Professionalism in newspaperology is fucking important

In recent years, it has become quite obvious that the demand for writing skills is on the rise. No employer wants to hire a Johnny Illiterate who can’t even fill out a job application without assistance. In the past, newspaperologists have been able to submit half-assed articles and reports to their superiors without fear of bring chewed out for corner-cutting, inaccuracy, or bias, but soon this may no longer be the case.

Unfortunately, the American public, which prides itself on being extremely well informed, is starting to demand more substance and less fluff. One expert with a calculator estimated that newspaper sales will decline 12% over the course of the next 4 years if newspaperologists don’t start taking more care. Industry analysts fear that this descent will mark of the end of interpersonal communication. Even more disturbing is the fact that many newspaperologists do not realize the deadly repercussions of not adhering to newspaperological codes.

But allow me to assuage your fears. After meeting with a disgruntled newspaper subscriber who allowed me Imperial access to the Random House Big Book of Journalistic No-No’s, located in an undisclosed Western library, I have compiled a small list of things a professional journalist must always keep in mind to avoid deceit and personal injury.

1. Do not display obvious bias.

In late 1996, Kevin Crandle, staff reporter with the Catskill, New York Union Herald, wrote a scathing account of the activities of suspected mob boss Guy Bartolo. In his two-column diatribe, Crandle described Bartolo as a slimy fuckup who would “violate a chimp” if it would pump an additional $15 into his “Mafia circle-jerk.” Unfortunately, a friend of Bartolo happened to own a leg-breaking service and had one of his minions hunt down Mr. Crandle and smash his kneecaps with a crowbar. It was said that you could hear the bones shattering all the way across town.

2. Never make up facts to generate interest in your story.

In June 1985, Smeltonville Post-Register reporter Tom Shell was commissioned to write a story on the failed bid for Hollywood mayor by then-successful actor Dalton Rocko. Shell, who was a recent graduate of the University of Colorado at Boulder, forgot the first rule of professional journalism. “Rocko,” Shell wrote, “stepped to the lectern and gave a moving speech in which he attributed his failure to the consumption of large quantities of the toxic chemical benzene, which he accused his opponent Mercer Queredo of pouring into his Croissandwich [apparently some sort of corporate breakfast product-- ed.].”

When news of the story reached Rocko, who had never given such a speech, and was actually incapable of repeating anything not written by pretentious Hollywood hacks, he became suitably outraged—as did incumbent mayor Queredo. The two candidates, who happened to share the same team of high-profile lawyers with pimped-out, 50th-story offices in downtown L.A., sued the fuck out of Shell, who was then spending his nights on the dirty, olive-green loveseat in the Post-Register employee lounge. So ended his dream of quietly amassing a media empire and assuming the life of a rich-ass media whore.

3. Be careful how you paraphrase

During a brief interview regarding an uncontrolled brushfire that was raging into the pristine J.P. Norton redwood forest. Darren Grand, news editor for the Transome Standard queried National Park Service ranger Melton Cheswick about the extent of the damage. Cheswick stated that “the latest Park Service report estimates that 48% of the forest has burned by now.” Grand, who was known around the office as a compulsive liar, headlined the article "Brushfire destroys half of J. P. Norton Forest."

Sadly, an elderly grandmother who happened to pick up the paper on the way to get a cup of coffee read the misstatement. “I can’t believe it,” she was heard to remark.

I could go on, but it would be unnecessary. Given that instances like these are not exceptional cases, it becomes obvious that many newspaperologists find themselves driven by hubris rather than newspaperological intuition. We can no longer accept this behavior; we as newspaperologists have been charged with the duty of thwarting any further destruction to this dying art. I will end by sharing with you a thought my former editor passed on to me when I was a plucky young newspaperologist: if you are not professional, then you are unprofessional.