Peter Beaumont finds partial truths in a BBC veteran's tale of his trade
Anyone who has been a journalist knows that whatever admiration one's efforts attract tends to be balanced by hatred and condemnation from another interested group. Ours is a Manichaean universe. This has always been the case, but what does seem to have changed recently is how visible those discontented with what is sneeringly known as the mainstream media (or 'MSM') have become.
For those on the further edges of both left and right, the MSM is usually defined as the problem. For tea partiers, we are too liberal and in hock to government, while for those who subscribe to Noam Chomsky and Edward Herman's Manufacturing Consent, we are too right wing and equally subservient to power.
So when Nick Davies's attack on the state of British journalism, Flat Earth News, was published two years ago, it plugged into a widespread sense of discontent with the MSM, which had been exacerbated by the misreporting of the run-up to the war in Iraq. While I didn't agree with everything he wrote, Davies did diagnose many of the modern media's failings and his coining of the neologism 'churnalism' seemed especially accurate.
He argued that there had once been a better era for reporting, before hacks became chained to the wheel of 24-hour news. This is an idea that John Simpson, the BBC's veteran world affairs editor, examines in Unreliable Sources. His survey of 20th-century reporting seems to confirm most of what critics of the MSM claim. From the Boer war onwards, he depicts egotistical and often unscrupulous hacks, many of them servile before power or even secretly working for it, such as the Times colonial editor, Flora Shaw, who was a go-between in the planning of the Jameson Raid of 1895-96.
When he offers 'extraordinary' exceptions, two are American – Ed Murrow and Martha Gellhorn – although he seems to forget that the latter, a friend of his, was capable of a famous fabrication, falsely placing herself at the scene of a lynching.
There are a couple of problems with this weighty volume. The first isn't confined to Simpson's book but to the broader issue of media criticism from Chomsky onwards, which has argued that journalists tend to self-regulate what they report to please authority, an assertion that has only ever been at best partially true. For what it fails to distinguish between is the degree to which journalism sets out to influence the society it operates within and the degree to which it is an inherent reflection of cultural norms and values.
Simpson, for instance, describes the media representations of the sieges of Mafeking, Ladysmith and Kimberley in the Boer war. But his assertion that 'Mafeking ensured that the mass of newspaper readers regarded the war as part of the nation's imperial adventure, rather than something questionable and potentially disastrous', while reflecting how we might see it today, ignores how contemporary readers would have felt about empire. It is a mistake he makes more than once, compounding the book's peculiarly ahistorical feel. In his conclusion, he says the media at the beginning of the 21st century are recognisably the same as those which existed at the beginning of the 20th. Is this really the case?
The second problem is related. The scale of his book, which tries to span two world wars, the end of empire, Northern Ireland, the Falklands and Kosovo, means it is difficult to marshal a cogent argument save that a lot of rum things go on in the media. Hardly a startling revelation. The drawbacks of this approach are particularly noticeable in later sections, where he is selective in presenting his material. His depiction of the Blair government's attempts to control the media over the Kosovo war, for example, is crudely stripped of explanatory context and the war is turned into a simplistic tale of gung-ho misreporting and government misdeeds.
Isn't he guilty of what he lambasts others for – misrepresentation? For if his subtext is that honest, passionate reporters have to struggle against vested interest to tell what they see, he has written out of his history an awful lot of them. In the case of Kosovo, this means the likes of Tim Judah, Anthony Loyd, the late Kurt Schork and photographers Ron Haviv and Andrew Testa. All have been edited out of history to make a better story. But that's journalists for you.
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