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Media Matters
May 9, 2003
Crediting the Source: Where Do NPR Ideas Come From?
By Jeffrey A. Dvorkin
Ombudsman
National Public Radio
According to the Readers' Representative (aka, the Ombudsman) at The Los Angeles Times, one story on All Things Considered came directly from the Times, and without attribution.
On April 2nd, L.A. Times reporter Cara Mia DiMassa had a story in the paper about how towns around America are creating memorials to 9/11 using pieces from the World Trade Center.
On April 4th, ATC's Michele Norris interviewed (or did a "two-way" as it is called at NPR) a number of people about their ideas for memorials using pieces of the World Trade Center. She spoke with Ben Narodick in Long Beach, Calif., and Fr. Andrew Harrison in Palos Hills, Ill. These were the same people who had been interviewed by DiMassa for her report in the L.A. Times. (Norris also spoke with Richard Breaux in Lafayette, La. Breaux was not part of the L.A. Times article.)
Jamie Gold is the Readers' Representative for The Times. She writes that
...two people -- a reader, then the reporter herself -- asked me about when and how media outlets credit each other.
Times ...reporters and editors recently, though, have made more of an effort to do so, which might have been what led to this question from the reporter here. Are NPR stories inspired by newspaper articles sometimes? An April 4 All Things Considered seemed to cover the same ground (and interview the same people) as an April 2 L.A. Times story. (It featured three people -- two of whom were in the Times piece, and which included an interview with a representative from the other city covered, Lafayette, La.).
Bruce Drake is the Vice President of NPR News. He agrees with Jamie Gold that news organizations don't always do the right thing:
The L.A. Times story was, in fact, the inspiration for Michele Norris' two-ways about these memorials. As your colleague notes, two of the three individuals two-wayed were in the L.A. Times piece. We always give other news organizations credit when they break hard news stories. But news organizations, and it probably includes us as well as the Times (as Jamie Gold notes) are less assiduous about it when it comes to feature material. The line becomes less bright.
News organizations get names and leads from each other all the time, whether it is reading that day's papers or listening to that day's broadcasts, or doing research on Lexis-Nexis. Our material, and individuals we feature in it, is also often picked up by others (and not credited). In retrospect, I would have leaned towards crediting the Times for this since I could not find anyone else who did this story.
Christopher Turpin is the Executive Producer of All Things Considered. He agrees that the program should have credited the Times:
This is a case where we should have given credit to the LAT. Clearly, we piggy-backed on DiMassa's enterprise reporting, and didn't advance her story at all. This shouldn't have happened. We try to be careful about giving credit where credit is due.
Borrowing?
This is known in some circles as "drinking each other's bathwater" where journalists take ideas from one another without proper acknowledgment.
In fairness to NPR, this doesn't happen often. But there is a tendency by editors and producers to scan the papers to see if there might be something that can be worked into a program. And not just at NPR. Newspaper editors have a quick listen to NPR or watch the morning TV shows on their way into their editorial meeting. At its worst it is pack journalism that easily slips into plagiarism. It also points out the systemic problem of similar people thinking in similar ways about stories.
A few years ago, I was introduced to Bill Keller, then the Managing Editor of The New York Times. "NPR, huh?" he said as we shook hands. "It's because of you that I yell at my editors in the morning meeting." Keller explained that he would berate his editors for not having enough original ideas. "They have to hear it on NPR before they'll put it in the paper."
It was flattering of course, and probably just exaggerated enough to be a reasonable way to share a joke.
But in fact, like all bits of humor, it hides a real anxiety about whether a news organization is able to function without using other news media as sources for ideas.
Can Journalism Ever Be Completely Original?
News now operates for all media on a 24-hour cycle. The stories that are first heard on Morning Edition or those stories that are in the daily newspapers, become the basis for what happens for the rest of the day. Reporters chase those stories trying to "match" or "advance" the story throughout the news cycle.
The reality is -- in every newsroom I've worked in -- that story development often happens in a very spontaneous -- and occasionally haphazard -- way. There are the breaking news stories (a war, a resignation, a death) and there are the brainstorming sessions where editors kick ideas around, eventually to settle on the ones that are the most interesting or promise to make the best radio stories. More systematic and rigorous are the multi-part series (the history of the Middle East conflict for example) that require enormous planning and editorial nurturing.
But no news organization can or should operate in a vacuum. Journalists need to know what other media are reporting so that stories can be matched or advanced. Story ideas will be found everywhere -- on the front pages of the local papers, The New York Times, The Washington Post or The Los Angeles Times. Editors will look over the wire services and the Internet to see if there is an appropriate story that can be aired on NPR.
Journalists should be reading the papers, watching the TV newscasts and checking out the Internet. It's called keeping informed of what else is being reported. Stories found in one medium are natural springboards for the next story and that's an acceptable form of original journalism, since no idea exists alone.
But attribution of stories from other sources is always the right thing to do -- whether it is in hard news or features. The L.A. Times story was "placed" inside an NPR program without any acknowledgement. All Things Considered was remiss -- even unethical in my opinion -- in not stating that the story first appeared in The Los Angeles Times.
Is the Term "Mister" Bush Disrespectful?
On another matter, many listeners seem concerned that NPR is being disrespectful to President Bush by referring to him as "Mister" Bush.
Mindy Ashcroft writes:
I'm curious about the proper title to be used for the President of the United States.
I was listening to an NPR story this morning about President Bush's speech from last evening. The story was given by a correspondent in San Diego named Russell Lewis. Almost every time Mr. Lewis referred to President Bush, he called him Mr. Bush. I couldn't find my AP stylebook this morning, but I'm fairly certain that the proper title for the President of the United States is not Mr.
In fact, the president is the only person who is granted the honorific by NPR. NPR has had a rule going back through several administrations to refer to the president as President X on first reference. Subsequent references can be Mister X or the president. This has been a consistent NPR approach at least since the Carter administration, as far as anyone can remember around here.
No other person mentioned on NPR News is granted the honorific. In my opinion this is appropriate since in ordinary speech most people do not use the honorific when referring to people in the third person.
For the record, the Associated Press stylebook does not insist on the use of "President" X each time the office holder is mentioned.
Hobson or Hobbesian?
Finally, reporter Colin Fogarty referred to the Oregon state law on assisted suicides as a "Hobson's Choice."
Many listeners who remember their philosophy courses wrote to point out the error:
... I believe the term used was a Hobson's Choice for a doctor who had to choose between a legal but unacceptable procedure and an illegal but acceptable one. My understanding of a Hobson's Choice is that Hobson was a stable master, and one could rent any horse in his stable, as long as it was the one closest to the door. In other words, a choice where there was no choice. I don't know that to call what Colin Fogarty was talking about, but I don't think it's a Hobson's Choice.
-Richard P. Karman
Mr. Karman (who is the principal at a prep school in New Jersey) is correct. The reporter was possibly thinking of a "Hobbesian Choice" named after Thomas Hobbes, the English social philosopher, in which both options are bad.
Listeners may contact me at 202-513-3246 or at ombudsman@npr.org.
Jeffrey Dvorkin
NPR Ombudsman
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