Central Ideas in the Development of American Journalism

A Narrative History

Marvin N. Olasky

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• eBook ISBN: 9781317403364
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Media Studies
• Index: Social Sciences

Originally published in 1991. This fascinating book of journalism history outlines the author's concepts of the three 'central ideas' in journalism which have evolved through time. The first is the Official Story, that which state authorities wanted people to know; the second, the Corruption Story, emphasised the abuse of authority by those in power and focused on a willingness to oppose the official and tell the specific detail; and the third, the Oppression Story, where journalists present the cause of events as down to external influences and work to change the social environment.

The book narrates the history from its European beginnings in the 16th and 17th Centuries up to the early 20th Century, expressing how all interpretive journalism has a philosophic, world-view, component and understanding journalism history entails understanding these insights of the times.

PART IRISE OF THE CORRUPTION STORY

Chapter 1Unnatural Acts

DOI: 10.4324/9781315682501-4

In America, we expect journalists to have some independence from government and other leading power centers. We are not surprised to glance at the morning newspaper or television news show and see exposure of wrongdoing. We assume that the press has a responsibility to print bad news as well as good. And yet, that which seems ordinary to us is unusual in the history of the world, and even in much of the world today.

How did the unnatural act of independent journalism come to seem so natural? To begin answering that question, we need to go back, back beyond the start of American journalism, back even before Gutenberg. Journalism-information and analysis concerning recent events, published in multiple copies or disseminated beyond the immediate reach of the speaker's voice- is many centuries old. Journalistic products emerged in many lands and in many varieties, but they most often promoted the official story of governmental power and wisdom: “If you obey, we will take care of you.” (A more modern way of saying the same might be, “Depend on us to establish the proper environment for your life.”) Official, state-allied religion often received protection also. Published news was what authorities wanted people to know.

Throughout the many centuries before printing, official story publications came and went. One of the better known early journalistic vehicles was the Acta Diurna, a handwritten news sheet posted in the Roman Forum and copied by scribes for transmission throughout the empire. Acta emphasized governmental decrees but also gained readership by posting gladiatorial results and news of other popular events. Julius Caesar used the Acta to attack some of his opponents in the Roman senate-but there could be no criticism of Caesar. (Had there been independent journalism, he might have faced only character assassination on the Ides of March.) Other handwritten publications also emerged during ancient and medieval times, with the goal of passing on news that state or state-church authorities wished leading citizens to know. This was true in Asia and other continents as well as in Europe. Sometimes, ballads and poems that mocked the official news vehicles were passed on orally from person to person, but the official version, with support from the state church, endured from generation to generation.

In Western Europe, kings with support from the Catholic Church were said to rule by divine right, and the official story was the only story allowed. Leaders might acknowledge that a different story prevailed in heaven-there, God was sovereign and biblical principles were practiced-but only those who went away to monasteries or nunneries might be able to see God's will being done on earth as in heaven. This dualistic sense of spiritual and temporal realms removed from each other was evident not only in journalism but in artwork and other cultural realms as well. The Bible itself was removed from daily life and available only to the elite who knew Latin; Pope Innocent IV in 1252 forbade translating the Bible into vernacular languages.

The tiny and fairly barbaric part of the world where English was spoken was no exception to the general rule. In 1275 the statute of Westminister I outlawed “tales whereby discord or occasion of discord or slander may grow between the king and his people or the great men of the realm.” Anything that could inspire such discord-including the Bible, which stated laws of God under which every man and woman, whether king or commoner, had to live - was banned. After John Wycliffe disobeyed Papal rulings and translated the Bible into English during the late 14th century, English church authorities cracked down, with the synod of Canterbury in 1408 forbidding the translation of Scripture from one language to another. Wycliffe's books were burned in 1410 and 1412. His bones were dug up and burned in 1428.

A technological revolution began around 1450 with the development of movable type in the Mainz workshop of Johann Gutenberg. But technological changes matter little as long as “world views” - clusters of convictions about what's important in life-remain the same. The demand from monasteries and kings or commercial leaders for big, printed, Latin Bibles was growing. Printed volumes met that demand, but the Bibles were usually for show rather than tell. Printing created potential for change and pressure to change from those who saw opportunities, but as long as reading was discouraged by state and church authorities, and as long as independent printers were jailed or killed, there would be little change.

The limited effect of the technological revolution, by itself, was indicated by early post-Gutenberg developments in England. Printing began there in 1476 when William Caxton, given royal encouragement and grant of privileges upon good behavior, set up a press in Westminster. Others followed, but were careful to avoid publishing works that might irritate the king or his ministers. Regulations limited the number of printers and apprentices. Royal patents created printing monopolies. It was illegal to import, print, or distribute threatening books, such as English translations of the Bible. In this policy England remained in line with other state-church countries during the early 1500s-but then came the providential sound of a hammer on a door, and the beginning of a theological onslaught (aided by journalistic means) that changed Europe.

Modem journalism began in 1517 as the German prince Frederick the Wise was putting the finishing touches on his life's work of building up Wittenberg's sacred relic collection. Through purchase and trade he was able to claim a “genuine” thorn from Christ's crown, a tooth of St. Jerome, four hairs from the Virgin Mary, seven pieces from the shroud sprinkled with Christ's blood, a wisp of straw from the place where Jesus was born, one piece of gold brought by the Wise Men, a strand of Jesus' beard, one of the nails driven into Christ's hands, one piece of bread eaten at the Last Supper, one twig of Moses' burning bush, and nearly 20,000 holy bones.

Announcements of relic collection highlights were made regularly through proclamations and assorted announcements, the typical journalistic products of the time. Few people could read-most were discouraged from even trying, for reading could lead to theological and political rebellion-but town criers and local priests passed on official story messages promoting the goals of governmental authorities and the official, state-allied religion. In 1517 Wittenberg residents were told that all of Frederick's treasures would be displayed on All Saints Day, and that those who viewed them and made appropriate donations could receive papal indulgences allowing for a substantial decrease of time spent in purgatory, either for the viewer/contributor or someone he would designate. Total time saved could equal l,902,202 years and 270 days.

Quiet criticism of the indulgence system was coming from Professor Martin Luther, who stated that the Bible gave no basis for belief in indulgences and argued that the practice interfered with true contrition and confession. But, despite Luther's lectures, indulgence-buying continued as champion salesman Tetzel offered altruism at bargain prices:

Listen to the voices of your dear dead relatives and friends, beseeching you and saying, “Pity us, pity us. We are in dire torment from which you can redeem us for a pittance.” Do you not wish to? Open your ears. Hear the father saying to his son, the mother to her daughter, “We bore you, nourished you, brought you up, left you our fortunes, and you are so cruel and hard that now you are not willing for so little to set us free. Will you let us lie here in flames? Will you delay our promised glory?” Remember that you are able to release them, for “As soon as the coin in the coffer rings,/ The soul from purgatory springs.”¹

The pitch was strong, but Luther decided to oppose it head-on by making his ideas of protest accessible to all, not just a few. The 95 theses he hammered to the cathedral door in 1517 were not academic sentences but clear, vivid statements. For example, concerning the plan to obtain money to build St. Peter's, Luther wrote:

The revenues of all Christendom are being sucked into this insatiable basilica…. The pope would do better to appoint one good pastor to a church than to confer indulgences upon them all. Why doesn't the pope build the basilica of St. Peter out of his own money? He is richer than Croesus. He would do better to sell St. Peter's and give the money to the poor folk who are being fleeced by the hawkers of indulgences.²

Luther then gave printers permission to set the theses in type-and they spread throughout Europe within a month.

The effect of Luther's theses and his subsequent publications is well known-but what often is missed is that Luther's primary impact was not as a producer of treatises, but as a very popular writer of vigorous prose that concerned not only theological issues but their social and political ramifications. Between 1517 and 1530 Luther's 30 publications probably sold well over 300,000 copies, an astounding total at a time when illiteracy was rampant and printing still an infant. ³ Because Luther had such influence through his writing the pressure on him to mute the truth became enormous, but he said “My conscience is captive to the Word of God … Here I stand, I can do no other.”⁴

Luther's lively style and willingness to risk death for the sake of truth-telling would be enough to make him a model for today's journalists, but it was his stress on literacy that made independent journalism possible at all. Literacy was low throughout Europe until the 16th century-perhaps only about 1 out of 100 persons could read. Reading was looked upon as a servile activity; just as corporate CEOs today have secretaries to do their typing, so the kings of medieval times remained illiterate and had designated readers. Nor were those of low estate encouraged to read by state or church authorities. A 16th century French treatise argued that people should not read on their own, less they become confused; ordinary folk especially should not read the Bible, because they should learn only from priests.⁵ As one historian has noted, authorities “held it was safer to have less Scripture reading than more heresy.”⁶

Luther and other Reformation leaders, however, emphasized the importance of Bible reading; Christians were to find out for themselves what God was saying. Literacy rates soared everywhere the Reformation took root, and remained low wherever it was fought off. Luther not only praised translation into the vernacular languages but made a masterful one himself. In preparing his German translation Luther so understood the need for specific detail to attract readers that when he wanted to picture the precious stones and coins mentioned in the Bible, he first examined German court jewels and numismatic collections. Similarly, when Luther needed to describe Old Testament sacrifices he visited slaughterhouses and gained information from butchers. He was a vivid reporter as well as a tenacious theologian.

Furthermore, he was a reporter who desired to print not just good news, but bad news also. Luther's Reformed theological understanding led him to write,

God's favor is so communicated in the form of wrath that it seems farthest when it is at hand. Man must first cry out that there is no health in him. He must be consumed with horror …. In this disturbance salvation begins. When a man believes himself to be utterly lost, light breaks. Peace comes in the word of Christ through faith.⁷

Reformation leaders believed that people would seek the good news of mercy only after they became fully aware of the bad news of sin. This was the basis of the corruption story: Man needs to be become aware of his own corruption in order to change through God's grace, and writers who help make readers aware of sin are doing them a service.

Luther also made journalism significant by arguing that the path to progress is through change in ideas and beliefs, rather than through forced social revolution or reaction.⁸ In Luther's thought the most significant warfare was ideological, not material, so he emphasized dissemination of ideas through publication and opposed attempts to destroy opposing ideas through burning either books or authors. “Heretics,” he said, “should be vanquished with books, not with burnings.”⁹ Luther wanted an exchange of views, not swordthrusts. He described printing as “God's highest and extremest act of grace, whereby the business of the Gospel is driven forward.”¹⁰

Others felt differently about those perceived as heretics. In 1529 Henry VIII of England banned importation of either the writings of Martin Luther or other works, including Bible translations, that supposedly engaged in “reproach, rebuke, or slander of the king.”¹¹ Thomas Hilton was burned in 1530 for selling books by William Tyndale that advocated the supreme authority of Scripture against both s...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Original Title Page
• Original Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Part I: Rise of the Corruption Story
• Part II: Macrostories in Conflict
• Part III: Breakthrough of the Oppression Story
• Appendix A: 16th-, 17th-, and 18th-Century Moral Tales
• Appendix B: Journalism Historians and Religion
• Appendix C: Methodological Notes
• Appendix D: Defending the Corruption Story
• Notes
• Index