Light/Breezes

Light/Breezes
SUNRISE AT DEATH VALLEY-Photo by Tom Cochrun
Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts

Saturday, May 3, 2025

World Press Freedom---celebrate it and fight for it

 


            World Press Freedom Day comes as journalism and those who do it, are increasingly endangered by authoritarian leaders, terrorists and criminal organizations, financial vultures and dangerous cultural trends.

            The United Nations is trying to raise awareness of the importance of a free press even while news deserts grow and people rely on social media as the venue for their news and information. That information is increasingly bogus and manipulated.

            Journalism is a dangerous undertaking. Since the 1990’s the Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma has advocated “ethical and thorough reporting of trauma: compassionate, professional treatment of victims and survivors by journalists; and greater awareness by media organizations of the impact of trauma coverage on both news professionals and consumers.” 

            After about a half century of my work in journalism; reporting, producing, documenting, administering and study, I am still overwhelmed by how little most people know of life, reality as we understand it, and the forces that shape the human drama. The world would know a lot less, even as meager as it is, were it not for the media.

            Spend any time in the pursuit of ethical journalism and one knows danger, pressure, makes enemies and understands the impact of threats. Most of us suffer some level of PTSD. Many of our colleagues have died in pursuit of facts, information, news the public has a right to know. I’ve come to think the public, that portion of it that participates in elections, has an obligation to know. Today most citizens fail miserably.

            The business model of journalism changes with technology and human behavior. Newspapers were once a cultural force in every community, a public square of details, information and knowledge of all sorts, not what an algorithm or your own penchant and self-selection determined.

Major broadcast media now reaches mostly older citizens and sadly was invaded by a propaganda mindset that openly lies and distorts. There is still solid and fair journalism on that scale, but it competes with declining audience, a growing ignorance among Americans, the for-profit ethos that has turned so much of the process into capturing ratings, click bait, that translates to profits, and the information corrupting outfits, Fox News being the most egregious. In the Fox case they acknowledged their own intentional deception because it meant their viewers stayed with them. To quote Jack Nicholson’s Col. Nathan R. Jessep in the film A Few Good Men “You can’t handle the truth!”

An encouraging trend is the rise of non-profit journalism. I work with a model of that in my own village. I belong to a group that is fostering the rise of local reporting around the US. 

We watch as journalists confront AI and look for ways to use it wisely.

Nordic nations are ahead of the pack on that front. The Fins in particular are working on a model that has traditional reporting, fact finding, investigative work done and submitted to the newsroom where AI then creates hundreds of thousands individual distribution streams to clients. Traditional news, parsed not in BROAD but narrow casting. It may work. Time will tell.

            I was in Brazil shortly after the military dictatorship relinquished decades of power to an elected government. So much of those first months of renewed democracy was the reopening of newspapers, and the turning on of radio stations that had been boarded and silenced by the military. People were excited about the free flow of information.

            It is not an easy job. In Havana, Istanbul, and East Berlin I was watched, or followed. I was chased out of a county in the mid-west when investigating a cult. I had two of my cars firebombed. I was bound and gagged in my own home as perpetrators looked for files I had about hazardous materials that had been illegally transported and dumped. 

            I also recall a December night in Managua I sat with reporters and US Congressmen in the home Violetta Chamorro who eventually became President of Nicaragua. Her husband, Pedro Chamorro Cardenal had been editor of La Prensa, the major newspaper. His assassination was a pivotal moment that helped fuel the Nicaragua revolution. 

On this particular night her son, who was there, was the editor and other children staffed the paper while another son was an editor of the Sandinista mouthpiece and was involved on the other side of the civil war. 

One family divided, but both sides fully engaged in journalism though as competing Sandinistas, Contras, and Journalists. 

La Prensa had been a crucial voice opposing the dictator Samoza, then opposing the Sandinista revolutionaries, the Ortega brothers, who also became dictators.

            Situations like these have played out around the globe, time after time

            Think for a moment how history may have been if there were no reporters and photographers covering the civil rights movement, when dogs were turned loose on peaceful protestors, or when they were fire hosed, or when police attacked them with clubs as they tried to cross a bridge and etc.

            You have a right to know. Today journalists are in peril covering news for you. The press is not as free as it used to be. They’ve been called enemies. History will tell you, that’s what tyrants and dictators say. They try to control what you know. Vladimir Putin, Viktor Orban, Nayib Bukele, Kim Jong Un, Xi Jinping do that. Donald Trump is doing that now. 

            The best thing any citizen can do is to be as informed as you make yourself. That means challenge your own beliefs and assumptions. Fill your mind with information. That’s what good journalists have done, historically. 

            Be grateful for journalists and for a free press. 

Monday, October 27, 2014

PHOTOS AS OIL PAINTINGS-STIRRING OLD GHOSTS

ASPIRING OILS
 Not being clever enough to know why, I've noticed that a long lens capture of people against the sea takes on what I call an "oil painting" quality or texture.
  A pixelation occurs that creates an affect as though it had been rendered by a paint brush.
   It is no doubt a technical faux pas, but I'm fond of it because it indulges my desire to oil paint.  At least it permits a "composition" to aspire to an oil.
NO VACCINE FOR PTSD
Killing the Messenger
     Before you read on, please note this is a bit like a personal confession or a public therapy. 
     The film Kill the Messenger strikes a nerve and activates a strain of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
     The story is true and it points fingers at dishonorable behavior in a dark chapter of recent American history. San Jose reporter Gary Webb put together pieces that detailed how the CIA flooded South Central LA, and other American cities, with crack cocaine to fund the contra war in Nicaragua. 
      The Reagan administration couldn't get Congressional funding to fight the Sandinistas so they sold weapons and drugs to raise the money. Remember Colonel Oliver North and that saga? 
      In Dark Alliance, Webb broke the story, then the CIA fought back and broke Webb.
       It wasn't until later the true implication of Webb's reporting was confirmed. Sadly Webb did not live to see full vindication. He was dead from two bullets to the head, supposedly a suicide. Think about that for a moment.
      This film directed by Michael Cuesta, based on Webb's book and starring Jeremy Renner hits close to home. Webb's reporting was an active element during my own investigative and documentary work. It was the source of professional conversation and workshops. 
      After first playing the Webb revelations other media like the LA Times, Washington Post, New York Times, ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN backed away and/or  turned on Webb. Media "elites" were played and manipulated by CIA spinners and deceit. The film sets the record straight and reveals duplicitous and cowardly behavior. Webb's reports and the reaction they created was something we thought a lot about back then. It is good the truth is seeing the light.
      I thought about it when I was in Nicaragua during the Contra War. But like other journalism it becomes just another episode, another old story, getting colder, being filed away in the memory bin. But Renner's portrayal awakened old memories. It is fair so called "distinguished" media enterprises are shown for their role in trashing Webb and his story. Some of the principals may even feel a sense of shame. Beyond that however, is the visceral response to the vivid depiction of the grueling challenge and emotional drain of balancing investigative reporting with family and their safety. That layer of the film hit me like a gut punch. 
       What I write here now may have no significance save to a precious few, and I hope that few, my wife, my daughters my close colleagues and their families can take a measure of why we were the way we were-our behavior, our pre-occupation, our fears. Those who put self at risk, who endured harrowing and obsessive hours, manic months, giving up pieces of lives with loved ones, did so with a belief that what we were about meant something and was important.
     We reasoned once we published or broadcast information that a legion would then care, would believe and that right or justice would ensue. The reality is something quite different. 
     Killing the Messenger plays it true. Sometimes it's like the guy who gets knocked down, and kicked in the ribs and then kicked in the face. The pursuit of an approximation of truth, of facts, of the story doesn't have a happy ending. The truth of that as revealed in the Renner film woke up old pain, heartache and self reproach. 
     As tears dried I felt a sense of grace, a gratitude for my family who braced and supported me and for the good fortune of having emerged from that life to something with hope and joy. Man, how easy it would have been to slide into deep cynicism. 
     Ben, my late friend, producer and partner in many Quixotic adventures used to say, "It's like hitting yourself in the head with a hammer. It feels good when you stop!"  We were able to stop. Some of our efforts produced change, but human kind is always up to the same old stuff and lot of what investigative reporters do has only passing effect. You learn to live with it. Some victories are short. Some never come. Webb didn't get the advantage that some of us did- to live longer lives and to take that, even if it means living with ghosts. Kill the Messenger rattles old graves.

      See you down the trail.