CSotD: I’m here to pick up my free government printing press
Skip to comments

One of the more frequent trials a newspaper editor faces is being polite to the person who has written an over-the-top, potentially libelous but certainly nonsensical letter to the editor and wants to know why it has not been published in the paper.
You don't have to ask if the person on the phone is actually the person who wrote the letter because the air of hysterical, delusional mission in the letter is mirrored in her scream of "What about my Freedom of the Press?"
And you try to explain that the First Amendment protects publishers, not private citizens. She is free to become a publisher — she can buy a press and print whatever she wants, or she can get her own blog at no cost and publish her opinions there.
But the newspaper has free press rights and that includes the right to decide what they're not going to print.
Which brings us to this week's story arc in Doonesbury. I don't see strips any sooner than anyone else in the public and don't know where the arc is headed, but editors who presumably have previewed the full series have made one of three decisions:
1. Run it as usual.
2. Move it from the comics page to the editorial page, but run it.
3. Run some innocuous alternative strips (reruns)
Those choosing Option #1 aren't getting a lot of attention, and I haven't heard a lot of blow-back over Option #2. It's Option #3 that is drawing "First Amendment" fire.
But this is not "censorship."
If a governor's office contacted all the newspapers in its state and ordered them not to publish this week's Doonesbury, that would be censorship. It would also be a violation of the First Amendment.
This, rather, is a case of a newspaper exercising its First Amendment freedom to not publish something it has chosen not to publish.
Those who are whining about Trudeau's freedom of press are just as ridiculous as those who have been whining about Rush Limbaugh's freedom of speech. But I would suggest that the people complaining in this case seem more apt to simply call the decision cowardly than unconstitutional.
Which it may be, depending on how they carry it out.
There are two factors at play.
One is that the newspaper is geographically, not demographically, defined.
That is, it is intended as a medium, not for a specific interest group, but for everyone who lives in a particular area, which includes a lot of different age groups and a lot of religious and ethnic groups, as well as a wide spectrum of educational attainment, political outlook and income level.
Teachers often ask what the reading level of the newspaper is, and the answer is "Which page?" because the features and news sections have a considerably lower reading level than the editorial page, with the sports page somewhere in the middle.
Similarly, although the entire paper is delivered to a household, there are entire sections that are skipped by some readers, depending on their age, gender, educational level and other personal factors.
Different pages, different rules. I remember the sports department of a major metro complaining that I had been permitted to use the word "bullshit" in a quote in the editorial section. They had to write around such language.
But kids read the sports section, and the sports writers ought to be grateful that they were permitted to refer to Randy Johnson as "The Big Unit" throughout his career. (Tee-hee, giggle giggle.)
And if kids are frequently drawn to the sports section, they are even more likely to read the comics page, where strips like "Garfield" and "Hagar the Horrible" provide a gateway, not just to comics but to the newspaper in general.
It's reasonable, then, for a paper to insist on a sort of PG atmosphere on the comics page. Kids don't have to understand everything on the page, but, theoretically, they ought not to be scandalized by what they see and read.
So, today, in "Judge Parker," an apparent former operative toting a shotgun has gotten the drop on a hired killer sent to rub her out. It's not kid stuff, but I know that, however it works out, it will not include a lot of F-bombs or anybody's brains spattered across the walls.
It's the same reason that a TV station would not schedule reruns of the Sopranos between episodes of "My Little Pony" and "Dora the Explorer." There's nothing wrong with the Sopranos but, wit' all doo respeck, you don't want the kids stumbling into it, so you schedule it when they likely won't.
Trudeau has said he does not like having his strip on the editorial page, but I think that's where it belongs. And having put it there, I would be disinclined to ask for alternative strips. If the kids do wander onto that page, they know that the strips and panels they see there are not apt to make sense to them and they glance and move on.
The second factor in all this is the contract between newspaper and reader.
The contract between cartoonist and newspaper is simple: They're giving the artist money to provide them with a cartoon every day. They can pay for it and use it, or they can pay for it and not use it, or they can cancel the contract. They're pretty stupid if they pay for it very often without using it, and, if a cartoon is often judged inappropriate for their audience, they usually cancel.
The implied contract between the newspaper and its readers is a little more nuanced, since it's not written down. It's a unilateral contract, with the reader in the driver's seat, but it has two phases.
Phase One is "If you will provide enough material that I find interesting, I will purchase your newspaper."
And once we've decided that we have a deal, Phase Two kicks in: "You need to keep your word."
Which is to say that, having bought the rights to "Doonesbury," you don't owe Garry Trudeau a platform. You do, however, owe me access to "Doonesbury." It's part of the package I have a right to expect.
Either cancel it entirely or run it consistently. But don't list it on the menu if you aren't going to put it on the table.
Which is why I find the approach of the Oregonian and a few others to be acceptably honest if not ideal: They explain why they are not running the strips in the print version of their paper, and they offer you a sort of rain check — they invite you to read it on-line and ask that you return next week when things will return to normal.
It'll do. We both know what they're doing, but at least they're not trying to convince me that it's raining.
Comments 8
Comments are closed.