The Accusers

Yasha Levine and Mark Ames, writing for their own site, The S.H.A.M.E. Media Transparency Project, which opened shop on in March. As Russian expats, both helped co-found the satirical Russian alt-biweekly The eXile (another co-founder: Rolling Stone political columnist Matt Taibbi), which still lives on, online. More recently, the duo were widely credited with having connected the Koch Brothers to the Tea Party (after Playboy all but erased from existence the original piece in which they initially made the connection for the magazine).

The Accused

Adam Davidson, the co-host and co-founder of NPR's Planet Money. Prior to Planet Money, Davidson worked for NPR as an international business and economics correspondent for NPR, and was a Middle Eastern correspondent for Public Radio International. Aside from co-hosting Planet Money, Davidson also has a gig as a regular columnist for The New York Times Magazine and, according to Levine and Ames, makes decent coin on the side with speaking engagements too. Here's his NPR biography. Here's Levine and Ames's biography of him.

The Charge(s)

First, that a notoriously hostile 2009 Planet Money interview between Davidson and Elizabeth Warren—the special adviser to the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau—was ethically tainted by Planet Money's financial arrangements with "the sole sponsor underwriting Davidson's Planet Money show and his salary." Levine and Ames argue that the sponsor in question—a financial services conglomerate—lobbied against the creation of the CFPB before it was created (and around the time of the interview), which is evidence of an insidious conflict of interest. Furthermore, they allege that Davidson is accepting speaking fees from the industry he covers for both NPR and The New York Times Magazine, something largely viewed as an unsavory, questionable practice by most journalists (and journalism institutions, which usually have guidelines against that sort of thing).

The Evidence

A Sponsorship Problem: Ames and Levine published a 2009 lobbying report signed by the financial conglomerate in question, GMAC (now Ally Financial), in which the company discloses lobbying against the Consumer Financial Protection Agency Act of 2009, which created the CFPB that Elizabeth Warren now acts as a special adviser to. To them, this disclosure speaks great volumes about Davidson's coverage, particularly a 2009 interview between Davidson and Warren. At the time, Warren was lobbying for the act (as she was its architect), which set out to create an agency that would protect consumers from predatory practices by companies like GMAC/Ally Financial. During the interview, Davidson was so surprisingly hostile towards Warren that it famously warranted an apology from NPR's ombudsman.

[Ally (formerly GMAC), the consumer-lending arm of General Motors, is 74 percent owned by the government after receiving a $17.2 billion bailout. Even as other financial firms have emerged from the darkest days of the financial crisis, Ally has remained in the government’s debt, due to the struggles of Residential Capital, the Ally-owned mortgage lender that recently entered Chapter 11 bankruptcy.]

Meanwhile, Ally had sponsored the show since shortly after it had launched, in an arrangement that raised eyebrows when it was initially revealed. Ames and Levine note that at that time, Planet Money was the only NPR show with a single sponsor.

The Speaking Gigs: They've compiled some of Adam Davidson's "lucrative" speaking gigs, hosted and funded by some of the largest financial institutions in the world (JPMorgan, Wells Fargo, Bank of America and Goldman Sachs). While a widespread practice, it's one that in their eyes—and the eyes of many others—compromises journalistic integrity.

The Rules

We could not find the issues of sponsorship directly addressed in NPR's handbook, other than a section on the necessity of disclosures. But the issue has come up even after that section was added in. However: NPR's current ethics guide does mention avoiding speaking to groups where the appearance itself might put into question one's impartiality, along with participation in forums where "sponsoring groups or other participants are identified with a particular perspective." The policy of Chicago Public Media (which owns This American Life, from which Planet Money was spun off): "Journalists may not accept any form of compensation from the individuals, institutions or organizations they cover." Finally, the New York Times' standards and ethics guide urges staffers to be wary of speaking gigs "especially if the setting might suggest a close relationship" to the sponsor, and notes that gigs must be approved by newsroom management. The example they give: "An editor who deals with political campaigns might comfortably address a library gathering but not appear before a civic group that endorses issues or candidates. An environmental reporter can appropriately speak to a horticultural society but not to conservation groups known for their efforts to influence public policy."

Precedent

We couldn't find any examples of NPR ending a sponsorship relationship because of a radio segement or program's purview. That said, Planet Money's sponsorship agreement with Ally has come under question both internally and externally prior to this.

An NPR ombudsman concluded in December 2009:

[NPR senior vice president for news, Eileen] Weiss is correct that NPR has a large pool of credibility with most of its audience. But that pool is not infinite, and it can be diminished when listeners perceive a conflict of interest, even if one does not exist.

No action was taken then. This was nine months after Davidson's interview with Warren, which prompted an on-air apology from Davidson and an NPR ombudsman's column reprimanding Davidson. That column ran five days before Planet Money's deal with Ally was written up on AdAge.

Over at the Times, writers have indeed been punished or even fired for taking speaking fees. Thomas Friedman once had to return $75,000 in unapproved speaking fees. Times technology columnist David Pogue has come under fire multiple times for speaking fees and a trip to Disney World; he still writes there (other, less popular writers have been fired for taking free trips). Mary Tripsas, an associate professor at Harvard Business School, had a monthly column until she was fired for taking a speaking engagement. And Joe Nocera once came under fire for speaking fees, and he was given a pass as well.

What do other Times writers think of the policy? Ask Paul Krugman:

I do very little paid speaking now, and no consulting, because the New York Times has quite strict rules: basically I can only get paid for speaking to nonprofits that have no possible interest in influencing the content of the column. It’s a good rule — read Eric Alterman’s book “Sound and Fury” to see how speaking fees can corrupt pundits — though it meant that I took a substantial income cut to work for the Times.

In Davidson's Defense

Planet Money has indeed covered Ally once before, in a segment derided by an Ally publicist as "false" and "inflammatory." There is no empirical evidence that Davidson—who, in his words, has "nothing to do with the underwriting stuff"—has explicitly interacted with his sponsors in a way that would undoubtedly compromise his show's integrity. Levine and Ames have no proof of Davidson's pay for his speaking gigs (though there's been no denial that he was paid).

The Official Word

An NPR spokesperson refused comment to Ames and Levine. They also contacted Ira Glass of This American Life, who also did not respond to their request for comment.

The Observer contacted an NPR spokesperson for comment through their communications department on Wednesday evening. We asked why they didn't comment to Ames and Levine, if Davidson's speaking engagements are of concern to NPR, and if—in light of the lobbying disclosure form vis-à-vis Davidson's (as noted by their own ombudsman) surprisingly hostile interview with Elizabeth Warren—Planet Money's sponsorship by Ally Bank was a concern to them. At the time, a spokeswoman answered:

I expect we'll give you comment on why we didn't comment before, and perhaps on some of these issues you raise.

This afternoon, the same NPR head of communications Dana Davis Rehm responded:

Adam reviews all his speaking engagements with his editors and we’re confident that none of them run counter to our ethical guidelines.

Beyond that, we don’t have any further comment.

When contacted Wednesday evening, a spokeswoman for the New York Times indicated that our call was the first she had heard of it; as of this afternoon, the Times was reviewing the issue, but had no official comment. UPDATE: On Friday afternoon, a spokeswoman from the New York Times emailed us with official comment:

We have discussed this situation with Adam and we’re confident that there has been no violation of our policies around speaking engagements and no conflict of interest.

When contacted by email Wednesday evening, Ames and Levine had this to say over email:

Until NPR answers these questions and fully discloses the nature of their relationship with Ally Bank, and their conflict-of-interest policy, everything else is a PR distraction. We have provided strong evidence of several very serious conflicts of interest. Evasions and distractions that avoid answering these allegations and questions, like the ones provided by their ombudsman back in 2009, will only reinforce our point about corruption at Planet Money.

They also pointed us to a March 2009 Columbia Journalism Review profile of NPR, which they provided as speaking to proof that "Davidson was in the very least intimately involved in the process of creating the show," which it certainly does. Again, that doesn't explicitly tie Davidson to Ally Bank's interests.

That said, Ames and Levine's takeaway isn't so forgiving:

This says pretty much everything you need to know about the gangrenous state of America's media, when two of the most respected media institutions adopt a mob strategy to protect their little racket.

At the very least, they have indeed made a compelling case that Davidson is—if not complicitly, then inherently—conflicted. Either way, it's a conflict that’s clearly uncomfortable to more than two people, regardless, and a few who'd rather not discuss it as well.

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek

The Public Editor column in question sought to ask whether or not the Times should work to aggressively counter the press lines given to them, by writing those counters within the context of a story. This is a poor way to bring up the ongoing debate about where a journalist providing "news context" crosses over into a journalist providing "opinions." Especially when you title your column "Should The Times Be a Truth Vigilante?" Which sounds less like a public editor column, and more like a particularly unfunny Stephen Colbert segment.

The answer to whether or not the Times should be relentless in its pursuit of truth is "Yes," unless you are the target of that pursuit. Which is why a bunch of Times reporters publicly facepalmed when they read his column. Everyone on Twitter was like "YES!" Some people wrote some legitimately funny takes on it.

Finally, not too long ago, Times' executive editor Jill Abramson filed a response tonight. So eager was the Times to get this response into the open that even the company's head flack made a point of Tweeting it out.

It begins:

Art,

In your blog, you ask “whether and when New York Times news reporters should challenge ‘facts’ that are asserted by newsmakers they write about.” Of course we should and we do. The kind of rigorous fact-checking and truth-testing you describe is a fundamental part of our job as journalists.

Which is basically what everyone else said. Why even dignify this? So outrageous isn't the question itself so much as (A) Mr. Brisbane's inability to ask what he ostensibly meant to say and (B) the awesome, pageview-bating headline he put on it to incite the rage of the masses.

Mr. Brisbane is asking whether or not it's a journalist's place to look at something that is clearly and patently untrue—and either question it or note it as untrue—without empirical evidence. The closest he came to clarifying this question wasn't in the first or even the second post on the matter he wrote, but in an interview with Jim Romenesko:

What I was trying to ask was whether reporters should always rebut dubious facts in the body of the stories they are writing.

This depends on whether or not you're the kind of person who sees something that is plainly full of lies and cannot control the urge to publicly identify it as "total bullshit," or if you're the kind of person who says "well, hold on a second, maybe this person in a position of great power with very powerful interests to protect is actually telling us the truth." Most journalists—especially at the New York Times—are the first kind.

Unfortunately, the proliferation of news sources like Fox News and people like James O'Keefe—who employ euphemisms for "objectivity" to a pornographic degree—have made these lines blur a little more over the last decade. Blogs and bloggers also make fundamentalists like Mr. Brisbane—who, as Jack Shafer pointed out, is no slouch as far as journalism goes—get very squirmy about what "objectivity" means. This is the stripe of mindset that thinks that a journalist shouldn't have an opinion about anything, and that this opinon-less zombified state of human living is what constitutes "objectivity." Hence, his question: Does relentless pursuit of the truth constitute something other than journalist's place, like an agenda (of calling 'bullshit' what it is)?

For the most part, however, most practitioners of journalism would agree that erring on the side of skepticism publicly is probably a good idea. The alternative is the kind of lifeless journalism and commitment to archaic and never-quite-ever-actually-realized ideals of objectivity that hasn't helped anyone, let alone the craft or business of journalism.

Some folks, however, continue to thrive on the journalism of a juicy headline—sometimes quite ginned up—intended to make people ragey. Ask Matt Drudge! He's done okay for himself. Unfortunately, it doesn't appear even that was Mr. Brisbane's intent. It may be worth paying less attention to next time.

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek

1. Soros' Open Society gave money to The Tides Center.

2. The Tides Center, a San Francisco-based quasi-clearinghouse for other nonprofit donations, gave money to AdBusters Magazine.

3. AdBusters—an anti-corporate Canadian magazine teenagers read when they're 16 and listening to lots of Rage Against the Machine and dreaming of protesting globalization before they spend four years at Colgate, afterwards, ending up with a job at Wieden+Kennedy or something—made a poster suggesting people Occupy Wall Street.

4. AdBusters becomes relevant for the first time in, like, seven years when people actually Occupied Wall Street.

5. Reuters quotes Soros regarding Occupy Wall Street, context aside, as saying "I can understand their sentiment."

6. Conclusion: George Soros is behind Occupy Wall Street.

7. Boom: Drudge Link.

This is basically like positing that because a Reuters reporter has an account at Bank of America and a history of spending money, he's clearly funding the anti-Occupy Wall Street hypercapitalist-lobby.

Naturally, critics have not taken kindly to this reporting. Some reviews?

• The Atlantic's Alexis Madrigal: "This is how you do a hit piece on a distributed movement. Invent a leader with a Limbaugh quote and then attack him and the fictional mob he's hired. Wow."
• The Awl: "A+ Traffic-Trolling."
• New York's Noreen Malone: "This story might not be out of place on Fox News, but at Reuters, which has always taken pains to stay above the partisan fray, it smells suspiciously like Drudge bait."
• Max Read of Gawker: "which is better drudge bait, 'SOROS BEHIND TK' or 'MICHELLE OBAMA EATS FRIED TK'"
• New York Times reporter and The Lede blogger J. David Goodman: "Turns up little besides a shaky connection."
• Reuters columnist and social media shaman Anthony DeRosa: "I'd sum up my personal feelings on the article as: that's not @Reuters journalism."
• Retuers' own financial columnist Felix Salmon: "I think it's ridiculous."
• Notorious NYU journalism wonk Jay Rosen: "Seriously, Reuters? This is pathetic...I don't see everything they run. But I do respect their operation. And I've never seen anything that lame from Reuters."
• Executive editor of Thomson Reuters Digital Jim Impoco, following Jay Rosen's comments: "That is putting it kindly."
• Salon's Justin Elliot: "Is Kevin Bacon the force behind Occupy Wall Street? It's irresponsible not to ask."

And so on.

Soros has yet to respond publicly, and the Reuters reporters behind the story have maintained radio silence over Twitter.

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek

As Deadspin's Tommy Craggs so succinctly puts it:

"Editorial Guidelines for Standards and Practices" is the official name, though that's only because "Fifty-Some Pages of Corporate Gently Reminding You Not to Fuck Up the Brand" is a little too on-the-nose.

For an ESPN-torturing website—such as Deadspin is—this is a pretty decent get that will surely get better with age, though at the very least, certainly serves as a reminder of just how stiff things are in Bristol and Beyond. In the advertising standards manual, there's an entire section on when and where condom advertisements can run. They also highlight the section in the editorial standards regarding brand names appearing in stories:

Any time a product or brand name appears in our stories, we are treading on dangerous ground. Even if the mention appears to you to be innocuous, it will attract the close attention of the people behind that product or brand. This does NOT mean we keep brand names out of stories. It DOES mean that we must consider whether a brand name needs to be in a story. In most cases, it does not, and in fact should not.

Emphasis ours. A news outlet being so distinctly persnickety about brand names is, as ESPN is, a distinctly corporate (read: advertiser-sensitive-to-the-touch) positioning. Also of interest is their guideline on social media, namely for talent and reporters:

Personal websites and blogs that contain sports content are not permitted.

and

Steer clear of  engaging in a dialogue that defends your work against those who challenge it and do not engage in media criticism.

Also, that whole thing about avoiding that which isn't in "good taste" and "lurid language," which would make for a good time with Grantland—see: 'Weed Smoking Dogs'— except, they're apparently exempt from these standards.

Of particular charm is the picture on the Deadspin post of editor A.J. Daulerio reading the guidelines on the toilet, though in all fairness, they do make for excellent supplementary reading for anyone diving into Those Guys Have All The Fun, the much-ballyhooed 745 page oral history of ESPN unleashed on the public to rave reviews. If anything, Deadspin will probably get more mileage out of these as a great guide to finding out where the bending points of ESPN's ethics policies are, which is always a pretty illuminating thing to see.

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek