Press in the Museum

A new museum is opening its doors this week in Washington: the Newseum, or the Press Museum. It is a cube made of glass and metal, which the architect wanted to be transparent (like democracy).

The façade has the form of a giant screen. The first 45 words of the Constitution’s First Amendment are recorded on a marble page 22 meters tall. The First Amendment dates from 1791. For the first time, a government recognized the concept of freedom of the press.

The Newseum chose to open its doors during the peak of the Washington tourist season, when Japan’s cherry trees are in full bloom and when school children come from all over the country to learn about their presidents and institutions. It is located on Pennsylvania Avenue, between the White House and the Capitol. It claims the first amendment well, and it is difficult for it to conform line of national monuments.

It is a lot like the Disneyland of news: a helicopter suspended 20m above the ground, a “wall of videos” 27m long, three-dimensional projections. And unlike the Smithsonian Institution museums, it is not free (even if the foundation that runs it, Freedom Forum, is a non-profit organization). Entry is 20 dollars, like its neighboring Spy Museum, constructed in the same vein, half glorification of the CIA, half amusement for children.

The Newseum understands itself to be a forum in which the public and the media could attain “a better understanding of one another.” To this end, it presents 6,214 useful objects. This includes everything from a armored car used by Time Magazine in Bosnia to Daniel Pearl’s computer, the journalist from the Wall Street Journal assassinated in Pakistan, and passing by a piece of the antennae from the north tower of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, or the turquoise slippers from one of the first blog stars, Wonkette. In 2004, the blogger’s art was named “journalism in pajamas” (hence the slippers). Now, blogs belong instead to sweatshops on the Indian subcontinent. Hellish hours, little pay: on Sunday, the New York Times warned of a series of heart attacks among blog writers…

Recent errors in the media are presented with much delicacy by the Newseum. The most ridiculous headlines, collected by the prestigious review from Columbia’s journalism school, were written in the bathroom stalls.

And three mini-films summarize the question of anonymous sources, confabulations, and factual problems (“the ones that exasperate most people: when no one can spell their name correctly”). Commentaries are narrated by stars in the national press, who give proof of their habitual professionalism. The for, the against: everyone is placed on equal footing (and no one has an edge). The project, which cost 450 million dollars, is largely financed by the media itself. The major patrons (New York Times, Bloomberg, Time Warner) have rooms in their name.

The course of the war from 2002 to 2003 is treated as if it was only a problem of sources and not the manifestation of a general absence of critical spirit during a time of patriotic enthusiasm. Judith Miller, a New York Times investigator, has written much on Saddam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction, the subject of a short film, “When anonymous sources are wrong.” That is all there is on Iraq, except for consulting the interactive databank that accompanies the wall where the names of journalists killed during their missions are written (1800 killed since 1837). Around one hundred Iraqis are included.

The Newseum also has an “ethics center.” It is an entertainment area. One can play the journalist with ethical questions. The visitor must respond to questions asked on a screen. One has to answer quickly, or lose endorsement: “You’re scooped!” Another scoop lost. A colleague grilled you. Some examples. “A hold up occurred. The editor wants to send you to the location. But your babysitter is in the list of suspects. Do you tell your boss?” Response: yes, that would be best. It’s a typical case of conflict of interest. Another example: “A rock star cancels a concert because of a sore throat. You learn that the true reason is that he drank too much. Your agent doesn’t want you to soil his reputation. What do you do?” If you decide not to publish, you are incorrect. “The public expects you to state the truth.”

Or take the mayor, for example. Someone filmed him with his cell phone when he was singing a silly song. It was during a private evening alone. It does not matter, you can release it without worry: “The mayor is always a public person.” On the other hand, if the police commissioner’s children say that their father often says that journalists should go to hell, this should not be published. “Children cannot be held accountable for their remarks.”

But if a well-known actor gets in his limousine and lights a cigarette when he just filmed an anti-tobacco campaign, stand strong. “He is a public figure in a public place.” No pity. One must not confuse ethics and the individual.