Why we do what we do

S.J. CAHN

This is a column I shouldn’t be writing.

I had intended a simple, straightforward look at the annual

Mayor’s Dinner from last week, with some reaction to the mayor’s

State of the City address and maybe a little color. (I can provide

that, via the night’s emcee and Pilot columnist Peter Buffa: “How

about that hair,” he announced, in reference to Councilman Tod

Ridgeway’s new spiky ‘do.)

Those plans largely have to be shuttered, given the attention the

mayor gave to the Pilot and Publisher Tom Johnson’s response in

Monday’s paper. Enough said on the dispute, other than I’m never

unhappy to have my name mentioned in front of a crowd. As Oscar Wilde

is rumored to have said: “There is only one thing in the world worse

than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”

Instead, I want to take a corollary.

In his speech, the mayor talked about how in Newport Beach we’re

all “family,” or at least should be. And he included the Pilot,

though he chastised us, as Johnson mentioned in his column, for not

being out enough in the community or well enough aware of its pulse.

This idea of “family” relates to a key part of the journalism that

the Pilot produces. And this may come as a surprise to some, but it’s

a part that would get maligned by most journalists and often even is

a tough concept for our reporters to learn and handle.

I happen to think it’s as important to our success as anything we

do. It’s also a key part of why I keep coming to work each day.

Simply put: The journalists at the Daily Pilot are far more

engaged with, tied to and part of this community than at any

“mainstream” newspaper. This is particularly true of the lead editors

-- right now, that’s Tony Dodero and me.

I heard the mayor’s speech Thursday not because I was at the

dinner covering it (though I knew I’d be writing about it a week

later), but because the paper had sponsored a table, and the editors

here try to get out to community events so we keep in touch with

people and maintain our relationships with sources and readers.

I played golf last month in the Mesa Verde Classic for two

reasons: So I could play a round at Mesa Verde Country Club but also

so I could interact with the community members out there in support

of Costa Mesa United’s efforts to build an athletic stadium at

Estancia High and a pool at Costa Mesa High. (Unfortunately, I ended

up playing with South Coast Plaza’s Werner Escher.... I kid. I can

think of few people with whom a round of golf would be more fun.)

This is an unusual if not difficult relationship to have with the

community a journalist covers. It’s far easier to toss the cloak of

objectivity over yourself and keep everyone you cover at a distance.

Writing that puts me in the minority of journalists. I think being

“objective” is the easy way out for us. I also trace objectivity’s

rise in the journalism world not to some high ideal but to the

expansion of the Associated Press, which needed “down the middle”

reporting so it could sell its stories to papers of all political

leanings.

I don’t hold objectivity sacred, in other words. I do believe in

an alternative journalistic trinity: fairness, integrity and serving

your readers to the best of your ability.

The first two parts of that, I trust, are fairly self-explanatory

although easily arguable. What’s more related to this topic is the

idea of serving our readers. I think that is done best by

understanding and knowing your readers and being sensitive to what

they need, want and will be interested in.

And you can’t do that from behind your desk. And you can’t do it

if you’re going to fall back on objectivity as your golden rule.

Serving readers, however, doesn’t mean placating them or smoothing

out the rough edges. We aren’t in the service industry, in its

classic sense. I want readers to take this the right way: The

customer isn’t always right. You can’t send your newspaper back and

get it remade. But I hope the Pilot’s readers trust the editors and

reporters here enough to have faith that the stories we choose to

print, the commentaries we publish and the editorials we write are

ones we think you need, want or will be interested in.

Earning and maintaining that trust is fundamental to our jobs and

is why we deserve a mention in the 1st Amendment.

That trust is most important when it comes to us giving readers

stories we think they “need.” Ones they want usually aren’t terribly

controversial (seemingly stories about Dennis Rodman or the Haidl

rape trial are exceptions). Ones readers will be interested in are

the fun stories, the columns that appear in today’s paper as well as

Friday and Saturday’s.

But the stories readers need. Deciding that is far more difficult.

Those stories are the ones that don’t go down easily, the ones on

subjects that not everyone wants to see in print.

And here’s where being part of the family comes up again. I think

it’s easier to take difficult news from someone closer to you. You

know a family member or friend isn’t being callous when they tell you

you’re getting bald or fat or you’ve spilled your lunch on your

shirt. They might find the last a bit funny, but in the end they are

there for you when times are tough.

Here’s a metaphor for the Pilot’s relationship with the community.

Think of two 10-year-old brothers. They won’t always get along. In

fact, there are times when they get so mad at each other that they

fight. But if they’re out in the frontyard, rolling around and

throwing punches, they’ll stop and team up if the neighborhood bully

comes down the street and tries to get involved.

That’s what family is.

* S.J. CAHN is the managing editor. He may be reached at (714)

966-4607 or by e-mail at [email protected].