It's clear from the reaction to my posting, that NPR's policy on the use of the word "torture" is one NPR's audience feels strongly about.

For the record, I have brought this issue and the volume of comments to the attention of NPR's top editorial staff. I do want to point out that it's been misreported that NPR has banned the use of the word, "torture." If you read the NPR policy in the previous posting, that is not the case.

I'd like to succinctly restate what I, as a journalist with almost 30 years' experience, believe to be the most important point. I recognize that some will attack me as a shill for NPR.

I am not shilling for NPR. I don't agree with its use of bureaucratic euphemisms like "enhanced interrogation techniques."

But I am shilling for strong, credible journalism that is as objective as humanly possible. I am shilling for NPR to practice journalism based on putting out reliable information, to the best of its ability -- without taking sides -- so the public can make its own informed decisions.

My sense is that many of you instead want NPR to adopt the position you believe in because you think that position is the correct one. I respect your views. But I would ask you to respect that reasonable people can differ.

I believe that it is not the role of journalists to take sides or to characterize things.

So again, instead of using loaded language -- and the word "torture" is loaded -- I advocate that NPR describe interrogation techniques in detail. Glenn Greenwald of Salon.com said that by describing waterboarding as I did, I made it "pleasant-sounding" and "clinical," which baffles me.

To me, the word "waterboarding" alone sounds like what you might do at an amusement park. But if you describe it as tying someone to a board, pouring water down his mouth and nose to create a sense of drowning-- anyone would understand how terrifying that can be.

But no matter how many distinguished groups -- the International Red Cross, the U.N. High Commissioners -- say waterboarding is torture, there are responsible people who say it is not. Former President Bush, former Vice President Cheney, their staff and their supporters obviously believed that waterboarding terrorism suspects was necessary to protect the nation's security.

One can disagree strongly with those beliefs and their actions. But they are due some respect for their views, which are shared by a portion of the American public. So, it is not an open-and-shut case that everyone believes waterboarding to be torture. Many in NPR's audience obviously believe it is, but others do not.

The main argument of my column was that NPR should describe waterboarding rather than use coded language to characterize it. Another alternative is to quote responsible officials who have described it as torture, for example President Obama and Attorney General Eric Holder.

There are plenty of commentators, pundits and cable news shows who give opinions rather than facts. As a news consumer, I prefer to get the facts and then decide what I think.

I admit that a linguist gave me pause when he said that if an American journalist were captured in Iran and slammed against a wall repeatedly, or waterboarded or had his fingernails pulled out, many American journalists would say that the Iranian government had tortured the correspondent.

But if I heard a report saying a reporter was tortured, without any details, my first question would be: What do you mean by tortured? Describe exactly what happened so I can decide how to characterize it.

Again, I respect your views and have read your comments.

I hope that most NPR listeners would be willing to give some credence to an alternative viewpoint -- a viewpoint that says journalists should strive to avoid taking sides and using loaded language in a contentious debate about the rightness or wrongness of a public policy.

Edit: This blog entry was written by Anna Tauzin, the intern in the Ombudsman's office.

Recently, several listeners have written the Ombudsman about guidelines surrounding posting anonymously on NPR.org. They noticed that some people provide their real name while others use a pseudonym to leave comments.

NPR wants to engage listeners in discussion in the comment section following every online article, including the Ombudsman column. The preference is that people use their real names; we think this practice promotes a tone of civility and responsibility.

That said, NPR cannot outright ban someone who doesn't use their real name simply because there is no way to enforce it. Anyone can use a pseudonym. Raquel Smythe could, in reality, be Jennifer Jones.

When comments pop up from users with an obvious fake name, i.e. "CatLover42" or "Number One," NPR usually doesn't delete their account if they are playing by the rules. However, if someone uses the shield of anonymity to troll others, NPR's digital team will block his or her use of the site.

NPR is keenly aware of the issue of privacy on the Internet. There are times when a person should be able to contribute to the online discussion without revealing their identity.

Andy Carvin, a senior project manager in social media at NPR, said, "[It is] one of the reasons why we can't have a zero-tolerance ban on fake names, because sometimes that's the only way some people can participate. But it's definitely a double-edged sword."

When it comes to online commenting, you have to ease the rules a bit and accept the sometimes disheveled democratic nature of the Web.

What do you think? Does it really matter if someone uses a pseudonym instead of his or her real name?

Anna Tauzin

The Ombudsman's office has received a slew of emails challenging NPR's policy of using the words "harsh interrogation tactics" or "enhanced interrogation techniques" to describe the treatment of terrorism suspects under the Bush administration.

Some say that by not using the word "torture" NPR is serving as right-wing apologists for water-boarding and other methods of extracting information.

"I have been swallowing my tongue for 8 years listening to politicians and news people use fuzzy, inexact language when reporting on our various military engagements ("war on terror" e.g.)," wrote Daryl Makosky of Wheat Ridge, CO. "But let's call a spade a spade. The Bush administration agreed that methods such as water boarding were torture. Then they promised the US didn't practice torture. Now, thanks to the release of the CIA memos, we know they did.

"So let's not mince words and use euphemisms like "harsh interrogation tactics," Makosky continued. "What the United States promoted and allowed to happen under the Bush administration was the TORTURE of prisoners of war and I would hope that my most-respected news source, NPR, wouldn't pussy-foot around this topic."

How should NPR describe the tactics used to coerce information out of terrorism suspects?

Ted Koppel, the former ABC Nightline host and commentator on Talk of the Nation, said in May that the U.S. should "define it [torture] as being any technique or practice which, when applied to an American prisoner in some other country or captured by some other entity, that we would object to. If we object to it being done to an American, then I think it's torture."

That seems clear enough, but the problem is that the word torture is loaded with political and social implications for several reasons, including the fact that torture is illegal under U.S. law and international treaties the United States has signed.

Both Presidents Bush and Obama have insisted that the United States does not use torture. Officials during the Bush administration acknowledged the use of what they called "enhanced interrogation techniques."

Also, not all interrogation could be classified as torture. Sleep deprivation, nudity and facial slaps are different from, say, pouring water on a cloth over someone's face for 20 to 40 seconds to create the sensation of drowning -- a practice known as waterboarding.

Scott Horton is a lawyer and blogger for The Atlantic who has written about the subject of torture. He points to George Orwell's 1946 essay: Politics and the English Language. "The thrust of the piece is we have to be on guard against the government debasing of language through the use of euphemisms," said Horton.

"So in not using the word torture, you are toeing the line the government put down and you are being hypocritical if you previously had used the word," said Horton, who noted the New York Times used the word torture in its reporting on the Communist Khmer Rouge regime in the 1970s.

"And the media is affecting the debate because you are saying it is a legitimate question and that reasonable people could differ on whether waterboarding is torture or not," he continued. "The media pulling back from the use of the word legitimized the views that waterboarding is not torture. As a result of the way it's treated by the media, most Americans really think this is an open question." Please listen to Horton discussing this with On The Media.

It's a no-win case for journalists. If journalists use the words "harsh interrogation techniques," they can be seen as siding with the White House and the language that some U.S. officials, particularly in the Bush administration, prefer. If journalists use the word "torture," then they can be accused of siding with those who are particularly and visibly still angry at the previous administration.

There has been no clear consensus on what constitutes torture, noted Brian Duffy, NPR's former managing editor in late April.

"President Bush said, 'We do not torture -- period.' Yet water-boarding and several other tactics not approved in the Army Field Manual were approved by the Justice Department's Office of Legal Counsel (OLC) during his administration," said Duffy.

"During his confirmation hearings, Attorney General-designate Eric Holder said clearly that water-boarding was torture, and President Obama has said the same thing," he continued. "But the Obama Administration has issued no overarching statement on the issue, instead rescinding approval for CIA interrogators to use water-boarding and the other tactics the Bush administration approved but not making clear which tactics it does approve."

NPR decided to not use the term "torture" to describe techniques such as water-boarding but instead uses "harsh interrogation tactics," Duffy told me.

I recognize that it's frustrating for some listeners to have NPR not use the word torture to describe certain practices that seem barbaric. But the role of a news organization is not to choose sides in this or any debate. People have different definitions of torture and different feelings about what constitutes torture. NPR's job is to give listeners all perspectives, and present the news as detailed as possible and put it in context.

"I understand the desire to 'call a spade a spade,' but it is not for journalists to start labeling specific practices torture," said Duffy. "That's what the debate is about -- what constitutes torture?"

To me, it makes more sense to describe the techniques and skip the characterization. For example, reporters could say that the U.S. military poured water down a detainee's mouth and nostrils for 40 seconds. Or they could detail such self-explanatory techniques as forcing detainees into cramped confines crawling with insects, or forced to stand for hours along side a wall.

A basic rule of vivid writing is: "Show, Don't Tell." An excellent example of using facts rather than coded language was a 2005 piece by former NPR reporter John McChesney. It gave meticulous details of tactics used against an Iraqi detainee at Abu Graib who later died.

More recently, David Sweeney took over as managing editor and shared how NPR journalists should handle the treatment of prisoners in U.S. custody:

NPR concluded that the four memos from the Department of Justice released in April should be called 'torture memos' because torture is the explicit subject.

"So the memos are about torture even if they conclude the techniques are not torture, per se," according to a memo to staff. "However, we should not allow that usage to become generalized to the issue overall. The issue is not torture but interrogation techniques, perhaps harsh or extreme ones. Some consider them torture. Many call them torture. But we should say on this side of simply labeling them such."

NPR uses a variety of descriptions, said Sweeney. For example:

• We may refer to the actions as 'harsh' or 'extreme' techniques;


• In context we may refer to what some call 'enhanced interrogation techniques.' This was the language used by the Bush administration and is used by people such as former CIA director Mike Hayden;


• We may refer to specific techniques -- such as waterboarding -- and note that the President and/or the Attorney General have said that waterboarding is torture;


• We may refer to specific techniques -- such as waterboarding -- without using a label like torture or harsh at all;


• We should remember that many of the controversial techniques were not waterboarding. So that we've tried to avoid blanket descriptions that lump all techniques together;


• And, we have on occasion used the word 'torture' unambiguously when this made sense in the context of the piece.

"We understand that no matter what language we use, we risk taking one side or another in this debate," said Sweeney. "To label techniques as 'enhanced' risks minimizing what was done. To call them torture suggests we've taken sides in the debate. We hope that range of descriptions outlined above strikes as good a balance as possible. In many pieces, we describe the techniques in more than one way, hopefully as specifically as possible and in context."

All recent NPR stories related to this topic can be found at this site.

The Ombudsman invites you to weigh in on this topic.

Update: Comments have been closed for this entry. The Ombudsman invites you to read her follow-up response here.

Public radio is at heart, a public service. But it's a complicated public service that doesn't operate like other media.

Just yesterday, a man raved about how he listened to NPR all day long.

I corrected him. Nicely. "Actually, what you listen to all day long in Washington, DC, is WAMU, which hosts NPR programming as well as BBC, American Public Media, Public Radio International and independently produced shows."

No matter how often it's explained that NPR does not own any public radio stations, people often assume their local station is NPR-run because it broadcasts public radio staples: Morning Edition and All Things Considered.

So where am I going? Because of this understandable misunderstanding, some listeners are firing off emails and phone calls (and even a letter) condemning NPR for running Monsanto underwriting spots. Several blog posts are equally critical.

They are incorrect.

NPR is not taking any money from Monsanto, a large agribusiness concern that specializes in genetically engineered seeds designed to grow crops bigger and faster.

If, for example, a Washington, DC, listener tuned in to WAMU on a recent morning, he or she might have heard two underwriting spots for Monsanto around 8 a.m.

American Public Media, which produces Marketplace, is running corporate underwriting spots from Monsanto:

"Marketplace is supported by Monsanto, committed to sustainable agriculture: creating hybrid and biotech seeds designed to increase crop yields and conserve natural resources. Produce more conserve more dot com."

WAMU too has accepted sponsorship money from Monsanto for this spot:

"Support for WAMU 88.5 comes from Monsanto, committed to sustainable agriculture and creating hybrid and biotech seeds designed to increase crop yields and conserve natural resources. More at Produce More, Conserve More dot come."

Neither of these spots is affiliated with NPR. Nor has Monsanto approached NPR to buy corporate sponsorship spots, according to John King, operations manager for sponsorship

On June 1, however, Morning Edition ran a story about organic farming in India, which did mention Monsanto and provided a sound bite touting Monsanto from a company video. But the piece also includes correspondent Daniel Zwerdling saying that activists do not all support Monsanto's claims:

Announcer: Global agriculture faces one of the most important challenges of the 21st century.

ZWERDLING: That's a video from Monsanto, the huge agribusiness firm.

SOUNDBITE OF VIDEO

Announcer: By 2050, there will be nine billion people on Earth.

ZWERDLING: Monsanto says genetic engineering will help save the day. As you might know, Monsanto scientists are taking genes from animals and bacteria and they're inserting them in plants, so the plants grow faster and fight insects naturally.

Monsanto's spokesman in India is Christopher Samuel. He says over the next 20 years, they're going to invent crops that produce twice as much food.

Mr. CHRISTOPHER SAMUEL (Monsanto Spokesman in India): That's the first part, produce more, while reducing the amount of land, water, and energy and that's fertilizer there by 30 percent by 2030 - so protecting the environment and its natural resources.

ZWERDLING: But activists say we've heard Monsanto's kind of promises before about the green revolution, and it turned out that the system caused serious side effects. They say why should anyone assume that biotechnology won't cause long-term problems, too? So activists have been preaching that organic farming...

Please send your concerns about the Monsanto spots to the following links for WAMU and Marketplace.

It happens every time there's a major shooting: the killer gets more attention than the victims.

The story of Wednesday's fatal killing at the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC was no different on NPR. The 88-year-old man charged with the murder of museum security guard Stephen Tyrone Johns got the lion's share of air and web time at NPR.

A quick search of NPR's Website shows that the alleged gunman was mentioned 13 times and Johns 7 times within first two days.

Shortly after the shooting, Allison Keyes mentioned Johns by name in her story for the second feed of All Things Considered that airs from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. It had not been clear when her original story aired during ATC's first feed that Johns had died.

NPR's news blog, The Two Way, confirmed at 4:40 p.m. that the security guard had died. NPR did name Johns in subsequent newscasts throughout the night once his death was confirmed, said NPR managing editor David Sweeney.

But during on-air coverage the following day, June 11, there was no mention of Johns, a security guard who'd worked for the Holocaust Museum for six years. (See Washington Post profile.)

Dina Temple-Raston spoke with Morning Edition host Steve Inskeep for about 4 minutes about the alleged gunman's background and ties to white supremacy.

"I found it fiercely annoying listening to the reporting of the Holocaust Museum shooting this morning," wrote Joseph Gamble of Tampa, FL on Thursday. "Sure we learned plenty about the lunatic but where was the mention of the security guard who died heroically? His name deserved mention and a bit of coverage as he died in the line of service and undoubtedly saved lives with his sacrifice."

Tell Me More host Michel Martin did note Johns' murder in a blog post Thursday.

But why nothing on Morning Edition? "The focus of Dina's two-way on Morning Edition was the possible motive behind the shooting and the background of the alleged shooter," said Sweeney.

Sweeney noted that Wednesday's reporting included comments from the museum director about the vital role guards played in countering the attacker and in guiding museum visitors to safety.

"In hindsight, it probably would have been better to include the guard's name in the Morning Edition conversation about the attack," said Sweeney."When an attack such as this takes place, more attention is almost always given to the attacker than to victims. Sometimes the difference may appear disproportionate. I think the reason goes to a basic desire on the part of society, and by extension journalism and those who read and listen to the news, to try to understand why these incidents happen in our society.

"Sadly, in trying to understand the motivation behind these attacks there is usually much more to be learned by investigating and telling the story of the attacker than the victim."

Sweeney said NPR had no plans to do any follow-up stories on the guard.

I understand that any news organization is obligated to help its audience understand why such a shootings occur, but it still troubles me that the public always end up knowing more about the killer than those who tragically and randomly end up in their paths.

Update: Scott Simon, host of Weekend Edition Saturday, posted to his blog on Saturday about anti-semitism in America. Listen and read it here.

Some listeners last week were concerned that NPR had done 8 stories or segments on air about the murder of Dr. George Tiller, a well-known Kansas doctor who performed abortions, and none on the murder of Army Pvt. William Long, 23.

Update:The Project for Excellence in Journalism determined that last week, the story of Tiller's death was most popular on blogs and in social media.

Long was killed on June 1 -- the day after Tiller's death -- outside an Army recruiting center in Arkansas, allegedly by a Muslim convert. Another soldier was wounded.

"I am trying to find a news story on your site regarding the murder of private Long," wrote Marko Horb of Holbrook, NY last Friday. "But you do not seem to be reporting on the story. May I ask why?"

Horb is correct that none of NPR's news shows, such as Morning Edition or All Things Considered, had done a story on Long's death as of last Friday. But NPR did carry news spots about Long during newscasts that run throughout the day. Kelly McNeil of member station KUAR filed a spot on the shooting on June 1 and a follow-up spot the next day.

NPR also posted two Associated Press stories about Long's death on npr.org. and a note on NPR's news blog, The Two-Way, which didn't mention the name of the man who allegedly shot Long.

User Sean Carroll commented on the blog: "I find it odd how you missed reporting this: "Little Rock Police Chief Stuart Thomas identified the suspect as Abdulhakim Mujahid Muhammad, a 21-year-old African-American man who had changed his name from Carlos Leon Bledsoe after converting to Islam. I can't believe that people as 'Ethical' as NPR would ever knowingly 'Forget' to include facts in a story."

Frank James, who wrote the post, said not including his name was an oversight. He also noted that he did a post last Thursday on the alleged shooter, who was charged with the crime but has pleaded not guilty.

NPR Managing Editor David Sweeney defended last week's coverage decisions.

"The fact we gave more coverage to the killing of Tiller doesn't diminish the value of Long's life," said Sweeney. "But Tiller was a national figure given his practice and the attention he drew from abortion opponents. His killing has wider implications for the emotive debate on abortion on this country and we have covered those angles in reporting his death."

In one example, Morning Edition on June 5 carried a story exploring whether a 1994 law is sufficient to protect abortion providers.

In Private Long's case, NPR National Editor Steve Drummond added: "This story has grown into more of a national story as the news has come out this week and it became clear that federal authorities have been investigating this guy and that he may have had much broader plans for violence. We are pursuing some reporting out of the FBI that may result in a piece on Monday [June 8] with help from the member stations covering Long's funeral."

Drummond wrote that on June 5. All Things Considered on June 9 did two stories. One featured Long's funeral and another focused on the FBI's encounter with Abdulhakim Mujahid Muhammad in Yemen. Muhammad is accused of killing Long.

On Tuesday, however, Morning Edition and All Things Considered each carried one story centering on Tiller's death. And Talk of the Nation explored the topic of doctors deciding whether to perform abortions.

Continue reading "Whose Life is More Newsworthy?" >

Abortion.

The moment this word is uttered, people seem to need to take sides. The language for these sides has become confusing and alienating.

If people are pro-choice, does that make those who don't support abortion, anti-choice?

If people are pro-life, does that make those who support abortion rights, anti-life?

Even used as an adjective, the word abortion can set people off. Several listeners didn't like it when a Morning Edition June 5 story referred to Dr. George Tiller as an "abortion doctor." Tiller was murdered on May 31 while at church in Wichita, Kansas.

"He was an OB/GYN with a medical degree from the University of Kansas who provided late-term abortions," wrote Abigail Plumb-Larrick. " 'Abortion doctor' is as polarizing a pejorative as 'fundies' (to refer to conservative Christians) or 'illegals' (to refer to undocumented aliens.) NPR can do better." Parentheses are Plumb-Larrick's.

NPR decided to refer to Dr. Tiller as an abortion doctor because he only performed abortions, according to Julie Rovner, an NPR health policy reporter who has been covering the story.

The topic of abortion is so emotional that I agree with another listener who suggested it would be more neutral to call Tiller a doctor who performed abortions.

But did he perform "late-term abortions"? NPR's Science Desk editor Joe Neel recently instructed the staff and member stations to avoid using that descriptor because it's not accurate.

"'Late-term abortion' is a phrase that's been used quite a bit in the wake of the George Tiller shooting," said Neel. "But we should be careful about using this term -- if we use it at all -- because it is not only subject to misinterpretation, it's technically meaningless. The doctors who do these procedures refer to what they do as 'late abortions,' not late-term abortions. We should refer to them as 'late abortions,' too."

Why? Neel said:

"Most doctors who perform 'late abortions' mostly do abortions in the second trimester before a fetus could be viable. In the few cases where abortions are done in the third trimester - or after viability - the procedure is done almost always because of a fetal anomaly, or to preserve the health or life of the woman.

"Many states have laws that ban abortion after a certain point in pregnancy, though states must leave exceptions in these bans for abortions to protect the woman's life or health. The scope of these exceptions for health is a matter of considerable public and legal debate."

I'm a big fan of blogs and of reading listener opinions. I plan on updating my own blog more frequently over the next few months.

But what I will never do, or never value is the sentiment that comes through this New York Times piece in Sunday's business section.

Everything in this piece reinforces why the public has a low opinion of journalists. Both TechCrunch and Gawker, two popular blogs, posted a rumor about Apple buying Twitter. The suspected rumor, wrote Damon Darlin in the NYT, was groundless when they wrote the items.

But they both reported it anyway.

The payoff? TechCrunch's post got 405 comments, an unusually large response, wrote Darlin. Gawker's post was viewed 22,000 times.

If it's all about getting eyeballs to your site, then rumors might be the way to go.

But what was most troubling to me was a comment by Michael Arrington, TechCrunch's founder and author of the post. TechCrunch has a small staff, so Arrington's philosophy is: "Getting it right is expensive. Getting it first is cheap."

Here's how I see it: Getting it first doesn't mean anything. Getting it right is what counts. All news organizations have is their credibility. Squander it at your own peril.

Arrington and other bloggers, writes Darlin, don't see anything wrong with rumor-mongering. They see it as involving their audience in the reporting process. Arrington's attitude is that his item about Twitter and Apple (not true) "didn't hurt anyone to write about it."

Yes, it did. It hurts all the reporters out there trying hard to gather facts, get sources on the record and publish accurate information. And it just reinforces the idea that journalists don't care about accuracy. The good ones do.

How do you, as members of NPR's community, feel about rumors being posted?

Update: One day after The New York Times published their story, Michael Arrington posted a follow-up on TechCrunch, stating Damon Darlin got a lot wrong.

Update: Shortly after Arrington posted his response to the Times, writer and new media guru Jeff Jarvis weighed in on the situation with a post to his own blog.

TARP watchdog Elizabeth Warren walked out of NPR's New York studio after an interview for a Planet Money podcast, and gave her assistant a puzzled look.

"She turned to me and asked: 'Is that what we were expecting to happen?" said Caleb Weaver, senior advisor on the congressional panel monitoring the Troubled Asset Relief Program. Warren, who couldn't be reached, chairs the panel created to monitor spending of the $700 billion bank bailout.

No one was expecting a fight. But that's what happened. And it should not have.

Planet Money correspondent Adam Davidson interviewed Warren on May 6. He later acknowledged that he was not well-prepared and was "very, very tired" from traveling on an NPR fundraising trip. But he knows that's no excuse for being rude to a guest.

"What Mr. Davidson chose to highlight, I think, reflects what I think he was looking for out of the interview, which as he stated, was to get her mad," said Weaver.

What was the fight about?

"I was saying TARP has one problem to solve: the emergency financial market crisis," Davidson explained when the May 8 interview aired. "Its job is not to look at 30 years of inequity to the American family. Much of the oversight deals with things [Warren] cares about rather than the short-term banking crisis we are facing right now which she was hired to oversee."

It becomes clear after listening to the hour-plus interview that Davidson and Warren, a Harvard law professor, agree on many things.

Yet when he and Planet Money's Alex Blumberg edited down the 74-minute interview into a 13-minute podcast segment, they kept only the pyrotechnics: Davidson and Warren raising their voices, Davidson badgering and interrupting Warren.

"Frankly, I didn't think I was coming across well, but it was the most dynamic tape," Davidson said later. "I liked the idea of revealing myself in a less than flattering light. Planet Money tries to be transparent and I liked the transparency of that. I could have easily cut the interview to make myself look better."

Davidson apologized to podcast listeners on May 11.

"The fight was over an incredibly nuanced issue," he told me. "I did an awful job of conveying what the issue was by losing my cool and failing to be precise. I opened myself up to people thinking I don't care about the middle class. Of course I do. The argument wasn't about that. But it sounded like it was because I used sloppy language."

Davidson's speaking over and interrupting Warren became a distraction. It's too bad because Planet Money listeners lost out on hearing from Warren, who besides being a well-known Harvard advocate for the middle class, is an important player in the current economic crisis by virtue of her new position.

"It was an unsuccessful interview from the start," said Ellen Weiss, senior v.p. for news. "What any good interview can and should do is give the person an opportunity to explain where they are coming from. Adam didn't do that."

Weiss added that speaking loudly doesn't make an interviewer more convincing. "You want your questions to be challenging but raising your voice with someone isn't respectful," she said. "What Adam showed was he wasn't open to listening to her."

Not surprisingly, my e-mail and voice mail boxes filled up with complaints. The Planet Money blog got 788 total comments, more than ever before, according to its web editor, Laura Conaway. The blogosphere lit up with criticism, especially Columbia Journalism Review.

Conaway noted that many comments, while expressing fury at Davidson, were also civil and instructive for Planet Money.

"We managed to show people something in such a way that they felt poked in the eye," said Conaway. "One of the things I learned from this is how incredibly helpful it can be to have a community of people who will respond to you so quickly and directly, and how helpful it can be to everyone involved in the show to listen to the feedback and incorporate it."

It's important for journalists to treat whomever they are interviewing with respect -- and to keep their opinions to themselves. Davidson did neither.

Instead, Davidson conveyed that he didn't think Warren was doing her job properly. He admits that his anger was misdirected. He said he was angry at congressional leaders, notably Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (NV) and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (CA), for not selecting people for the TARP commission with stronger backgrounds in financial matters.

"I think it's clearly a journalist's role to question and probe the issue," said Davidson. "It's not a journalist's role to have a firm position about who should be on the panel. I wish I hadn't expressed that so strongly."

Planet Money was launched last August. It's become NPR's most-listened to podcast and one of the network's top blogs. Davidson and the Planet Money team of seven do three podcasts a week, a daily blog and contribute to NPR radio shows. Davidson and Blumberg also do long-form documentaries in partnership with Chicago Public Radio's This American Life, where Blumberg is also a producer.

Planet Money is a relatively new venture for NPR, and the network is still experimenting with the format. "Planet Money has been an extraordinarily successful, popular project, with all it does," said Uri Berliner, deputy national editor who edits Planet Money. "If you look at the way it has built an audience that responds and is engaged, it is pretty much without precedent at NPR."

That said, Berliner recognizes the Warren interview did not meet NPR standards. "Adam entered the interview with a lot of ideas about Elizabeth Warren's role that were never really explained," said Berliner. "It was confrontational without being illuminating."

Planet Money's podcast does not have the same degree of radio production or intense editing and supervision as NPR's regular shows.

"A small core group creates some really excellent content under very tight deadline pressures," said Berliner. "There just hasn't been enough time in the day to make sure that every podcast interview is vetted by a DC editor who has significant other responsibilities." He added that supervisory responsibilities have not been spelled out for the blog and podcast.

At the very least, because the Warren interview was guaranteed to be explosive, it would have made sense if someone up the chain of command had at least read the script.

Davidson is a talented, energetic reporter who, as he says, comes from a culture of argument as sport. He and the Planet Money team have done some of the country's best, freshest journalism on the economy.

Many listeners said they were deeply disappointed in Davidson. Some threatened to never donate again to NPR. Others have demanded that Davidson be sanctioned or fired. It's not necessary. He is contrite. He knows how unprofessionally he behaved. And NPR supervisors probably will be watching his work more carefully in the future.

Planet Money is far too valuable a resource for explaining today's strange and hard-to-fathom financial information to let one botched interview derail it. But judging by the volume of criticism, it will take some time for Davidson to earn back the trust and respect initially (and deservedly) showered on him.