By many measures, the Cash for Clunkers is a wildly successful government program. It is a stimulus plan at work. People are buying cars and trying to reduce carbon emissions.

Yes, the program has had a few hiccups but only because it is more successful than anyone envisioned. The $1 billion approved by Congress was supposed to last until Nov. 1 but was gone after a few days due to high demand. Now Congress intends to add another $2 billion.

It's hardly a disaster of Hurricane Katrina proportions in terms of government incompetence.

But that is what NPR national political correspondent Mara Liasson said on a live Fox News "Special Report" Tuesday. She was reacting to a video clip of a woman in Philadelphia telling Sen. Arlen Specter (D-Pa.) that if the government can't run the clunker program, how could it possibly handle the health care industry?

To watch, click here.

"I thought that woman actually asked a pretty legitimate question. Cash for Clunkers is like a mini-Katrina here," Liasson said. "It's not good to start a government program and not be able to execute it."

Say what?

Nearly 2,000 people died and thousands more were injured or lost their homes during Hurricane Katrina in 2005. The Bush administration's inability to help hundreds of thousands of people in New Orleans after Katrina is considered one of the greatest recent examples of government incompetence.

It is inconceivable anyone could compare that disaster to Cash for Clunkers, which simply gives people a voucher worth up to $4,500 to trade in an old car for a newer, more fuel-efficient vehicle.

Emails have been pouring into my office.

"Cash for Clunkers" is an innovative, socially and economically beneficial program that has been slowed only by its unforeseeable degree of success," wrote Tom Gleason of Lawrence, KS. "Hurricane Katrina was an epic tragedy aggravated by government inaction. If Ms. Liasson (on Fox News) finds any basis at all to analogize between the two she needs to go to work for Fox News full time."

Liasson knew pretty quickly that she had crossed a line.

"I said something really stupid, which I regret," Liasson told me. "I should have merely said anytime time the government does something less than competent, it makes it harder to get people to trust them with other programs. People died in Katrina because of government incompetence. I should not have used that as an analogy. I was thinking of an example of government incompetence and I picked one that was too big and egregious. I was over the top in my choice of a metaphor. It was a mistake."

NPR's senior vice president for news, Ellen Weiss, said, "If this had been said live on NPR's air, we would have redone the interview, and we would have acknowledged and apologized for what was said in earlier feeds both on the air and online."

Liasson has been a political contributor for Fox News Channel since 1998 and also appears as a FOX News Sunday panelist. She is also on NPR's staff and, like all NPR journalists, has to follow NPR's ethics code -- which doesn't allow NPR staffers to say something on another news outlet that they couldn't say on NPR.

"The point is I shouldn't have said it anywhere," said Liasson. "I always try to keep the ethics code in mind. It helps me set guidelines and parameters."

Weiss concurred.

"In live situations, both in other media and in front of audiences, NPR staff occasionally say things they shouldn't," she said. "That happens infrequently and we take it very seriously and address it with the individual. But a single episode of mis-speaking can be forgiven, a systemic problem cannot. Mara has acknowledged that what she said was wrong."

Appearing on two networks can be a tricky negotiation --especially as Liasson is often live on Fox. Whether Liasson likes it or not, making a gaffe on Fox reflects poorly on NPR -- as many listeners have let me know. Liasson should think about NPR's ethics code every time she appears on Fox.

Continue reading "The Katrina Analogy: A Real Clunker" >

On July 29 All Things Considered ran a fascinating interview with Jeremy Renner, star of a new movie, The Hurt Locker, about American soldiers who defuse bombs in Iraq.

To set the stage, host Madeline Brand, used a 30-second clip from the movie.

Mr. JEREMY RENNER (Actor): (As Staff Sergeant William James) Right here is a perfect vantage point outside the blast radius to sit back and watch us clean up their mess.

Unidentified Man #1: You want to go out there?

Mr. RENNER: (As James) Yes, I do.

Unidentified Man #1: I could stand to get in a little trouble.

Mr. ANTHONY MACKIE (Actor): (As Sergeant JT Sanborn) No, man, this is (BEEP). You got three infantry platoons behind you whose job it is to go Haji-hunting. That ain't our (BEEP) job.

Mr. RENNER: (As James) You don't say no to me, Sanborn. I say no to you, okay? You know there are guys watching us right now. They're laughing at this, okay, and I'm not okay with that. Now, turn off your goddamn torch because we're going."

David Carr of Zionsville, IN wondered why NPR bleeped out two words but not "goddamn," which he found offensive.

"Whatever it bleeped out could not possibly be as bad as what it left unbleeped," wrote Carr. "The uncensored language is a violation of the 10 Commandments and HIGHLY offensive to many Christians. I am astonished at the insensitivity of NPR. If I want to listen to Howard Stern, I know how to turn the dial."

It was easy for NPR editors to bleep out the other two well-known swear words that never make it on the air. The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) guidelines make it crystal clear. The guidelines define profanity as "language so grossly offensive to members of the public who actually hear it as to amount to a nuisance."

Using "god damn it," for example, is not "legally profane" according to the FCC.

But taking the Lord's name in vain -- although not all see it that way -- is more problematic for all mainstream media.

"God Damn is more complicated, especially because of the juxtaposition here to the other bleeped words," said Chris Turpin, ATC's executive producer. "Usually we don't bleep God Damn --there is no legal reason to do so -- although we realize there are some in the audience who find this exceedingly offensive."

What NPR did in this case was to send out a warning to its public radio member stations alerting them to potentially offensive language. "So they can make a decision about how they want to handle it based on their prevailing community standards," said Turpin.

It turns out that NPR rarely airs those words god and damn together. A search showed 52 references in transcripts of the phrase "god damn" all the way back to 1990. When there's no space between the two words (as in goddamn), there were 163 references since 1990.

But it did make me wonder how other news organizations handle these words.

When I asked CBS' standards & practices editor, I got back a succinct email: "No gd on cbs," wrote Linda Mason.

"As a general rule, we would not permit 'GD' to be used on our air," wrote NBC's David McCormick, who is the network's standards & practices editor. "We would bleep one or the other....usually the first word."

The Washington Post used the words "goddam" only twice in recent years. Post guidelines urge great caution in dealing with words or material that is profane or obscene, urging that it not be published except in cases where it's essential (such as quoting from a court case on obscenity).

The New York Times has used the words 9 times in the past year -- five were a direct quote from Obama's former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright's famous speech.

ThomsonReuters' policy makes sense to me:

Obscenities

Use them only if they are in direct quotes and if the story would be seriously weakened by their omission. Obscenities, if retained, must not be euphemized or emasculated by the use of dots. In general we should not quote mindless obscenities from the person in the street or, say, an athlete or soldier but should consider using them if people prominent in public life use them in a context that gives their remarks great emphasis or throws in question their fitness to hold office.

In the case of The Hurt Locker, it was gratuitous to keep in the swear words. It all could have been avoided by using a different clip from the movie. Out of a two-hour movie, there had to be something else so that NPR didn't have to bleep it or offend.

Turpin said that studios usually offer a limited range of video, "most of which only work when you see the video. This was the option that worked on the radio and gave a sense of the movie."

That said, why needlessly offend listeners? Bleeping out "goddamn" would have been so easy and lost nothing.

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton calls it Burma. But when her words are reported on NPR, the network refers to the country in Southeast Asia as Myanmar.

A listener doesn't like it.

"In clips included as part of every NPR newscast I have heard today, our Secretary of State refers to Burma as Burma," Tom Benghauser of Denver wrote on July 21. "Why can't NPR do the same? Why do you insist on using Myanmar, the name given to Burma by the military thugs who continue to terrorize a wonderful people?"

Today npr.org, carries an Associated Press story on Clinton's visit to Bangkok. During a press conference, Clinton used the name Burma, but AP the story refers to Myanmar:

Secretary of State Hillary Clinton said Tuesday that the Obama administration is concerned by the possibility that North Korea, with a history of illicit sales of missiles and nuclear technology, is developing military ties to Myanmar.

She did not refer explicitly to a nuclear connection but made clear that the matter is disconcerting.

"We know there are also growing concerns about military cooperation between North Korea and Burma which we take very seriously," she said when asked about it at a news conference in the Thai capital. Myanmar, also known as Burma, is run by a military regime.

"It would be destabilizing for the region, it would pose a direct threat to Burma's neighbors," she said, adding that as a treaty ally of Thailand, the United States takes the matter seriously."

The same name switch occured in Michele Keleman's Clinton story on All Things Considered July 21.

What accounts for the difference? NPR's foreign editor, Loren Jenkins, said NPR has decided to call the country how the current government refers to itself.

"The government of what was once known as Burma changed the name as many countries in what was once the colonial Third world have done," said Jenkins via an email. "It is their right to do so and not to accept that is to take a political position which NPR does not.

"When what was once called The Congo changed its name to Zaire decades ago under the late President/dictator Mobutu, we didn't keep calling the Congo (After Mobutu's death, the new government reverted to calling it The Democratic Republic of Congo which is what we do today). India too has chosen to change the colonial names of many of its cities (Bombay is today Mumbai) and we recognize that. So why not call what was once Burma by the name its rulers -- and the UN, by the way -- call it."

NPR has had this policy since April 2004 when the Foreign Desk decided that the term Myanmar was enough in current usage to go with it. Before that, NPR used, "Burma, also known as Myanmar."

The State Department refers to the country as Burma to register its disapproval of the current regime, which changed the name in 1989. The department has called for the release of the 2,100 political prisoners in Burma including the most famous prisoner, Aung San Suu Kyi.

The opposite is true for the U.N., which uses Myanmar.

"We use Myanmar in deference to the wishes of their government," said U.N. spokesperson, Farhan Haq. "We go by the name the accredited government gives. We are an organization made up of member states and we listen to the member states."

Interestingly, The Washington Post and The New York Times take different approaches.

"In the most recent stories featuring either name, it looks like The New York Times says Myanmar and then qualifies it with Burma," said Mary Glendinning, an NPR librarian. "The Washington Post calls it Burma but goes on later to include Myanmar."

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.

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.

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."

Joseph Monagle of Manchester, N.H. heard this story on Monday's Morning Edition about President Obama's speech at University of Notre Dame. What bothered him was when NPR's Scott Horsley referred to the people who interrupted the speech as anti-abortion hecklers.

"Although his speech was interrupted several times by anti-abortion hecklers, they were quickly shouted down," said Horsley. "Even those who disagreed with the president on abortion, like Michelle Coble, were generally respectful. The architecture student wore a model of the Supreme Court building on her mortarboard, along with a sign saying "Fight for Unborn Human Rights."

Monagle had done his research. He pointed to how NPR has identified Code Pink, a group of female anti-war activists.

"Look for Code Pink on NPR's site and you'll see that NPR refers to Code Pink as protestors, but the people who interrupted Obama are hecklers," said Monagle. "This is pretty cut and dry. You treat one group one way and one another. It's pretty biased."

Monagle's right that NPR is not always consistent on this matter. When Code Pink interrupted John McCain's acceptance speech last fall at the Republican Convention, they were called protestors -- not hecklers.

By definition, someone who interrupts a person giving a speech by yelling rudely is a heckler. Those who yelled out at Obama when he was speaking at Notre Dame were hecklers, but then by the same token, so were the Code Pink ladies at the Republican Convention.

From time to time, I think it's instructive to share audience emails and an NPR staffer's response. James Webb of Langhorne, PA, questioned why a guest on Tell Me More was asked her race.

"As a satellite radio customer I listen to Tell Me More quite a bit," wrote James Webb of Langhorne, PA. "During an interview on today's program, I heard the show's host ask a guest who was speaking about South Africa what her race was. Let us pretend that this happened on any other show and see what the reaction would be. I find the show has interesting guests but the bias the host displays is quite at odds with an otherwise good product."

Michel Martin, host of Tell Me More responds:

"I am sorry if the question offended the listener's sensibilities but the fact is it was a highly relevant question, one which was necessitated by the fact that race matters. Or more specifically ethnicity matters, which is, in fact, the question I asked. The issue here is that South Africa, like the US, has a history of voting along ethnic lines, and ethnic lines are INTRA- racial as well as INTER-racial.

"Having asked the black guest about her ethnic ( some say tribal) affiliation, I could do no less than ask the white guest, which would have been obvious if we had been in a visual medium. Which raises the further point that listeners seem not to find it strange when one asks a black African whether his or her tribal or ethnic affiliation factored into his or her vote--they seem to grasp the obvious since violence has attended a number of recent elections due to ethnic difference---and the answer may be yes or not, but they grasp why we ask.

"People only seem to find it strange when the person being asked is white, as if whiteness is so universal and expected it does not need to be highlighted. But the fact is that few white South Africans ever vote for the ANC as this guest had done in the past. Most vote for the Democratic Alliance, all the more reason it was important to ask, and for the listeners to know the ethnic identities of both guests."

Later, Webb replied:

"I have spent some time in South Africa and understood by the accent that one of your guests was white so I suppose I was surprised when that question popped out. I do not equate tribal membership and ethnicity but your response explains your position well and I am grateful for the reply."

Continue reading "When is it Appropriate to Ask Someone's Race? " >

Will you please stop refering to the novel Influenza A virus circulating throughout Mexico, the US and the world as "swine flu" instead of the correct name, "H1N1 virus."
Thank you,
Cyndie Bashore

Dear Ms. Bashore:
I asked Joe Neel who is the lead editor on NPR's flu coverage about why NPR uses both terms and this is his response:

"NPR will continue to use the terms "swine flu" and "H1N1" interchangeably in its national broadcasts. You will likely hear us use "new swine flu" or "new H1N1" on first reference.

Here's why:
--The virus is a new swine virus, so it is accurate to call it "swine flu" or "new swine flu."
--The virus is a new H1N1 virus, so it is also accurate to call it "H1N1" or "the new H1N1 virus."
--We view "swine flu" as somewhat more precise scientifically than "H1N1."

There are at least 11,000 strains of animal flu viruses called H1N1, some of them swine, some human, some bird, etc. The top virologists in the world agree that this is a swine H1N1.

--The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is calling it "swine-origin influenza virus" as well as "H1N1" in its publications.

As the government drops the use of "swine flu" and uses "H1N1" more extensively in press conferences and taped interviews, I think you'll hear "H1N1" more frequently in our coverage."

NPR has also set up a Flu Shots blog.

A listener was offended by a Fresh Air program in which host Terry Gross interviewed actor Idris Elba. There were repeated warnings that the interview would contain objectionable language.

"I listened to the interview and was shocked that most profanity was bleeped out during the interview with the exception of the word 'nigger.' Why was an exception made for such a controversial word?" wrote John Davis. "To make matters worse, during the interview Terry Gross asked Idris Elba what he felt about the use of the word, he explained that he felt it wasn't appropriate and the word -- still -- wasn't bleeped out during the program."

Davis added: "The word 'nigger' did not play an essential role in the Terry Gross interview. Please consider whether it is worthwhile to offend your listening audience for a non-essential aspect of a program. Bleeping out a word will maintain context so that semantics is not lost on the listener. Hence, most listeners will receive an authentic experience (to the extent possible) while the chance of offending listeners will be minimized."

Dear Mr. Davis:
First, it's important to point out that WHYY in Philadelphia produces Fresh Air and has complete editorial control over that show. NPR's role is to distribute Fresh Air, which must agree to follow NPR's ethical guidelines.

That said, I wondered how NPR might treat the use of the word 'nigger' on any of the NPR-produced news shows -- All Things Considered, Morning Edition, the Saturday and Sunday Weekend Editions, Talk of the Nation and Tell Me More.

I asked Ellen Weiss, the senior vice president for news, and this is her response:

"In this case, the word is part of a scene from The Wire that was played during the interview -- and Terry gave a warning -- which is often how we treat the same situation. We don't ban the word, but we recognize that it is charged language and we handle it in different ways depending on the context:

1. Sometimes we send a notice to stations ahead of time to let them know the word is airing and where.
2. The host always gives a verbal warning.
3. If we feel it is being used in a highly derogatory or offensive way, we may beep it.
Again, we handle it as appropriate."

Ombudsman:
I understand that you thought airing the word was offensive, and I respect that. But I think in this case, it was appropriate for Terry Gross to ask Idris Elba, who is black, to discuss how he felt about this particular racially charged word. It fit within the context of their conversation and I don't feel it needed to be bleeped out.
END

Continue reading "Using the 'N' Word" >

On Thursday, Morning Edition host Steve Inskeep did what's known in radio parlance as a "two-way," with NPR's Baghdad bureau chief, Lourdes Garcia-Navarro talking about the Iraqi journalist who threw shoes at President Bush.

After Garcia-Navraro described the trial scene where the shoe thrower was sentenced to three years in jail, Inskeep interjected:

"We should mention this is a guy who was praised rightly or wrongly throughout much of the Islamic world and caused more than a few chuckles in the United States. Was it expected that the sentence would be three years?"

Judy Gruen of Los Angeles was offended at Inskeep's finding any humor around the shoe-throwing incident.

"I would ask Mr. Inskeep when might it ever be "right" for someone to throw an object at the president of the United States?" asked Gruen, who admittedly is a fan of the former president. "I've no doubt that at NPR you were rolling on the floor laughing when this stunt to try to humiliate President Bush took place. But to most Americans who respect the office of the presidency and who respect President Bush for the work he did to protect this country post-9/11, this comment revealed Inskeep's arrogant assumption that this president was not worthy of any respect at all."

Gruen believes Inskeep would not have been light-hearted if the same thing had happened to President Obama.

"Inskeep's tone would have expressed shock and dismay at this egregious act," she said. "One final note: when this incident happened, President Bush quickly ducked aside and was not hit, and immediately made a joke about it, showing the kind of presence of mind and quick wit that Inskeep et al have never given him credit for."

I shared Gruen's comments with Inskeep and he believes that she misinterpreted him.

"I agree that I generally should not express an opinion about the President," said Inskeep. "Fortunately, I did not. I stated a fact: people chuckled at the shoe-throwing. Not everybody, but people laughed-- 'rightly or wrongly,' as I said. I happened to be a couple thousand miles west of NPR's headquarters when it happened, and people were laughing there. TV comedians and others siezed on it nationwide.

"Don't take my word for this. Here's a selection of TV and other jokes about the incident - and again, these are their jokes not mine.

"If I state a fact, that is different than saying my opinion. The same report also described people who were very angry that the three-year sentence was too light. Neither of those statements is indicative of my opinion. I expressed no opinion.

"As for how we would cover Mr. Obama if a shoe were thrown at him, I would do my best to bring you facts, and reaction, whatever it may be.

"There may never be an identical Iraqi shoe-throwing where you can test my claim; but I can give you one recent story where you can compare quite directly. After President Obama's recent speech to Congress, NPR did a fact-checking report exactly as we had done after President Bush's speeches. This prompted a number of letters from listeners, some of whom were quite pleased, and a few who were actually unhappy, that we had held both presidents to the same standard."

Why do your programs consistently refer to Obama as "black," when he is the son of a black man and a white woman? He could just as easily be referred to as white. Why refer to his skin color at all? If you are referring to more than skin color, what is it? Is this a formal policy?

The All Things Considered series on race never defined what the editors meant by the term. I sent emails asking for some, but never got a reply. As a result, I think the most important question was left unanswered. The science of genetics offers no basis for the notion of race, so why persist with this term without giving a definition? Please give me a real answer.
--Forrest Furman

Dear Mr. Furman:
NPR identifies Sen. Barack Obama as black because that is how the president-elect identifies himself. There probably isn't a man or woman in America who does not know that Obama had a white mother and a black father. NPR respects how anyone wants to identify themselves in a case like this. As an example on a more simple identification, Gov. Sarah Palin prefers to be called Ms. Palin in second reference of the New York Times which uses honorifics-- not Mrs. Palin. That is her choice.

I listened closely to the series on the role of race in the presidential campaign and All Things Considered defined race in this case as looking at how black and whites get along, interact and view one another. One way to think about racism is that it's the result of not knowing people different from you. You can see an evolution in how people's thinking evolved about race in NPR's York (Pa.) project that explored race during the presidential election.

As for why NPR refers to Obama's skin color, it is unavoidable in the society we live in.

###
WHY did you put on the piece with David Duke? A better use of our time would have been for him to answer one question and then for you to tell us we could listen to the rest of the interview on your website. Yes, the piece was, as you warned us, offensive. WHAT do we learn from listening to him interrupting and disrespecting you, disrespecting us listeners, spouting his vitriol? Sheila O'Flaherty

David Duke is a former Louisiana state lawmaker, grand wizard of the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan and onetime presidential aspirant. I think it's critical for an informed electorate to hear all kinds of voices-- even voices that you don't agree with, and many don't agree with David Duke. I found the interview fascinating and noticed how tough Michel Martin was on him. Whether we like it or not, there are individuals and groups that will not like Sen. Obama as president. We need to hear from them rather than ignore them.

When I posed listener concerns to Michel, she replied: "I wrote about it on my blog and in the comment thread. If you have additional questions after that I am happy to answer them. But it seems obvious enough. Two separate groups of white supremacists have been arrested for trying to kill Obama and we consider one of our mandates to talk TO people rather than about them. Duke is the most famous (white) racist in the country, so it seemed appropriate to call him the week after the second assassination plot was made public. We had a conversation about the psychology of racism earlier in the week as well."

Here are some comments from listeners:

I do think we should listen to people who disagree with us ... Thanks for bringing us both sides of issues we may be uncomfortable with...

--LaShanta Harris (LRH)

I vehemently disagree with your decision to give this type of person any outlet to share his racist and hateful views.

--Chris Valentine (cval)

What do you think? --ACS

A recent piece on Morning Edition told the story of a smart, powerful woman who rose to the top ranks of Lehman Brothers, only to be demoted six months later when the investment firm posted a $2.8 billion quarterly loss.

After a newsy introduction read by host Steve Inskeep, the June 13 piece began this way:

"Blonde, beautiful and outspoken, the spotlight loved Erin Callan. Fortune magazine called her one of four women to watch," said NPR business reporter Yuki Noguchi. "Callan cut a striking figure in her crochet-style dress, gold dangling earrings and high-heeled boots."

Continue reading "SEXIST LANGUAGE" >

Nine times out of 10, it is the adjectives that get journalists in trouble.

Most recently, an adjective got veteran NPR newscaster Jean Cochran into difficulty when she said on Valentine's Day that President Bush was heading to Africa to visit the "dark continent."

Almost immediately, a flurry of angry emails and phone calls came into NPR.

Continue reading "SHOULD NPR HAVE APOLOGIZED FOR "DARK CONTINENT?"" >