Photoshopping and Fucking

There's been an interesting story doing the rounds about how bloggers have exposed a Beirut-based photographer for digitally manipulating his war images. The photographer, Adnan Hajj, turned out to be working for Reuters, and the news agency hastily dismissed him and removed his entire archive of photographs - around 900 images - from their database.

This has been cited as an example of 'citizen journalism' helping to make the media more accountable and transparent. And the National Union of Journalists was prompted to issue a rather lame and belated press release condemning the practice.

Meanwhile, on an email discussion list for editorial photographers, initial discussion centred on how awful the photographer's 'Photoshopping' skills were. Not the fact that a trusted newsgatherer was prepared to distort the truth and, in doing so, prepared to compromise the integrity and reputation of other photographers currently risking their lives in the Lebanon.

But how far was the truth actually distorted? So far we have been presented with evidence that Hajj added some extra plumes of smoke and, possibly, accentuated the extent of damage caused by Israeli bombs to one of his images. It also appears that he might have added a couple of extra flares being fired to a picture of an Israeli fighter jet.

Yet, up to a point, this kind of post-doctoring is common practice. Given the technology to do it, what photographer would not attempt to enhance his images by, for example, brightening colours or making skies appear more dramatic? Furthermore, the staging of news pictures has a long history and is still widespread today. As long as the essence of the story is not misrepresented, what is wrong with a certain amount of interpretation? After all, this is exactly what happens with writers.

If he is guilty as charged, Hajj clearly overstepped the mark. And given the ferocious politics in the Middle East, has been more than a tad foolish (his images really did not need any enhancement to tell the story). But, as wiser voices on the editorial photographers' email list pointed out, the real story is how they got past Reuters' editors. Without proper gatekeepers in place, and given the current proliferation in potentially unreliable citizen contributors, it is no surprise that news organisations are laying themselves open to mauling by politically motivated bloggers.

Hajj has become a scapegoat. Perhaps he will find some solace in cleaning up on all the unauthorised uses of his images around the world. It should amount to a tidy sum in reproduction fees.

That's right bloggers. It's called copyright.

Those nice people at The Guardian...

Press release just out from the National Union of Journalists (reproduced verbatim):

Night editor wins RSI damages of £37,500

A Guardian newspaper night editor who was refused access to the company physiotherapist after developing crippling elbow pain and was eventually forced to leave the paper, has been paid £37, 500 damages.

Andrea Osbourne, who had been a casual at the paper for two and a half years, worked almost exclusively using a mouse, at speed, for an average nine hours a night, and up to 45 hours a week, without a break. No risk assessment was carried out when she started the job in February 2001.

By May 2002 she had developed stiffness and pain in her right elbow. Soon she was unable even to lift a kettle. Her GP diagnosed repetitive strain injury, gave her a cortisone injection and told her the waiting list for NHS physio was so long she should seek help from her employer. The Guardian's HR department refused.

Requests for a workplace assessment were ignored by the health and safety unit, and a risk assessment, which was eventually carried out by the editor's PA, did not cover mouse usage.

Andrea carried on working because the injection had eased the pain. Another request to see the company physio was refused as she was told the facility was only available to permanent members of staff, not to casuals. The HR department advised that the pain was caused by a neck problem and was nothing to do with the mouse.

The pain returned in early 2003 and was so intense that Andrea was unable to bend her elbow. The pain eased during the day but finally, in March 2003, it had become constant and she was unable to continue working. She was told by a hospital consultant that she would never be able to do that type of work again and was advised to seek an alternative career.

She was unable to work and suffered financial difficulties. Gradually, following nine months or rest and physio, the movement returned in her right elbow and she eventually secured a lower paid job in new media.

Andrea said: "The Guardian showed absolutely no sympathy. Because I was employed as a casual and didn’t have a permanent contract, they refused my requests for physiotherapy and made no attempt to find a way for me to work which would have reduced the repetitive strain in my elbow. The paper has all but ended my career in website editing and production."

Marion Voss, Andrea's solicitor at NUJ lawyers Thompsons said: "The Guardian failed in its duty of care to Andrea. This is one of the worse cases Thompsons has seen of a newspaper employer refusing to follow basic health and safety procedures. When so much is being talked about by HR professionals and the insurance industry about the importance of rehabilitation, that the paper refused Andrea treatment that might have enabled her to keep working is disgraceful."

How journalism works (sometimes)

About four years ago, I was at a conference which was covered by specialist correspondents from most of the national papers.

The press officers from the organisation behind the conference were very attentive, giving regular briefs on the 'breaking' stories of the day and obligingly offering up case studies and people who had taken part in the key debates for the press to interview.

The correspondents huddled together for the briefs, interviewed the subjects collectively, and checked with each other afterwards to make sure they had written down the quotes correctly.

For the press officers, it was like spoonfeeding babies. Not one paper journalist dared to do anything different - in fact they even checked with each other to make sure they were all following the same angle on their stories. So much for competition between national newspapers then.

The best part came when, on the eve of a planned press dinner with the press officers, the woman from the Daily Mail offered to finish off the Guardian correspondents' story for him while he nipped back to his hotel to get changed. To his credit, he turned her down, but he did not seem to be that surprised or shocked by the suggestion.

So everyone has an easy life, no-one gets a bollocking from their editor for missing a story, and the press officers get to dictate the news agenda as their employers would wish.

As like as chalk and cheese?

Journalists are in the business of exposing the truth, PRs are in the business of twisting it. Journalists want nothing more than to strip away the protective layers with which the powerful camouflage their objectives or their achievements; PRs are paid by the powerful to prevent precisely this. So no, there is no moral equivalence between journalism and PR.

Thus wrote Cristina Odone in the Guardian last month, further fuelling the debate that has raged over Julia Hobsbawm's attempt to bridge the divide betwen PRs and journalists that is Editorial Intelligence.

Oh if only it were so black and white as that. The truth is a murkier grey.

In an increasingly controlling and paranoid world, PRs have proliferated and risen to the surface like the scum on a cup of calciferous tea to increasingly obfuscate truth and obstruct journalists in their daily lives. But journalists have to get a job done like everyone else and, under the pressure of deadlines, or possibly motivated by ruthless ambition, they are easy prey to the more skillful practitioners of the black arts.

A favour here, a genuine news tidbit there, some horsetrading over what to report and what not to, oh and here's a freebie (feel free to write what you think about it, because obviously you cannot be bought).

And so it goes on.

Morally on higher ground? Perhaps, but on a very slippery slope.

Some working definitions...

Journos - people in the business of public relations, or the willing mouthpieces of public relations people, pretending to be, or aspiring to be, journalists. And/or someone who is prepared to write fiction masquerading as fact for money. EG a typical 'journo' would be prepared to invent quotes or encourage interviewees to lie in order to please editors. Journos tend to congregate in groups to mutually massage their egos, but are scared easily if challenged.

Journojizz - the emission(s) from journos

Fluffies - supporters of, or people aspiring to be, 'journos'

Just because a party issues a statement doesn't mean you have to report it

The Liberal Democrats' biggest and most controversial political donor has been arrested in Spain on 53 charges of forgery and dishonesty, it emerged today. So begins the piece in the Times, the paper that has been doing an excellent job watching and reporting on Michael Brown for months.

BBC online has a very odd take, giving significant space to the Lib Dems attempts to put distance between themselves and the donor. "But a party spokesman stressed there was "no connection" between the charges and Mr Brown's donations," says the fourth para in its story. And later "A Liberal Democrat spokesman said: "We are not aware that this has any connection whatsoever with the Liberal Democrats.

I don't get it. Of course there's a connection. A bloke who gave a very large amount of money is under arrest for forgery and dishonesty. Why is the BBC giving space to this absurd spin?

Les

Undercover reporting

Police in Leicestershire are waiting anxiously for a C4 Dispatches programme to be aired Thursday of next week.

Rumour is that a police officer turned journalist (it's complicated), who had a grudge against her Leicester colleagues, secretly filmed them at work. And not at work. She shows scenes of officers on duty playing cards, watching porn and generally failing to respond to radio calls.

Two-and-a-half years ago the BBC screened secretly filmed scenes of overt racism among the police. Reporter Mark Daly who had joined Greater Manchester Police was arrested on suspicion of obtaining a pecuniary advantage by deception. He was also suspected of damaging police property - which he had to do to fit the camera and battery pack. In the end, the reporter was not charged. But several police officers or trainees resigned or were sacked.

It seems unlikely that next week's programme will have half the significance as the Manchester racism revelations. Yet the impact on morale and officers will be enormous. The mood in Leicester is said to be serious and some officers are already off sick.

It cannot be long before some disaffected groups start to film journalists undercover. How much overt racism and sexism is there in UK newsrooms? What lies and hypocrisies could be revealed if the public saw what reporters and their editorial bosses are really like? Are the viewing public ready for such revelations - or would they just shrug and say they expected as much?

Les

Letting sources see copy

Should journalists let sources see drafts of copy? It's a warmly debated question among hacks. That's partly because there is no one-size-fits-all answer. And plenty of people who think there is.

Without rehearsing the issues (another day, perhaps), it is interesting to note from a profile of Seymour Hersh, journalistic hero to many of us, that the great man does it as a matter of course. From a piece by Julian Borger in today's Graun:

Finally, Hersh sets out on late-night drives, dropping drafts of his stories through the letterboxes of his sources to give them a chance to confirm he has interpreted their information correctly and that he is not going to publish anything that will put the US at risk.

To some editors, this would be a disciplinary offence.

Les

Tables turned - interviewing journos

What are journalists like to interview? I've just finished a feature for which I needed the views of some local newspapers. So I did what you do, and rang a few up. And emailed them. And rang them back. And generally persisted until someone agreed to speak to me.

Here's a rough version of the merry phone chase:

Editor of an evening paper in the north of England. Apologetic. Very busy. Out of the office next day. Try again the day after, around ten. Called him several times morning and afternoon. His phone rang no one answered, no voice mail. Must have been a works outing.

The following week I got his secretary, more apologies that he was busy. Finally, the day before he went on holiday, I was passed a message it might be best if I spoke to the news editor.

Daily paper in the south of England. Two or three calls to news desk. Passed around various reporters. Pleasant but unproductive chats. One reporter agreed to send an email round editorial with my phone number & someone would get back to me - that's the way they do things, apparently. No one did. Few days later I was told I must speak to the news editor. She's far too busy, going on holiday next day. (Why do people have holidays in March?) Back to a reporter who couldn't possibly talk to me now, the next day, or the one after that, due to meetings, being on news desk and a day off. That bust my deadline.

London local paper. Emailed a named reporter who I'd been told was active and interested. No response.

In the end, I got the quotes I wanted from the news editor on the first paper. Took him by surprise and told him his editor had directed me to him. Which he had. A reporter on the second paper sent an email response to some questions I'd stuck in an email. They sounded as if they had been written by a sanctimonious PR person and approved by a committee. They arrived the day after I filed the piece.

To sum up. What are journalists like to interview? Exactly like everyone else.

Les

Bank holiday moan

All bank holidays are nuisance to a freelance. People you want to get hold of aren't available.

The Easter break is a particular irritation to anyone working on weekly magazines. Two of the mags I write for have a cycle of Tuesday to Monday. That is, there are five working days to get the magazine together for press day, which is Monday. Then the cycle begins again the next day.

Easter takes out a Friday and a Monday. So to give staffers a holiday, which managements like to do because it is cheaper, everyone has to work harder. It is hard to cram a five day cycle into three days. So the usual trick is to have two short weeks. So next week, press day is Friday, a four-day week. Then the cycle can begin on Monday 10 April with another four-day production cycle, going to press on Maundy Thursday.

At one level this shouldn't matter much to me. The production editors want the copy early. No problem. It's all well scheduled in advance. All I have to do is switch days. I write on a Monday what I normally do on Tuesday. There is no more work. it just happens on different days.

But the break to the routine is surprisingly disruptive. I feel out of sync all day. The writing is somehow harder. And I dislike my inability to respond easily to a small change. Expect grumpiness for the next couple of weeks.

Les

Interrupting interviewees

I wrote last week about my tendency to stop interviewees mid flow. Spare a thought for the Australian television reporter who interrupted Tony Blair at the weekend. She spoke over him, just as he said that his declaration that he wasn't looking for a fourth term "may have been a mistake".

Could it have been her moment of international journalistic glory? Perhaps. Instead, other broadcasters paraphrased it. Or, presumably just as galling for her, replayed the crucial section of the interviewer, inviting listeners to pay attention to the "just about audible" admission.

Back in Britain, the media didn't even mention the reporter's name. Nor does a bit of desultory googling bring it up. Perhaps she prefers it that way

Les

Show don't boast

The launch of Guardian technology's free data campaign drew a "huge response". So said the standfirst to the editor's piece on the section's front page last week. The campaign "brought an avalanche of responses," Charles Arthur and his co-writer Michael Cross claimed.

How many responses, exactly, is an avalanche? A letter in today's issue invited the paper to publish the number of responses actually received.

There were 41 responses out of 72 emails received that week - Technology ed.

It can seem cruel to hit someone when they are down. But Arthur is the author of his own humiliation. Serious journalists should report, not exaggerate. They should provide evidence for their claims. They should be precise and accurate. To do otherwise is an insult to readers and a disservice to the cause.

"Fair warning: I did statistics," said Arthur to me in one of his challenges on this blog. Maybe. Now do some honest reporting.

Les

A remedy for journalistic irritation

Stuff like this used to happen. Till I cured it.

I phone someone.

Sorry, not here.
When are you expecting them?
Should be around in twenty minutes.
Okay, I'll ring back then. Thanks.

I get doing something else. A couple of hours later - curses. Slipped my mind. When I do call, they've gone to another meeting & I'm looking for another slot. Rats.

I tried things to remind me. Post-it notes round the monitor. Electronic post-it notes that cluttered up the screen itself, then screwed themselves up and chucked themselves in the bin as required. Mildly entertaining but too clunky.

Then I solved it. I started using the alarm timer on my mobile phone. Quick, easy and never lets me down. Plus, if I happen to be on another call when it rings, that caller hears it, figures I am being called on another line, and doesn't mind if I choose to ring off.

A curious reader ponders: Why not leave a message asking them to ring you back?

Answer: Because, you curious person, I am a freelance journalist. People who sit around waiting for the phone to ring are moon-struck daters or job applicants or something equally horridly passive. I am a hack of action. In control and fearsomely efficient. Brrring, brrring.

Les

A journos' lock-in

Not that kind of lock-in. Journalists are being invited to turn up at the Department for Culture, Media & Sport for a prepublication glimpse of the BBC Charter Review White Paper that's due out tomorrow.

It is officially released at 3.30pm. Hacks who care can turn up anytime from 2pm and get reading. The strict rules are that once you've entered, you can't leave till 3.30pm. All mobile phones and blackberries (they're a trendy lot at the DCMS) will be confiscated at the door.

Sounds dreadful. Or perhaps it's a good chance for an unusually quiet siesta, out of phone reach.

Les

Self-tapping screws

Pity Sir Ian Blair isn't a prison officer. Then that headline might make sense.

Anyway, the next few days - or even, given the seriousness, the next few hours - will show whether it is regarded as okay for the country's top police officer to make covert recordings of phone conversations with the attorney general. "Unconstitutional, unethical and quite possibly illegal", said an almost speechless Shami Chakrabarti on the Today prog this morning. (A state which, she quickly admitted, is not great for radio.) Ian Blair could be on his way out.

As that develops, freelance hacks' thoughts turn to the old question - can we record telephone conversations with interviewees, without letting them know we are doing it?

The short answer is - yes, it's okay. Though a lot of people don't know that.

Many journalists assert confidently that you must always get the interviewee's permission first. Wrong. They are generally quoting from an earlier law, no longer operative. Or thinking about the US, where in some states secret taping is a felony.

The key bit of law now is the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act (RIPA). It says that it could be an offence to attach a recorder to the line to intercept a phone conversation. But only if you make some of the contents available to a third party. If it is for your own use, as a back-up to your notes, you don't have to inform the other person.

In any case, the offence is not criminal but a civil one. The aggrieved party would have to take a civil action against you.

And it is worth noting that the RIPA law covers only recordings made by a physical attachment to the telecommunication system. If you use a speakerphone and a ordinary mike, or an in-ear mike to make the recording, there is no offence.

Two further points:

* This is about recording calls that you are involved in. Recording calls between two other parties is definitely dodgy. That's spying or surveillance or something, not everyday journalism.

* Interception of a phone line for a recording is not prohibited if you have reasonable grounds for assuming the other party is outside the UK

Les

Hoary catchphrases - Emma replies

Like a well-brought-up PR, Emma responds to my email:

Dear Les

The headline sums up the press release which is about our gifted and
talented programme for young people.

Best wishes

Also like a well-brought-up - and highly trained - PR, she fails to answer the questions. I make the point that you can't head a press release with "Young, gifted and..." and not build a certain expectation in readers' minds. And that having built our hopes, it isn't kind to dash them.

I've resigned myself to not expecting further enlightenment. But it was nice of her to reply anyway. I hope we'll be in touch again.

Les

Hoary catchphrases

The boss of journalism.co.uk, John Thompson, yesterday flagged up this blog on a freelance discussion list. His chosen subject line? "New kid on the blog".

That's not surprising. As Kim Fletcher pointed out in Monday's media Guardian, subs have a considerable propensity to offer the "most hoary catchphrases as if they were fresh-minted".

I googled "new kid on the blog" with quote marks. Just over 71,000 hits. Funnily enough, one of them was from two years ago heading a story by Jemima Kiss, also of journalism.co.uk, when they launched Guy Clapperton's blog. This is still going, quiet and strong.

Anyway, I got a press release yesterday with a variation of, yawn, "young, gifted and black", that was so terminally naff that it deserved to be put in a collection. So I have. I emailed the perpetrator, Emma at corporate communications from East Sussex council, as follows:

Hi Emma

I just saw your press release headed "Young, gifted and talented". I'm making a collection of media headlines based on hoary catchphrases and yours certainly deserves a place.

Can you just tell me a bit more about it. Was it consciously based on "young, gifted and black"? If so, why? And why did you change the last word to "talented". Isn't it a bit repetitious, following on from "gifted"? Did you consider having a shorter last word, one that perhaps sounded a bit like black?

Perhaps you can also let me know whether the headline was an individual inspiration or a team effort. If it was just stuck down at the last minute, that would be good to know too.

All thoughts and additional information gratefully received.

Kind regards
Les
freelance journalist

Will keep you posted on her reply.

Les

PR appreciation

You need some figures for a piece you are writing. But you can't find them. You are not even sure they exist. So after a bit of digging around, you call the press office of what you reckon is the relevant government department.

Chances are, you get an answer like this:

"Sorry, we don't keep statistics on that."

Any idea who might? Or who could help shed light on recent trends?

"Not really. Sorry."

And that's an end of it.

Last week it was different. A Whitehall press officer got kinda interested. She knew straight off that no statistics were collected, but offered to email round all the 40-odd regions and ask for impressions. Purely anecdotal, she stressed, but could be useful.

Since then, two or three emails have been arriving daily, with cogent, informed impressions from people in a position to know. Marvellous stuff. Saved me hours of phone work. Genuinely illuminating. And just because I chanced upon a helpful press officer.

Thank you. You won't catch me belly-aching about government press officers again. (Not till next time, anyway.)

Les