Abstract
Free Speech and Unfree News: The Paradox of Press Freedom in America appears at an opportune moment in history. Published in the midst of a presidential campaign in which opinions were freely expressed regardless of whether they were fact based, the book questions whether the current conceptualization of “free press” results in an informed citizenry. Focusing almost exclusively on the newspaper industry, author Sam Lebovic examines efforts to re-conceptualize “press freedom,” moving away from publisher rights and toward a reader-based perspective. That is, an argument for a right to know—reminiscent of Alexander Meiklejohn’s belief that what is essential is not that everyone shall speak, but that everything worth saying shall be said—is omnipresent.
Lebovic is a historian at George Mason University. A native Australian, he brings an innovative perspective to the study of press freedom in America. In spite of what his book’s title might suggest, it is not law-centric. Instead, the author provides a detailed, largely chronological history of various efforts to reform the understanding of “press freedom” and to implement “news freedom” as policy. This is necessary, the author suggests, because of the dissonance between the kinds of newspapers that were central to the Founders’ defense of press freedom and the big-revenue, for-profit businesses they became.
A primary goal of this outstanding work is to examine the reasons behind the press’s failure to publish more news to better inform the people. Some of those reasons are self-imposed limitations. By the 20th century, news was a business. The quest for mass markets resulted in changes in content to appeal to as many people as possible. This largely accounts for the rise of objectivity and the standardization of political news. Any need to inform aside, publishers overwhelmingly wanted their products to sell, both to consumers and advertisers. Not all news was marketable. “A capitalist media market,” Lebovic writes, “did not straightforwardly produce democratic public opinion.”
Another set of reasons behind the press’s failure are outside its control, but tacitly welcomed by the press. This revolves around the gradual 20th century judicial acceptance of the classic liberal, laissez-faire interpretation of the First Amendment. Under this rubric, “press freedom” simply means “freedom of speech” for news organizations. By conflating the clauses, there is little, if any, distinction between them. This seems to beg the question of why the Framers would have included both speech and press clauses if each protects the same thing. Why the redundancy? Nevertheless, as these rights grew into the 21 century, newspaper publishers embraced them, and viewed them as sanctioning their decisions to include or omit whatever information they chose.
Other strategies followed, including efforts to professionalize journalism, but those were never realized and state licensing plans were soon abandoned. Professional codes of ethics were instituted, but were never more than statements of ideals. The Hutchins Commission, for example, could not develop a press freedom philosophy that reconciled the judiciary’s view of self-expression with the positive good of an informed public. In 1947, it was left to recommend nothing more than a social responsibility approach—self-regulation. Unionization through the Newspaper Guild took a different approach, with the premise that securing political and economic independence for journalists would result in better journalism. However, Lebovic writes, “With their wages, hours, and livelihood at stake, journalists quickly learned what stories and angles their bosses preferred, and which they did not.”
A third and final set of explanations of the press’s inability to adequately inform the people are those imposed from outside the industry, specifically by the government. Here, there are two phases: In one, the press is complicit in government efforts to control information. This surfaces most explicitly after World War II when departments like the Office of War Information and the Office of Censorship appeared. The latter especially represented government manipulation of its narrative given that its censorship of information was executed through the press’s voluntary self-policing. In turn, newspapers could claim patriotic social responsibility with their cooperation.
In a second phase, the government thwarted sincere efforts by the press to access information. Although protections for the right to publish without state interference grew, it became ever more difficult to access information held by the state. This era witnessed an evolution in the government’s news management—for example, formal presidential press conferences, background briefings, and leaks, both controlled and unauthorized, the latter being prosecuted by the government at ever-increasing rates. Lebovic is critical of the press for becoming so reliant on leaks. That includes emphasizing that what are generally regarded as reporting coups—for example, investigations into the Nixon era Pentagon Papers and Watergate stories—were largely dependent on information provided by government insiders.
Aside from a couple of fleeting mentions of broadcasting, the book’s only digression from the newspaper industry is the inclusion of the Internet. The problems inherent in newspapers occur in the digital world as well. In fact, they are magnified. As Lebovic notes, “An abundance of media outlets does not translate into an abundance of reporting.”
In sum, this is a thorough historical analysis that highlights the tension between an American commitment to a narrow definition of press freedom and access to, and reporting of, news that contributes to democratic self-government. It is superbly organized and very readable. Although short on possible solutions, like many good works, this one leaves readers questioning assumptions, among them, views about the proper meaning of “freedom of the press.”