Woman Who Fell From the Sky - Jennifer Steil [16]
“That was a lovely definition. You are right in that by reporting something responsibly, by telling readers about the atrocities committed in Abu Ghraib and Guantánamo, we could possibly keep such things from happening again. And yes, the press is, in a way, the conscience of a people. You’ve obviously been thinking about this!” I copied a few of her comments to the board. “Thank you. What else?”
“It can help expose corruption?” This from a more sober Farouq.
“Yes, certainly! The press exists in a large sense to keep an eye on the government and let the people know what it’s doing. So we know what our officials are up to with our money.”
More men decided to join in the conversation. “The press can tell people about diseases,” said Adel, the thin, solemn man who covered health and science.
“And about car accidents,” added Qasim. Qasim wasn’t a reporter at all, but was in charge of advertising for the newspaper. He wore a pinstriped suit and tie and reeked of cologne. He looked just like the advertising guys in the New York offices of The Week (where I worked), or advertising guys anywhere, really. Qasim never stopped smiling and had a high-pitched giggle that could be heard from any corner of the building. He looked better fed than the other men, who were painfully thin.
“Good. It can also get roads repaired, schools built, and presidents elected. It can help put criminals in jail and facilitate political change,” I said. “It is a powerful tool. Which makes you powerful people. And when we are given that kind of power, we want to make sure that we use it ethically, to help people make informed decisions about their lives, their votes, and their investments.”
The other women stayed silent, but Zuhra leaned forward again. “Sorry I am so talkative but there is so much I have to ask you! Could you please tell us, what is it that makes a journalist professional?”
I didn’t have an immediate answer for her. Or rather, I had several. Professional journalists get paid? Professional journalists are accurate? “Professional journalists,” I finally said, “are objective. This means that they keep their emotions out of their stories, that they keep their opinions to themselves, and that they report every side to a story.”
“Why is that important?” Zuhra again.
“Well, because …” This was something we had taken for granted in graduate school as the crucial pillar of journalism. Wasn’t it obvious why objectivity was important? “If you just report one side of a story, your reader is not going to trust you. He will think you are pushing some sort of personal agenda. If you accuse a politician of corruption, but then you do not call the politician for his side of the story, then you have failed to report the whole story and are not using your power responsibly. Also, that politician will decide you are a bad journalist and be afraid to talk to you in the future. More importantly, objectivity is the way to get closest to the truth.”
“But how do you keep yourself from having feelings about a story?” Zuhra again, her pen poised over her notebook. Had I really worried that none of the women would speak up?
I had just begun to answer her—it’s okay to have feelings, as long as they don’t influence your work—when Theo leaped up from his chair.
“Give me my fifty dollars back,” he said.
I stared at him. “What fifty dollars?”
“You took my money yesterday.”
“No—I paid you back, remember? I changed money in the souq and gave it to you in riyals.”
“You’re lying!”
“I never lie! I’m a journalist!”
“You lie like a rug! You never gave me any riyals!”
“I cannot believe you would accuse me of such a thing! I thought we were friends!”
“Give me my money back or I’ll take it.”
“I don’t owe