JRN270: Essentialism in Journalism
As usual, Language Log cogently analyses one of the many disconnects between journalists and science (and math and linguistics and rhetoric and sociology and psychology and, well, you know). Mark Liberman examines the rhetoric of statistics. Among his observations:
Most people think in essentialist and non-statistical terms, as if all the members of a category were uniform copies of an invariant prototype. I suspect that most journalists think this way too, but in any case, they certainly write as if they do.
I would argue that journalists write that way because they think that way, and they think that way because they write that way. The standard discourse of news just doesn’t do a very good job of dealing with subtlety, nuance, or qualification of a sort academics favor.
(E.g. We teach them to avoid appositives and subordination–structures that indicate some ideas are more important than others or that some ideas have particular relationships to other ideas. A sentence such as the one I just wrote, or the one I am writing now, would be cut down to simple, starkly-modified declarations–ideally of 20 words or fewer.)
To boil events down into short, declarative sentences (with a limited, approved vocabulary) seems to require that one view members of a category as uniform copies of an invariant prototype–unless you want to write a whole bunch of sentences to account of numerous differences. This is what accounts for the standard journalistic dichotomy: Get both sides of the story (antagonist and protagonist). As if that were truly possible. As if the world could be so neatly divided.
I fight this kind of thinking, in some small way, every time I step into my Introduction to Journalism class. I must teach them the discourse because they cannot thrive professionally without being able to use it skillfully. But I try to situate it such that they are able to understand what it is they are doing when they use it. And I mean by that: They need to understand they are doing far more than just telling a news story, i.e. a simple communicative transaction, of a particular kind, between writer and reader.
What I want them to do is think while they write.
While I’m certainly interested in the rhetorical use of statistics by journalists (next week is the unit on math for journalists), what fascinates me even more in terms of teaching journalism is how much the narrative bias of journalistic practice disrupts the possibility that citizens will glean something useful from academic and scientific study. In other words, the inability of journalism not to tell a dramatic story means that, in cases such as Liberman discusses, citizens learn less than nothing; they are actually harmed!









