Woodward Feels Heat – Times Runs Amok?
It's clear today that Bob Woodward's involvement in the CIA leak case – and his decision not to reveal that involvement for more than two years – is now, officially, the latest Big Journalism Scandal. Woodward's behavior is reminding some of another such scandal, the one involving former New York Times reporter Judith Miller: "There are a number of ingredients in this unsavory stew that weirdly echo the Judith Miller imbroglio," wrote Rem Rieder in The American Journalism Review.
When we came into work this morning, we couldn't help but wonder: How would the Times cover the story? Would there be hints of Schadenfreude in their coverage? (FYI: scha•den•freu•de: Noun. German. "Pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others.") Would the Times revel in the fact that the wrath of media critics is suddenly shifting elsewhere? Would the paper try to cast Woodward in the worst possible light – and in the process help people forget a little more quickly about their dear departed "Ms. Run Amok?"
It's impossible to render an unassailable verdict one way or another, of course. Decisions about what details to put in a story, and what language to use, require journalistic judgment calls, and there is no one right answer. We're not going to try to force one down your throat. What we are going to do, however, is excerpt these two passages from the Times piece today on Woodward, for your close inspection. The italics are ours.
First, the lede:
For 30 years, Bob Woodward has reigned as a one-man investigative reporting franchise from his base at The Washington Post. With the blessing of Post management, he has juggled his roles as star reporter, assistant managing editor and best-selling author, managing to keep those roles from colliding.But collide they have, and in spectacular fashion, leading the country's most famous investigative reporter to issue an apology yesterday for failing to reveal his involvement in a major national investigation. His handling of the matter has now raised questions about his paper's credibility and has roiled The Post's newsroom.
And a little further down:
Mr. Woodward enjoys a unique, if not mythic, status at The Post and among journalists, stemming from his work with Carl Bernstein in uncovering Watergate. Now his withholding of the leak information from his paper has renewed questions about the potential conflicts of interest brought on by his multiple roles - as a reporter, editor and author, as well as a commentator on television and the lecture circuit.In this case, Mr. Woodward appeared on television discussing the C.I.A. leak investigation - and minimizing its importance - without his editors, his readers or his television viewers knowing he was privy to information for which other reporters had been subpoenaed.
Even as the role of reporters, including Judith Miller of The New York Times, became central to the case, Mr. Woodward concealed his own involvement, hindering his paper's ability to report fully on the leak investigation.
The Times also chose to publish an internal staff memo, not meant to be made public, in which Post reporters criticize Woodward. It called him one of a small number of "celebrity-journalists," and pointed out that he charges $10,000 to $50,000 per speaking appearance. It suggested that his speech last week before the Securities Industry Association may have violated Post guidelines. And it closed with a quote alleging that when one becomes as much of an insider as Woodward has become, you "inevitably" get "involved in a way that's very problematic for a journalist."
Now, the Times isn't the only newspaper taking a hard line. The Baltimore Sun, for example, goes hard at both Woodward and Miller:
The notion that Woodward appeared to be operating under his own rules echoes complaints about him in the past from fellow Post staff members, some of whom resented the fact that he sometimes withheld exclusive stories for books such as 'Bush at War' and 'Plan of Attack' rather than submit the information for publication in the paper.It also brought to mind a common view of Miller, who apparently failed to reveal to her editors the extent of her involvement in the Plame case and who unnerved many of her colleagues at The Times because, by her own admission, she did whatever she wanted for much of her career.
I want to underline a very important point: Just because one can assign a psychological motive to criticism doesn't mean that criticism is invalid. One might argue that the Sun is reveling in the opportunity to take its more prestigious peers down a peg. Or that the liberal bloggers who have been castigating Woodward to no end have a predisposition to dislike him because his insider status stands in such stark contrast to their outsider status. But such speculation can be unfair and hinder a serious discussion.
At the same time, there is an argument that all coverage is necessarily affected by outside factors. Those who allege media bias, for example, claim that reporters' ideological leanings, born of their environment and experiences, invariably color their reporting. So it's at least worth asking if the Times' own recent experiences have had an impact on its coverage of Woodward. Journalism doesn't occur in a vacuum, after all, and that's doubly true when it comes to journalism about journalism.