When should journalists admit mistakes? [View this email online]( [NPR Public Editor by Poynter's Kelly McBride]( All humans make mistakes. Most humans are bad at admitting their errors. When’s the last time you said, “I was wrong.” Every reputable news organization has a policy for correcting its errors. And most mistakes are small, like, “We spelled that guy’s name wrong.” But there are a few newsrooms that encourage the type of self-reflection that would lead to saying, “We could have done that better” on a regular basis. By having a Public Editor, NPR is definitely striving to be that place. As you will see from a couple of the letters today, audience members mostly appreciate it when a journalist looks back and can admit to a few flaws. That doesn’t make it any easier for the journalists who find their work under scrutiny. [Being Wrong book cover]( From the Inbox Here are a few quotes from the Public Editor's inbox that resonated with us. You can share your questions and concerns with us through the [NPR Contact page](. Never admitting you’re wrong David Barak writes: I don't recall NPR ever responding with "Good point, you're right" in responding to audience feedback, like in [last week's] NPR Public Editor email newsletter. It seems instead to always be a case of NPR setting the audience member straight. Does NPR never have a lapse in judgment? If that's the case please send me the recipe. You’re right, we don’t often hear a flat-out “you’re right” from NPR, but there are examples where the newsroom has admitted to missteps. Here are a few: - In March, [we questioned the use of the word “scavenger”]( in a reference to people gathering food discarded by a supermarket. Scott Neuman, an NPR Digital News writer/editor whose byline appeared on [the story]( told us via email that if he could do it over, he would select a different word.
- Here & Now Editor Eileen Bolinsky [told us]( that her team will “use other language where possible” in response to a listener’s question about a story that referenced a “homeless person” instead of using the person-first language of a “person without housing.”
- When Code Switch posted a story headlined “[One Author's Controversial View: 'In Defense Of Looting']( based on an interview with a provocative author who made several questionable assertions that lacked context, former Code Switch editor Steve Drummond [said]( “This piece was fact-checked but we should have done more.”
- And for those who missed last week’s newsletter: Fresh Air guest interviewer Arun Venugopal [intended to use the term “Third World”]( in an ironic way, but it didn’t register for one listener who wrote to us. Venugopal admitted he could’ve made it more clear by saying something like “the so-called Third World” or the more acceptable term, “the developing world.” These examples — all of them fairly small — demonstrate that at times someone at NPR does admit an error in judgment. Having a hard time admitting you made a mistake is common throughout journalism, not just at NPR. Kathryn Schulz [wrote an entire book]( about it, called Being Wrong. There’s a sense of shame that comes with being wrong, particularly in the news business, Schulz writes in the book. We on the Public Editor team are often reticent to say “you're right,” or “you’re wrong,” as well, but for different reasons. We aim to spark a conversation before we tell you what we think. That said, there are many examples where we have agreed with audience members who offer critiques. The strongest examples are anchored in Public Editor columns. We [delved into internet outrage]( over a Morning Edition business story and found that it oversimplified how unemployment works. We [criticized NPR for not fully disclosing]( the close friendship between Legal Affairs Correspondent Nina Totenberg and the late Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. And last July, McBride also sided with audience members who thought Morning Edition host Steve Inskeep let former U.S. Attorney General William Barr [state a falsehood]( on the show. By mediating a conversation between NPR and listeners and readers who have a question or a critique, as well as tossing out a few of our own observations, we strive to influence NPR journalists to see their work from another point of view. Along the way, we sometimes discover information that may help consumers better understand NPR’s work. When we see a clear lapse in judgment, we say so. — Kelly McBride and Amaris Castillo with research from Kayla Randall Warning! Christina Vieira writes: I do not recall the exact details of the story, but was listening to your news report over the radio and wondered why … the [French story regarding]( an assault on a woman by a man who was [on drugs] was prefaced with a “warning” to listeners that the content could be disturbing... The account was actually devoid of graphic detail, certainly nothing that surpassed the deeply tragic [MOVE story]( … Of course, what is “disturbing” is largely subjective … Either drop the warning caption on all stories or apply them to all. Warnings are somewhat controversial. They’ve been called trigger warnings, content warnings and disclosures, and there has been plenty of discourse on the topic, from [NPR]( to [The Atlantic]( to [Slate](. [Their use and effectiveness]( have frequently been [questioned and critiqued](. The idea is well-meaning. For NPR’s purposes, these disclosures are meant to ready listeners for upsetting content, so they can decide to change the station or hit pause. Here are a few additional examples of language NPR used to alert readers and listeners to disturbing material:
- “[Editor’s note:]( This story includes details of violence that readers may find disturbing.”
- “[And we should]( advise you that this story contains audio from the shooting, which many people will find disturbing.”
- “[And just a warning]( — some details in this story are disturbing.”
You are questioning how these decisions are made. Much of the news is disturbing, including the two stories you cited. Why would one story merit a warning and another air without a warning? In the two stories you brought to our attention, one was about a recent court ruling for a 2017 crime and the other about a bombing that happened in 1985. Perhaps the amount of time that passed influenced the decision to not include a warning for the latter? Still, as you say, it’s a deeply tragic story. When we asked several leaders at NPR how they choose which stories get warnings, we only got a short explanation reiterating why warnings are added. The decision to add a warning is a window into NPR’s ability to relate to listeners. Overusing warnings can undermine their intentions. Underusing them can convey a callousness to suffering. While there are some stories that many people can agree are disturbing, what is disturbing enough to require a warning is largely subjective. Some may find disclosures pointless, and others may find them useful. We’ll continue listening and asking to see if NPR’s use is even-handed. — Kayla Randall Escalating violence in Gaza and Israel Seth Morrison writes: [This report is]( sadly misleading because in answering Rachel Martin about the impetus to these clashes Estrin failed to mention the Israeli efforts to steal Palestinian homes in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood which is widely recognized as the main trigger for these protests. I know that NPR has mentioned this situation before but it should be included in every report on the situation in Jerusalem. Tim Davis writes: My wife and I, who lived in Israel, cannot believe the reporting on the rocket fire from Gaza failed to mention the Israeli settler eviction of Palestinians from their homes in Sheikh Jarrah, and the attacks by Israelis at the Al-Aqsa Mosque. This is beyond biased reporting. As a supporter of NPR, I am rethinking my monthly membership until there is more truthful, fair and balanced coverage of the reality that led to the retaliatory missile attacks. Please adhere to the journalistic principles you claim to hold. Sarah Hadi writes: I’m an avid NPR listener and today on NPR News, Lakshmi Singh reported [[from 12 p.m. to 4 p.m. on 5/10]( on the escalating situation in Israel, and I was very disappointed and frankly, concerned with the lack of explanation of the growing violence, where the newscast solely focused on rockets landing in Israel with virtually zero context of the most recent developments coming out of Al-Aqsa mosque and East Jerusalem, where Palestinians are being harassed, barricaded, and kicked out of their homes. I expect at the very least, somewhat “balanced” journalism especially from NPR, and I urge that if NPR chooses to include the conflict in its newscast, it does not misguide listeners or readers by not disclosing key information about what’s really going on. These are just a few of the notes that came in this week critiquing NPR’s coverage of the clashes in Israel and Gaza. Many listeners and readers were upset that NPR reports and stories do not always connect the escalating conflict specifically to Israeli provocation. International Correspondent Daniel Estrin has been in the middle of this escalation, [providing updates]( several times a day. He has discussed the Israeli police [using force]( on Ramadan gatherings, the [Sheikh Jarrah]( neighborhood and [the conflict at]( the [Al-Aqsa Mosque](. Middle East Editor Larry Kaplow told me, “We plan to continue noting Sheikh Jarrah but, of course, as parties involved opt for steps escalating the conflict we’ll have to devote attention to the dangers those pose.” With violence escalating, the correspondent's job is to give the audience a window into what is happening on the ground. Estrin's reporting has been particularly strong in that sense. The sequence of events that led up to a particular moment is important too. Over the course of a day those details are included in NPR's reporting, but not in every single story. — Kelly McBride Spotlight On The Public Editor spends a lot of time examining moments where NPR fell short. Yet we also learn a lot about NPR by looking at work that we find to be compelling and excellent journalism. Here we share a line or two about the pieces where NPR shines. Motherhood one year into the pandemic and counting Weekend Edition Sunday [made meaningful space for mothers]( this past Mother’s Day. Four moms shared their experiences of parenting before and during the pandemic. The insights and emotions were profound. “Motherhood is like climbing a mountain,” said Aurore Michel, who gave birth to her first child last December. “You go up the mountain, and everything seems really, really good, and then you may slip a little bit.” Through all the ups and downs of being a mother, as Emma Cabiles said of her daughter, “no matter what happens, she will always be the most important thing in my life.” — Kayla Randall Baby names [Baby Vivica]( Photograph by Jessica Peterson; Collage by Becky Harlan/NPR
LIFE KIT
[There's A Story Behind Every Baby Name. Here Are Yours]( Following [an episode on]( choosing baby names, Life Kit [published personal stories]( from its audience members on Mother’s Day about how they chose their children’s names. The result is a lovely look at the art of naming babies, and a reminder of all the decisions that led to our own names. — Kayla Randall One question We ask NPR journalists one question about how their work came together. How do you throw your own birthday party? May 3 marked 50 years since [the very first broadcast]( of NPR’s All Things Considered. To mark this milestone, NPR has unfurled an anniversary celebration, the planning of which began in late 2018. The stories pegged to [#NPR50]( ranged from a look at [how NPR shattered the old model]( of broadcast journalism to a [first-person piece]( by Bill Siemering — the first director of programming — on the news organization’s original mission statement. Consider This from NPR [offered an insider look]( at the evolution of NPR’s voice, with the help of high-profile journalists like former All Things Considered host Michele Norris and Ira Glass, who famously left NPR after it rejected his idea for a show that would become This American Life. Suraya Mohamed, a senior producer for NPR50, and Kris Beecroft, a senior project manager who is overseeing the project, told us in a joint note that they wanted to include staff, Member stations, donors, NPR alumni, etc., “but without becoming too self-congratulatory.” “We wanted to acknowledge the past 50 years and NPR’s evolution from a scrappy start-up network to the media organization it is today, but more than that, we wanted to focus on the next 50 years and how NPR needs to evolve on the everchanging media platforms to attract an audience that better reflects the changing demographics of our country,” the note read. The pandemic forced NPR to scrap its original celebration plans. Mohamed and Beecroft told me that, early this year, they had to move quickly to figure out a way to mark this important milestone and be more thoughtful than celebratory. The NPR50 logo was designed to capture what public radio has meant to its audiences since 1971. That’s how the slogan Hear Every Voice came about, which they said embodies the news organization’s original mission statement, written by Siemering in 1970: “National Public Radio will serve the individual: it will promote personal growth; it will regard the individual differences among men with respect and joy rather than derision and hate; it will celebrate the human experience as infinitely varied rather than vacuous and banal …” It’s clear that NPR still has a ways to go, Mohamed and Beecroft wrote. “Our Hear Every Voice slogan is a reminder that improvement is still needed and that we can better represent the diversity of our country by creating content with a diverse array of voices and perspectives,” the note read. “Using this moment as an opportunity to reimagine what public radio can be for the audiences of tomorrow, we hope our NPR50-themed stories will reflect those values and priorities.” — Amaris Castillo The Office of the Public Editor is a team. Researchers Amaris Castillo and Kayla Randall make this newsletter possible. We are still reading all of your messages on [Facebook]( [Twitter]( and [from our inbox](. As always, keep them coming. Kelly McBride
NPR Public Editor
Chair, [Craig Newmark Center for Ethics & Leadership at the Poynter Institute]( Kelly McBride, Public Editor Kayla Randall, NPR Amaris Castillo, Poynter Institute The Public Editor stands as a source of independent accountability. Created by NPR's board of directors, the Public Editor serves as a bridge between the newsroom and the audience, striving to both listen to the audience's concerns and explain the newsroom's work and ambitions. The office ensures NPR remains steadfast in its mission to present fair, accurate and comprehensive information in service of democracy. [Read more]( from the NPR Public Editor, [contact us]( or follow us on [Twitter](. You received this message because you're subscribed to Public Editor emails. This email was sent by National Public Radio, Inc., 1111 North Capitol Street NE, Washington, DC 20002 [Unsubscribe]( | [Privacy Policy](
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