Scales fell from my eyes

I grew up with the Vietnam war and watched the Watergate hearings with my mom. I remember thinking "I want to be a journalist" when Nixon resigned -- the press had the power to expose a corrupt administration and expose it for what it was. This was why we had freedom of the press -- to help the average man and woman.

When I wrote for the school newspapers as a teen, I'd usually write non-investigative stuff: profiles of people, movie reviews, reports of public meetings, the school humor column. I liked it but didn't really work hard -- I like the awards and the attention as much as the writing.

After seeing the movie version of "All the President's Men", I realized that my reasons to go into journalism were flawed. I didn't just want to expose injustice, I wanted to be famous for it. Which were two very different things.

I didn't begrudge Woodward or Bernstein, my childhood heroes, their fame. But, I did notice that Woodward's books became increasingly bizarre and less journalistic and more novelistic. Especially the one where he writes down what the dying Casey is thinking. Weird, yeah but I guess a guy's got to make a living. And he's not covering up, right?

Wrong. Dead wrong. He kept Mark Felt a secret only because he wanted to get a juicy book deal out of it. I thought that was a bad move and showed he cared more about making a buck than decency to an old guy who helped him out when he needed a break.

Okay, so he wasn't perfect. Who is. And when he became a public commentator and dismissive of Patrick Fitzgerald's investigation, I thought that these were the ramblings of a middle aged man who held up his glories while diminishing those of younger men. Oh, well, he's a vain, ageing inside-the-Beltway sort. He's not evil.

Now it turns out he knew all about the smear campaign by the administration of Valerie Plame and Joe Wilson but chose not to write about it, tell the writers involved, or tell his boss. He felt no loyalty to the truth. He was forced to tell it and still insists on silence.

So let me say this, you morally bankrupt journalists. Your audience is the public. The non-connected non-elites. The people you cover are not your friend. Stop f*cking over the non-connected people. No fabulous party is worth dying knowing you've made the lives of most people in the world WORSE due to your uncritical, unthinking work.

ps. Bob Garfield has a great takedown of Judith Miller, pal of Lewis "I LOVE Bears" Libby.