They tell stories of heroes (themselves)
and of villains (their bosses). They draw their readers into
their own righteous feeling of being victims. They assume
readers’ unquestioning acceptance of their versions of the
news story they were chasing. They make blanket
condemnations of the “mainstream media” that are
contradicted directly by the evidence that many of them
continue to be gainfully employed in those media. They
castigate professional colleagues as sloppy, lazy, or
cowardly.
All of this is a great shame, a
demonstration of editorial misjudgement, as it distracts
attention from the important effort to expose how America’s
media have increasingly become captives of government, state
agency and corporate forces and of the ideology that
underpins their operations. The revision and expansion of
this collection seeks to take account of the intensification
of this long-term process by reference to 9/11 and the “war
on terror”. It does this rather unsatisfactorily, through
several rather light-weight contributions.
To “expose the myth of a free press”
requires a more grounded sense of how the press operates in
market economies generally. It also requires a more careful
presentation of the strength and characteristics of that
myth. The notion that freedom is either on or off is just
plain silly. Yet, Greg Palast finds it in himself to
announce, with emphasis: there is no freedom of the press in
Britain. That claim is based on the absence of a First
Amendment-type constitutional provision. Logically, that
means, because the United States does have the First Amendment, there is freedom of
the press in the USA. But that would rather spoil the point
of this book.
Palast undoubtedly had a tough time
getting his stories about the 2000 presidential election
into print and on to air in Britain, but, from his own
account, he appears to have fared much better there than in
America. His allegation against The Guardian newspaper, and
Europeans in general, that they somehow blamed 9/11 on
Israel is outrageous and unsupported.
Much of the material in this collection
relates to investigations that were undertaken, and
thwarted, in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s. They concern
compromising relations between government and oil industry
interests, chemical manufacturers, drugs gangs, right-wing
guerrillas and cover-ups of major scandals, including a
massacre during the Korean War, the abandonment of US
prisoners of war held in Vietnam and the possible downing of
TWA800 by a missile. Several contributions overlap, and many
are overstretched beyond the point where readers who do not
have an obsessive interest in the minutiae of media
politics, will want to go.
The investigations focus on what one
contributor calls “really dirty stuff”, the kind of stuff,
when journalists try to dig it up, quickly brings them up
against the (always present) limits of press freedom. Yet
the journalists’ accounts and the biographical notes
indicate that much of the material they sought to get out
into the public domain did eventually get there, even if not
in the form, or through the medium, that they originally
intended.
The disappointments the journalists
experienced are not without consequence, however. Since this
book was published, one contributor, Gary Webb, who
investigated corrupt relations between drugs-dealing gangs
in California and law enforcement agencies, committed
suicide. Webb’s legacy has been honoured by the publication
on the web of material that was previously suppressed. The
contribution of web publishing to changing the media
environment in ways that counter the trend this book
emphasises receives only passing reference.
Several contributors, while expressing
their own individual powerlessness, underline the actual and
potential power that journalism represents. Philip Weiss
suggests that some of his former classmates are “now more
powerful than many senators”, but he also indicates some
sympathy for the “burden” that they carry in setting the
agenda of public debate. David Hendrix considers journalism
“one step below being a minister for God”, and offers sound
advice to journalists that I will be happy to pass on to my
students.
The capacity for critical reflection that
these later contributions demonstrate contrasts with the
self-congratulation of others. It is a striking
characteristic of this book that almost all the contributors
are identified as “award-winning”, “prize-winning”, or
similar. The star system in journalism has been developed to
a far greater extent in America than elsewhere. It makes
journalists into competitive individuals more than
professional colleagues. It matches perfectly the corporate
media practices and principles which are the critical target
of this book. The enthusiastic adoption of the star system
in Into the Buzzsaw is just one of the unresolved paradoxes
at its heart.