BEGINNING WITH THE BIRCHBARK CANOES of the First Nations, exploring the interior of this continent, to the satellites in orbit transmitting news from Victoria to Signal Hill, Iqaluit to Thetford Mines, vehicles for communicating information across this country have always been a national concern.
It is a daunting challenge, one not to be taken lightly.
Neither the journalist that I was, who practised your profession with an unwavering commitment to the truth, nor the governor general I have become, who passionately follows debates of social interest, underestimates the task before you. As such, I would like to begin with a question that I feel is at the very heart of your day-to-day work: in today’s modern world, to what extent does journalism have a civic responsibility?
Allow me to tell you a little about my personal background. I grew up in a country where journalists were imprisoned or even murdered. The slightest remark spoken against Duvalier’s regime was punishable by death. Any attempt to inform the public of the rampant abuses of power meant your own destruction. You could be killed without a second thought, simply for saying too much. And the burden of silence, too heavy to bear, would eat away at you from the inside.
No doubt you can understand the shock I felt when, after spending years living in Canada, where free speech is an inalienable right, I returned to my country of birth in 1987 to take part in the filming of a documentary for the National Film Board on the first free elections in Haiti. Our objective was to follow the work of Radio Haïti Inter journalists, who had managed to create a space for resistance and helped to affirm a kind of collective awareness that led to the fall of Duvalier’s regime in 1986.
In a poor country, where most people are illiterate and far more likely to have access to a transistor than a television, radio becomes a medium of monumental importance. It was radio that mobilized Haitians to rise up and topple the dictatorship and led to emancipation and the fight for basic rights, beginning with free speech.
No small feat. I will never forget the façade of Radio Haïti Inter, riddled with bullets. Every mark on that wall represented an attack on those who dared to speak out, a stark reminder of the daily threat to their lives, the very real possibility of execution. Jean-Dominique, one of the founders and editor-in-chief of the radio station, was gunned down in the station’s courtyard. No one has ever answered for that crime.
Without a doubt, to be a journalist in Haiti is to risk one’s life. Generally speaking, they manage with virtually no resources, scraping by on a pittance for a salary. And yet they work with such passion, hand in hand with those courageous enough to let their voices be heard over the airwaves. Every one of them driven by a need to emerge at long last from under the heel of barbarism and the burning desire to see free speech arise from the ashes of tyranny with the birth of a new democracy.
In Haiti, I learned such valuable lessons about what journalism could embody. It was then, as I watched those women and men willing to risk everything in the name of justice and freedom, that I came to understand what journalism could be.
Those journalists were not satisfied with simply informing; they wanted to provoke thought, to encourage the public to form its own opinion after decades of censorship. In 1987, their role was even more vital as they worked to prepare citizens to exercise their fundamental democratic rights and cast their ballots. To go to the polls as though reborn.
Voter turnout was phenomenal – over 80% – due in large part to the work of the journalists. But now let me remind you of what followed: Duvalierist militias, on seeing the winds of change, swept through the polling stations and massacred hundreds of voters. In the escalating terror, beginning two days before the elections, journalists were the first to be targeted; initially, the local journalists, but foreign teams as well, including ours.
I returned to Canada, where the resources at our fingertips far outnumber and are more powerful than those of our Haitian colleagues, and brought with me the absolute conviction that journalism is the very expression of civic responsibility; it is so much more than a simple career plan.
A responsibility that consists in inspiring as many people as possible to think about the issues in our society. In opening hearts by opening eyes. In tirelessly seeking to shed light on what remains in the shadows. In giving a voice to those who often go unheard. The responsibility of breaking the devastating cycle of indifference and solitudes.
I believe strongly in a journalism that embraces our capacity for thought. The very antithesis of sensationalism, relentlessly thrust upon us, continuously pushing us farther away from our own minds, reducing thought to little more than a sad, endless distraction. As though the name of the game were to entertain at all costs – which is, after all, where the money is – and to think as little as possible. The unfortunate conclusion is that thinking is too demanding, while entertaining is far more profitable.
And perhaps therein lies the most urgent responsibility for the media as the 21st century dawns: to re-establish the freedom and means to think about the world, even when that requires effort, rather than give in to the temptation of info-shows, take the easy road, spread gossip, which may be an outright lie, or fall for the cult of personality. We must do away with such one-track thinking and offer up new ways of seeing the world. That is what it means to be a journalist. And that is why I have the utmost respect for your profession.
Because to my mind, journalism does not consist merely in reporting the news to the public; it also gives the public a better understanding of a world that is becoming increasingly complex with each passing day and may at times seem incomprehensible, with no reference points, no ideas, and no analyses. To truly inform others is to refuse to allow the news to become a product, a commodity, a profit; it means making the news a tool to explore the world around us, to discover it, to understand it. We are more susceptible to powerlessness and fatalism when we do not understand.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not naïve, and the experience I gained from journalism in newsrooms taught me this, sometimes the hard way. I know that things are not always easy. Of all the difficulties facing the media these days, I find three to be particularly troubling. And I could not hope for better company than you in which to touch on these issues. After all, as journalists, you have to face these challenges on a daily basis.
Many of you have talked to me about this, and I think this is a good opportunity for us to continue the dialogue.
And so, let us begin by considering the market-driven logic bearing down like a tidal wave on news organizations. Of course, these businesses must ensure their financial viability and turn a profit to keep pace with supply and demand. But the danger comes when selling copy at all costs or getting better ratings becomes their only rationale.
To this I would add when sensationalism takes the place of professionalism. When readership becomes the measure of success over the substance of the information reported. When ratings, circulation and ad revenues alone determine the standards of conduct. When, in the absolute worst-case scenario, misinformation passes for truth and becomes fact.
And yet I am absolutely convinced that what is most unique and, if you will pardon the expression, most noble about journalism is that it has an inherent duty to remember, contextualize and understand. But as soon as profitability gains the upper hand over accuracy, entertainment triumphs over reason, lies over truth, and the very ethics of information are at risk, threatened. One cannot practise this profession with integrity without accepting this responsibility.
Or, at the very least, without weighing the consequences when encouraged to work faster, take the easy road, or follow others blindly. Let’s not kid ourselves – it is easier, and certainly more profitable, to simply latch on to a rumour rather than dig beneath the surface. Resisting this temptation requires almost constant vigilance that honours the profession and all those who practise it.
And now more than ever, journalists must move away from the contemptuous attitude that only a happy few are actually interested in thinking, that in-depth reporting doesn’t sell, that people just don’t want to have to think.
This independence of thought, so hard won, too often just a dream in many of the world’s hot spots, is still so very fragile, even in our most evolved democracies. It is begging for the commitment of journalists and press agencies so that it can in turn give rise to civic engagement.
The second threat is the one-track thinking emerging from the concentration of media and the race to secure a slice of the market pie. Not only is local news falling between the cracks, much to the public’s chagrin, but the long-term consequences of seeing things in the same way, of reporting the world in the same voice, are also hampering the free flow of ideas and preventing the diversity of content.
The result is media space that is one sided, monotonous, lifeless. We must stem this terrible tide before our knights errant find themselves tilting at windmills.
As members of the press, you must be thinking the same thing, wondering how you can protect and stimulate the richness of civic thought if you are asked to repeat the same news, the same point of view, even the same rumour, often in the same way, from one media to the next. Why condemn yourselves to repetition? To expect nothing more is to accept that there is no other possible vision.
We all know the extremes of one track thinking. We have seen the brutal results under totalitarian regimes over the past century.
How can a journalist search for meaning, take us to the very depths of this world, tell the stories that need to be told, if there is nowhere where he or she is free to think? This is a serious question, one that I am sure many of you have asked yourselves, and one that has much to do with the democratic health of our societies.
We live in a complex world, where the press and the media can serve as both a mirror and a magnifying glass. If they do little more than reflect the same frozen image, if they do not teach us to really see the world around us, they will become less and less relevant to us. Little more than funhouse mirrors. It is up to you to make information a vehicle for free thought, and it is up to us to use it to participate more fully in our societies.
Finally, let us consider the danger of simplification and the time you need – which you are often denied – to avoid it. I said recently to a group of journalists gathered in Montreal to celebrate World Press Freedom Day that under this steady stream of news washing over us, sweeping us along, the complexity of life can begin to erode.
Yet it falls to journalists to help us to better grasp this complexity, which is never black or white – how can it be? It falls to journalists to lead us back when we have lost our way. It falls to journalists to guide us as we try to understand the world. It falls to journalists to stand firm and to make their workspace a place of resistance.
Make no mistake: to uphold this responsibility fully, with insight and awareness, you must refuse to be hurried.
I’ll say it again: such contemplation takes time, something you are often denied when profitability and speed drive this business and the news cycle churns out information twenty-four hours a day. What a tragedy!
The entire profession is suffering because of it, as are our fellow citizens, who can no longer see the possibilities that give meaning to the deafening roar of news, which has become little more than sound bites and background noise.
I urge you not to give in to the demands of machines that produce and market information. It is the shades of meaning that make life so rich, so intense, so precious. We may find life so bewildering because we no longer stop to think about it, really think about it.
Remember that speed is not synonymous with efficiency; no more than taking the time to pause and reflect is indicative of a slow mind.
These are the issues I wanted to talk to you about tonight, as a friend, a former colleague, a citizen. The work that you do, day after day, night after night, is not like any other out there. This is why I feel so strongly about it.
I am reminded of the ancient Oracle at Delphi, consulted by people from miles around for a glimpse into the future. Don’t worry: I have no intention of turning you into modern day oracles. Let’s just say the image appeals to me.
Because the way you present the world, in newspapers, on the radio, and on TV
, guides us when we feel overwhelmed, shining like a beacon when the road ahead is uncertain.
The more methodical, thoughtful, nuanced your view of the world, the more our own will be informed, enriched, inspired. This is the responsibility we all share. We must remind ourselves of this always and, as needed, change what we are doing to what we could be doing, or better still, to what we should be doing.
Her Excellency the Right Honourable Michaëlle Jean Speech gave the above speech in Halifax last week as the keynote speaker at the Canadian Press Dinner.
