists be given time and space equal to those arguing for human-caused climate change. In several instances, more akin to the Chinese government practice, the Bush administration manipulated official reports to gain press coverage reflecting industry--or anti-warming-- views.
Who bears the blame for these ethical lapses? Can one really fault journalists who are following standard (US, at least) practices? And, since there was (and always will be) some uncertainly in the climate models, might it be fair to include alternative views? Objectivity, obviously, poses its own ethical dilemmas.
But even tougher ethical questions may emerge as the public increasingly turns to the Internet for its news and information.
One of the ironies of the so-called “new media” is that most on-line news content is now actually supplied by “old media.” According to the Pew Trust’s 2007 survey of media, the top on-line news sites in the US were those web pages produced by traditional newspapers—the NY Times, the LA Times, the Washington Post—plus the on- line versions of National Public Radio and the three national television networks--CBS, NBC, and ABC. (Other studies in Europe find similar trends, with the BBC’s on-line version extremely popular among web surfers in Britain.)
Visitors to these sites simply see the same news they might have read in the printed pages of the Times or seen on the flat-screen TVs in their living rooms. Sometimes, as in the case of the newspapers, the electronic formats duplicate exactly the original print versions.
What is troubling for the future of news is that the same studies find that advertising is not following the news on-line, so the old media—the periodicals and over-the-air broadcast outlets that are already cutting staff –may find it very difficult to sustain their current levels of news coverage.
Alternatives to the current model are already seen in the inexorable rise of blogs, wikis, and citizen journalism. Unfortunately, blogs tend to be long on opinion and short on news, with most showing no original reporting. Wikis, while supposedly representing the wisdom of the many, too often demonstrate the madness of crowds. And citizen journalism, while great at covering video-rich crime or celebrity news, does not work quite as well for complicated science stories requiring careful explanations and long exposition.
Another troubling ethical issue lies in the way people use the Web for information gathering.
Actually, at the present time, only a relatively small proportion of the American public uses the Internet as its first or primary source of hard, or breaking news. For that, television is still the preferred medium for most Americans.
On the other hand, people seeking specific information about science and technology topics, and especially health questions, increasingly choose the Internet. It has become the prime source for what communications gurus call “news that you can use.”
Perhaps not so surprising, the American public demonstrates a good deal of sophistication in seeking this information. Studies show that most people use the same standards as journalists to select credible sources on the web. That is, if they have a medical problem, say psoriasis, they go to the site of a dermatology association rather than the site of pharmaceutical company—and certainly not the personal blog of someone with similar skin problems. In short, they look for and find unbiased, professional advice, not amateur opinion or industry hype.
For now, most Americans can be reasonably assured of finding such professional advice on line. As traditional newspapers have cut back on science news coverage, many former staff writers have gravitated toward news, information, and education jobs with scientific and medical research organizations. Often they serve as web content providers or editors.
I’d describe these writers as “Adjuncts by Accident.” Or, “Incidental Adjuncts.”
But what about the next generation of sci-tech PR people who will come directly to their jobs without exposure to the values and standards of the newsroom?
This is not their fault, of course, since the jobs in the media may simply not exist in the future. But the question remains: When the main source of information about a subject is the organization that produced that information, who will monitor the producer? What ethical standards can be applied to this type of science journalism? And who will be qualified to judge ethical behavior?
Let me describe one example of a well-intentioned, well-designed, and well-received educational site that has raised these very questions among US science journalists.
Writing in the newsletter of the US national association, media consultant and environmental journalist Jane Ellen Stevens described “The Great Turtle Race” a project she called “…A Really Different Kind of Journalism.”
This web-based program, designed to spotlight the plight of Pacific leatherback turtles, an ancient species now on the brink of extinction, went far beyond traditional journalism—even by modern multi-media standards. In it, Stevens teamed up with researchers who attached tiny radio transmitters to female turtles to track their migratory patterns. Together they turned the turtle’s annual swim from nesting beaches in Costa Rican to the Galapagos Islands into a race that could be followed in real time on line by nature lovers around the world.
Computers zeroed out the departure times of each turtle a la the bikers in the Tour de France and, computer animation allowed individual journeys to be charted as paths on screen. The site had other features: turtle biographies, background information on tagging and preservation efforts, profiles of people involved in saving the turtles, educational materials and blogs, and information on how the public cold get more involved in leatherback protection and preservation.
A collaborative effort of three non-profit conservation groups, plus Costa Rica’s environmental agency and Internet provider Yahoo!, the site even attracted businesses interested in their “green images.” Companies were invited to pay $25,000 each to sponsor a turtle, with the monies used to support the tagging and tracking operations.
Thousands of people--teachers, students, environmentalists, conservationists, and journalists--visited the site. Indeed, during the two weeks of the race, the site logged 3 million hits from some 650, 000 distinct visitors. And an estimated 137 million people around the world saw heard or read coverage of the race in the international press. Stevens was justifiably proud of the success—and her subsequent development of a new web site sponsored by one of the participating non-profits that will continue to promote the protection of the turtles. [Science Writers, Volume 56, No.4, pp 5-6, Fall 2007]
The next issue of the NASW newsletter brought conflicting comments from members, reflecting the ambiguity over what is considered “science journalism”—and concern over what shape it may take in the future.
On the positive side, Sharon Dunwoody, a professor of science journalism, saw Stevens’ program as an indication of “what will constitute science journalism in the 21st Century.” Dunwoody thought this “kind of multimedia packaging took explanation--something that reporters have always valued--to a whole new level…” As she put it, “allowing the audience to follow their favorite leatherbacks around the ocean, in real time, creates intense motivation to learn more about their risky lives…and if a journalist can match a need to learn with good explanatory content, she may enable audiences to build a much richer understanding of the topic at hand.”
Boyce Rensberger, former director of the Knight Science Journalism Program at MIT, had less positive view. Stevens’ site might be “entertainment, even education, “he noted. “ But it definitely was not journalism. “
“Just imagine what we would say,” Rensberger wrote, “ if a similar website, developed with the collaboration of , say Exxon-Mobil, were to teach the public about oil geology and the marvel of solar energy captured in prehistoric times and stored underground. [Or] if Monsanto collaborated on a website that explained plant physiology and how it can be modified by spraying the plant with Monsanto’s products…”
He also questioned her notion that “scientific institutions now have an opportunity to hire science journalists to build communities...” In response, Rensberger asked: “Are journalists for hire by those they cover? Wouldn’t such a hire instantly convert a journalist into a public relations person?” [ScienceWriters, Vol.57, No.1, pp.25-26 Winter 2007-08]
In short, market conditions in the US—and elsewhere—are turning many once adversarial science journalists into accidental or unintended adjuncts to special interests—some of them benign and beneficial, others not so.
If deciding what is good—or ethical –journalism in the United States is so problematic, how can we expect to do it on an international scale, where standards and values are shaped by widely varying national and cultural traditions?
Interestingly enough, scientists face the same problems in their attempt to investigate international misconduct. As a commentary in Nature last April noted: “The rise in cross-border collaborations is making it more difficult to police misconduct. “
Unlike journalists, scientists have a long history of international cooperation, as well as experience in relying on the guidance of large multi-national, multi-disciplinary groups, such as ICSU, Unesco, and the European Science Foundation. Thus, last year, the Global Science Forum of the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) formed a Coordinating Committee for Facilitating Research Misconduct Investigations, representing some 14 countries and international bodies. Several working groups have been established to address the issue and the hope is that by the end of this year there will be a handbook on how to approach misconduct cases in international collaborations as well as a directory of who to call in each country. [Nature Vol 452, pp 686-687, 10 April 2008]
It probably is too much to imagine that journalists can get so organized. Or, that clear definitions of what constitutes unethical behavior can be established. Science misconduct is not necessarily easier to spot, but at least science has peer review prior to publication. In journalism, peer review usually comes after the fact.
Still, peer pressure—even after publication-- can be a powerful force in policing science journalism. And, two examples –again from American journalism—offer models for how that policing can might be done—and pressure applied.
First, the Knight Science Journalism Tracker, an on-line service of the Knight Fellowships at MIT, literally tracks and reports on the daily coverage of major science stories by main-stream media in the United States ( with occasional looks at how the same stories were covered in other English-language media in Britain, Canada, and Australia) Conducted by the remarkable Charlie Petit, a former science journalist, the service doesn’t ( well, not often ) comment on the accuracy or ethical aspects of stories, but, by printing ledes, headlines, and appropriate excerpts and providing hyperlinks to the full text, it allows other journalists to judge the quality of coverage for themselves. [www.ksjtracker.mit.edu]
The second relevant model is the “Darts and Laurels” feature of The Columbia University Journalism Review. This column surveys the US press to gather representative examples of excellent, unbiased, public service journalism. And these are matched against examples of less professional and often unethical exercises in journalism that served a medium--or its owners and advertisers--more than its audiences. [www.cjr.org]
Luckily, international science journalism has two forums where both of these devices for could be adopted and adapted to our special needs.
The first is the SciDev.Network. While primarily a source of science news for, by, and about the developing world, it also has several features on its website designed to enhance the professional skills of its journalistic audience, for example, guides to science writing and dossiers on specific topics of interest to the developing world. I propose that a new feature be added—similar to the Knight Tracker, but focusing on how the same stories are covered by different news media around the world.
The second forum is the World Federation of Science Journalists (WFSJ), an umbrella group representing some three dozen national and regional science journalism associations around the world. Rapidly emerging as a major force in international science communication, the Federation sponsors a long-distance peer-to-peer mentoring program and encourages the partnership of established journalism associations with newly formed organizations in the developing world. It also holds bi-annual congresses, at which young new reporters from the developing world can meet their more experienced colleagues in person. The next Congress will be in London next summer.
Since the Federation also has a lively webpage and an electronic newsletter sent to member organizations, it could easily produce an international version of “Darts and Laurels.” Again, I propose that such a feature be created, perhaps in cooperation with the SciDev.network, which could provide the basic journalistic raw material through its own tracking service.
I don’t think either effort should require much work, because, aside from those few and quite obvious ethical lapses cited earlier, I find most science journalism, at all levels, in all parts of the world, to be of quite high professional quality. Naturally, journalists respond to the ethical standards of the particular cultures in which they live and work, but the recent joining of disparate national groups under the umbrella of the World Federation has led to an awareness of more universal norms.
In general, I think science journalists can be proud of themselves. They do a tough job in tough political and economic times, with little reward beyond the joy of sharing in interesting, sometimes even important, discoveries. Occasionally, they may even help advance society a notch or two.
Both audiences and sources should feel confident in their integrity, sincerity, dedication, and honest—if not always successful-- attempt to get the science right.
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