Behind a conflict of interest ...

Lurks a behemoth that casts a shadow over all of journalism [View this email online]( [NPR Public Editor by Poynter's Kelly McBride]( There was this moment last week when media insiders were all talking to each other on Twitter about New York Times columnist David Brooks, who is also a frequent contributor to NPR. Margaret Sullivan, the former New York Times public editor, [tweeted]( “You know what this place needs?” And that’s when we got messages on Twitter. Because the Times no longer has a public editor (the answer to Sullivan’s question), but NPR does. Below, we take a look at the implications of the Brooks controversy for NPR. Spoiler alert: There’s not a lot for NPR to do here. Because folks in the audience were curious, it seemed important to explain NPR’s relationship with Brooks and what, if anything, should be addressed. We also go a bit meta and answer a question about why we are sometimes nice. [NPR's Ethics Handbook]( From the Inbox Here are a few quotes from the Public Editor's inbox that resonated with us. You can share your questions and concerns with us through the [NPR Contact page](. What to do about David Brooks? [Multiple]( [people]( tweeted to ask what NPR was going to do about David Brooks. Quick backstory: Last week, BuzzFeed’s Craig Silverman, who worked on an ethics project at The Poynter Institute 10 years ago, connected [some dots]( that revealed a conflict of interest. Brooks was drawing a salary or stipend from The Aspen Institute to work for [Weave]( a program that encourages the development of deep, trusting relationships as an antidote to disconnection and alienation. Brooks’ involvement in Weave is a natural outgrowth of [his own experience and personal beliefs](. BuzzFeed reported that Facebook gave Aspen $250,000 in 2018 to start Weave, and then Brooks wrote about Weave’s core principles in his NYT column. There was NO transparency. Readers of the Times had no way of knowing that Brooks was also getting paid by Aspen. Transparency only works when provided ahead of time. If Brooks’ columns had carried a disclosure that he was also working for Aspen, and if Aspen had disclosed on the project’s website that Facebook was a funder, none of this would have seemed shady. So far. However, BuzzFeed started looking closely at all these connections after Brooks wrote a [blog post]( for Facebook extolling the virtues of community as a way of drawing attention to a Facebook-funded study that extolled the virtue of (surprise) Facebook groups. And that was dicey, because even if Brooks genuinely believes that Facebook groups can be the remedy for social problems, the gesture doesn’t seem as sincere when you learn after the fact that Facebook paid Aspen and Aspen paid Brooks. Several folks asked the public editor’s office to find out what NPR was going to do about [Brooks]( who regularly contributes his political analysis on All Things Considered. Throughout 2020, NPR listeners heard Brooks’ insights on 11 different occasions. We found no inappropriate promotion of Facebook in Brooks’ 2020 appearances. NPR did pay Brooks for a portion of his appearances, and found him to be a highly valuable contributor, said Gerry Holmes, managing editor for enterprise and planning. But Brooks did not have a standing contract, and even before these revelations, NPR was moving away from him in favor of other voices. “We’re going for a different mix,” Holmes said. ATC was changing the political roundtable format. Behind Brooks' and the Times' lapse is a bigger issue. Facebook is one of the richest companies on earth and is among NPR’s corporate sponsors. Those corporate sponsorships comprise 35% of NPR’s [annual budget](. Also, as one of the most powerful companies on the planet, Facebook merits journalistic scrutiny for a number of problems, from the negative impact on people's personal productivity and self-esteem to the spread of false information that threatens to destroy our ability to democratically self-govern. NPR has numerous devices designed to create transparency around sponsors like Facebook. Every time hosts and reporters mention Facebook, they mention that Facebook is a sponsor. Annual [reports]( provide a deeper look at where the money comes from, as do [explanations]( on the “about” part of the site. And finally, the code of ethics establishes expectations for all individuals who create the content that becomes NPR, including paid contributors like Brooks. In the face of this massive conflict of interest, all we have is transparency. After Brooks announced that he would no longer accept a salary for the Aspen project, the Times opted to revisit his previously published columns and post disclosures where necessary. Because Brooks never talked about the project on the air, no disclosures are necessary for NPR. Is NPR banning Brooks? No. Although there are no immediate plans to have him on the air, Holmes said he believes Brooks can still bring a valuable perspective to NPR's work. My advice: Make sure he's read the "Independence" [section of the NPR Ethics Code](. — Kelly McBride If you don’t have anything negative to say... Ron Gordon [tweeted]( at us: Why is 75% of your newsletter nothing but corporate propaganda for NPR, the 25% critical pieces always end with pro corporate explanations with no follow up or suggestions to correct? You’re not an ombudsman, you’re a propagandist. The public editor’s office exists to hold NPR accountable for its high ideals, to point out flaws in its journalism and to investigate when something goes wrong. We will be ineffective if no one at NPR listens to us. And no one will listen to us if all we do is point out what’s going wrong, when most things are going well. So in order to demonstrate that we are paying attention to the wide array of NPR’s work, we have structured the newsletter to highlight the good and the bad. We select queries that raise legitimate journalistic issues and strive to both examine and explain NPR’s journalistic choices. — Kelly McBride Scavengers? Or hungry human beings? Gabi Edwards writes: I [read this story]( and was immediately jarred by a comment in the story about police guarding dumpsters full of food in Portland, OR. “The Associated Press reports that a Portland supermarket that had been without electricity tossed perishable food into dumpsters, leading to a clash between scavengers and police.” scavengers? That’s the word chosen to describe hungry HUMANS fighting with cops for their RIGHT to retrieve food from dumpsters. It’s not illegal to dumpster dive. Cops blocking people from accessing food when there’s a global pandemic and thousands of people are unemployed? Might not be illegal but is incredibly messed up. Why not report on that? Why call these people, who deserve humane treatment, scavengers? “Scavenger” does indeed have a negative connotation and should probably not be applied to people who are gathering food that has been thrown out. For the record, this word was not selected by either NPR reporter who worked on the story, but pulled from The Associated Press. Here’s the [link to the original story]( via a newspaper website, and the line that uses the term: “A Portland supermarket threw its perishable food into dumpsters, leading to a clash between scavengers and police.” In journalism jargon, this story is a “round-up” of power outage-related stories. The focus is mainly on Texas, with small nuggets of information from Louisiana, Kentucky, Arkansas and Oregon, which comprises just two paragraphs of the story. Scott Neuman, an NPR Digital News writer/editor whose byline appears on the story, told me via email that if he could do it over, he would select a different word. “I wouldn’t presume to defend the AP’s use of the word, and in retrospect, should probably have changed it,” Neuman said. — Amaris Castillo Don’t shortchange the written word Kevin Conover writes: In [a] recent Public Editor's email, Subject: "Impeachment Edition: How’s NPR doing?", there's the following statement by Kelly McBride "NPR is radio, PBS is television." Perhaps I'm an unusual case but I don't think it's quite that simple. There are different news consumption models, I prefer reading. ... While I get a LOT of my news through NPR, it's reading, not radio. Don't discount the great news coverage that you have online, including in all of the email I get from NPR. Indeed, NPR’s work goes well beyond the radio. You are 100% correct that the stories, photos, videos, graphics and interactive databases found on NPR’s website are all excellent sources of news. In fact, this is a critical part of NPR’s strategy to broaden its reach. The ability to publish a full palette of content — audio, text, videos, graphics — on the Internet is a vital path for NPR’s audience. Different information is best consumed in different methods. Audio storytelling is incredibly [intimate and emotional](. But if you want to know how your state or county is doing on the COVID-19 [infection curve]( you really need a searchable database. And if you are trying to ingest complicated scientific information, clear concise writing and well-designed [graphics]( are helpful. Glad to know you find NPR’s writing as important as its radio. And I stand corrected. I should have said, “NPR is historically radio and PBS is historically television.” — Kelly McBride Spotlight On The Public Editor spends a lot of time examining moments where NPR fell short. Yet we also learn a lot about NPR by looking at work that we find to be compelling and excellent journalism. Here we share a line or two about the pieces where NPR shines. Influencing television [Desi Arnaz, seen in 1955]( nc/AP PLANET MONEY [How Desi Invented Television]( [Earlier this year]( Planet Money gave listeners a treat: an episode focused on the pioneering television work of Desi Arnaz. Best known onscreen for playing sitcom husband Ricky Ricardo on I Love Lucy in the 1950s, Arnaz was an architect behind the scenes, alongside Lucille Ball, his co-star and real-life wife. It’s a fascinating exploration of a pop-culture figure, and lays out how Arnaz greatly influenced the television and business worlds. — Kayla Randall Fracturing friendships [Friendship illustration]( Susan Haejin Lee for NPR NATIONAL [Young People Struggle To Keep Friends Close As Pandemic Pulls Them Apart]( If your friendships have been strained during the pandemic, you’re not alone. National Desk intern Hadia Bakkar [wrote about]( young friends struggling to remain close while their relationships have become mostly virtual during the crisis. Bakkar captures the stress, anxiety and friendship fracturing that the pandemic has caused, and it's incredibly relatable. Some friendships can rebound from this, the story notes. One pair “knew that their friendship was too important to lose.” — Kayla Randall Investigating a conspiracy theory [Stickers reading "Fck Antifa" are stuck on a broken window at the U.S. Capitol after the building was breached by rioters on Jan. 6.]( Graeme Sloan/Bloomberg via Getty Images WEEKEND EDITION SATURDAY [Antifa Didn't Storm The Capitol. Just Ask The Rioters.]( After Trump supporters stormed the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, a conspiracy theory began to emerge that some of the intruders weren't Trump supporters at all but were were instead aligned with antifa, a small, decentralized belief system on the far left. Meg Anderson, an assistant producer on NPR’s Investigations team, brought us a probe into this claim on [Weekend Edition Saturday](. In analyzing the court documents of more than 280 people charged in the Capitol riot, Anderson found that many of the rioters themselves are fighting against the claim. The 5-minute-long investigation is packed with revealing assertions from some of the rioters charged, and experts who provide needed context to understand how one group began to target another. — Amaris Castillo The Office of the Public Editor is a team. Researchers Amaris Castillo and Kayla Randall make this newsletter possible. We are still reading all of your messages on [Facebook]( [Twitter]( and [from our inbox](. As always, keep them coming. Kelly McBride NPR Public Editor Chair, [Craig Newmark Center for Ethics & Leadership at the Poynter Institute]( Kelly McBride, Public Editor Kayla Randall, NPR Amaris Castillo, Poynter Institute The Public Editor stands as a source of independent accountability. Created by NPR's board of directors, the Public Editor serves as a bridge between the newsroom and the audience, striving to both listen to the audience's concerns and explain the newsroom's work and ambitions. The office ensures NPR remains steadfast in its mission to present fair, accurate and comprehensive information in service of democracy. [Read more]( from the NPR Public Editor, [contact us]( or follow us on [Twitter](. You received this message because you're subscribed to Public Editor emails. This email was sent by National Public Radio, Inc., 1111 North Capitol Street NE, Washington, DC 20002 [Unsubscribe]( | [Privacy Policy]( [NPR logo]