"Foreign correspondents have an enormous role to play in an era of so much misinformation"
Ronald E. Yates is a former award-winning foreign correspondent for the Chicago Tribune where he spent two decades covering Asia and Latin America. In 1997 he left the Tribune for The University of Illinois where he spent 13 years as a Professor of Journalism and Dean of the College of Media. Today he is an author of historical fiction novels. The books in his Finding Billy Battles Trilogy have won multiple awards, including the Goethe Grand Prize Award for Historical Fiction and “Best Book of the Year” from Chanticleer International Book Awards, as well as the New York City Big Book Award.
During your three decades as a journalist, what is the most valuable lesson you have learned?
I think being a journalist is one of the most vital occupations in the world, and being a foreign correspondent is the foremost job in journalism. I cherished the responsibility I felt in doing a decent job of reporting a story— and by that, I mean producing a story that is accurate, compelling, and as free from my personal biases as possible.
As I am sure most of the members of the Association of Foreign Press Correspondents USA, know that when your news organization designates you a foreign correspondent it is telling you that it has tremendous confidence in your abilities as a reporter and writer. Your editors or producers are telling you that you are a self-starter who has a sharp eye for a story and most important, can get that story quickly, report it accurately, and then produce a compelling report.
In most cases, you have proven yourself as a versatile reporter who can cover any kind of story—crime, politics, economic and business, features, even obits, which you will have to produce when some major international figure on your beat passes away.
The most important thing I learned during my career is responsibility. Journalists have a responsibility to the public at large to report completely and accurately. I took that obligation seriously during my career. I never wanted anybody—a reader or an editor—to ever accuse me of shoddy or inaccurate reporting. My credibility was important to me. When a journalist loses that (as many have) he or she might as well find another occupation because once credibility is lost a reporter is an empty vessel.
As a war correspondent, you received several awards. What was the most memorable moment: the moment you receive an award, or the experiences you built on the way to receiving it?
I didn’t become a journalist to win awards. If anything, they are a marginal by-product of exceptional reporting and writing—something for which all journalists should aspire. Having said that, awards do provide a welcome validation of your work, but they should never be the raison d'être for doing the job.
I don’t think I ever covered a story because I felt doing so would result in a Pulitzer Prize or any other journalism award. During my career, I have won my share of journalism awards. I never won a Pulitzer, although the Tribune nominated me a few times. Someone who was on the Pulitzer jury (I won’t say who) once told me one year that I finished second in the voting for my international reporting. I thought to myself: “Well, that’s good enough for me.” I still feel that way.
Now that I have been away from active journalism for a while, I sometimes look at a few of the stories I covered and wrote and find myself saying: “That story stands the test of time: it’s accurate and it still reads well.” If journalists can do that after they have hung up their trench coats and press cards, I suppose that is the ultimate reward.
You have dedicated a lot of time and energy to writing. "Aboard the Tokyo Express: A Foreign Correspondent's Journey through Japan, published in Japanese", is one of your books. There are also three journalism textbooks: The Journalist's Handbook, International Reporting, and Foreign Correspondents, and Business and Financial Reporting in a Global Economy, published in English. Are there any lessons that your books can impart to journalists and correspondents in the younger generations?
Since writing those books, I have written four more. “The Kikkoman Chronicles” is a corporate biography of Japan’s Kikkoman Corp.—quite possibly the oldest continuously operated family company in Japanese history, founded in 1630.
Since leaving the University of Illinois in 2010, I have turned to fiction and have written three books as part of the “Finding Billy Battles Trilogy” I am proud to say the books have won several fiction awards. The trilogy recounts the life of a man born in 1860 and who dies in 1960. In between he lives a life filled with adventure, tragedy, and peril. The trilogy is what I call “faction,” because the narrative combines both fact and fiction. FYI: here is the Amazon link: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001KHDVZI/-/e/B00KQAYMA8/
Now, to the textbooks. The Journalist’s Handbook is not a textbook, nor was it ever intended to be. I don’t believe you can teach people to be journalists from a textbook—though you can certainly learn about journalism by reading one. You might also learn something about reporting, editing and even writing. In the end, however, you learn journalism by doing it and by reading and imitating other journalists. Notice I said “reading” and “imitating” other journalists—not copying or plagiarizing their stories.
As a journalist you must find your own voice; your own style; your own place in the journalistic dominion. It is a journey of discovery that never ends. The objective of this handbook is to assist you in the beginning that journey; to make sure you are equipped with the tools you will need to chart a successful course. What the handbook is intended to do is to provide students with a solid foundation of journalistic principles and technique.
It has been said that journalism is both an "art" and a "craft." Others have said that you can't teach people to write, that it must be learned. That is only partially correct.
While no one can teach "talent," as in any art, we can teach technique. That's what you will find in the Handbook--the techniques of reporting and writing. Talent is an intrinsic quality and each of us must develop it in our own way.
The "art" of journalism refers to the journalist's innate ability to use the language with respect and affection; the journalist's capacity to be sensitive to what is going on around him or her; a facility to recognize what is important or interesting and to present it in a compelling way; the commitment to adhere to the journalistic principles of fairness and honesty. This handbook is designed to introduce you to the tools and the techniques of the "art." How you choose to use those tools and techniques will be determined by how resolute and talented you are.
The "craft" of journalism, however, as with any other craft, can be transferred from the professional to the novice. Journalism schools like Illinois can teach students to recognize the tools of the craft, to understand how to use those tools and to respect them. While we cannot teach you to be a brilliant writer, we hope to introduce you to the enchantment and wonder of words and to the profound responsibility that comes with using their awesome power. Once you understand and respect those tools your brilliance as a writer and reporter will be limited only by your intrinsic talent.
What is your take on the current landscape in modern journalism, and the spread of digital information - or misinformation - via social media and online technologies?
Journalism as many have known and practiced it for decades is undergoing enormous changes today. Innovative technologies, the internet, the corporate bottom line, changing demographics and habits of readers, viewers and listeners are all conspiring (unwittingly perhaps) to transfigure the journalistic landscape. For those who toiled in this world for decades (such as yours truly) this new landscape is at the same time troubling and exciting.
Newsrooms today are in many ways a strange and barely recognizable world for many. Technology has changed the way reporters and editors do their jobs. Journalism’s relationship with the public is also shifting as new definitions of what news is are adopted and an aggressive bottom-line orientation driven by Wall Street forces cutbacks. Some believe these changes threaten the core principles that define journalism's role in a democratic society. Faced with splintering audiences and information overload, news media companies that are at once diversifying, merging, and confronted by unimaginable complexity, many journalists have begun to doubt themselves and the meaning of their profession.
Given the kind of journalism I see practiced today, I am not optimistic about the future of the news business. Those of us who worked in newsrooms for more than a few years (for me it’s almost 30) have learned a hard truth in the past decade or so: There has been a palpable shifting of the lines between what we learned journalism ideally should be and what it has become.
Coming as I did as a neophyte into the cavernous newsroom of the Chicago Tribune back in 1970 right out of college, I had editors who made sure that I didn’t stray from accurate, evenhanded, and unbiased reporting into opinion and rumor. When I did, I heard about it from some crabby City Editor who was quick to point out the difference between news and opinion.
An even worse sin at the Tribune was the sin of omission. That occurred if you took it upon yourself NOT to report something because doing so might not coincide with YOUR interpretation of the event or your political predilection. When I was learning how to be a reporter we were exhorted to strive for objectivity in our reporting. Of course, we knew there was no such thing as a purely objective reporter. All of us have biases and are more than likely predisposed to have prejudices one way or the other in dealing with events, sources, issues, etc.
What dismays me today is that with the enormous influence of social media and cable news shows on both sides of the political spectrum that purport to report stories unbiasedly, the viewing public has trouble discerning between news and opinion. The strict separation between news and opinion is simply vanishing. Too many news anchors today feel it is their duty and prerogative to sprinkle their opinions throughout every story. I have heard journalists today insist that stories need interpretation and that reporters need to adapt to the “realities of 21st Century journalism.”
There is nothing wrong with interpreting the news, but that doesn’t mean that the realities of 21st Century journalism are any different from those of 20th Century journalism. Superior journalism needs to be a watchdog on government and elected officials, and it needs to be as objective and impartial as possible. There is nothing wrong with explanatory journalism, but there should be no doubt where news ends, and opinion begins.
Too many reporters today believe that advocating for some cause or viewpoint they agree with, or support is equivalent to interpreting the news. It is not. Journalists are not advocates and they should never fall into that trap. If they do, they will cease being reporters and morph into propagandists. When that happens, then we will have written the final obituary for trustworthy journalism as it was once practiced.
Can you share some of the hardest moments in your career in journalism that taught you lessons that you can share with us?
The most difficult moments in my career came when I was covering stories that I found myself being a part of. For example, during the fall of Saigon on April 29, 1975, I was not only observing and reporting the story, but I was also part of the story. For most of the day I and several other correspondents scurried all over Saigon looking for evacuation choppers. Thousands of terrified Vietnamese surrounded the U.S. Embassy looking for a way out and I wasn’t about to climb over their backs in order to gain entry to the embassy compound.
I, and several other reporters, finally found a U.S. military bus driven by a Marine. We scrambled aboard and found our way to Saigon’s Tan Son Nhut airport where we were eventually evacuated by U.S. Marine chopper from the hulking Defense Attaché Building-otherwise known as “Pentagon East.”
Another story that I found myself thrust into was the Tiananmen Square massacre in Beijing in 1989. I was there when the CCP sent tanks and troops storming into the square and opened fire indiscriminately on thousands of students and demonstrators.
As a journalist I was there to cover the story—and I did. But I also found myself helping wounded demonstrators, getting them away from the slaughter that was taking place in and around the square. So, in that case, I became a participant in the story I was covering. That experience taught me that sometimes, especially when lives are at stake, reporters cannot be purely impartial observers. We are human beings.
Today, I am often appalled when I see people holding up their cell phones and video-taping individuals who are caught in some disaster or some life-threatening event, rather than coming to their aid. It is a choice each of us must make. Are we going to be detached and indifferent observers hiding behind our technology? Or are we going to help those in perilous or life-threatening situations? I have always believed you can do both and that’s the way I pursued my career—especially as a foreign correspondent covering war and mayhem.
Having said all of that, journalists should not seek to be part of the stories they are covering unless they find themselves inadvertently ensnared in the middle of a life-or-death situation. Those who cover war and conflict, as I have, will no doubt be faced with that choice more than a few times in their careers. I suspect a few of your members have been.
At the University of Illinois, you were a Professor of Journalism and Dean of the College of Media. What are the things you taught your students they needed to know before entering the field of journalism professionally?
A few years ago a column in USA Today suggested that journalism schools such as New York's venerable Columbia University should simply shut their doors because they have become irrelevant given today's deluge of Internet information and new digital delivery platforms.
Allow me to put on my Dean's attire for a moment. In the University of Illinois' College of Media, where I toiled six years as Journalism Department Head and seven years as Dean, the objective was to turn out students who had learned, if not fully mastered, the basic fundamentals of journalism—clear and concise writing, editing, producing compelling packages (for our broadcast majors) and, of course, good story-telling that kept readers, viewers and listeners engaged.
I think teaching those fundamentals, with the understanding, of course, that one hones and tempers those skills in the competitive heat of the professional world, is a basic requirement of any journalism program—be it a school, college, department or simply a collection of courses.
Beyond that, however, it is absolutely critical that journalism students have a broad education in areas such as economics, history, political and social sciences, international studies, business/economics, law and even languages. We encouraged our students to specialize in at least one of these areas.
We taught students at Illinois how to use the modern technologies, but they were not short-changed on the fundamentals and responsibilities that are so important for journalism students to learn and embrace. I often told students that journalism is not about the journalist; it is about the people the journalist is responsible to. When journalists begin to believe they are more important than the story, then they have lost their way and forsaken those responsibilities.
Journalists and the organizations they work for need the trust of readers, viewers, listeners, twitter followers, web surfers, etc. They must earn that trust by being consistently accurate in their reporting and by producing stories that are "fair and balanced," to use a worn-out phrase.
Sadly, it seems that too many journalists (or those who like to call themselves journalists) have forgotten that and as a result, the public trust that we once took for granted is eroding. Newspapers are losing traditional readers, and while some are finding new readers via their online and mobile device editions, advertising revenues are not keeping up. News organizations, in the end, are businesses. If they don't make a profit they can't remain in business. That means fewer traditional journalism jobs.
At the same time, the skill sets demanded by news organizations have grown immensely. Journalists today must master a much more complex array of technologies than when I began back in the Stone Age. They must know how to shoot video, blog, tweet, do live stand-ups, etc. By contrast, in addition to pounding away on a 10-pound Underwood typewriter (a what?), when I was first sent abroad as a correspondent, I prided myself on knowing how to use a telex machine (a what?).
I didn’t begin using a computer until about 1985 when the Tribune outfitted me with a Radio Shack TRS 80 Model 100 Tandy portable computer. It had a three-inch liquid crystal display that showed about eight lines of typed copy. It could run about 16 hours on 4 AA batteries and mine had a whopping 32K of RAM. I was convinced this was the pinnacle of reportorial technology. And it was at the time.
Do you think US-based foreign correspondents have a vital role to play?
Foreign correspondents based in the U.S. have an enormous role to play—especially today when there is so much misinformation about the United States. Think about the millions of people who want to emigrate to the U.S. because they are mistakenly convinced its streets are not only paved with gold, but they can get rich, accumulate luxurious goods, and live in opulent palaces.
There are a lot of myths about the United States that have persisted since the 19th century, and many are still being perpetuated even today in the 21st century. I’m sure your members have heard a lot about “The American Dream.” What is it? Well, it’s a big tent and it’s rooted in the Declaration of Independence of 1776. And in that big tent you have four basic promises: equal protection under the law, equal opportunity, equal access, and the right to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
I’m not sure it’s fair to call the American Dream a myth, but it has certainly been a powerful magnet for the rest of the world’s oppressed and poor people. America has always been a nation of immigrants, but the myths of instant wealth, equality, etc. are often shattered by the harsh realities of life in this country. Yes, there is a possibility you can become rich if you work hard, have talent, and ingenuity. A little luck doesn’t hurt either.
So, I guess one role US-based correspondents must play is that of providing an accurate picture of the United States to their readers, viewers, and listeners. That's an arduous task because the U.S. is a complex place comprised of many regions that differ from one another in significant ways.
If there is one criticism I perceived when I was living abroad and read what foreign correspondents were reporting about the United States, it was this: too many correspondents cover the country from the coasts and not from the heartland. It is easy to be seduced by the power centers of Washington D.C., New York, Los Angeles, etc. because those are places that most foreign correspondents live.
When I was covering Japan, I found myself writing about the country from the perspective of Tokyo, which is where I lived. When I got out of Tokyo and went to places like Osaka, Kyushu, Hokkaido, and Shikoku, I discovered a different Japan where people viewed their nation and lives much differently from the 37 million or so souls who lived in the greater Tokyo metropolitan area.
I recommend that correspondents covering the U.S. spend more time in the heartland and less inside the swampy Washington beltway.
What is the message you would like to share with the community of foreign journalists in the United States?
I hope the journalists who belong to the Association of Foreign Press Correspondents USA understand how important and critical their work is.
Since I have been away from the business for several years, I have been able to take a more detached and impartial look at journalism. While I was in it, I was, like many reporters and editors, pretty defensive about what we did. But now I am able to see some of the warts and blemishes that many readers, listeners, and viewers see.
There are several concerns that I often hear from the consumers of news in our society today. One is dwindling trust in journalism. The other is the arrogance and condescension of some journalists.
If you lose the trust of your readers, viewers, or listeners, you lose everything. Trust is the bedrock of journalism. Without it, journalism is an empty exercise. I saw that in countries I covered that didn’t have a free press. The people in these countries had no trust in their newspapers and broadcast news because of government control or manipulation of the media. They knew that what was printed or reported on-air were mostly lies, omissions, or gross distortions of the truth.
Sadly, I fear many Americans —many of you in your organization— feel the same way these days about the American press. In America, we have a free press of course, but we still need the trust of our readers and viewers. Without it, we may as well print fiction. Sadly, that is happening all too often these days.
The press must be held morally accountable to itself and to the society it serves. It is important for the press to reveal to the public what it does and why—and when necessary, to admit its mistakes. That is the ethical thing to do.
Ethics is something that is personally determined and personally enforced. An ethics statement can provide a journalist with certain guidelines or standards of behavior by which the journalist can judge whether his or her actions are right, wrong, responsible, or irresponsible. In the end, however, ethics deals with a person’s voluntary actions.
What are those? These are things that a journalist could have done differently had he or she wished to.
If Columbia University and other journalism programs shut their doors forever because "media experts" keep writing obituaries for the news business, I wonder from where tomorrow's journalists will originate.
Will they be the "information entrepreneurs" that so many 21st-century media mavens are so fond of—pseudo-journalists who have neither heard of the Society of Professional Journalists nor the principles and ethics of journalism it stands behind and promotes?
Will they be an army of self-absorbed bloggers who have abandoned the practice of fair and accurate reporting in favor of their own un-vetted and idiosyncratic propaganda?
Or will society simply abandon the idea of privately-owned news organizations in favor of government-run websites and blogs without the traditional watchdog function that the Fourth Estate has traditionally provided?
None of these is a world in which any of us should feel comfortable living or practicing journalism.
Thank you for this opportunity to share with you some of my views about journalism and those professionals who practice it.