Hello Downriver,
Until now, I’ve refrained from joining the fray concerning Jimmy Kimmel, Trump’s attack on the press and the obvious concerns about our Constitutional rights.
Why?
Two reasons: First, because the rest of American life is so “normal.” People get their kids off to school, go to the grocery store, gas up the car and otherwise live their lives in what some might call “ignorant bliss.”
(I don’t call it that; it’s just “life.”)
As a result, unless the attacks hit us in the pocketbook, on our favorite shows or somehow affects those otherwise mundane moments of life, they just don’t register.
But the second reason I’ve refrained thus far is because those assaults on our Constitution continue to evolve, to metastasize, to move from one focal point to another — making it difficult to decide what to rebut first.
In short, given our bleak media, justice and Constitutional landscape, I was faced with the simple question: where to start?
So I’ll start here: It was in 1974 that I got my first check for writing articles for a newspaper as a sports stringer for the old Dearborn Press (before its merger with the Guide).
My first check was for $13.25 — based on 25 cents per column inch. Published.
That happened 51 years ago, in the midst of a Watergate era from which many of us entered the industry to do good; to report the news in an unbiased way as possible, to hold government accountable to the people it was supposed to serve.
Over the next 30 years or so, I did exactly that as a report and editor — and helped emerging journalists learn the trade as a high school media teacher and journalism professor and twice as a college newspaper advisor.
Then I moved into the broader “communications” world in which I used my skills to help organizations tell their stories — while still maintaining a voice through periodic columns and essays.
Why am I giving you this personal history lesson?
Because every step of the way, I knew my country had my back; I knew that if I maintained the highest standards of journalistic integrity, the First Amendment would provide me protection against attacks from those who didn’t like what I wrote.
I knew the “states” of personhood when it came to journalism: the public official, the public figure, the limited public figure and the private individual.
And I applied those definitions to every interview, every portrayal of someone on the pages of the newspaper or, later, on the internet.
Why bother?
Because of that social contract the press has with the Constitution: we enjoy its protections if we do our jobs correctly.
This doesn’t mean flattering a buffoon or aggrandizing a megalomaniac; it means simply reporting the facts and, if appropriate, providing “fair comment” on those facts.
Yep, that’s another definition I’ve worked with for the past 40-plus years as a columnist and essayist: Fair comment is something the Supreme Court has upheld when it comes to writing things about public officials, public figures and even limited public figures.
You see, there are rules in our profession.
But there are also rules in our society: Our Constitution expressly protects the rights of a free press.
And free speech.
Which means people like Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimmel, Joe Rogan, Tucker Carlson, Charlie Kirk, John Oliver, Sean Hannity, Glenn Beck, Rachel Maddow, Ezra Klein and so many others have a Constitutionally protected right to speak their minds.
Even — and especially — if you don’t agree with a word they say or write.
Of course, there are protections against those abusing that right — if it’s in print, it’s called “libel”; if it’s spoken, it’s called “slander” — but the ultimate defense against a lawsuit is simple: the truth.
Yes, there is a nuance to that defense: if it’s an honest mistake that’s quickly corrected, then usually no foul.
Also, a case brought against a journalist or a publication or outlet must prove a “knowing or reckless disregard for the truth” in order to win. (You might know the defense against such lawsuits by the phrase “absence of malice.”)
What journalists strive to do in their reporting is to keep our personal biases out of our stories. When it comes to fair comment, as long as it’s clearly labeled as opinion, then it’s all about showing your biases.
The key is to keep the two — reporting and opinion — separate, and for the most part we’re successful.
That same Constitution also provides explicit safeguards against government overreach: you can’t just grab me off the street, imprison me or take my stuff without due process.
Which brings me to the here and now: that social contract I mentioned is now under repeated and flagrant attack by a president who clearly doesn’t accept the Constitution as the ultimate law of the land, as a document that provides Americans with fundamental rights.
He doesn’t even accept the Constitutional roles of Congress and flagrantly dismisses them at every turn — to the detriment of our nation.
And therein lies the real danger to our nation, for if we lose the ability, the right to express ourselves — on a streetcorner, on our phones, in print or on the web — our very democracy is at risk.
With the end of Richard Nixon, many of us thought — hoped — that the time of a president with an enemies lists, who weaponized the DOJ, who went to war against the media, who lied to the American people on an industrial scale was over.
But if Donald Trump has proven anything, it’s that he’s not only the embodiment of the worst of Richard Nixon on steroids, but that he’s now on a fully public attack on the U.S. Constitution.
And the American people.
Which means that now more than ever, we need BOTH a free, active and critical press AND we need those who use their voices to speak truth to power and drive the conversation about who we are.
For the Constitution protects us and our democracy ONLY if we work to protect it.
This is just part of my essay on the danger we face; to read the full essay, check out Substack.com and look for me at “Farrandipity.” It’s free. Craig Farrand is a former managing editor of The News-Herald. I can be reached at craig.substack@gmail.com.
