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02-16-2006, 02:21 PM
Self-censorship versus editing
EDWARD GREENSPON
Editor-in-chief of Globe and Mail - Feb 11, 2006
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20060211.GREENSPON11/TPStory/specialComment/columnists
Let's begin with a simple argument before we start dancing, with the angels and prophets, on the head of a pin: The Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten had every right to publish the now-famous/infamous cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed.
At the same time, Muslims and anyone else who might have been offended by the depictions have the right to protest against their publication.
Freedom of expression cuts both ways: It embraces the right to give offence and the right of the offended to express themselves individually or assemble and express themselves collectively.
There is no known right, however, to attack individuals or property, no matter how grave the offence taken.
So much for the simple stuff. Now for some more difficult questions, beginning with the endless debates this week in newsrooms, classrooms and even dressing rooms over whether papers should republish these cartoons as a statement of principle.
Here at The Globe and Mail, along with the vast majority of newspapers in the Western world, the editors -- ultimately the editor-in-chief -- carefully weighed the issues and decided against republication. This was neither a unanimous judgment nor one arrived at unambiguously. It is a decision with which many in our newsroom would disagree and one with which I struggled.
Could a decision not to publish be construed as cowardice and lack of principle? Were we afraid to offend, afraid of a possible backlash? Was it a politically correct decision or simply one that was rightly respectful of the sensibilities of a minority group in this land of diversity and tolerance?
We came to the conclusion that republishing would be both gratuitous and unnecessarily provocative, especially given what we knew about how offended Muslims, not just those in the streets but those counselling calm, felt about the cartoons. It didn't seem to be a matter of publish and be damned, but more like "damn you," and publish, a course bound to generate more heat than light.
Moreover, the arguments for publishing as an act of solidarity seemed somewhat bizarre given that the editors of Jyllands-Posten had expressed regret over their own decision to publish. Why should others publish when they would no longer do so? Instead, we editorialized forcefully in favour of their right to publish and against the hypocrisy of those who live in glass houses furnished with hatred.
As one cartoonist said earlier this week, this is not a matter of self-censorship. It is a question of editing. Every day, we are faced with similar decisions, particularly in choosing photos. Do we show a naked woman? Do we show a dead baby? Do we show bodies blown apart by a suicide bomber or other samples of the carnage that come our way regularly?
Most often the answer is we do not. Only when we feel an offensive photo is absolutely necessary to the understanding of the story do we loosen our restraints. And even then, we do so in the least brutal way possible. We place the same editing restrictions on our use of language: We limit the use of profanity (albeit not sufficiently for some); we are careful not to denigrate individuals on the basis of religion, ethnicity or race. We try to restrain any urge toward sensationalism.
That said, just because most newspapers chose, in this case, against exercising our right to offend does not mean that we have surrendered that right. We will take the risk of giving offence when we deem it appropriate.
On Father's Day weekend in 2003, we offended a number of Muslim readers with a cartoon that depicted a beaming boy presenting his father with a bomb vest. We felt the drawing made a valid point about the heroic status too often accorded suicide bombers, even by family members.
I regret that some readers chose to infer that the cartoon was an attack on all ethnic Arabs. It was not, and so we respectfully rejected calls to apologize. The cartoonist intended to spark a debate. Some people took offence, but a higher purpose was served.
This newspaper has long taken an editorial position against the imposition of restrictions on a free press as contained in hate laws. We oppose state limitations on freedom of speech, preferring an open struggle, in the words of John Milton, between truth and falsehood. But that doesn't mean that we resort to hate speech to prove our point. Just as we do not need to publish this cartoon to assert our right to do so.
In coming to the same conclusion this week, Bill Keller, the top editor of The New York Times, said: "This was neither easy nor entirely satisfying, but it feels like the right thing to do."
I concur with both ends of that proposition. But we should be careful in all this soul-searching not to deflect attention from the larger lessons of the past couple of weeks. Even if the cartoons were discriminatory, even if they were hateful, even if they purposely insulted Muslims, does that justify anything beyond a return volley of expression and assembly?
A mature society debates its differences, passionately and forcefully where required, but always peacefully. It organizes demonstrations and boycotts. But resorting to intimidation and violence betrays the very liberal precepts upon which our freedoms are based. Illiberalism cannot be excused just because liberalism may have an excessive day.
The response of the mob, in some cases encouraged by illiberal states, is what's really unacceptable. The cartoons are just the sideshow.
P.S. In the spirit of illumination over heat, we offer a report today from Doug Saunders in Denmark on the struggle for identity among European Muslims. And, in Focus, Paul William Roberts profiles the life and teachings of the man at the heart of the controversy, the Prophet Mohammed.
EDWARD GREENSPON
Editor-in-chief of Globe and Mail - Feb 11, 2006
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20060211.GREENSPON11/TPStory/specialComment/columnists
Let's begin with a simple argument before we start dancing, with the angels and prophets, on the head of a pin: The Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten had every right to publish the now-famous/infamous cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed.
At the same time, Muslims and anyone else who might have been offended by the depictions have the right to protest against their publication.
Freedom of expression cuts both ways: It embraces the right to give offence and the right of the offended to express themselves individually or assemble and express themselves collectively.
There is no known right, however, to attack individuals or property, no matter how grave the offence taken.
So much for the simple stuff. Now for some more difficult questions, beginning with the endless debates this week in newsrooms, classrooms and even dressing rooms over whether papers should republish these cartoons as a statement of principle.
Here at The Globe and Mail, along with the vast majority of newspapers in the Western world, the editors -- ultimately the editor-in-chief -- carefully weighed the issues and decided against republication. This was neither a unanimous judgment nor one arrived at unambiguously. It is a decision with which many in our newsroom would disagree and one with which I struggled.
Could a decision not to publish be construed as cowardice and lack of principle? Were we afraid to offend, afraid of a possible backlash? Was it a politically correct decision or simply one that was rightly respectful of the sensibilities of a minority group in this land of diversity and tolerance?
We came to the conclusion that republishing would be both gratuitous and unnecessarily provocative, especially given what we knew about how offended Muslims, not just those in the streets but those counselling calm, felt about the cartoons. It didn't seem to be a matter of publish and be damned, but more like "damn you," and publish, a course bound to generate more heat than light.
Moreover, the arguments for publishing as an act of solidarity seemed somewhat bizarre given that the editors of Jyllands-Posten had expressed regret over their own decision to publish. Why should others publish when they would no longer do so? Instead, we editorialized forcefully in favour of their right to publish and against the hypocrisy of those who live in glass houses furnished with hatred.
As one cartoonist said earlier this week, this is not a matter of self-censorship. It is a question of editing. Every day, we are faced with similar decisions, particularly in choosing photos. Do we show a naked woman? Do we show a dead baby? Do we show bodies blown apart by a suicide bomber or other samples of the carnage that come our way regularly?
Most often the answer is we do not. Only when we feel an offensive photo is absolutely necessary to the understanding of the story do we loosen our restraints. And even then, we do so in the least brutal way possible. We place the same editing restrictions on our use of language: We limit the use of profanity (albeit not sufficiently for some); we are careful not to denigrate individuals on the basis of religion, ethnicity or race. We try to restrain any urge toward sensationalism.
That said, just because most newspapers chose, in this case, against exercising our right to offend does not mean that we have surrendered that right. We will take the risk of giving offence when we deem it appropriate.
On Father's Day weekend in 2003, we offended a number of Muslim readers with a cartoon that depicted a beaming boy presenting his father with a bomb vest. We felt the drawing made a valid point about the heroic status too often accorded suicide bombers, even by family members.
I regret that some readers chose to infer that the cartoon was an attack on all ethnic Arabs. It was not, and so we respectfully rejected calls to apologize. The cartoonist intended to spark a debate. Some people took offence, but a higher purpose was served.
This newspaper has long taken an editorial position against the imposition of restrictions on a free press as contained in hate laws. We oppose state limitations on freedom of speech, preferring an open struggle, in the words of John Milton, between truth and falsehood. But that doesn't mean that we resort to hate speech to prove our point. Just as we do not need to publish this cartoon to assert our right to do so.
In coming to the same conclusion this week, Bill Keller, the top editor of The New York Times, said: "This was neither easy nor entirely satisfying, but it feels like the right thing to do."
I concur with both ends of that proposition. But we should be careful in all this soul-searching not to deflect attention from the larger lessons of the past couple of weeks. Even if the cartoons were discriminatory, even if they were hateful, even if they purposely insulted Muslims, does that justify anything beyond a return volley of expression and assembly?
A mature society debates its differences, passionately and forcefully where required, but always peacefully. It organizes demonstrations and boycotts. But resorting to intimidation and violence betrays the very liberal precepts upon which our freedoms are based. Illiberalism cannot be excused just because liberalism may have an excessive day.
The response of the mob, in some cases encouraged by illiberal states, is what's really unacceptable. The cartoons are just the sideshow.
P.S. In the spirit of illumination over heat, we offer a report today from Doug Saunders in Denmark on the struggle for identity among European Muslims. And, in Focus, Paul William Roberts profiles the life and teachings of the man at the heart of the controversy, the Prophet Mohammed.