<h2 id="id00833" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
<h5 id="id00834">NEWS, TRUTH, AND A CONCLUSION</h5>
<p id="id00835">As we begin to make more and more exact studies of the press, much
will depend upon the hypothesis we hold. If we assume with Mr.
Sinclair, and most of his opponents, that news and truth are two words
for the same thing, we shall, I believe, arrive nowhere. We shall
prove that on this point the newspaper lied. We shall prove that on
that point Mr. Sinclair's account lied. We shall demonstrate that Mr.
Sinclair lied when he said that somebody lied, and that somebody lied
when he said Mr. Sinclair lied. We shall vent our feelings, but we
shall vent them into air.</p>
<p id="id00836">The hypothesis, which seems to me the most fertile, is that news and
truth are not the same thing, and must be clearly distinguished.
[Footnote: When I wrote <i>Liberty and the News,</i> I did not
understand this distinction clearly enough to state it, but <i>cf.</i>
p. 89 ff.] The function of news is to signalize an event, the function
of truth is to bring to light the hidden facts, to set them into
relation with each other, and make a picture of reality on which men
can act. Only at those points, where social conditions take
recognizable and measurable shape, do the body of truth and the body
of news coincide. That is a comparatively small part of the whole
field of human interest. In this sector, and only in this sector, the
tests of the news are sufficiently exact to make the charges of
perversion or suppression more than a partisan judgment. There is no
defense, no extenuation, no excuse whatever, for stating six times
that Lenin is dead, when the only information the paper possesses is a
report that he is dead from a source repeatedly shown to be
unreliable. The news, in that instance, is not "Lenin Dead" but
"Helsingfors Says Lenin is Dead." And a newspaper can be asked to take
the responsibility of not making Lenin more dead than the source of
the news is reliable; if there is one subject on which editors are
most responsible it is in their judgment of the reliability of the
source. But when it comes to dealing, for example, with stories of
what the Russian people want, no such test exists.</p>
<p id="id00837">The absence of these exact tests accounts, I think, for the character
of the profession, as no other explanation does. There is a very small
body of exact knowledge, which it requires no outstanding ability or
training to deal with. The rest is in the journalist's own discretion.
Once he departs from the region where it is definitely recorded at the
County Clerk's office that John Smith has gone into bankruptcy, all
fixed standards disappear. The story of why John Smith failed, his
human frailties, the analysis of the economic conditions on which he
was shipwrecked, all of this can be told in a hundred different ways.
There is no discipline in applied psychology, as there is a discipline
in medicine, engineering, or even law, which has authority to direct
the journalist's mind when he passes from the news to the vague realm
of truth. There are no canons to direct his own mind, and no canons
that coerce the reader's judgment or the publisher's. His version of
the truth is only his version. How can he demonstrate the truth as he
sees it? He cannot demonstrate it, any more than Mr. Sinclair Lewis
can demonstrate that he has told the whole truth about Main Street.
And the more he understands his own weaknesses, the more ready he is
to admit that where there is no objective test, his own opinion is in
some vital measure constructed out of his own stereotypes, according
to his own code, and by the urgency of his own interest. He knows that
he is seeing the world through subjective lenses. He cannot deny that
he too is, as Shelley remarked, a dome of many-colored glass which
stains the white radiance of eternity.</p>
<p id="id00838">And by this knowledge his assurance is tempered. He may have all kinds
of moral courage, and sometimes has, but he lacks that sustaining
conviction of a certain technic which finally freed the physical
sciences from theological control. It was the gradual development of
an irrefragable method that gave the physicist his intellectual
freedom as against all the powers of the world. His proofs were so
clear, his evidence so sharply superior to tradition, that he broke
away finally from all control. But the journalist has no such support
in his own conscience or in fact. The control exercised over him by
the opinions of his employers and his readers, is not the control of
truth by prejudice, but of one opinion by another opinion that it is
not demonstrably less true. Between Judge Gary's assertion that the
unions will destroy American institutions, and Mr. Gomper's assertion
that they are agencies of the rights of man, the choice has, in large
measure, to be governed by the will to believe.</p>
<p id="id00839">The task of deflating these controversies, and reducing them to a
point where they can be reported as news, is not a task which the
reporter can perform. It is possible and necessary for journalists to
bring home to people the uncertain character of the truth on which
their opinions are founded, and by criticism and agitation to prod
social science into making more usable formulations of social facts,
and to prod statesmen into establishing more visible institutions. The
press, in other words, can fight for the extension of reportable
truth. But as social truth is organized to-day, the press is not
constituted to furnish from one edition to the next the amount of
knowledge which the democratic theory of public opinion demands. This
is not due to the Brass Check, as the quality of news in radical
papers shows, but to the fact that the press deals with a society in
which the governing forces are so imperfectly recorded. The theory
that the press can itself record those forces is false. It can
normally record only what has been recorded for it by the working of
institutions. Everything else is argument and opinion, and fluctuates
with the vicissitudes, the self-consciousness, and the courage of the
human mind.</p>
<p id="id00840">If the press is not so universally wicked, nor so deeply conspiring,
as Mr. Sinclair would have us believe, it is very much more frail than
the democratic theory has as yet admitted. It is too frail to carry
the whole burden of popular sovereignty, to supply spontaneously the
truth which democrats hoped was inborn. And when we expect it to
supply such a body of truth we employ a misleading standard of
judgment. We misunderstand the limited nature of news, the illimitable
complexity of society; we overestimate our own endurance, public
spirit, and all-round competence. We suppose an appetite for
uninteresting truths which is not discovered by any honest analysis of
our own tastes.</p>
<p id="id00841">If the newspapers, then, are to be charged with the duty of
translating the whole public life of mankind, so that every adult can
arrive at an opinion on every moot topic, they fail, they are bound to
fail, in any future one can conceive they will continue to fail. It is
not possible to assume that a world, carried on by division of labor
and distribution of authority, can be governed by universal opinions
in the whole population. Unconsciously the theory sets up the single
reader as theoretically omnicompetent, and puts upon the press the
burden of accomplishing whatever representative government, industrial
organization, and diplomacy have failed to accomplish. Acting upon
everybody for thirty minutes in twenty-four hours, the press is asked
to create a mystical force called Public Opinion that will take up the
slack in public institutions. The press has often mistakenly pretended
that it could do just that. It has at great moral cost to itself,
encouraged a democracy, still bound to its original premises, to
expect newspapers to supply spontaneously for every organ of
government, for every social problem, the machinery of information
which these do not normally supply themselves. Institutions, having
failed to furnish themselves with instruments of knowledge, have
become a bundle of "problems," which the population as a whole,
reading the press as a whole, is supposed to solve.</p>
<p id="id00842">The press, in other words, has come to be regarded as an organ of
direct democracy, charged on a much wider scale, and from day to day,
with the function often attributed to the initiative, referendum, and
recall. The Court of Public Opinion, open day and night, is to lay
down the law for everything all the time. It is not workable. And when
you consider the nature of news, it is not even thinkable. For the
news, as we have seen, is precise in proportion to the precision with
which the event is recorded. Unless the event is capable of being
named, measured, given shape, made specific, it either fails to take
on the character of news, or it is subject to the accidents and
prejudices of observation.</p>
<p id="id00843">Therefore, on the whole, the quality of the news about modern society
is an index of its social organization. The better the institutions,
the more all interests concerned are formally represented, the more
issues are disentangled, the more objective criteria are introduced,
the more perfectly an affair can be presented as news. At its best the
press is a servant and guardian of institutions; at its worst it is a
means by which a few exploit social disorganization to their own ends.
In the degree to which institutions fail to function, the unscrupulous
journalist can fish in troubled waters, and the conscientious one must
gamble with uncertainties.</p>
<p id="id00844">The press is no substitute for institutions. It is like the beam of a
searchlight that moves restlessly about, bringing one episode and then
another out of darkness into vision. Men cannot do the work of the
world by this light alone. They cannot govern society by episodes,
incidents, and eruptions. It is only when they work by a steady light
of their own, that the press, when it is turned upon them, reveals a
situation intelligible enough for a popular decision. The trouble lies
deeper than the press, and so does the remedy. It lies in social
organization based on a system of analysis and record, and in all the
corollaries of that principle; in the abandonment of the theory of the
omnicompetent citizen, in the decentralization of decision, in the
coordination of decision by comparable record and analysis. If at the
centers of management there is a running audit, which makes work
intelligible to those who do it, and those who superintend it, issues
when they arise are not the mere collisions of the blind. Then, too,
the news is uncovered for the press by a system of intelligence that
is also a check upon the press.</p>
<p id="id00845">That is the radical way. For the troubles of the press, like the
troubles of representative government, be it territorial or
functional, like the troubles of industry, be it capitalist,
cooperative, or communist, go back to a common source: to the failure
of self-governing people to transcend their casual experience and
their prejudice, by inventing, creating, and organizing a machinery of
knowledge. It is because they are compelled to act without a reliable
picture of the world, that governments, schools, newspapers and
churches make such small headway against the more obvious failings of
democracy, against violent prejudice, apathy, preference for the
curious trivial as against the dull important, and the hunger for
sideshows and three legged calves. This is the primary defect of
popular government, a defect inherent in its traditions, and all its
other defects can, I believe, be traced to this one.</p>
<h2 id="id00846" style="margin-top: 4em">PART VIII</h2>
<h5 id="id00847">ORGANIZED INTELLIGENCE</h5>
<h5 id="id00848">CHAPTER XXV. THE ENTERING WEDGE
" XXVI. INTELLIGENCE WORK
" XXVII. THE APPEAL TO THE PUBLIC
" XXVIII. THE APPEAL TO REASON</h5>
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