Abstract
In addition to power struggles over representation, negotiations between journalists and news sources represent complex boundary problems. Journalists’ efforts at asserting autonomy and offsetting instances when they give it up all provide valuable insights into their understanding of professionalism. The state house, where political actors attempt to influence media representations every day, provides a strategic research site (Merton, 1987) for studying professionalism in source relations. This ethnographic analysis of the Albany press corps looks at professional meanings that are expressed in these negotiations. In interviews conducted for this study, journalists define and distinguish themselves from each other primarily in terms of their understandings of what dealing with source negotiations professionally means. This article introduces the concept of boundary performance to explore how news workers express journalistic professionalism symbolically in action.
Introduction
This article examines the cultural resources journalists draw from and utilize to understand, express and assert professionalism. Professionalism here is understood as the cultural givens of journalism – ‘a given symbolic system, within which and in relation to which reporters and officials go about their duties’ (Schudson, 1989: 275). The state house press serves as a case where constant and magnified expressions of professionalism are at hand: a state house assembles competitor-colleagues (Tunstall, 1971) from a range of different news organizations. As opposed to reporters in newsrooms, these journalists are in constant competitive awareness of each other, not only for stories and access but also for defining the principles of what they do. They criticize each others’ work and engage in regular discussions about how journalism is supposed to be practiced. Every news story may be evaluated publicly and serve as a yardstick for a reporter’s level of professionalism. 1 Furthermore, relationships between political actors and journalists are necessarily complex; degrees of dependency, antagonism and indifference vary across the beat, conditioned by personal sympathy, topical overlap, respective influence of politician, journalist and office or organization.
For the most part, media–source relations have been considered in terms of control over news decisions. Although dependencies between media and politics are mostly depicted as mutual (cf. Gans, 2004[1979]), journalists do become vehicles of official viewpoints (Fishman, 1980; Gitlin, 2003[1980]) and political instruments (Sigal, 1973). Reich (2006) argues that even within the reporting process of a single news story, control fluctuates between sources (at the beginning) and journalists (later on). Besides social power, other efficacies are involved that matter in source relations: Ericson et al. (1989) have emphasized that cooperative arrangements at newsbeats involve reciprocity of knowledge. Besides the significance of converging worldviews at a beat, which Ericson and others did acknowledge but not focus on, the day-to-day dealings between journalists and informants are cultural negotiations between different interpretive communities (Berkowitz and TerKeurst, 1999). Sources influence the news when their interpretive frames resonate with tacit understandings of the journalistic interpretive community (Berkowitz, 2009).
All of these studies have refined our understanding of the interpersonal, informational and cultural levels of source relations and how they affect the news. Control and relational autonomy of journalists is a common thread in these works. This article takes a different route by examining source relations in terms of cultural means and motives of autonomy, not the conditions for and consequences of autonomy or the lack thereof. No matter whether or not journalists succeed in these endeavors, it perceives these relations and power struggles as a chance to better understand journalists’ normative commitments and cultural techniques to assert them. Two research questions guide this article: How do journalists understand professionalism? How does professionalism materialize in their daily practices, particularly source relations? It draws analytically on how journalists (1) define what professionalism is and, even more importantly, what it is not, (2) perform as professionals, and (3) draw boundaries in interactions with political sources, that is, how they rhetorically establish and demarcate their sphere of professional influence towards those they cover.
Theorizing journalistic professionalism
Contemporary approaches to the study of journalistic professionalism have been reviewed in detail recently (e.g. Aldridge and Evetts, 2003; Lewis, 2012; Schudson and Anderson, 2009; Waisbord, 2013) and do not need to be reiterated in this context. This article takes a Durkheimian perspective on profession as a moral community fused by solidarity and collective identity (1992[1957]), contrary to a Weberian conception of social control, which Schudson (2001) distinguished previously in this journal. Such a community shares a cultural code that guides them in distinguishing between professional and unprofessional practices. This system of normative classification is the basis of collective representations, that is, symbolic vocabularies, which members of the group share (Durkheim, 1995).
Social order is conditioned by reinvigorating these representations through rituals of purification and pollution (Douglas, 2005[1966]). They are directed inwards as well as outwards, particularly in struggles with adjacent professions over jurisdiction (Abbott, 1988), that is, areas of professional expertise. These struggles have been theorized as boundary work (Gieryn, 1983), which also transpired in journalism studies, namely research on clashes between serious and less serious (i.e. tabloids, entertainment) forms of news (Bishop, 1999, 2004; Winch, 1997). In these studies, boundary work occurred in the news as a form of public social control of norm violation within the media field. More recently, research on journalistic boundary work focused on media transformation and ensuing internal debates over traditional and participatory models of newswork (Lewis, 2012; Robinson, 2010).
The reason why journalism is such a fruitful object for this kind of analysis is exactly because its professional boundaries are so fuzzy, and primarily manifest themselves, as Zelizer argues, in collective interpretations and discursive constructions of events (1993). At a time of economic predicament and transition and for political reporters, whose autonomy has long been questioned, this is particularly prevalent. Establishing cultural authority in a state of media crisis represents a continuous ‘social drama’ (Turner, 1974) for journalists, a symbolic struggle over their integrity and continuing relevance in the networked public sphere. Accordingly, this article is mainly concerned with one purpose of boundary work that Gieryn identified (apart from expansion and monopolization of authority), namely the protection of autonomy (1983: 791–792). It deals with political journalists’ practices of boundary maintenance to that effect and counteracting methods of boundary blurring to create sociable platforms of cooperation with political actors at the same time. I refer to this interplay of situational and selective adjustments as boundary management.
Stressing struggles over journalistic jurisdiction, commensurate with notions of journalistic fields (Benson, 1999), easily attributes boundary work to instrumental interests (influence) instead of moral and cultural motives (belief, conviction, duty). Belief in the purity of collective representations is the key for autonomy desires to arise, preceding material aspirations of influence. This conception of boundary work builds on cultural sociology, unlike its common interpretation in journalism studies. As Michelle Lamont’s comparative research demonstrates, collective representations (or what she calls cultural repertoires) condition enactments and interpretations of symbolic boundaries (1992). This perspective is attentive to the role of larger cultural structures in situational signalings of boundaries.
This article combines structures and pragmatics of boundary work through examining boundary performances. While at times drawing from Erving Goffman’s rich conceptual repertoire on situational dramas, it follows Jeffrey Alexander in emphasizing that, in order to be successful, performances need to appear as ‘motivated by and toward existential, emotional, and moral concerns’ (2004: 530). Performances accomplish these appearances through symbolic reference to collective representations. A performance asserting professional boundaries may signal affirmation of symbols of professionalism or opposition to symbols of unprofessionalism. These performances are, moreover, not entirely self-referential, as the cultural logic of journalistic professionalism is not only diluted by economic and political heteronomies (Bourdieu, 2005) but also infused by and commensurate with civic ideals. Objectivity, for instance, is more a civic than an exclusively journalistic epistemology (Schudson, 1978: 121–159).
A successful performance is ‘ritual-like’ in that participants and audience members ‘share a mutual belief in the descriptive and prescriptive validity of the communication’s symbolic contents’ (Alexander, 2004: 527). Even if meanings are used strategically in performance, mutual cultural beliefs are preconditions for them to be executed and accepted as authentic. Tuchman’s (1972) notion of ‘strategic ritual’, on the other hand, suggests that ritualistic practices are disconnected from ends, compulsively exercised and concealed by a purported ‘sacred professional knowledge’. Journalists’ commitment to this ritual, in other words, is rooted in unconsciousness. This notion of ritual is too narrow, I argue, to account for the full extent of how journalists engage and identify with the symbolic resources at their disposal. While this article can only make a small contribution in this direction, we can learn more about professional culture by acknowledging its relative autonomy and by not outright reducing it to strategy or material interests.
Finally, I strongly disagree with Winch’s argument that field research ‘cannot represent the way boundaries are actually constructed, rather how respondents would construct boundaries when prodded by researchers’ (1997: 23; my emphasis). There are no more or less ‘actual’ constructions of boundaries; they are always performative, whether in writing, action or speech. It is just as wrong to perceive reactivity merely as hindrance rather than as an asset for revealing social order. There are things to learn from subjects explaining, justifying or creating impressions of themselves exactly because we interfere in their lives (Burawoy, 1998).
Case and methods
The Legislative Correspondents Association (LCA) in Albany was founded in 1900 and is one of the oldest state house press associations in the USA. Between April 2009 and June 2011 (and an additional field stay in February 2012), I conducted semi-structured interviews with 31 reporters and four spokespeople. Two of the reporters worked as spokespeople for a while before they ‘returned from the dark side’, as they say. Though this article only deals with journalists, my assessments are also informed by these political perspectives of media–politics relations. I had frequent conversations with most journalists throughout my field research, did one or more follow-up interviews with seven reporters and have regular electronic contact with some of them.
Regarding the issues in this article, respondents talked about autonomy and the related problems of being embedded in a political setting. I prompted them to draw boundaries explicitly, for instance regarding ‘bad’ journalism, and indirectly, for example by confronting them with negative stereotypes about their job. Two reporters read an earlier draft of this article and offered comments. The interviews followed the same basic structure but became more context-sensitive over time.
I was also able to observe in situ some of the issues talked about in the interviews. The larger part of the 300 hours of observational data was gathered between Governor Andrew Cuomo’s election in the fall of 2010, and the end of his first legislative session in office in June 2011. During that time there were 34 reporters located permanently at the State Capitol Building in Albany. News organizations represented permanently include Albany Times Union, Associated Press, Bloomberg News, Buffalo News, Daily News, Gannett News Service, New York Post, New York Times, Newsday, NY1, NYS Public Radio Network and YNN. During periods of heightened public attention, for example the same-sex marriage debate, media presence doubled and maybe even tripled at times.
Besides spending a significant amount of time in the general area of the LCA, at press conferences and more casual encounters between reporters and politicians, I observed four reporters from three news organizations – two newspapers and one TV station – in close proximity, mostly in their offices on the third floor of the State Capitol Building. I spent most time with two print journalists: ‘Dash’, a reporter in his mid-twenties, and his editor, who is in his mid-forties and also fulfills reporting duties. Field stays sometimes took eight hours and longer. Field notes consist of extended descriptive notes and include hyperlinks to newspaper stories, blog items and tweets. I developed a coding matrix and used the QDA application HyperResearch to analyze the data.
Walking the tightrope between maintaining and blurring professional boundaries
Defining journalistic (un)professionalism
In defining bad journalism, journalists drew boundaries against certain representatives of their profession and incidences they consider unprofessional. Their reference point was primarily their immediate environment but also US journalism and its history more broadly. In the same breath, they identified journalistic virtues and responsibilities. In defining both professional and unprofessional journalism, they conflated reportorial conduct and the news it generates.
Besides other recurring themes, such as factual inaccuracy, unethical, unfair and lazy journalism, that is, lacking effort and reporting initiative, LCA reporters drew boundaries toward insufficient autonomy from politics. Two-thirds of respondents defined their ideals in distinction from biased and partisan journalism, either connected to journalists’ personal, ideological convictions or actual partisan allegiances. A bureau chief said: ‘If you’re an ideologue and letting that slip in, I think that’s bad journalism’ (Interview, 10 February 2011). Talking about a specific instance of bad journalism he read that day, a reporter said the story was ‘biased in a real way … in the sense of deliberately doing what you can do to help or hurt an official’ (Interview, 21 January 2011). A bureau chief for a regional paper explicates gradations of bad journalism ranging from being influenced by sources to advocating their positions: I’ve seen just bad reporting where people let their sources do too much of the work for them. So you become more of a stenographer than an actual reporter. There’s been a lot of that going on. With, obviously, the worst is taking sides; particularly, if you are on one side. (Interview, 17 May 2010)
About a third of interviewees refer to journalists becoming political instruments as bad journalism. This occurs through unattributed assaults, ‘where people … allow themselves to become weapons by using an anonymous quote that attacks one side or the other unfairly’ (Interview, 16 March 2011). It also occurs through intentional misrepresentation and distortion: ‘I think bad journalism … [is] carrying the water for somebody else … purposefully avoid talking to people that are gonna give [you] the contrary point of view’ (Interview, 8 September 2010). This bureau chief also explicitly rejected any form of give-and-take between journalist and source.
A common reference point in this regard, which reporters either identified explicitly or hinted at, is the New York Post and its veteran state editor, Fred Dicker. His weekly column, which often features exclusive stories, unattributed attacks and commentary by Dicker himself, is a must-read among political insiders. The same goes for his daily talk radio show, which features key political figures besides political commentary by Dicker and critique of competing news organizations, preferably the New York Times, AP and Albany Times Union. Some of his qualities are perceived as professional virtues, particularly his aggressive style of questioning and knowledge about state politics. However, his competitor-colleagues define him more as a political player than a journalist because of his inclination for one-sided and opinionated news stories, his endorsement of unattributed attacks and especially his close relationship with Governor Andrew Cuomo, which was often raised in interviews and discussed in news reports during the research period (cf. Byers, 2012; King, 2011; Peters, 2011; Seiler, 2012).
Interestingly, the boundary work of tabloid reporters did not differ substantively from broadsheet reporters. The latter tend to be more critical of Dicker, however, the more prestigious their organization and the more exposed they are to his attacks as a consequence. Of course, tabloid journalists presume that their news product is perceived as inferior compared to their counterparts’, at least from an academic perspective, which I represented in the interview situation. They believe, however, that what separates them is not more than nuance, that is, simpler language and less space for political coverage. As one of them said: I would say 90% of what I write – because I’m writing politics or policy stuff – you can get in the New York Times. We might write it differently; it might not be as edgy word-wise but I think it’s all the same thing. (Interview, 10 February 2011)
If reporters did not draw on immediate examples, they referred to collective representations to distinguish between good and bad journalism. In addition, I asked them about role models (journalists and news outlets) and key events in US journalism. In both instances, they mentioned events and heroic journalists that embody ideals of government watchdogs, aggressiveness and pushing back against those in power. Many are rooted in the Vietnam era, for instance Seymour Hersh’s reporting or the New York Time’s release of the Pentagon Papers. Asked about political pressure, an older reporter mentioned an instance when one of his editors defended him against complaints by a former governor. He then told me famous stories of newspaper publishers defending reporters, such as former New York Times publisher Arthur Ochs Sulzberger concerning objections by John F. Kennedy against Vietnam reporter David Halberstam, or Washington Post publisher Katharine Graham withstanding daily threats by the Nixon administration during the Watergate investigations.
Of course, Watergate was frequently mentioned, but interestingly just as often in a negative as in a positive sense because some reporters believe it is responsible for the journalistic obsession with political scandal and bringing down elected officials. Others referred to the post 9/11 era in US journalism, particularly the role of New York Times journalist Judith Miller in creating a favorable atmosphere for going to war with Iraq in 2003. One journalist who used this example thinks it is symptomatic among top players in Washington DC: I’m not blaming her for the whole war but that is one of the most fundamental conflicts of interest that good old-fashioned small-town, straight-ahead newspapers would not tolerate … You don’t want people making deals with sources that end up compromising their honesty and you don’t want people having hidden agendas or hidden relationships. (Interview, 16 March 2011)
It is not surprising that state house reporters understand criteria of professionalism and unprofessionalism mainly with respect to source relations because it is in these day-to-day interactions that professionalism materializes most clearly. Consequently, they also assign meaning to such collective representations that pertain to press–politics relations.
In interacting with sources and performing as professionals more generally, journalists do not simply imitate these representations. As Alexander emphasizes: ‘Performers make conscious and unconscious choices about the paths they wish to take and the specific set of meanings they wish to project’ (2004: 550). Journalists draw on specific symbolic vocabularies that collective representations of professionalism offer them. These choices, which are conditioned by situative demands, are conceived as the scripts guiding professional performances. Thus, they are necessarily simplifications of these representations. To give a crude example from my interviews, a reporter may not recite a historical derivation of press freedom in the USA when a Senator attempts to throw him out of a public meeting, but he may say to him: ‘Sir, you’re not protected by the United States Constitution. I am’ (Interview, 8 September 2010). The following section will show that source relations feature some performances that parade these cultural meanings and others that try to make them invisible.
The props of journalistic autonomy
While cultural performances are primarily situational enactments of meaning, they are staged in physical settings and draw from extra-situational resources. To bolster performance, journalists refer to material and normative manifestations of professionalism: they may evoke norms, laws or organizational policies that protect their autonomy. They also make sacrifices in their personal lives in order not to compromise their professional performances. These manifestations and omissions are props for acting professionally. In Alexander’s terms, they are the means of symbolic production of performance – ‘mundane material things that allow symbolic projections to be made … [and to] make vivid the invisible motives and morals they are trying to represent’ (2004: 532).
The metaphor the wall is a common manifestation of a professional norm. It signifies the separation between opinion and news in editorial and personnel terms.
2
Even though analysis and commentary expands and diversifies in US media and increasingly diffuses into news sections (Jacobs and Townsley, 2011), opinion, advocacy and partiality are consensually taboo among LCA reporters. Several bureau chiefs and state editors, however, write columns in addition to factual news. They argue that what their columns offer is analysis or insider knowledge rather than opinion, while differentiating them from their news reporting duties: I’m usually looking for a comic conceit to put on the week’s news. But that frequently involves criticism of politicians that I am going to be covering at some point on a very straight-ahead basis … I try to make sure that, whatever the argument that I’m making in the column, that it’s completely bulletproof. That, even when it’s comic and cutting, that it is a fair critique; that it is a critique that no one would argue with. (Interview, 11 May 2010)
Representing newspapers that publicize editorial positions and endorsements represents weak spots in reporters’ performance of impartiality, however. As one of them said, ‘if people like your editorial [or] if they don’t, you’re always answering for that, even though you don’t write them’ (Interview, 10 February 2011). It makes them vulnerable, which is why reporters invoke ‘the wall’ or variations of it when interacting with sources in order to distinguish themselves from their opinion-writing colleagues. A senior reporter, who does not even participate in reporter roundtable discussions on TV because he thinks this is already too close to expressing opinions (if only by rolling eyes), says: I don’t even read my newspaper’s editorials, because I don’t want to know what they think. I really want that sort of firewall up. I’ll have people come here and [say] ‘your fucking paper’s editorial said that …’ [My answer always is] ‘uhm, that’s not me. That’s a whole other department.’ (Interview, 17 May 2010)
The professional imperatives of impartiality and non-partisanship spill over into political reporters’ personal lives, setting off what Mary Douglas (2005[1966]) called a pollution drama, a set of taboos and rituals of avoidance: journalists curtail their own civil rights in avoiding any political involvement, party registration (and thereby primary elections) and even school board memberships. Dash does not vote at all in elections he covers. Next to professionalism, Hess related this inclination, which is common for Washington correspondents as well, to a lack of political beliefs among reporters (1981: 89). My research suggests that reporters engage in these rituals of avoidance to pre-emptively counter criticism by political actors, who use any seeming violation of non-partisanship as a symbolic device to question their integrity and dismiss their work. Nowadays, even a disproportion of Facebook friends on each side of the aisle may serve to undermine the appearance of impartiality.
Even though this is a familiar game, reporters take it very seriously. As Dash says, ‘the appearance of impropriety is impropriety. The appearance of bias is bias. You can be attacked, that’s the standard to which you have to hold yourself to’ (Interview, 18 May 2010). It is also common, therefore, that journalists refrain from covering certain subjects or organizations, which they have some form of personal connection to. To take a hypothetical example: if a reporter’s spouse is a cabinet member of the State University of New York (SUNY) he or she would not cover issues involving SUNY.
When politicians attack journalists for treating them unfairly or misrepresenting them, sometimes they threaten to complain to their superiors. In these situations, news organizations and editors act as physical manifestations of professional boundaries. Unless reporters commit factual errors, editors personify a defensive shield when politicians complain. A seasoned reporter confirms this: ‘In my career I’ve made a lot of people angry over the years and cost some people their jobs and I’ve never faced any pressure by anybody [within my organization] to pull back, ever’ (Interview, 23 May 2009). He explained this by the integrity of his company and the ‘aggressive tradition of free press in the US’. There was not one reporter who said to have received anything else than support in such situations. Thus, reporters encourage politicians to complain to their editors when threatened, certain of the defensive shield:
Does it happen that they go higher up the chain and complain with an editor?
Oh yeah, it’s happened a few times. My general response is: ‘Go ahead. Wanna play that game? Try it. Good luck!’ Recently I got into a shouting match with someone – it was a profanity-laced shouting match – and he said: ‘so I call your editors.’ I said: ‘Go ahead, I make my case to my editors.’ That’s been done. (Interview, 18 May 2010)
This dual boundary performance signals confidence in the professional integrity of oneself and one’s organization. However, if this intimidation strategy was really so ineffective, it leaves the question why politicians bother at all. Besides emotional indignation, they may do it to signal readiness to attack and to demoralize reporters, hoping they will pull back in the future – an effect few reporters concede. Having to justify themselves repeatedly in front of superiors may weigh them down, especially young reporters, who also seem to be confronted with threats more often than their more experienced competitor-colleagues.
Managing boundaries
Manifestations of boundaries discussed in the previous section – the wall and editorial defense shield – assist performances in interactions with sources. Beat reporters invest considerable energy in cultivating and reflecting upon source relationships. LCA correspondents may be more polite and jovial with politicians but they are also more aggressive towards them compared to general assignment reporters who descend to the State Capitol every now and then. State house reporters are aware but cannot completely evade the dangers of overembedded (Uzzi, 1997) source networks: built on lasting relationships of mutual trust, they generate a constant flow of valuable information while blocking alternative information from outside and prioritize personal obligation, sometimes at the expense of public concerns. Thus, LCA reporters refer to the State Capitol as a ‘bubble’ and ‘echo chamber’ in instances of related self-criticism.
There are variations across the press corps if and to what degree journalists socialize with sources outside of the State Capitol. The fundamental problem, particularly when correspondents have to interact with political sources every day, is to find a balance between professionalism and sociability. A senior reporter responded in a prosaic way when I asked him about this issue: I can be friendly with politicians, have fun with them, go out with them, but I can never be real friends with them. I always have to be in the position to thrive a stake through their heart if it’s necessary. And a lot of people respect that, some don’t and they will never talk to you again. (Interview, 20 March 2010)
On a similar note, another says he still feels functional when he is imaginarily capable of ruining a source’s day. To this young reporter, on the other hand, finding balance constitutes a real challenge: ‘It’s so easy to get caught in just being a human and having a human connection with somebody. It is one of the most challenging parts of the job’ (Interview, 16 April 2009). Reporters deal with the tension of closeness and distance through boundary management. One way they do this is through varying performance when dealing with sources. Assessing each situation, this may entail being ‘really hard-edged, hard-nosed, really aggressive. And sometimes it’s better to be laidback and friendly’ (Interview, 26 January 2011). Journalists make boundaries appear more or less impenetrable to create impressions of more or less professional distance in order to resist co-option or to convince the opposite to confide in them. They convey a hybrid identity: a distanced watchdog who bites if appropriate and a close confidant to entrust with sensitive information.
Political correspondents frequently inhabit and deploy the identity of close confidants in conversations with sources, which are mostly off the record. Most LCA reporters find these conversations essential to do their job and get valuable information while emphasizing how important it is to discern the opposite’s motive for sharing them. While confidentiality helps journalists anticipate developments, evaluate official on-the-record information and make better-informed news decisions, it also blurs and understates professional boundaries: ‘It’s an easy trap to fall into to talk to somebody off the record, [like:] “oh, we’re just chatting here”’ (Interview, 28 February 2012). Powers and interests of participants dissolve in conversations amongst insiders. Journalists feel ‘in the know’, which may leave marks on their interpretations of issues and lead them to assess insignificant information as important. The intension behind many of these conversations is to make media instruments for making politics and attacking opponents without being held responsible for it. Talking about Andrew Cuomo when he still was Attorney General, a reporter said: I had never seen such active leaking through law enforcement in my life. It was very political, very dirty. … [He had] long off-the-record discussions [with us]. That was just a try to relentlessly – politely but relentlessly – push your thinking in a certain direction. Or shape your interpretation of facts. And it’s become such a familiar game that it’s actually not as effective as he probably thinks it is. (Interview, 21 January 2011)
An ironic implication of the conventions of confidentiality, which is used for informational press maneuvers (Sigal, 1973), for instance anonymous attacks against opponents, is that sources are not held accountable, even if unattributed information turns out to be untrue. Reporter–source confidentiality is built on this trust. If violated, this would not only compromise this relationship but also the public’s perception of it. In public, to quote Goffman, this ‘backstage familiarity is suppressed lest the interplay of poses collapse and all the participants find themselves on the same team, as it were, with no one left to play to’ (1956: 107). Some reporters refuse to let sources go off the record; others do it conditionally. Even reporters who do use unnamed sources express reservations about the LCA’s excessive deployment of them. Since competition within the press corps is perceived as ‘fierce’ and ‘intense’, however, most reporters feel compelled to indulge in this excess in order to match contenders’ stories more than (but also) to get exclusives.
Thus, besides performance, there are also relational and informational forms of boundary management in terms of arrangements with sources and alternation between independent and imposed news decisions. One day I witnessed Dash receiving an offer to interview a top official exclusively about a particular subject, aiming at a soft human-interest story. It was an offer that neither he nor his paper could refuse. When it appeared five days later, Dash says it was ‘not the most insightful thing I’ve ever written’. He rolled his eyes when somebody brought it up and still expressed self-justifying statements weeks after the story appeared. A few weeks later Dash published a critical story about the same official. An angry letter to his editor followed, arguing the story was unfair and that Dash made sure ‘not to let the facts get in the way of his story’. The critique bounced off the editorial defense shield and Dash seemed vindicated.
Journalists also talk about ‘protecting sources’ in news decisions, which entails weighting of publishing a story, information or quote against implications of harming a relationship. In a nutshell, one reporter says, ‘I like to think of it as picking your battles … You need to report on them accurately but you don’t need to go crazy in fucking them’ (Interview, 18 May 2010). Figuratively speaking, political beat reporting often consists of small disposals to and withdrawals from the ‘favor bank’, for instance covering an insignificant event in return for a tip about personnel changes. As Dunn put it: ‘Reporters give sources “ink” to cultivate them’ (1969: 44). The expansion of news channels with little editorial control – most importantly blogs – further widens the room for maneuver for such transactions of mutual obligation.
Strategic and involuntary professionalism
When reporters confront political actors, appeasing and role distancing boundary performances run parallel in order to maintain a relationship while upholding a professional appearance. A simple example of this is the devil’s-advocate question, which means asking a question from a confrontational position while dissociating oneself from that position. One rather aggressive reporter in this regard illustrates this: The most effective questions that get politicians to respond are the most direct. And the most direct questions usually come from a bent. So, while you may not be a right-wing conservative or a left-wing liberal, you might ask a question that … on its own would sound left-wing or right-wing. I think a lot of us might even ask a question self-censored in order to maintain the appearance of objectivity. (Interview, 14 April 2010)
Besides compelling the respondent to make a case in a more pointed way, the devil’s-advocate question is a way to be aggressive without appearing partisan, which would undermine a performance of professionalism. It often occurs in press conferences when reporters preface an adversarial question by referring to a third party (e.g. ‘some would say that …’), thereby deflecting the controversial stance (Clayman and Heritage, 2002: 152–162, 213–217).
The possible harm done to relationships and reputation of professional impartiality by asking a critical question is rather insignificant. The stakes are higher, however, when reporters work on a damaging story about a political actor. Boundary performances in these situations have to be more determined in order to still appear fair: I found out that whenever you crucify somebody you look him in the eye and be fair to him, you give him a chance to say it. And they will forgive you or they will continue the relationship … you learn fairness when you have to look a guy in the eye on the next day, when you have written something about him or her. (Interview, 18 May 2010) Mostly I’ve beaten the shit out of people, but if you’re right, if it’s true and it’s fair, if you listen to them, if you’re polite and cordial and professional of all things, it doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault. (Interview, 21 January 2011)
The second reporter continues that being extroverted and well liked, going for drinks and dinners with sources means that they tend not to hold a long grudge against him after he has published a damaging story about them. Besides working for a powerful news organization, what also helps alleviate these often emotional situations is when the story itself appears professionally legitimate – that is, motivated by public relevance rather than partisanship or scandal – and when reporting itself is conducted in a fair manner. At the same time, reporters need to distance themselves personally from this inevitable and dutiful professionalism, conveying an amiable impression in order to sustain a relationship. A boundary performance in this sense involves role distancing (Goffman, 1972), signaling being forced to confront in order to superimpose assumed unprofessional intentions, be they personal sensitivities, ideological conviction or self-interest. It also averts pejorative counter-performances by political actors that impute unprofessionalism.
Mutual dependence usually suffices to sustain strained source relations. However, there can be friction for some time and what happens frequently is that spokespeople don’t return reporters’ phone calls for several weeks. In rare cases, all lines of communication are ‘cut off’ for years. Reporters, especially less experienced ones, are concerned about this, particularly if it involves one of the proverbial three men in the room: the Governor and the majority leaders of the two legislative chambers. Not having access to either of these officials constitutes competitive disadvantage. In spite of this, those who endured the hardship of being cut off loved it, as did this seasoned reporter: I think one of the best things that happened to me was when the director of communication, John McArdle for [former Senate majority leader Joe] Bruno, wrote me off. He said ‘don’t come into my office, don’t call me, blah blah blah.’ And what it did was it improved my reporting so much because … it forced me to go well beyond him, to develop a source network so that when I finally did call his press office … I already knew all the answers to all these questions. … I had reliable information about what was going on and I simply needed to get the official word from him. And then I could decide how to use that official word and determine whether it was a lie or not … It was really wonderful. (Interview, 5 May 2011)
Being denied access forced him to operate more independently and creatively and, as a consequence, advanced his performance of professionalism. Relief from external influence, even if it occurred involuntarily, resonates with journalistic principles of independence and probing, which competitor-colleagues reward with appreciation. Another senior reporter told me that a similar experience had not only added to his own professional development but also benefited his readers, which is why he suggested younger reporters should try it.
Especially for young reporters, however, denial of access may present a real problem: ‘It could be damaging to your career. I think that’s what they rely on when they say “listen, we’re gonna cut you off if you do that”’ adds the reporter quoted above (Interview, 5 May 2011). While most LCA reporters have never experienced being cut off, the fact that all are at least familiar with the threat is telling for how prevalent it is as intimidation by powerful news sources. Although the majority deny its effectiveness, experienced reporters believe it may work to pull their colleagues’ reportorial punches. At the same time, however, heroic stories of experienced reporters represent templates young reporters follow and inspire boundary performances that are less penetrable by threats of denying access:
One of the great liberations of an administration that plays really hard ball … and doesn’t give you anything: you have nothing to lose … One of the great lessons I’ve learned from [name], a colleague of mine; he was covering [former New York City mayor, Rudy] Giuliani. They, like, shut him down. He said it was the best two years of his journalistic career.
[laughs] Because he didn’t have to walk on tiptoe with him any more?
He didn’t miss anything. I try to have it both ways, personally. I try to be buddy buddy as much as I can, but I’m still gonna go out and write the story I’m all along am gonna write. And I’m not gonna do nice and take it easy on them. You just got to be a bastard pretty much. That’s part of the job. (Interview, 21 January 2011)
Conclusion
The complicated relationship between press and politics is the main reference point of political reporters to define and understand journalistic professionalism. This understanding takes shape in their own working experience but derives meaning and significance from symbols, myths and narratives of triumph and failure ingrained in their occupational tradition. Journalists draw on these collective representations when they define normative principles of their work; they also make use of this symbolic vocabulary in source relations when they perform professional boundaries to assert critical distance and autonomy. In other instances, they let these boundaries dissolve since source relations also involve confidentiality and trust between press and politics. Journalists balance these opposite requirements by performative and informational adjustments, subsumed in this article as boundary management.
Representations utilized by these reporters relate to autonomy from politics. They draw on representations of impartiality to be perceived as professional when interacting with sources. They make sure that their private lives cannot reflect badly on their professional lives in terms of political leanings and engagements. The meticulous protection of this impression also reflects in distancing from questions, which could be perceived as biased. Despite the difficulties and dangers it constitutes, they feel professionally accomplished when an official refuses to talk to them for the long term. They want to be perceived as government watchdogs rather than lapdogs. When Dash was happy about receiving a complaint from a politician shortly after the same politician has sold him a soft story, he was happy to have re-established that impression. Journalists rely on protection by their organization and use this anticipated protection as representation of indomitability in situations in which they are threatened with a complaint.
While most studies on source relations highlight their complex effects on control over news decisions, this article has nothing to say about actual realization of autonomy in that sense. Instead, the goal was to find out more about journalistic efforts to maintain autonomy in source relations and what these practices suggest about beliefs in good journalism. They might not always adhere to but they certainly want to adhere to professional ideals. In fact, the clearest manifestation of ideals may be the discomfort journalists express when they violate them. It is according to these tensions, which are culturally specific, I would argue, that news outcomes have to be assessed. The next necessary step is cross-national comparison to examine the salience and efficacy of specific cultural representations in different contexts. This article could only make a small contribution towards such a thorough exploration of journalistic culture, which still lies ahead of us.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank ‘Dash,’ Christian Fleck, Ronald Jacobs, Richard Lachmann, Brian McKernan, Elizabeth Popp Berman, Eleanor Townsley, the participants of the 2011 Spring Conference at the Center for Cultural Sociology at Yale University and three anonymous reviewers for comments on earlier versions of this paper.
Funding
This research was made possible through funds from Spectro GmbH, Vienna, Austria.
