Safeguarding Freedom of Expression

         When awarding Maria Ressa and Dmitry Muratov the Nobel Peace Prize, the Nobel Committee said their journalism, safe guarding the freedom of expression, is a precondition to democracy and lasting peace.

      From the Nobel Committee announcement:

      Free, independent and fact-based journalism serves to protect against abuse of power, lies and war propaganda. The Norwegian Nobel Committee is convinced that freedom of expression and freedom of information help to ensure an informed public. These rights are crucial prerequisites for democracy and protect against war and conflict. The award of the Nobel Peace Prize to Maria Ressa and Dmitry Muratov is intended to underscore the importance of protecting and defending these fundamental rights.

Without freedom of expression and freedom of the press, it will be difficult to successfully promote fraternity between nations, disarmament and a better world order to succeed in our time. This year’s award of the Nobel Peace Prize is therefore firmly anchored in the provisions of Alfred Nobel’s will.

            Ressa and Muratov have been abused and attacked by authorities. Colleagues have been killed. They are not alone.

       Journalists across the planet have suffered for their pursuit of facts. It is good these two, who faced down authoritarian dictators and government henchmen, are cited. Ressa and Muratov have been especially courageous. Thousands of others can a share a sense of pride as they too work against lies, authoritarianism, and abuse of human liberty and dignity. 

        A former news director I worked with took a mid career sabbatical to begin a process of visiting the old Soviet Union states to teach news gathering, editing, reporting and broadcasting. He helped to plant the seeds that now challenge Putin and the oligarchs. 

        I worked with and counseled visiting foreign journalists on investigative reporting and documentary work. I made it a point to work with those from authoritarian nations. 

        Bob Campbell and I were just a couple of the legion of American journalists who evangelized the robustness of strong reporting. It is odd and pathetic that practices of dictators and strongmen are now used by American politicians. These include attacks on the Constitution and its foundational principles. 

        The canons and codes of conduct of journalism's guiding institutions have been perverted by "news" services that in truth are propaganda mills and disinformation.

          I've been recalling an assignment to Brazil, after the first elected civilian government in 21 years. We were there after the military government relinquished power. Boarded up newspapers and radio stations were being re-opened and reborn. In the cafes and bars there was talk of democracy and the free press. America was a role model. That was before news by flavor, and all that followed the Rupert Murdoch virus.

telling stories 

        Working in the "news biz" is a ticket to a lifetime of stories, adventures and memorable people.

           It was well after 4:00 and Bob Hoover and I had the double package lead story on the news at 5:00. We had just returned to our cubicle in the police wing following an elevator ride from the Chief's office.

            Trying to block out the noise from the police scanner so I could hear the sound bites and then feed them back to the studio, I heard an unusual clacking competing with Bob's old school typing.

            I looked at him and saw that he'd pushed his dentures forward, out of his mouth and he was chipping them open and closed as he thought of his copy while typing. He was keeping a kind of rhythm. Bob had been a drummer. He was not amused at my chuckle and he kept pounding away. 

            I was punching in and out my Sony cassette recorder listening for the in and out edit points of the news actualities we had just gathered. Bob was at my elbow at our steel case desk, both of us jammed to the walls of our little cube. The emergency and police frequency speaker box was squawking above us as Bob jabbed his index fingers onto the keyboard of his 1920's era portable black Corona typewriter. Bob had been a reporter since the 20's and that old Corona, with it's uneven key strokes, had covered a lot of news. Now some 50 years later he and I were on deadline to report what was the biggest drug bust in Indianapolis history. Lots of money, drugs and weapons had been put on display as the IPD touted the victory. Bob and I were racing to pull it all together for the 5:00 news.

             Bob was a decade past normal retirement, but he could't give it up, the rush, the adrenaline rush that courses through the body as you write and edit on deadline. 

            He was always dressed to the nines and rarely took off his suit coat or sport jacket. After we had reported live and were off the air, Bob put his jacket on the back of his chair, loosened his tie, unlocked the top desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Kentucky bourbon, which he poured in our coffee mugs. Racing the clock, telling the story, getting it right produces a particular kind of thirst. 

              So does investigative reporting, covering war, murder, child abuse, public fraud, social justice actions, government, disaster, disease, politics, banking, immigration, addiction, zoning boards and the countless other places where you'll find journalists, laboring to keep you informed. 

                            So before the moon is full, raise a toast to all of the real reporters, those whose only bias is for information, facts and who go to war and all of those other places armed only with curiosity, pens, pencils, cameras, notebooks and recorders. 

                        See you down the trail.