Part 1 of 2.
One of the great deceptions of our time is the idea that there is, or has ever been, objectivity in journalism. Granted there are some naïve, young journalists who enter the field aiming to remain neutral and objective in all aspects. But those altruistic motives are quickly co-opted, often without the journalist even realizing it, by the propaganda from the sources covered, by management, by funders (advertisers), by conventional wisdom and by the herd mentality.
So “objective media” is really just code word for the agenda of the state. Today, all national mainstream media are controlled by six mega-corporations. Here is a graphic that shows the incestuous relationship of the corporate media.
There has never been an objective media in the U.S., and it’s doubtful there has ever been one in the history of the world. During the Revolutionary War, there were newspapers supporting and newspapers opposing the revolution that printed either “facts” or “propaganda” depending upon which side the reader supported.
Newspaper editors in colonial and early United States times thought it their duty to society to give voice to the ideas in which they believed. To muzzle themselves or others who held the same opinions would have seemed nonsensical to them.
The early newspapers, broadsheets and pamphlets gave voice to the ideas of Revolution. It’s not a stretch to say that the Revolution would not have been possible if newspapers had focused more on being “objective” and less on being intentionally contrarian, if not provocative or even incendiary.
Some papers of the time claimed independence. In the introduction to his book, Infamous Scribblers: The Founding Fathers and The Rowdy Beginnings of American Journalism, Ken Burns notes the Salem [Massachusetts] Gazette boasted that it was “Influenced neither by COURT or COUNTRY” and that it gave “the most impartial accounts of the transactions of the present times.” But its views were profoundly pro-British in the run up to the war. The Pennsylvania Ledger claimed it was “Free and Impartial,” but it was decidedly pro-Revolution.
On the other hand there were editors like William “Porcupine” Cobbett, who published this statement of purpose in his first issue of the Porcupine Gazette: “Professions of impartiality I shall make none.” He went on to describe his competitor, Benjamin Franklin Bache — the grandson of Benjamin Franklin — as a “crafty and lecherous old hypocrite.” Of Bache, Cobbett also wrote he “is a liar, a fallen wretch; a vessel formed for reprobation and therefore we should always treat him as we would a TURK, a JEW, a JACOBIN or a DOG.”
Bache was notorious for writing scathing critiques of Federalist politicians, especially Washington and John Adams. Bache wrote that Washington was “dull, uninspiring and wedded to authority, order and pomp.”
Burns notes that one early American newspaper described a competitor as a collection of “incendiary, prostituted, hireling scribblers (sic).”
Another paper wrote, “If ever a nation was debauched by a man, the American nation has been debauched by [George] Washington.” When the editor of that paper died at the age of 30, a pro-Washington paper declared that “The memory of this scoundrel cannot be too highly execrated.”
Burns writes:
But the colonial press was not merely partisan; as Cobbett demonstrates, it was a times vile, crude, unjust, more of a blight on communities to which it reported than a service, a means of inciting more than informing.
While newspapers in colonial America could be highly partisan, they were not without limits on what they could and did say. Their presses were often used for more than just printing newspapers. They had offices for serving the public, and printing was a time-consuming and laborious process that required employees. Plus, printing presses were bulky and not easily moved. British governors were not averse to having a printer shut down if his writing hit too close to home. As Revolutionary fervor grew, Tory printers who the locals believed crossed the line in their support of the king often had their businesses boycotted, vandalized or destroyed altogether.
But writers and publishers of pamphlets and broadsides faced no such limits. They were often written under pseudonyms, printed by sympathetic printers in the dead of night and then distributed anonymously. They were the bloggers of their day, and there was almost nothing they wouldn’t publish in an attempt to promote their cause or candidate and tear down their opponent.
James Franklin — older brother of Benjamin Franklin — likely began the tradition of crusading journalist, Burns writes. With pirates raiding commercial ships along the New England coast in 1722, Franklin deemed the authorities too lax in dealing with the problem. In his Courant, Franklin scolded them for tardiness and ineptitude and singled out a particular captain appointed to stop the privateers for criticism, writing sarcastically, “’Tis thought he will sail sometime this month if wind and weather permit.”
He began to rail at authority figures over everything, including their mode of dress. He wrote, “This Pride of Apparel will appear the more foolish, if we consider that those airy Mortals who have no other Way of making themselves considerable but by gorgeous Apparel; draw afret them Crowds of Imitators, who … destroy by Example, and envy one another’s Destruction.”
He continued berating Massachusetts officials until he was imprisoned and forced to turn his paper over to brother Benjamin during his incarceration.
It can be argued that nothing so sowed the seeds of Revolution than Thomas Paine’s pamphlet Common Sense. It hit the streets of Philadelphia on January 10, 1776. It was unsigned and addressed “to the inhabitants of America.” In his book, Covering America: A Narrative History of a Nation’s Journalism, Christopher B. Daly writes:
The impact of this particular pamphlet, out of the hundreds then circulating, was unprecedented. It spread quickly through the colonies, rapidly going through several editions. Paine himself later estimated that some 150,000 copies were sold in 1776, although that number seems high. But since each copy was likely to passed around a few times or posted in a tavern or other public place, Common Sense was seen by perhaps a quarter of a million people. At the time, the entire population of the colonies was about 2 million. If we subtract slaves, children, and illiterate adults (although the essay was sometimes read aloud, too), Paine appears to have come to the attention of almost everyone in the colonies who could read.
Daly also notes:
Many printers continued to take sides in political matters well after the Revolution. Indeed, once politicized, American editors worked to place themselves at the heart of the new system of party politics, and they managed to remain important political players for the rest of the 19th century.
That was the atmosphere surrounding the press as the Founders met to discuss the Constitution. And they used the free press to push the Constitution onto the people through the publishing of what we now know as The Federalist Papers, which were written under a pseudonym by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison and John Jay and printed in pro-Federalist newspapers. Those opposed to the new Constitution — the Anti-Federalists — also used newspapers to print their objections.
So the Founders knew what they were doing when they wrote the 1st Amendment to the Constitution. They recognized that it served as a check on government and could be used to expose corruption and abuse by those in power.
