
Freepik
A hand covering up a microphone.
Last month I wrote about trust in the media. In a nutshell: Americans generally distrust national media, but generally trust local media. The more people are connected to their community, the more they are likely to engage with local news and trust local news. The reverse is also true. The more informed people are, the more connected and active people are in their communities.
That puts a lot of pressure on us in the news-gathering business to keep people informed. And it’s an increasingly difficult task as government officials impose new restrictions on media access. And I’m talking here about local officials as well — the ones who used to be more accessible relative to state lawmakers and those in Washington, D.C. These barriers include:
Not responding to interview requests.
Refusing to answer questions unless they are emailed.
Refusing to be interviewed and offering instead only a general statement.
Asking for “approval” of quotes from on-the-record interviews.
Responding to questions via email with instructions that the information is on “background” and can only be attributed to a spokesperson or someone’s office (i.e. “Senator Baldwin’s office.”)
Just take a look at staff writer Liam Beran’s story on the loss of noise mitigation funding for homeowners most impacted by F-35 fighter jets. Residents have not been able to get answers from their elected officials so they turned to us. As you’ll see, we did not get much of a response either. Sen. Tammy Baldwin, military officials and the head of Greater Madison Chamber of Commerce rebuffed our requests for an interview.
Sometimes it’s hard to make progress on even non-controversial local stories. Associate editor Linda Falkenstein wanted to write about the Disney Musicals in Schools program at Sennett Middle School. After speaking with two parents who helped launch the program, it took about two weeks to arrange an interview with the teacher who would be directing the musical because she was told she needed someone from the communications department to join her on the phone call with the reporter.
Was it really necessary to have a public information officer present for such questions as, “What do kids get out of theater programs?”
On April 10, Isthmus intern Ava Menkes attended a virtual meeting of the Police Civilian Oversight Board Policy & Procedure Subcommittee. At about 90 minutes in, the subcommittee discussed the Madison Police Department’s policies on cooperating with ICE.
Chair Stephanie Salgado was one of the members who thought some of the language was too vague, including the part that said the department would cooperate with ICE if an “individual is engaged in, or suspected of terrorism or espionage.” A conversation with the interim police chief was recommended.
Ava thought the committee discussion was noteworthy but wanted to clarify the concerns she heard in the meeting. She emailed the Police Civilian Oversight Board, asking to be put in touch with a subcommittee member. Office manager Chioma D.L. Njoku wrote back in an email: “Hello Ava: Your email will be forwarded to members of that subcommittee. Please note that members of the board are not obligated to speak to the press. I’ll let you know if I get any response.”
It is true that public officials are not obligated by law to speak to the press (though they are obligated under the state’s Open Records Law to provide requested documents). But they are also not prohibited from speaking to the press. I found it a defensive posture and also a curious one, given that the police monitor and civilian oversight board were created, in large part, to increase the transparency around policing in Madison and ensure accountability to the community. Also, we were asking for clarification on comments already provided in a public forum.
Independent Police Monitor Robin Copley, to her credit, called me to discuss the response sent to Ava. She says it was written as is to put reporters on notice that they might not hear back from a member of the board or a subcommittee because they might not have the answers needed to respond on behalf of those entities. “We want to let folks know that if they are trying to get answers from the board or subcommittees, the chairs are the people to talk to.”
In the late 1990s, Tag Evers wrote several in-depth stories for Isthmus as a freelance contributor. Before and after he worked as a concert promoter and in 2019 was first elected to the Madison city council. He’s my alder and, according to recent election results, a valued one, winning his fourth term in April with 85% of the vote.
I interviewed him a few times in 2019 when covering Edgewood High School’s ultimately unsuccessful attempt to host stadium night games on its athletic field. So I was surprised when I recently learned from our staff writer that Evers said he was no longer doing interviews with reporters and would only entertain questions emailed to him.
When I emailed Evers for confirmation, he disputed the characterization.
“I don’t agree that I’m no longer doing interviews,” he emailed back. “My approach of requesting three or four substantive questions and responding in a timely manner is, in my opinion, submitting to an interview, just not a verbal one.”
Evers says this process allows him to “pause and be temperate” with his remarks. “And it protects me from being misunderstood or misquoted,” he adds. “Guarding against that possibility is not due to an absence of trust, but rather my personal desire to make certain nothing is lost in the translation.”
As a former freelance journalist, Evers says he knows “firsthand the human tendency to outline a story in one’s head at the outset and then find supporting evidence, including quotes favoring the initial thesis. If I lack trust, it’s not in journalists per se, but in human beings, a recognition of human frailty and weakness.”
I do appreciate Evers’ thoughtful approach to policy discussions. But, from my journalist’s seat, there is no substitute for an actual conversation that allows for a richer exchange and follow-up questions.
Journalists are human and do make mistakes. We take notes and usually record everything but even that is not foolproof. Your notes say something happened in 2021, but somehow, someway, you type 2012 in the story. All of us — journalists as well as news consumers — need to be mindful of the human capacity for error, and the efforts that are made to root it out.
To address issues of trust, I have started to offer sources an opportunity to review their quotes before publication. This is a fact-check, not an offer of approval.
For journalists working on breaking news, this kind of re-check is often not possible. But I think it’s generally a good practice. Here’s a funny, could-have-been-not-so-funny, story from a colleague.
In reporting on a state bill on school vouchers, the reporter thought a state lawmaker had told him, “If that ends unions, so be it.” But when he read the quote back to the source, the lawmaker replied, “No! I said, ‘If that offends unions, so be it.’”
Still a good quote, but definitely a different meaning.
Offering the option of quote review seems to provide some comfort to sources, as it does to me, knowing that I am getting things right.
The goal, ultimately, is to deliver accurate and thorough information to readers. Public officials can help in that regard, or stand in the way.
At some point, community members will either have to join the fight for press access or decide, by default, they are not owed transparency by their elected officials.
[Editor's note: This article was corrected to note that it was Edgewood High School, not Edgewood College, that was attempting to install lights on its stadium.]