On or about the morning of March 28, Your Humble Blogger put together a blogroll, of sorts. Two of the sites I linked to were Nathan Newman and the Daily Kos. Shortly after I linked to them, both of them made comments about the events in Fallujah that were not overly sympathetic to the deceased and their families, nor expressed outrage at the behaviour of the mob. Both of them expressed dismay that the press were reporting that ‘civilians’ were killed, and called the deceased ‘mercenaries’. Nathan Newman pointed out that “Iraqi insurgents are hardly going to distinguish between rent-a-soldiers and the real thing.” Kos went further, saying “They are there to wage war for profit. Screw them.”
The next thing, more or less, is that Michael Friedman on Fried Man drew attention to the Kos post, and specifically asked his readers to contact DKos’ advertisers to complain. Glenn Reynolds, the Instapundit, then wrote about the DKos comment, and linked to the Fried Man. Mr. Reynolds also noted Nathan Newman’s post on the topic. The Fried Man had 10,000 visitors the next day; both Nathan Newman and DKos had many hostile and profane posts.
Since that time, at least four campaigns and organizations have severed their relationship with DKos, and John Kerry’s campaign blog has removed its link to his site (tho’ not to Nathan Newman’s).
Now, I assume that my Gentle Readers all know that I don’t agree with everything said on other sites that I admire or link to. But in case it comes up, I am appalled by the behaviour of the mob, I continue to hope that each death in Iraq will be the last, I do feel the deaths of Americans more strongly and more emotionally than the deaths of non-compatriots (tho’ I know that’s illogical and consider it unethical), I am not certain whether it’s appropriate to call the men ‘mercenaries’ but am pretty sure that calling them ‘civilians’ is misleading, and I am appalled that our nation is hiring private security forces in a war zone. I read both Mr. Newman’s and Kos’ comments without being shocked by either. There.
More important than my own thoughts, though, this little blogotempest is bringing up lots of interesting points about blogs, journalists, campaigns, ethics, and appropriate behaviour. Matt Stoller has an interesting take on BoPNews, contrasting talk-radio with blogs. Atrios makes Some Changes in his own policies at Eschaton. Al Giordano calls it John Kerry’s Sistah Souljah Moment.
My own quick thought is that we need a Blog Code of Ethics, which can help us deal with things like this. Bloggers deal with money but much more with influence, and both are powerful motivators. I have no idea what the proper code of ethics might be, but it would be nice to have a copy, together with some case studies and examples of how to deal with various situations. As journalists do with their code, we could each choose to follow it, amend it, or publish our own. It would be a starting point, though.
I suspect many of us don’t ever think about ethical issues raised by our position as broadcasters. That’s OK for someone like me, with a dozen (wonderful) readers and few obligations (other than to Jed, which I’ve disclosed nearly often enough). I can make my ethical decisions as I go along. Do I make stupid comments? Sure, that’s why we’re here. Do I make factual errors? I do, on occasion, and I try to correct them. I try to give credit where it is due, and in general blog appropriately.
Kos has a harder job, and very few rules to rely on. He evidently gets something like 100,000 hits a day; he fund-raises, he takes advertisements, he directs people to other sites both with a blogroll and with linked posts, and he provides opportunities for guest bloggers. There are many opportunities for conflict of interest, and for misrepresentation, miscommunication, and misunderstanding. He doesn’t appear to notice the need for a code of ethics to guide him, trusting his own judgment on the fly. I think that’s dangerous, for him and for his associates. I don’t mean to single him out, here, either; if Lawrence Lessig isn’t flying by the seat of his ethical pants, I’m not aware of his structural safety net.
None of this is particularly new; I found this article by John Hiler from two years ago and this one from Cyberjournalist.net from a year ago. There are plenty more; very few of them seem to deal with specifics of conflict of interest. Which makes sense; a site like DKos, with the astonishing quantity of his potential conflicts, didn’t really exist until a few months ago. It does now, though, and if a bunch of people had worked on the issue beforehand, then he, his associates, and his advertisers would have had an easier time of it this week.
Redintegro Iraq,
-Vardibidian.
Yes, the ethics of blogging. Vardibidian has pulled together a bunch of issues in this entry that I had never thought about, and more information about it than I will have time to fully delve into, getting at fundamental difficulties in building a civil society on the net and off of it. I hope others will be able to add more productively to this discussion than I can.
I do want to respond briefly concerning the ethics of speaking about the recent deaths in Fallujah and the mutilation of the bodies of the dead.
If there is not universal outrage at the death of these men (setting aside the treatment of the bodies), that is because who these men were, and what role they were playing in Iraq, is ambiguous. Were they civilians, were they mercenaries? What business did they have being in Iraq? These ambiguities follow from the ethical and legal ambiguity of the U.S. occupation of Iraq. While the necessary fig-leaf acceptance by the U.N. of the U.S. occupation may now have been obtained — I’m not sure of the legal niceties — it’s clear that the justification for the U.S.’s actions in Iraq under international law is sketchy at best.
Given that U.S. citizens in Iraq have entered that country using deadly force and continue to enforce their authority in Iraq by the use of deadly force without a clear legal mandate, exactly what grounds for outrage do Americans have when Iraqis who object to this treatment respond with deadly force themselves? I feel grief for the American and for the Iraqi dead, and for the Americans and Iraqis who are brutalizing and killing one another. I grieve especially for enlisted men and women who have, by entering the military, given away their right not to go to Iraq. For those who have the choice not to go to Iraq, however, I must infer that, if they do go, they know the risks.
For the hard view, this from Hamlet:
Horatio. So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to ‘t.
Hamlet. Why, man, they did make love to this employment,
They are not near my conscience. Their defeat
Does by their own insituation grow.
For a more compassionate view, this from Henry V
I am afeard there are few die well that die in a battle; for how can they charitably dispose of any thing, when blood is their argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the King that led them to it.
Chris, in Henry V, the title character (in disguise at the time) immediately contradicts the passage you quote, saying in part “the king is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of servant; for they purpose not their death, when they purpose their services”, and “Every subject’s duty is the king’s; but every subject’s soul is his own.”
You’re more of a Shakespeare scholar than me (ok, vastly more :^); which message does that scene as a whole convey?
Regardless, I don’t think anyone deserves to be killed and torn to bits by a mob, whatever wrongs they’ve done in life. I may understand why the mob would do such an evil thing, but that makes it no less evil.
I am deeply suspicious of new Codes of Ethics like V’s proposed “Blog Code of Ethics”. These are too often promoted by organizations like the DMA which seek to self-regulate (and thereby exempt themseves from external regulation) without good justification.
We have obligations as human beings to act fairly toward each other. We have obligations as members of a society to act in ways that do not harm that society. We have obligations as members of communities to act in ways that do not harm those communities. We have secular and religious laws, and personal ethics, and group ethics at many levels (both hierarchical and orthogonal), and at what point is that no longer enough?
Journalists and news organizations have codes of ethics because they want to be trusted as a class and they want to be trusted individually by virtue of being members of that class. The same goes for doctors and lawyers. These codes of ethics only have any function in engendering trust as long as almost all members of the class follow that code of ethics. As more journalists and news organizations fail to follow any code of ethics, the public stops trusting them. The same goes for doctors and lawyers.
So why are bloggers a distinct class who deserve more trust than people in general? Why would it be different from a Redhead Code of Ethics? (Please, no redhead jokes.) I think that such trust in bloggers is neither deserved in practice nor in the ideal. Would you actually want someone not to blog because they fail to follow a particular code of ethics, any more than you would want someone not to speak? While you might appreciate the mantle of respectability that a Blog Code of Ethics could confer (through public misunderstanding of its force or substance if at all), why would you want that mantle conferred equally on every other blogger who will be lumped in with you? What advantage does that serve?
Blogging is a medium. It is neither a message nor a messenger. We insist on very specific rules for airwave broadcasters because there is a limited broadcast spectrum and a “push” interface with the public. Bloggers are not broadcasters, and such a comparison opens the door to federal regulations that would be inappropriately applied to blogs. (V, your phrase “our position as broadcasters” is really the catalyst for my posting on this topic.)
Bloggers who are acting as journalists should follow a journalistic code of ethics. That is not what all bloggers are striving to be, so it is not appropriate to apply something like a journalistic code of ethics to all bloggers. And a news-oriented blog is not a sufficiently distinct medium from a newspaper to justify a separate code of ethics for bloggers from the one that other journalists subscribe to.
Much of what is useful about blogs is opinion and analysis. We already have a certain code of ethics which we drastically penalize people for violating — that code of ethics takes the form of libel, slander, and tort laws (restraint of trade, intereference with business, unfair competition, etc.). I believe that these existing laws already limit expression of opinion and analysis in very unfortunate ways. I would hate to see those limitations added to, whether through further laws or through a code of ethics which would, of necessity, constrain speech. I want the freedom to express my opinion and analysis following my own personal code of ethics, and I want others to have the same freedom even when their code of ethics differs from mine (not to mention their opinion and analysis).
There are lots of ethical issues that may come up for some bloggers, such as fund-raising or accepting advertising or linking to other web sites. But why are the ethics of fund-raising different for bloggers than for other fund-raisers? Why are the ethics of accepting advertising different for bloggers than for other people or businesses who accept advertising? Why are the ethics of linking to web sites different for bloggers than for non-blog web sites?
Aside from public perception and public trust, a code of ethics can provide guidance for people who do not sufficiently trust the codes of ethics they already abide by, or who are venturing into territory in which they have never needed to make ethical decisions before. But a Blog Code of Ethics which would actually serve those functions would be duplicative of existing codes of ethics which deal with each of those various areas which blogs can touch on, and would likely short-change each of those areas in an attempt to be understandable as a singular code in itself. Worse, though, it would further the idea that blogs are something new under the sun to which old rules need not apply, and would convince some (many?) bloggers that the Blog Code of Ethics should replace their own considered judgment. I don’t want Lessig and Kos to follow (or diverge from) a standardized code of ethics.
It is a moot point, because there will never be widespread agreement among bloggers about fine ethical points. A Blog Code of Ethics is a far more powerful idea than potential reality. As an idea, it suggests a set of simple answers to questions that are in reality very complicated. I believe that communities and ideas thrive when simple answers are not deemed sufficient. Blogs at their best should promote both communities and ideas.
You’re more of a Shakespeare scholar than me (ok, vastly more :^); which message does that scene as a whole convey?
Well, it depends on how it’s performed: the scene contains two contrary “messages,” and what one hears of those messages, and how one weighs them, depends on the particular speakers and listeners. My judgment is that Henry is evading Williams’s central point, which is that a king, or any leader, is responsible for the justness of his cause the more so because both the lives and the souls of all who serve that leader will be affected by it. Henry leaves aside the question of whether it is possible that he has led men into sinful behavior (which is the “black matter” to which Williams refers) and addresses only the question of whether the king is responsible for the deaths of those that die fighting for his cause. He argues effectively that the king is not responsible for their deaths, because he does not purpose those deaths, or at least not the deaths of those particular persons (see King David and Uriah the Hittite for a case of a king purposing the death of one of his soldiers in particular). But does that response take away the king’s responsibility for leading men to fight in an unjust cause? I don’t think it does. That’s how I read this exchange, anyway. It’s not that Henry is wrong, but that he doesn’t address what Williams has put forward as the key issue, and I infer that he doesn’t address it because he’s not in a position to gainsay Williams on it.
Regardless, I don’t think anyone deserves to be killed and torn to bits by a mob, whatever wrongs they’ve done in life. I may understand why the mob would do such an evil thing, but that makes it no less evil.
I would for the most part agree, though I would say that no one _ought_ to be killed and torn to bits by a mob, because no group of people ought ever to treat another person in that fashion: I’m not so clear on how it is possible to know what a particular person _deserves_.
Since I’ve been quoting Hamlet a bit, here’s his take on this matter of deserving:
Hamlet. Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? . . .
Polonius. My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
Hamlet. God’s bodkin, man, much better: use every man after his desert, and who shall scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity — the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.
Tragedy shows us that there are forces in the world, and in human beings, that can unleash horrible retribution against a person regardless of whether or not that person _deserves_ such treatment, and it is folly to dismiss or ignore the workings of such forces. This is a folly that often follows from a person or a group’s conviction that he/she/they is righteous and innocent and is therefore free of the consequences that follow from actions that otherwise would be viewed as violating the rights of others. Our administration’s policies in Iraq are founded upon such folly (as well as other kinds of folly), and in this incident we see the consequences of that. I’m not defending the mob’s actions. They are equally convinced of their rightness and innocence, or they would not dare to do such a horrible thing, which surely will not bring good to the town of Fallujah or to Iraq in general. In tragedy _no one_ is innocent. Our involvement in Iraq is a long, slow historical tragedy, and this is one of the more gruesome scenes, though not the bloodiest.
Interesting stuff. But I guess I’m not sure how a Blog Code of Ethics would have changed the DKos situation. Would it have prevented him from saying what he said? Would it have prevented him from taking money? Would it have prevented him from posting a retraction?
It seems to me that conflicts of interest are relevant mostly in situations in which the person in question is widely trusted and/or expected to act in an impartial manner (with regard to whatever matter is in question). Journalists, as Michael noted, can have conflicts of interest because they’re trusted; likewise judges. A politician can have a conflict of interest when their personal interests (like increasing their own wealth) conflict with their public responsibilities (like passing good laws).
So it seems to me that a blogger could only have a conflict of interest if (a) people trusted them to behave according to some public standard and (b) they behaved otherwise because of their own personal interest.
But it also seems to me that it’s in the nature of most blogging to behave according to personal interest. The primary exception is the relatively new concept of an official or semi-official blog—something that carries the imprimatur of a political campaign, say, or that presents a public face of a computer company—and I think in such cases the nature of the blog is to behave according to the organization’s interests.
So what I’m really getting at is that I don’t think of any blogs as existing in order to provide an impartial examination or presentation of facts; blogs are, almost by nature but certainly by tradition, biased.
…I guess another way of putting it is that I see blogs as the equivalent of either opinion columns or advertising (depending on the blog), and as long as nobody mistakes either of those for factual news, I don’t think I see what a code of ethics (that goes beyond existing laws against libel) would add.
I do think that bloggers would do well to think carefully about the odd mix of public and private that comes up in blogging. People regularly post things in their online journals that they regret later; journals have cost people friends, have probably cost people jobs, and so on. But I don’t think that’s a matter of ethics so much as a matter of deciding where your comfort level is and of being aware of just how public (and long-lived) these things are.
I’m amused by the interleaving of the blog thread and the Shakespeare thread here in the comments.
Tragedy shows us that there are forces in the world, and in human beings, that can unleash horrible retribution against a person regardless of whether or not that person _deserves_ such treatment, and it is folly to dismiss or ignore the workings of such forces.
Perhaps so. What I suggest is that when this happens, it is tragic, and cause for outrage, not celebration.
Good points about the Henry V exhange, btw — thanks.
Irilyth wrote: Perhaps so. What I suggest is that when this happens, it is tragic, and cause for outrage, not celebration.
Responding to tragedy is one of the enduring human problems. I agree totally that to celebrate tragedy is wrong, and creates an obscene spectacle. Insofar as I feel outrage, I feel outrage about the tragedy, which includes both the killers and the victims. For the killers and the victims themselves, I feel grief and pity. Others will feel other ways. My statement of feelings is not a claim that other feelings are wrong. People will respond to tragedy as it strikes them, without conscious or immediate control. We have to suffer what the world brings to us.
The question of responding to tragedy begins when we have to decide what to do with our feelings, how (if at all) to use them as a moral guide to action, whether to sustain them and follow the promptings of passion, whether to attempt to master them and move on.
My suggestion is that maintaining a sense of outrage against the killers or the victims extends a simple, visceral response to the tragedy in ways that only feed the forces that unleashed the tragedy in the first place. To get out of tragedy, we have to reject the appeal of this course, the emotional satisfactions of this course, and turn our outrage, if we must have outrage, towards the tragedy itself.