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Show Page 4 Signpost Supplement Spring 1976 Second Place Non-Fiction Free Press Costly Responsibility by Chris Hicks In his Nobel Prize lecture in 1972, Russian author Aleksander I. Solzhenitsyn gave this warning to all nations with regard to the exercise of their freedom: Woe to that nation whose literature is disturbed by the intervention of power. Because that is not just a violation against "freedom of print." It is the closing down of the heart of the nation, a slashing to pieces of its memory. Solzhenitsyn's statement is somewhat ironic in that it comes from a man who is a native of that country most often identified with supression of the printed word. It is perhaps such an irony that is necessary to emphasize the seriousness of this subject. A free press is precendential to a free people and therefore vital to the survival of our government. It is not, however, without its own responsibilities. The printed press has been as active a part of this country's growth ' for nearly 300 years as television has been for the last 25 years. Contrary to the trend of popular thought, however, freedom of the press was not guaranteed by the original Constitution of the United States. Indeed, when a delegate to the Constitutional Convention from South Carolina, Charles Pickney, suggested a clause insuring freedom of speech, press and assembly; it was rejected. Alexander Hamilton led the dissension, writing that Congress had no hold on the press and, therefore, the people themselves were responsible for the security of a free press. That the people demanded an enumeration of the rights in their new Constitution enforced Hamilton's conjecture, and in 1791 they received their desire. The Bill of Rights was ratified at the end of that year and within it was contained the First Amendment to the Constitution: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. It is the interpretation of this amendment which has caused great consternation over whether legal bounds or limits should encumber this lack of abridgement for the sake of privacy, fair trial, national security, or embarrassment. The founding fathers had no such difficulty. Thomas Jefferson was the foremost enthusiast for freedom of the press and observed its importance by stating, "... were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter." But in his time freedom of the press implied no standards of performance or responsibility. Those realizations took shape with the progress oftime as the press began to recognize its place as a protector of rights and an introducer of change. Even more importantly, the press is a daily transmitter of information to 150 million reading Americans ; a schoolmaster of the people. By indicating the transmission of information there is an implication of accuracy ; of truth in that information ; of facts reported. Truth, of course is a complicated commidity. As long ago as the time of Christ, Pontius Pilate craftily evaded the question by asking, "What is truth?" More often today he is paraphrased by asking, "How much truth?" The amount of truth needed for the press to inform the public is best illustrated by the universality with which almost anyone can identify certain infamies by the mention of a name. These examples immediately conjure up images of alleged pre-trial injustice caused by the press engaging in information overkill: Sam Sheppard, Lieutenant Calley, Charles Manson, Bruno Hauptmann (the Lindbergh kidnapping), and more recently, Sara Moore, Lynette Fromme, and Patty Hearst. In some cases the press is to blame for excesses in print, but it should be remembered that most prejudicial information comes from police officers, prosecutors, wardens, lawyers and even judges themselves. The press should be responsible enough not to print all that it receives, but, in the words of Columbia Law School Professor Abraham Sofaer, "No one has the right to get away with a crime that is so notorious everybody knows about it." Getting away with it can and does happen, through appeals on the basis of the press causing an unfair trial, a fair trial by evidence also being guaranteed by our Constitution. Thus, we have the justice yo-yo; the much trod thin line between the rights of the people and the rights of the individual. These cases are surely what prompted New York Times managing editor Abe Rosenthal to explain that he knows the press is in trouble with the public, because the average time between his arrival at a party and the time someone starts flaying the press is only two minutes, 42 seconds. If the press is in trouble with the public, that has only aggravated the trouble it has with the government. Like the names mentioned earlier; Watergate, CIA probes, Pentagon Papers, FBI cover-ups, and military drug experiments are terms which bring to mind the ongoing debate between those who view such issues as exploited, making us look foolish to other nations, and those who see them as revelations, a promoting of better scrutiny of those whom we elect. Halfway There Cont. from Page 4 Her father appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Well, does anybody want to go?" "I do," Susan squeeked. Her father smiled at her and he seemed surprised. "Well, let's go." They walked out to the car in silence: Susan could hear the keys jingling as her father searched for the right one and inserted it into the ignition. She could feel the hard, cold leather seats through her corduroy pants. She should say something. What could she say that her father would want to hear? They drove off down the street. Susan pressed her nose against the window and watched as the lights from neighboring houses approached, grew bright, then disappeared. Maybe she could tell her father about the one hundred she had finally gotten on her spelling test, but then he would think that was dumb. The blinker cut through the silence and clicked conspicuously every few seconds. Susan bit on her tongue. She wished they would hurry and get to the post office. Nervous feelings tugged at her stomach. She wished her father would turn the radio on. "How's school?" her father's voice sounded extra loud after the long silence. "Fine," Susan answered. Why didn't she say more? Why didn't she tell her father about the spelling test. Why didn't she tell him how Miss Kapp had said she could do division better than anyone else in the fifth grade? Something, anything was better than nothing. A green sign approached and Susan leaned forward to catch the luminous numbers in the now dark night. Ten more miles. They were almost home. Susan sort of wished the bus could just keep right on going. It was so peaceful to just be alone without worrying about what to say to anyone. She hadn't been home since school had started, not since the funeral. Things had been all green then. Flowers had bloomed where the snow now crusted over everything. It seemed strange to go from summer to winter, without seeing any fall in between. "She looks so nice, so peaceful." Mrs. Thompson squeezed Susan's hand. "I'm sure it was the best thing, the way the car was completely demolished. She was always so active. She would have never been happy in a wheel chair." Susan stretched her lips into a forced smile. "Thank you for coming," she said. Susan could feel the queeziness churning inside and wished she could block the sickeningly sweet smell of flowers out. Flowers, red, yellow, everywhere. She looked up at her father. He stood there in his Sunday suit looking just the same as he always did on Sunday mornings. The only difference was the far away, unconscious look in his blue eyes. She wished she could talk to him, not just 'good morning' or 'How did you sleep?'. No, not that, she meant really talk. She needed him. Susan suddenly saw the blue neon greyhound above the bus station. Maybe she shouldn't have come at all. Both she and her father would probably have enjoyed the holiday more if she hadn't. Things would be so uncomfortable. But then it was Christmas and there was no acceptable way of getting out of the visit no matter how each of them dreaded it. And besides, Christmas was a family time. She needed her father. She needed to sit in front of the fire and drink hot chocolate the way they always had on Christmas Eve. She needed to decorate the tree and listen to Christmas records. She needed to be home. The bus pulled into the dimly lit parking lot. She hoped her father would be there on time. She hated sitting in bus stations by herself. She moved up the aisle and found her way out of the front door of the bus. Her eyes searched the dark parking lot for her father. Then suddenly she heard a deep voice behind her. "Susan?" "Oh, hi, Dad," she turned and smiled at him. They stood silent for a while facing each other, then her father's voice said, "How was school?" "Fine." There was so much more to say. Why wouldn't anything else come out? Susan began to feel the uneasy quiet creep upon them. A large lump filled her throat. Why couldn't she relax? Why couldn't things be right. for once? Suddenly she felt her father's arm slip rather awkwardly about her shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise. "Hey, Susie," he said clearning his throat, "It's great to have you home." Susan buried her face into the shoulder of her father's wool coat. Tears gathered in her blue eyes. "Hey, it's great to be here." "What am I thinking?" he straightened up suddenly. "I bet you're hungry after that long ride. How about going out for a bit to eat?" "Only if we can have hamburgers and orange soda pop," Susan smiled. Her father looked at her, puzzled for a moment, then gradually a large smile spread across his face. "Sounds great to me? Let's go find your suitcase." . Further, we might ask if former president Richard M. Nixon's resignation is a blight upon our history or proof that our system of government really does work. Of course, because of the extremes which had already taken place, it is safe to say that our system of government worked because we escaped; and barely. It may be recalled that former vjice president Spiro T. Agnew's attacks on the press had already begun to limit speech analyzation and criticism of the Nixon Administration when Watergate broke. If it were not for those brave journalists who persevered, Watergate might still be under raps and Nixon might still be our president. The Pentagon Papers recently brought to trial the morality of publishing illegally obtained documents such as the items frequently appearing in Jack Anderson's national column. Often, as in the Pentagon Papers case, the truth is an embarrassment more than a violation of national security. Even such conservative publications as Utah's own Deseret News supported that case, though they qualified their remarks lest they be accused of supporting theft. Needless to say the government has been at serious odds with the press over these and related cases. The obvious solution to this conflict is a happy medium between the press and the government reached by mutual agreement. Anthony Burgess expressed it best: "...if it were not for the intervention of the law, anybody with better muscles than you could quite easily make you shut up." Part of that law must insure that there will be no censorship of facts. It is true that journalists too often interpret the "right" of the people in the First Amendment to mean the "rights" of the reporter or editor, but while common sense and good taste must prevail, who can decide what news to withhold? Who is to say where freedom ends and censorship begins? Dr. Paul Sagers, superintendent of the Utah State Training School at American Fork, recently admitted that he tried to get the Utah Assistant Attorney General Frank Nelson to stop television station KUTV from broadcasting their controversial expose' of that school. If he had been successful, perhaps Governor Rampton and others involved in the school would have been saved the consequential embarrassment, but the shocking conditions of the school would have remained a bureaucratic secret, assuming that the report is correct until proven otherwise. Dale Minor points out the need for a journalistic Hippocratic Oath. The American Society of Newspaper Editors adopted a code in 1923 which, when followed, is the equivalent of a Hippocratic Oath for jouranlists. It details several canons as the aspirations of American journalism. Specifically, they are responsibility, freedom, independence, sincerity, truthfulness and accuracy, impartiality, fair play, and decency. Perhaps government should have a Hippocratic Oath, or each politician might just adhere to his oath of office. Hopefully, the press will find its only restraints after-the-fact with regard to government and public. Prior restraint should exist only insofar as it is self-imposed, and then only for the sake of good taste or national security. It should never be "abridged" in order to suppress either the public's right to know or "unpopular" opinion. Someone once said, "The job of the newspaper is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, "Freedom of speech does not extend to shouting fire in a crowded theater." But he failed to note that that is only applicable in the absence of a fire. Perhaps we should go back to our beginnings and" ponder another statement by Thomas Jefferson: "When the press is free and every man able to read, all is well." |