Amid an epic air journey extended to three days by last month’s fierce winter storm, I had time and reason to binge-watch the popular TV series “Ted Lasso.” Some of you will know that the show is nominally concerned with soccer, but really is about kindness and empathy. And in season one, episode 9, Ted has this to say when confronted with a rough patch in a relationship (imagine a Kansas twang here): “I think that if you care about someone, and you got a little love in your heart, there ain’t nothing you can’t get through together.”
Let’s start there.
Two weeks ago, The Monitor organized a reader meet-up, kindly hosted by the Boulder Community Library. “Not a fan of what we’re doing?” we asked folks. “Come tell us why.”
Someone posted on Facebook: “I hope they’re ready for an earful.” And we were. Yes, we framed this as the first in what we hope will be an ongoing series of conversations; it’s important that we hear what’s on people’s minds and learn how we could better cover this community. It’s also helpful for readers to understand how and why journalists do what we do, which from the outside can sometimes seem mysterious, at best.
But we knew that, for this meeting, there was one issue in particular that demanded honest discussion — the elephant in the room, as one attendee said. That was The Monitor’s reporting in November of an alleged assault case involving several leading members of Boulder’s business community.
Nearly 20 people joined in, on an evening filled with other civic and government meetings. I found that a little intimidating, but also a positive indicator: The fact that so many showed up indicated that they cared about Boulder and viewed The Monitor, for better or worse, as an important actor in their community.
But it was very clear that some people, including longtime subscribers, felt betrayed by our coverage of that November case. Our story, they argued, got the facts wrong. In doing so, they said, it damaged the reputations of very upstanding residents, put at risk people’s businesses and their employees’ livelihoods, and hurt their families.
I’m grateful to those who spoke out. Their criticisms touched on some crucial questions in local journalism. How do newspapers like ours choose which stories to tell, and which not to? What information do we use, or not use? And how do those decisions serve a community, or not?
I continue to stand by our decision to publish a story about the November incident; the charges were serious, and the people involved were prominent. And our coverage was accurate, in that it fairly reflected the affidavit filed in court by the County Attorney’s office, which in turn was informed by reports from the Sheriff’s Office and Montana Highway Patrol.
But that affidavit is, in the end, a prosecutorial argument: The County Attorney’s bias is to convict those who have been accused. While it included statements from the defendants, it relied heavily on claims from the men who said they had been assaulted. Whether those claims are true, or not, ultimately will be tested in court; for now, we don’t know for sure what happened.
Our article should have acknowledged that. It should have spared some of the more egregious details that came from the alleged victims’ statements; and it should have told readers that the alleged attackers were effectively prevented from sharing their side of the story with us.
All of that is important. But what really stuck with me from our meeting at the library, and what was in my head and heart as I watched “Ted Lasso,” was the reality that what The Monitor does, and doesn’t do, truly does matter.
Our reporting can help or harm the community – or do both at once. Our stories may hurt people even if we believe it’s in the community’s interest to publish them, even entirely accurate ones. That tension is real anywhere, but it seems especially poignant in a small town, where everyone knows pretty much everyone and where caring – for each other, and for the whole — drives everything.
There’s no magic formula, no playbook, for how a newspaper should reckon with that. Local news organizations live and die on this razor’s edge. But I believe that it starts with being mindful of the tension and appreciating its value. And that it’s best navigated with, dare I say it, love – the kind that engenders kindness and empathy.
I’m proud of The Monitor and of our team that works insanely hard each week to bring you thoughtful, well-reported stories that shape and inform our community, and hopefully move it forward. At the same time, we recognize that we are ever learning and growing, and that we can do better.
Just before our meet-up, I got a note from Karen Davidson, a steadfast Monitor reader who lives in Bernice. She had asked that it be read at the library, but that didn’t happen. So I’ll excerpt briefly here: “I support The Monitor,” she wrote. “They aren’t perfect, but they’re here and they’re ours.”
That pretty much cuts to the heart of things. I hope you feel the same.
Keith Hammonds is The Monitor’s publisher. Contact him at keith@boulder-monitor.com.
