Newspapers in America may be closing
up shop, but muckrakers around the world are holding corrupt officials and
corporate cronies accountable like never before.
In our world, the news about the news is often grim. Newspapers are
shrinking, folding up, or being cut loose by their parent companies. Layoffs are
up and staffs are down. That investigative reporter who covered the state
capitol—she’s not there anymore. Newspapers like the Los Angeles Times, the
Washington Post, and the Chicago Tribune have suffered from multiple rounds of
layoffs over the years. You know the story and it would be easy enough to
imagine that it was the world’s story as well. But despite a long run of
journalistic tough times, the loss of advertising dollars, and the challenge of
the Internet, there’s been a blossoming of investigative journalism across the
globe from Honduras to Myanmar, New Zealand to Indonesia.
Woodward and Bernstein may be a fading memory in this country, but
journalists with names largely unknown in the US like Khadija Ismayilova, Rafael
Marques, and Gianina Segnina are breaking one blockbuster story after another,
exposing corrupt government officials and their crony corporate pals in
Azerbaijan, Angola, and Costa Rica. As I travel the world, I’m energized by the
journalists I meet who are taking great risks to shine much needed light on
shadowy wrongdoing.
And I’m not the only one to notice. “We are in a golden age of
investigative journalism,” says Sheila Coronel. And she should know.
Now the academic dean at Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism,
Coronel was the director of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism,
whose coverage of the real estate holdings of former President Joseph
Estrada—including identical houses built for his mistresses—contributed to his
removal from office in 2001.
These are, to take another example, the halcyon days for watchdog
journalism in Brazil. Last October, I went to a conference of
investigative journalists there organized by the Global Journalism Investigative
Network. There were 1,350 attendees. In July, I was back for another
conference, this time organized by the Association of Brazilian Investigative
Journalists and attended by close to 450 reporters. Thanks in part to
Brazil’s Freedom of Information Act and the “open budget” movement that seeks to
shed light on the government’s finances (and let people have a say in how their
tax dollars are spent), journalists there have been busy exposing widespread
corruption in local government as well as a cash-for-votes scheme that resulted
in the arrest of nine senior politicians.
Cross-border news networks funded by foundations and philanthropists are
carrying out similar investigations all over the world. Based in New York
and edited by a Nigerian, Omoyele Sowore, Sahara Reporters uses leaked stories
and documents to expose corruption in Africa’s richest country. Its funders
include the Omidyar Network, created by eBay founder Pierre Omidyar and his
wife, Pam, and its stated goal is nothing less than “seeking the truth and
publishing it without fear or favor.”
A group of students and I studied Sahara Reporters earlier this year.
In our report, we described one typical story that outlet broke which detailed
how then-Minister of Aviation Stella Oduah purchased two bulletproof BMWs—at
nearly double the normal price—with funds from the Nigerian Civil Aviation
Authority (NCAA). Sahara Reporters posted receipts of the purchases and
documents linking Oduah to the scheme. It also located sources who
testified that the whereabouts of the cars were unknown and that they were
suspected of being employed for Oduah's private use. Meanwhile, Sahara
Reporters exposed the budgetary constraints the NCAA was operating under and
linked these to several air mishaps, including two crashes resulting in the
deaths of 140 people.
Oduah, who was already under fire for the NCAA’s poor performance,
initially denied the accusations. Within days, however, numerous news outlets
had picked up the story and run with it. The reports triggered a series of
reactions from the government, opposing political parties, civil society
organizations, and the Nigerian public. Earlier this year, Oduah was
fired.
Honorable Mentions
In recent years, I’ve been a judge for the human rights reporting awards
given out by the Overseas Press Club in New York. You should see the staggering
pile of entries. It takes days to read through them all. Our major
“problem”: an overabundance of top-notch reporting we’re unable to acknowledge
with prizes. (Happily, some of them received prizes anyway, just not from
us).
Among the remarkable pieces we read but didn’t give the human rights prize
to was an Associated Press series on the effects of narco-violence on ordinary
people in Honduras. It laid out the way they have been forced to flee
their villages or vacate neighborhoods block by block as drug dealers moved in
and took over their homes. The series described how some homeowners stopped
painting their houses or mowing their lawns lest they appeal to drug lords who
might seize them. People were even being shaken down by gangs that left notes
demanding payments if they wanted to be allowed to stay in their houses.
At the same time, the government was sowing misery of its own. As
part of the series, Alberto Arce wrote about a 15-year-old boy—the son of a
college professor—who went out one night to meet a girl he had friended on
Facebook only to be killed at a government roadblock by trigger-happy
soldiers.
This year, when the press started to cover the flood of children from
Central America crossing the US border, I thought back to that series and how
well it explained the kinds of desperate conditions that can lead to mass
migration.
Similarly unforgettable was the reporting of Cam Simpson at Bloomberg
Businessweek about the workers behind Apple’s iPhone 5. Migrants from
Nepal, they fell into debt paying middlemen for jobs assembling that smartphone
in factories in Malaysia. After Apple started rejecting the phones, production
was cut back and some 1,300 workers were left to fend for themselves for months
without food or pay. Since their passports had been taken from them, they were
unable to leave the country and essentially confined to a hostel, trying to
scrape together a bit of rice each day. Finally, in despair, they began rioting
and the Malaysian police were called in. Their response will seem odd indeed to
anyone reading recent reports from Ferguson, Missouri. Instead of
arresting the workers, the police had food delivered and went to work to get the
Nepalese sent home. (Still broke, many of them are likely to go further into
debt to again pay brokers to secure overseas jobs that may land them in
similarly dire straits.)
A third striking piece of global reportage was E. Benjamin Skinner’s “The
Fishing Industry’s Cruelest Catch.” It focused on the conditions
Indonesian migrant workers encounter fishing in the waters off New Zealand, for
New Zealand companies, aboard Korean boats. A report by academic
researchers Christina Stringer and Glenn Simmons, in collaboration with deep sea
fishing skipper Daren Coulston, prompted Skinner, a journalist specializing in
slavery, to spend six months in several different countries checking out their
allegations.
The result was a gripping story of modern day slavery. Indigent Indonesian
villagers were, he reported, misled into accepting contracts on vessels that ply
the Southern Pacific Ocean and Tasman Sea searching for fish to be sold to giant
American chains like Safeway, Walmart, and Whole Foods. Many of the Indonesians
thought they were signing on to first world labor conditions on modern New
Zealand-owned vessels. Once aboard, however, they found themselves virtual
prisoners, forced to work long hours for substandard food and beaten or
sometimes sexually assaulted when they tried to resist.
After various deductions were taken from their paychecks, the workers,
promised $12 an hour, ended up getting only about a dollar an hour. Not only was
Skinner’s story well-written and well-reported, but within months of its
appearance, New Zealand had moved to change its laws and Safeway, Whole Foods,
and Walmart began investigating their supply chains.
The Future of Global Muckraking
When I began researching my new book, Global Muckraking: 100 Years of
Investigative Journalism from Around the World, I assumed that the good old days
of investigative reporting were in the past. It was a surprise to learn just how
much high quality work is still being done around the planet. The amount of data
now available online, the ability of journalists to use the Internet to connect
to one another and share information—a major aid in cross-border reporting—and a
wave of new philanthropy have all helped fuel the current boom. In
addition, fresh news operations of every sort seem to be popping up, eager to
promote investigative reporting.
I thought I was well versed in innovative twenty-first century methods of
news funding when I headed into this project, but I continue to stumble upon
exciting experiments. For example, Morry Schwarz, a book publisher and
property developer from Melbourne, Australia, funds weekly, monthly, and
quarterly publications devoted to long-form writing on serious issues of the
day, while also running the publishing house Black Inc. Australian
philanthropist Graeme Wood, with money he made from an online business, founded
the Global Mail, a nonprofit website that was similarly aimed at promoting
long-form journalism. He also underwrites cross-border investigations via
the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists. In Brazil, João
Moreira Salles, scion of a prominent family enmeshed in the banking sector, has
used his money to found a monthly magazine, Piauí, whose recent issue included
an investigative piece about indigenous opposition to Belo Monte, a
hydroelectric plant under construction in Altamira in the Amazon region.
Moves toward democracy in many countries, along with the Arab Spring
(however short circuited it was) have also unshackled the global press in a
variety of ways. Compared to five, 10, or 20 years ago, Myanmar, Ghana, and
Tunisia, to take just three examples from many, have far freer—sometimes
remarkably freewheeling—media atmospheres. And what’s happening in countries
like those has had a knock-on effect on nearby states.
Of course, there are also democratically elected governments in countries
like Turkey, Ecuador, and Hungary that have been clamping down on free
speech. And from Syria to Ferguson, Missouri, many locales remain
dangerous for journalists. On balance, however, the press is ever less
under the thumb of government, a situation that only encourages investigative
reporting. To take two examples where the press has become at least
marginally harder to control thanks to social media, the Internet, and some
brave (or nervy) independent-minded journalists, consider China and Vietnam,
where once utterly closed media scenes are slowly being pried open.
The mass layoffs of older journalists around the world has had one benefit:
there are plenty of experienced hands ready to train the next generation and
provide institutional memory at innovative ventures. Some of these old-timers,
who aren’t busy teaching (or taking public relations jobs—but that’s a story for
another time), are busy founding and running nonprofits dedicated to doing
hard-driving, investigative reporting. These include: 100 Reporters, Global
Journalism Investigative Network, Forum for African Investigative
Reporters,Investigative Reporters and Editors, Investigative News Network,
SCOOP, and the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists. All
of these organizations are benefitting from experienced editors and reporters
downsized from traditional media outlets and committed to helping the next
generation—and learning from them, too.
No one can say how this wave of new reporting will continue to be funded in
the future, nor can I promise to be as cheery a decade from now as I am today
about investigative journalism’s prospects. Already some donors are
putting in place stipulations that might constrain future reporting—like
requiring publications to meet benchmarks offering proof of a story’s impact.
Still, if the history of investigative reporting in the United States has taught
us anything, it’s that outlets come and go, but the legacy of great
investigative reporting, the tradition that inspires future generations of
crusading journalists, endures.
It can take years for investigative journalism to make a difference and, in
the past, many of the most important outlets didn't make money and disappeared.
They were sometimes run by passionate crusaders who seized the moment, wrote the
stories, and then moved on. Everybody’s Magazine folded long ago, but
Upton Sinclair’s takedown of the scandalous Beef Trust, specifically Armour and
Co., in 1908 opened American eyes to the way meat was produced in this country.
Who remembers In Fact? But George Seldes's prescient 1941 exposé of the dangers
of cigarettes in the pages of that now-defunct publication has stood the test of
time. And while McClure’s, I.F. Stone’s Weekly, and Ramparts may be
increasingly distant memories, the effects of their investigative work ripple
all the way to the present.
And this isn’t peculiar to the United States.
Young journalists on their way up are being trained in a craft that,
history tells us, will outlast the death of any particular publication. Ory
Okolloh of the Omidyar Network regularly makes this point. She notes that after
the pioneering Nigerian newspaper Next234 went out of business, its reporters
and editors simply moved on to other media outlets in Africa, where they are
breaking important stories and training the next generation of reporters.
For investigative reporting, injustice is the gift that just keeps
giving. While so much of the business side of journalism remains in flux,
fine reporters with an investigative urge are finding ways to shine much needed
light into the parts of our global lives that the powerful would rather keep in
the shadows. These may be tough times, lean times, difficult times, but
don’t be fooled: they’re also boom times. There can be no question that,
if you’re a reader with access to the Internet, you’re living in a new golden
age of investigative journalism.
(theothernews)
Hakuna maoni:
Chapisha Maoni