Journalism
is different. It is not a science; it is too fast and
freewheeling to submit to the rigors of slow proof. Neither is it an
art, although there is art in it. Journalism, for better or worse, is
a craft -- occasionally noble, often vulgar, now and then shameful,
shoddy and cheap. But journalism at its best is touched with art, and
it is here that it is most interesting both to its practitioners and
its beneficiaries.
Journalism is also a thief. It steals from all other disciplines.
It owes a debt to history, science, business, government,
agriculture, sociology. The journalist must understand enough of
other disciplines to portray clearly the puzzle and tumult of the
world. The craft requires rigorous research, clear thinking and
artful presentations. The journalist must cultivate the gift of
analysis, of finding meaning in chaos. Then he or she must have the
imagination and creative talent to shape that meaning into a coherent
portrayal. Whether the portrayal is a newspaper report, an
advertisement, a promotional document, a television story or a radio
broadcast, the creation demands constant learning.
Teaching journalism calls first for an understanding of its
skills. Investigation of the media and their place in society is
worthwhile, but scholarly analysis should not be confused with the
craft itself. There is in journalism a stimulation, an intellectual
excitement, that can be attained only in a mastery of its skills. The
best journalist loves the intricacies of the craft -- the grasp,
phrasing and semi-colons of it -- in the same way that an engineer
loves structure or a painter loves color.
Some journalists may specialize, but most are generalists. They
must be able to grasp enough of all disciplines to interpret them to
a diverse and often inattentive audience. That means, for the serious
journalist, an unending curiosity about the world. It is this impulse
to learn -- more than that, this inability to keep from learning --
that impels the journalist to stand shivering on the other side of
the world drinking tea seasoned with rancid yak butter, or to sit all
night in semi-darkness turning dusty pages, swallowing aspirin and
coffee. That kind of devotion is possible only in the journalist who
has mastered the hard blue skills for the craft -- every headline, ad
and photograph, every shapely sentence of it. Those are the skills we
try to teach, and that is the devotion we try to inspire.