Friday, May 16, 2003 | 5:14 a.m.
Susan Snyder's column appears Mondays, Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at [email protected] or (702) 259-4082.
WEEKEND EDITION: May 18, 2003
About six years ago, when I was a columnist for a newspaper in Ogden, Utah, I emerged from the shower at the gym one morning and was greeted by a woman who also had just stepped from a shower.
She'd had time to wrap herself in a towel. I had not. She grabbed my elbow. I grabbed my towel, and she led me into the locker room. I was dripping. She was ecstatic.
"I know you! You write that column for the paper. Come here. I want you to meet someone."
With that, she proceeded to introduce me to some woman who, when dressed, was in charge of some art thing.
I felt completely revealed and not simply because I was naked. People -- readers -- worked out where I did. They shopped where I shopped. They ate in the same restaurants as I did. There was no hiding behind sweat pants or making an anonymous point about bad service with a bad tip.
The gym incident came to mind as I read The New York Times' May 11 account of how of 27-year-old reporter Jayson Blair made up quotes, plagiarized other news accounts, lied about his whereabouts and violated every tenet about truth journalists are supposed to hold dear.
Many wonder how a reporter like that could survive five years at an industry flagship. Maybe the ship's too big and our expectations too low.
Blair and his antics wouldn't have survived five weeks at a newspaper that's the only game in town in a town of 65,000. Publish something wrong, and 50 people will call you about it -- immediately and at home.
They'll stop you in the park, confront you after church or ask you about it in the produce aisle. It's like growing up in a small town. No small misstep goes unnoticed.
I received threats of bodily harm after a particular column about snowmobiles. It wasn't a question of accuracy, but of opinion. And some folks didn't like mine. That's the nature of the beast.
But false information is not -- not for small papers and not for the likes of The New York Times, we hope.
Maybe it's a change of values. I've been at this 20 years, and never has the drive for gossipy, sordid details been stronger. Readers, and journalists, are readers too, want the gory details. It's what drives the Internet. No one is held accountable there. There is no one to call at home.
Most people care about the story relating changes to their city's master plan, as long as it consists of four paragraphs on on Page 5. But I'd bet my journalism degree that after U.S. Army Pvt. Jessica Lynch was rescued, more people were interested in whether or how she was raped than in how she fought the enemy. And they wanted to see it on Page 1.
The lines among gossip, entertainment and news have never been more blurry. Print competes with television, where a national morning news anchor and a late-night talk show comic can trade jobs.
The two jobs didn't used to be interchangeable. We didn't expect to see Walter Cronkite bucking to be Johnny Carson. Now we don't see anything wrong with it.
The truth is, truth can be boring. Sometimes there isn't a "great story" but merely a serviceable one.
A true one.
Maybe if we valued reality as much as reality TV, the Blairs of the industry would have to hit the showers.
For good.
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