Editor & Publisher © 2000
Their motto might be, “Journalist, heal thyself!” While their job description varies, and they go by different names – ombudsman, reader representative, or public editor are common ones – their function is essentially the same: to lend an ear to readers and serve as an internal critic. Sometimes, there’s a price to pay, however, for prescribing tough medicine.
Journalists love to probe, and criticize, but are famously thin-skinned themselves, and “ombuds” are in the awkward position of having to criticize their own newspapers – which can mean taking their employers, co-workers, or former colleagues to task. “At some level, you’re viewed as a member of internal affairs of a police department,” says Mark Jurkowitz, media writer for The Boston Globe.
He experienced that tension when he was the Globe’s ombudsman from 1994 to 1997 and he blasted a controversial Globe column that questioned the Vietnam War record of U.S. Sen. John Kerry, D-Mass. “I wrote a column saying it had no business running in the paper without more evidence,” Jurkowitz recalls. His bosses didn’t question the column, but that critique and others made him unpopular with some staffers. “Without naming names, there are still people in this building who won’t talk to me,” he says.
Nevertheless, more and more American daily newspapers are turning to some form of ombudsman. The Miami Herald, the Los Angeles Times, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, and the Akron (Ohio) Beacon Journal all have added reader reps in the past year. While their numbers are still small – out of 1,489 U.S. dailies, only about 35 have them – the recent uptick has signaled a significant trend.
“The tide seems to be turning,” says John V.R. Bull, The Philadelphia Inquirer’s ombudsman of 16 years. “We suspect that the latest ASNE study showing people hate us and mistrust us has finally gotten through to editors.”
The December 1998 study by ASNE (American Society of Newspaper Editors) was among the latest bad news for newspaper credibility. The results – showing a public weary of mistakes, possible bias, and sensationalism – weren’t revelations for most editors. But they no doubt encouraged the growth of ombudsmen – or “ombuds,” as some call themselves.
In some cases, declining readership inspired a change. Like most U.S. daily newspapers, The Miami Herald was losing circulation. The Herald conducted focus groups, surveyed readers, and invited them to news meetings.
In late 1998, the paper decided that wasn’t enough, and appointed one of its seasoned editors, Barbara Gutierrez, as reader representative for the Herald (and El Nuevo Herald, its Spanish-language sister paper).
Despite the increase in ombudsmen, however, most papers don’t have them, for reasons either economic or philosophical.
Citing budget restraints, The Press-Enterprise in Riverside, Calif., eliminated its ombudsman position last November to free up more money for reporters, for example. The New York Times, on the other hand, has no ombudsman because it’s not persuaded that they improve the quality of journalism, Managing Editor Bill Keller says.
“The idea is, you want the paper to be responsive to critics. That’s what we think editors’ jobs are,” he says. “You’re sort of absolving editors of what should be their responsibility.”
‘Ombud’ sprouts in Sweden
The first ombudsman was appointed in 1809 in Sweden to handle citizens’ complaints about the government, according to the Organization of News Ombudsmen. The concept came to Japan in 1922, when the Asahi Shimbun newspaper in Tokyo established a committee to receive and investigate reader complaints.
The United States got its first newspaper ombudsman in 1967, for readers of The Courier-Journal and The Louisville Times in Kentucky. Today, there are news ombudsmen in North and South America, Europe, Asia, and the Middle East.
Many ombuds write staff memos summarizing readers’ comments as well as columns for newspaper readers. Some do outreach work, such as speaking at civic gatherings. Other duties may include handling corrections or reader services.
Because so many variables affect reader sentiment, it’s difficult to tell if having an ombudsman pays off. But many current and past ombuds have examples of cases where they’ve made a difference, however gradual.
As ombudsman at The Washington Post from 1992 to 1995, Joann Byrd saw increased appearances of blacks in feature photos after she wrote columns reporting that they tended to be underrepresented in such pictures.
She also believes that her columns pushing her newspaper to explain itself better to readers led it to seek more reader feedback.
Leonard Downie, the Post’s executive editor, agrees that Byrd had an impact on the paper on both counts.
“You make a difference just by raising issues, and, frankly, you never know how much concrete difference you make at the paper,” says Byrd, who is now editorial-page editor at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer.
The Los Angeles Times’ first reader representative, Narda Zacchino, believes her office has helped reduce the number of subscription cancellations. She started the job in March. During the last nine months of 1999, 23 subscribers canceled for editorial reasons, down from 444 in the comparable year-earlier period, she says.
“I think it’s just as easy for a subscriber to pick up the phone and call us [as] the subscriber department, and it’s more satisfying because they can rant and rave and even, in some cases, get some satisfaction,” she says.
The Hartford (Conn.) Courant’s coverage of a local gay pride parade a few years ago angered readers who thought the paper focused too much on the extremists in the crowd. Reader Representative Elissa Papirno agreed, and brought those concerns to the newsroom. “The next year, they were very conscious of doing something mainstream,” she recalls.
And at The Miami Herald, Reader Representative Gutierrez believes she helped prevent a firestorm over the paper’s coverage of the anniversary of Pearl Harbor last year by reminding editors in advance of the date’s importance to many readers. The paper ran a story and photo, and didn’t get a single complaint, she says; others, such as The Washington Post, which gave short shrift to the anniversary, weren’t so lucky.
Critiquing the critics
As Papirno observes, there remains strong sentiment that the readers’ chief “representative” should be the newspaper’s top editor, not the ombud. But she and other reader reps believe that even if editors have time to respond to all their calls, which is unlikely, they don’t have the distance and perspective that an ombudsman brings to the task.
The New York Times’ Bill Keller admits the time he spends answering readers’ mail and calls, while substantial, isn’t enough. Nevertheless, he says, having someone else do it isn’t the best solution. He questions whether ombudsmen themselves have credibility with readers, because they tend to not have decision-making powers.
“I think people know when they write to me with a complaint … they know they’re talking to someone who has the ability to fix it,” he says. Better ways to improve credibility are running corrections and having sound accuracy and fairness policies, Keller says.
Proponents counter, however, that because ombudsmen get the bulk of reader feedback, they have the luxury of stepping back, which permits them to spot patterns in errors or reader comments. Also, readers often prefer talking to someone who’s removed from the process and won’t get defensive, they say.
Papirno was skeptical when she was offered the reader rep job at The Hartford Courant, where she was then an Op-Ed page editor. She believed all editors, not just the ombud, should talk to the public. Five years into the job, she feels differently.
“You almost don’t realize how much it’s needed until you do it,” she says. “I think in the minds of the public it makes a difference to know there’s someone they can complain to.”
Beyond the public-relations benefit, she believes her work improves the paper internally. Her memos summarizing reader complaints are available to everyone at the paper, which not only gets the news staff thinking about readers, but also educates the business side about what journalists do.
The ‘ombud’: inside and out
Most ombudsmen are staff members who were longtime editors at the same paper. They generally report to the editor or publisher, and often take part in editorial meetings.
In a few cases, newspapers have hired outside ombudsman, believing greater distance allows for greater independence. At The Washington Post, each ombudsman is an independent contractor who serves a two-year term with an optional third year. He or she can’t be fired, has sole responsibility for a column he or she writes, and is barred from future employment at the Post.
“We see the ombudsman as a person who represents what readers have to say and their own views as experienced journalists,” Executive Editor Downie says.
While each model has pluses and minuses, the insider model is better, believes Bill Babcock, director of the Silha Center for the Study of Media Ethics and Law at the University of Minnesota. While the insider may be less objective about the paper, the outsider is less informed about the inner workings of the paper and at a disadvantage when trying to explain how coverage decisions or errors were made, Babcock says.
Many staff ombudsmen say while they work for their papers, there’s an understanding that they have autonomy to freely criticize them, and have had no problems exercising it.
But when they do, they risk the hostility of their peers – and often their bosses.
“I sometimes feel like the Grim Reaper walking through the newsroom, because people assume every time I come through, it’s because of an error,” says George Edmonson, public editor at The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
Zacchino came down on her company’s top executives in a column in November about the Los Angeles Times’ ill-fated profit-sharing deal with the Staples Center, which sparked a national scandal and led Publisher Kathryn M. Downing to apologize.
“It was obvious it was not going to be real comfortable,” she recalls. “Kathryn never said a word to me, but I heard she didn’t like it. I heard Mark Willes [CEO of parent Times Mirror Co.] didn’t like it. … He thought it lacked context.”
There were no repercussions, however, and Zacchino believes that’s because the people she criticized also strongly supported the creation of her job, and in her 30 years at the Times, she’s established herself as independent. She and Willes had a long talk, and parted, she believes, with a better understanding of each other’s views.
Other ombuds believe that answering to the publisher rather than the editor adds an extra cushion of protection.
Even with safeguards, The Boston Globe’s Jurkowitz says, the job is stressful, and staying too long can lead to burnout.
“I think it’s a job you don’t want to do two, three, four years, because there’s wear and tear,” he says.
And like all columnists, ombuds, who are used to putting out other people’s fires, occasionally start their own. Jack Thomas, the Globe’s current ombudsman, did it when he wrote a column slamming the worth of the paper’s funnies after readers complained about changes in its comics section. Thomas found himself on the hot seat when the column drew nearly 300 angry responses.
Same ends, different means
Some papers have used their ombudsman to target specific readership needs. Miami’s Hispanic population was surging, and when The Miami Herald decided to hire a reader rep, Barbara Gutierrez, a well-known Cuban American who is former executive editor for the Herald’s sister paper, El Nuevo Herald, was a logical choice.
“We have a very diverse population,” says Larry Olmstead, Herald managing editor. “It’s very helpful to have someone with bilingual skills in that market.”
In addition to writing columns and internal critiques, Gutierrez often meets with community groups and represents the paper at panel discussions. She believes that, in small ways, her language and cultural background help bridge a gap with readers.
And The Clarion-Ledger, a 101,632-circulation daily in Jackson, Miss., appointed Eric Stringfellow – an African American, Jackson resident, and longtime editor – as public editor in part to help solve the paper’s historical credibility problems in the black community, Executive Editor David Petty says. “It was extremely valuable that he has entrée in the minority community,” Petty says.
Stringfellow spends part of his time attending public forums and getting readers to attend meetings of both the editorial board and the reader advisory panel. But Petty says he also helped defuse criticism when the paper took some flak for its coverage of a bribery case involving a black city councilman. “People have brought him criticisms that we’ve responded to,” Petty says. “Those are extremely important things that can improve our credibility with readers.”
The diplomatic portfolio
For the typical ombudsman, however, most of the day is spent listening to readers’ complaints about story angles, helping them get letters published, passing on circulation calls, and the like.
But most ombuds can recall a day when a goof put their diplomatic skills to the ultimate test – and made an obvious case proving the benefit of having a reader representative.
For The Florida Times-Union in Jacksonville, it was a news brief that caused the trouble and, in fact, became literally a life-and-death issue.
“A few years ago, we published the address of a man who got murdered going to an ATM machine to get money to buy formula for an infant,” recalls Mike Clark, the paper’s reader advocate. The assailant was still at large, thus leaving his wife and her baby at risk. The victim’s widow called, scared for her safety and furious at the paper.
“It was stressful, because she was going through a grieving process already, and she was very critical of the paper,” Clark recalls.
At his urging, the paper ended up amending its ethics policy to include a section on crime victims and trained its staffers on the subject. Clark talked to the editors and writer about why the address was published. Perhaps most importantly, he visited the victim’s family and lent a sympathetic ear.
“If I hadn’t been there, who would’ve had time to meet with the family and talk about change?” he asks.
Joann Byrd had a similarly rough experience when The Washington Post ran a story that portrayed members of the Christian right as poor, uneducated, and easily controlled. Byrd took countless calls from angry readers over the story. “Listening helped, and there was no way to defend what the paper did,” says Byrd, who also wrote a column criticizing the paper.
And it’s not always editorial bloopers that get the phone ringing. At The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, readers were outraged when the “Home and Garden” section was removed from some editions because of a production change.
Public Editor George Edmonson was on the job less than three months when his phone started ringing off the hook with irate callers. In this case, the problem was easily fixed. Edmonson talked to the general manager, who agreed to undo the change. “The business side admitted they made a stupid move and put it back where it was,” he says.
Credibility: A paper’s stock in trade
Many hope improving credibility will translate into more readers, with advertising dollars to follow.
If that’s not enough to convince reluctant publishers, proponents argue that having an ombud can defuse potential lawsuits. They point to the 15-year-old Iowa Libel Research Project, which found that complainants who file suit usually talked to the editor or reporter of the story first, were met with defensiveness, and walked away angry about the experience.
The University of Minnesota’s Babcock points out that newspapers’ credibility is too low to not try everything, and that includes ombudsmen: “Anything we can do to enhance our credibility – you can either say, ‘We have a duty to do it,’ or, ‘We darned well better do it.’”
Time in Tunis