Journalism Today: Ken Auletta

by John Elsasser

Auletta spoke this month with the Public Relations Society of America (PRSA)'s editor of "The Strategist" about the relationship between the corporate media and the corporate world:

"You have said growing up that you had this romantic vision of the life of a reporter. Do you still have that vision today?"

Oh, I think journalism is a way to effect change. I don't mean by grinding an ax to advance a particular point of view. The information that journalism provides is vital to the functioning of a democracy. If you can help explain things, people and issues, you're a teacher. You're basically a public servant in the best sense of the word. That's how I view it.

You're advancing democracy because you're educating, explaining and hopefully sorting out what's true and what's not. Obviously, if you do investigative reporting, you could help uncover wrongdoing or people who need help, or show government abuse or corporate abuse.

"You talk about doing journalism properly. This year, there have been scandals involving inflated circulation figures, faulty coverage about weapons of mass destruction by the New York Times and reporter Jack Kelley's alleged deceptions at USA Today, among others. Is there more of a crisis today in journalism or have we just been paying more attention since Jayson Blair's journalistic misdeeds came to light at the Times during the spring of 2003? "

There's more of a crisis in journalism, and the crisis is not Jayson Blair or even Jack Kelley. What they did is egregious, but they were bad apples. I don't think they are typical any more than Janet Cooke was typical of the "Washington Post" years ago.

The problem in journalism is the barrel that holds the apples. That barrel contains incentives for people to do bad journalism. I don't mean cheating and lying. I mean shortcuts that take you away from the truth or from in-depth reporting. I'm not saying the barrel is rotten. I'm saying it's rotting.

Business pressures journalism to get better ratings, better circulation. Those business pressures compel journalists to go for the sensational, the conflict stories, the kind of stories that might command readers' or viewers' or listeners' attention. These stories are the most exciting, not [necessarily] the most important, things that happened yesterday. You get wall-to-wall Michael Jackson or Scott Peterson coverage, or the latest murder sensation scandal stories.

Reporters say, "I'd like to spend three weeks doing an investigation of X," or "I'd like to do a serious exploration of corporate governance issues." But editors, under business pressure from their distant corporate bosses, are saying, "I can't spare you for two or three weeks to do a story like that. I need to maximize your productivity. We've closed overseas bureaus. I've got to get more stories, and I have to get stories that will deal with my declining circulation problems or ratings problems."

And that's an overwhelming problem in journalism that has been worsened by two things: First is the corporatization of the media. These giant companies own journalistic entities but are run by businesspeople who are concerned about stock price or margins or declining ratings. They look at it and say, "How do we apply business logic to this situation?" Well the truth is, for much of its existence, journalism had often been treated differently than other businesses. It was a public trust, but that has diminished. That's worrisome.

The other thing is that technology opens up the Internet or handheld devices so you can receive instant, portable news. You don't need a wire anymore to get it. Increasingly people's attention is diverted, so newspaper circulation and television ratings go down, and the businesspeople behind those channels or networks or newspapers become alarmed. They say, "I've got to start cutting costs." As you cut costs, you often cut news, and you start saying, "Well how do I get those ratings up or circulation up?" They resort to O.J. Simpson or Laci Peterson coverage.

"Is there a way to educate corporate executives about the value of good news reporting?"

The argument I make is about brands. Corporate America loves to talk about brands; they love to talk about extending the brand. If you're talking about journalism, the brand is credibility. That means if you're in journalism and you lose your credibility, you lose your brand.

Somehow we have to convince the businesspeople who sign our checks, and we have to talk in a language they can understand. We understand the need for profits, but if we cut back on bureaus or news coverage and do more frivolous news, we will not be trusted by our readers or viewers anymore. Therefore, we won't have credibility, and you won't have a brand.

A brand doesn't come cheap. So maybe you have to start educating shareholders, Mr. Corporate CEO, that you can't have the same profit margins from journalism. Journalism is an inherently wasteful business. It's not efficient. The first time Larry Tisch, who owned CBS, went to the Rome bureau in the fall of 1986, he was shocked. He saw all these people sitting around the office. He wondered what they were doing, since they were just sitting there. Howard Stringer, the acting president of news, said to him, "Larry, they're waiting for calls to be returned, they're waiting for flight schedules to come, they're waiting for . . ."

You spend a lot of time waiting. You don't control when other people will decide to talk to you. You made 15 phone calls, and you're waiting for them to be returned. You're waiting to get something in the mail. You're waiting because there's only one flight out a day. That's the journalistic life. It's wasteful sometimes. It's not a factory where you control production.

"Some pundits claim reporters today have become lazy. For example: They never leave their desks. They can go to corporate Web sites and get the information they need."

That is a great benefit and a curse. The benefit is that I can do a lot of research on the Internet by just going to Web sites. The curse is if your editors and your owners say, "Why do you have to leave the office?" You can do two stories a day on the Web, but that's not reporting. That's stenography.

You've got to see people and get that nuance and, you know, watch their eyebrows when they talk. If you have a choice, you always want to do an in-person interview, particularly for in-depth interviews, because you want to see someone and make a connection and hopefully get them to talk about things that are not programmed.

"In general, is journalism losing public trust?"

Polls show it is. That's worrisome.

"Are polls then one way to get the attention of media executives?"

Absolutely. It goes right to the credibility or brand argument. We don't have subpoena power in journalism. People don't have to talk to us, and if they don't trust us, they won't, so trust is essential to doing our job. One of the things that hurts us is when journalists go on television to bloviate and announce their opinions. They're supposed to be straight reporters, but suddenly they're announcing opinions and never showing any humility.

"If I'm the senior vice president of corporate communications at a company, and you're a reporter requesting to talk to my CEO, should I let you? Some in the PR profession are grappling with these issues."

When I do a long "New Yorker" profile, I need the cooperation of the PR people. They can kill it in the early stages. If it's a corporate profile, my job is to understand how the company works. You've got to convince them that you're fair, you listen and you're not some kind of journalistic hit man. You've got to be sincere. When they see you, they should feel like you're telling the truth. Obviously if you work for a place like "The New Yorker" where you have more space and time to do a story, it's easier to convince people you're not going to make a cartoon out of it.

"Given your status as a leading journalist and the reputation of 'The New Yorker,' do you have difficulty getting access to executives?"

The submerged part of the journalistic iceberg when you do long-form journalism is how much effort goes into getting people to talk. People don't just stop everything and say, "Oh, please, I've been waiting for you to call. I'd love to give five hours of my time."

A courtship process is involved. They've got concerns that you've got to allay. If you're doing a piece, someone may say, "You want to sit in on my business meetings? What if I'm talking about a prospective deal or numbers that haven't been published yet? Are you going to talk about what clients I'm talking to or what my clients say to me? Are you going to listen in on my phone conversations?"

People have lots of questions that are perfectly legitimate. They're going to ask and you better have answers. Sometimes the answers come easy. If I'm in your office and I hear about a prospective deal, I won't write about it. That's so easy. It would be illegal if I did. I can't divulge stuff that hasn't come out yet. If you're involved in negotiations, I don't know whether it's illegal, but I wouldn't do it.

It's easy for me to say, "I won't do that. I'm not looking for a headline. I'm looking to understand someone." Obviously I'd love to have a headline and break news if I can. But ultimately you have got to get in that door in a way that doesn't violate your readers' trust or the subject's trust.

"I understand that Bill Gates still doesn't talk to you."

He doesn't. He's not a big fan. It happens. He's not the only one. That's what happens sometimes when someone cooperates with you. In Gates' case, he has lots of reasons to be pleased with the book ["World War 3.0: Microsoft and Its Enemies"] and the piece I did in "The New Yorker". The judge talked to me and said things that helped Microsoft on its appeal. Some of Microsoft was pleased about that, but Gates was displeased that I portrayed him as a child who could have settled this without going to trial.

What happens is that when people cooperate with you, inevitably they spend a lot of time with you. They feel like they want you to love them. If you don't love them or if you portray them with their warts as well as their virtues, sometimes they get angry and feel betrayed. It's a natural human reaction. It happens a lot. And I've experienced that and I understand it now.

The word I'll often use is betrayed, which is a word that scares you because you say, "Betrayed? I didn't violate any confidence; I didn't break any rules." But, you know, they come to think of you as their biographer.

"An article headlined "Answer the &$%#* Question!" in the January-February Columbia Journalism Review was critical of media training. You've talked with many executives during your career. What's your take on executives receiving tips on delivering key messages and speaking clearly and concisely in preparation for speaking with you?"

What you always want in journalism is to get beyond talking points and spin -- be that spin from the CEO or one of his or her executives or from a PR person. Good PR people are one of my most important allies because they're not only helping me get through doors, they're providing me with information, and, oftentimes, with context. I need them to set up interviews, explain things, follow up with information I need or suggest information that I don't know to ask for. A good PR person is invaluable for journalists to do their job.

But I don't like the media-trained person or executive because I don't want someone who's a robot talking to me. I'm investing a tremendous amount of time, and I'm asking them to get rid of the speech and get rid of the wall. Let's just talk. I'm not looking to go through divorce papers here. I'm trying to figure out how something works or what someone is like. I can't do that if they're mechanized. So for me it's counterproductive, frankly.

I see that, and I say, "This is not a smart PR person and this is not a smart CEO." They should understand that if someone calls up for a paragraph response from the AP, maybe that kind of spin works. But when you do it with someone who's investing time, like you would be for a "New Yorker" story or a book, it's counterproductive. I find myself put off by it.

"I suppose you feel the same way if the PR person sits in the room while you interview the executive."

I'd prefer they not, but I understand that some do. I do prefer that they don't sit behind me if they sit in the room. I don't want the executive looking at the PR person when I ask a question - that drives me crazy. I will stop an interview and ask them to please not sit there.

I would prefer just a one-on-one, and, at some point, you will be one-on-one. But certainly, in the initial interviews, I don't object [to the PR person's presence]. I would object if the executive is getting signals from the PR guy.

"What are your daily sources for news?"

I read about seven papers in the morning. I get up early and I read the "New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, Financial Times, New York Daily News, New York Post" and "USA Today". Then I go online and I read. I read some bloggers, and I get a tremendous number of things just pushed to me.

And the magazines. "The New Yorker, Economist, Time, Newsweek, U.S. News & World Report, BusinessWeek, Fortune, New Republic" and "The Nation". I just read too many magazines -- it cuts into my book time.

"Sounds as if you need to enter a 12-step program to curb your news addiction."

I probably need that or an Evelyn Wood speed-reading course.