Ryan Hood

Earlier this semester, we discussed the big, bad b-word: balanced.

 

We talked about how balance is not what we should be striving for in our reporting and in our writing. No, that’s not what we go for because what if adding balance to a story detracts from it (i.e. finding a person who’s anti-gay to speak out against Michael Sam – the former Missouri football player who came out as gay after the season – just because there already is a quote from a Sam supporter). Rather, we want fairness. And we want the truth.

 

We need to find the truth and then share it with the world, balanced or not. And the only way for the truth to be presented to the world in its entirety by a journalist is if that journalist has an independent mind, one that’s not clouded with preconceptions and overpowering opinions. That doesn’t necessarily mean being neutral from an interview subject/topic; it’s acceptable and I’d even say natural to have an opinion. It means keeping those preconceived notions or opinions that form locked in a far away chamber, so that the reporting and writing remains independent from your personal beliefs.

 

Here’s an excerpt from “The Elements of Journalism” by Bill Kovach and Tom Rosenstiel:

 

“…Being impartial or neutral is not a core principle of journalism. ...Impartiality was never what was meant by objectivity. …The critical step in pursing truthfulness and informing citizens is not neutrality but independence....”

 

The allegiance to the truth must prove stronger than anything else. Say, for instance, a sports reporter comments on attendance at a basketball game. The reporter might really like the fans, but if the attendance is poor and the reporter sugarcoats it, then that’s not objectivity. If a reporter doesn’t write negatively about a quarterback after he costs his team a game just because the reporter likes the quarterback, that’s not objectivity; that’s not the truth conquering all else. To reach a point where the truth conquers all else, a journalist’s approach to the job must be rooted in neutrality. Notions from a reporter’s yesteryear will always be in their mind, yes. But the best, most ethical reporters can make such memories and thoughts irrelevant. Objectivity, Kovach and Rosenstiel say, is a method, a discipline, a habit of mind. They are too modest to appropriate the idea as their own. They defer to Walter Lippmann’s work: “the method is objective, not the journalist. The key was in the discipline of the craft, not the aim.”

 

Most professional sportswriters don’t cover teams they root for; it’s just too hard to be independent. I’m a friend of Terez Paylor of the Kansas City Star. Terez is a Detroit native and a big fan of Detroit’s sports teams, which is why, he’s told me, he doesn’t ever want to cover any of those teams. He can’t be independent while covering them, and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to. He really likes watching one of the Lions’ best players. He doesn’t want to have his thoughts about that player ruined by covering him and finding out he’s actually a terrible person. And if he did find such a thing out and not want to report it, then he’s doing the public an injustice by not reporting the truth. I’m a huge Chicago Blackhawks fan; they’ve given me some of the happiest moments of my life by winning two Stanley Cups in the last four years. There is no way I could step into that arena, find out that my favorite player is actually some terrible human, and be independent in my journalism.

 

As a sportswriter in the infantile stage of his career, this concept of “lose the fandom” is something I’ve had to contend with and improve upon. After I chose MU as my college destination during my junior year of high school, I became a Tiger fan. I bought Tiger apparel at the bookstore at the end of my visit. I made a point in the fall of senior year to watch Mizzou football games. In the following spring, I stayed home from school one day to watch the Tigers play in the NCAA Tournament. My Tiger pride was high. M-I-Z, Z-O-U. Arriving on campus as a wide-eyed freshman in August 2010 only added to my fandom. Now I was actually attending football games. Now I was surrounded by other Mizzou fans; people I could talk to about Tiger sports. This continued during the ensuing basketball season and then football season my sophomore year, too. Then came basketball season my sophomore year basketball season. It was Frank Haith’s first as coach here, the year the Tigers were 30-4 and shockingly lost to Norfolk State in the NCAA Tournament’s first round. I was the beat writer covering that team for The Maneater, the independent student newspaper at the University of Missouri.

 

There was no more cheering. No more black-and-gold clothes being worn. Missouri sports teams were no longer “we” to me. Missouri sports teams had a fanbase I no longer was a part of, despite attending school here. I’d return to giddy roommates in my apartment after every big win. I’d feign neutrality, trying to suppress any excitement and happiness. But I really still was, I was just suppressing it. When the loss to Norfolk State was over, I was stunned. Incredibly disappointed. But I still went into the locker room and still wrote a story. That was two years ago.

 

Now, one season on the Tiger football beat for The Maneater and one season on the basketball beat for The Missourian later, I’ve come a long way in terms of maintaining an independence from the subjects I cover.

 

This excerpt from The Journalist’s Creed is something I took to heart that has helped me make the strides that I’ve made.

 

“I believe that clear thinking and clear statement, accuracy and fairness are fundamental to good journalism.”

 

They are. Covering this year’s basketball team is my case in point. By all accounts, this team underachieved. That assessment was cemented when the Tigers were left out of the NCAA Tournament on Selection Sunday. Had I not been able to set aside my fandom and already-formed thoughts on some of the players going into this season, my coverage likely would have been different. Some of the losses would have likely been blown out of proportion, like fans often make them, and my thoughts on Frank Haith’s coaching acumen (or lack thereof) would have seeped into my writing, thus presenting readers with a skewed version of the situation. But a clear, neutral train of thought going into the season allowed me to maximize accuracy and fairness, which in turn maximized the quality of my journalism.

 

Though as this season went on, I saw another way in which this need for independence can manifest itself while covering a beat. In December, I wrote a story on Ryan Rosburg, a sophomore who didn’t play last year but who this year was is a starter. Early in the season, he was a decent player. And as I learned from talking to people, his regained confidence had a lot to do with it. So I wrote 1,200-word story on the strides he’d taken since last season. Rightfully so, it painted Ryan in a positive light. His parents, whom I interviewed for the story, absolutely loved it. In turn, they started to adore me. Paul Rosburg, Ryan’s father, would come to the press area before each game and chat with me for 5-10 minutes. They consistently read my stories; they’ve told me numerous times how they tell friends and relatives that I’m only a student and that they’re big fans of my work. I also think they brag about my upcoming internship in California more than my mother does. It makes me laugh, but I’d be lying if I said it also didn’t make me feel good. Especially because they are genuinely good people, and who doesn’t like good people?

 

The part where independence comes in is in Ryan’s performance as the season wore on. He just wasn’t very good. He added next to nothing offensively for the Tigers and became much maligned by fans. I wrote, many times, about the struggles of Ryan and his fellow post players and how they were holding the team back. It was quite clearly true, and fair. But had I been afraid to upset his parents, had I not achieved independence from that professional relationship I had developed with them, those stories might not have been so blunt.

 

And in all the conversations I had with the Rosburgs, you know what never came up and was never an issue? My pointing out their son’s struggles on the court. Because they knew he wasn’t the greatest player. They were realistic about it. And because I was always fair about it, I never unnecessarily criticized him or took criticism too far. Had I not maintained independence and not criticized him the first few times it was warranted, maybe his family wouldn’t have been so appreciative of my objectivity later on in the season. But I was fair all season, something that helped present the truth in its entirety, something that was made possible by having a clear mind, the necessary independence.

 

Because, like Walter Williams wrote in The Journalist’s Creed…

 

“I believe that the journalism which succeeds best — and best deserves success — fears God and honors Man; is stoutly independent, unmoved by pride of opinion or greed of power…”