Last Updated: May 26, 1999
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Freedom of information
Where CAR meets good storytelling
Using computers as a tool for researching isn’t enough
anymore; reporters need to be good storytellers to rise above the increasingly
common investigative reports
By Bill Gannon and Ted Sherman
On July 31, a wide-bodied Federal Express cargo jet made a perfectly
normal approach to runway 22-R at Newark International Airport after a
journey that took it halfway across the planet from the Far East to Anchorage,
Alaska, and finally to New Jersey.
The aircraft lined up, touched down and then moments later tumbled out
of control, exploding in a twisting spiral of flame and wreckage as it
scorched down the runway. Incredibly, all five people aboard walked away
unscathed.
Just what happened will take investigators months to determine, but
within hours, The Star-Ledger of Newark had more than just questions to
ask and pictures of the burning wreckage. The newspaper had a complete
service history of the jet and the safety record of the company. We knew
of an earlier incident in which the plane had pitched up on landing and
scraped the runway. There were aircraft service and crash reports of similar
problems with other aircraft.
Were we clever? No, not really. Unique? Hardly.
In fact, the reportorial efforts to get the FAA reports, the public
records and information tapped from electronic databases maintained by
the National Transportation Safety Board and a host of other online sources
really wasn’t so much special as it was simply routine these days.
There was a time when reporting like this was something special — the
paper trail less traveled and the sacred province of special projects writers.
Their time-laden investigative efforts meant an exhaustive search of records
to provide readers with the sort of precise story-telling in which deadlines
were measured in days or weeks, not hours.
No more.
Now, an exhaustive deadline search of official records to help tell
a story is what’s expected — a new industry standard — as public information
has become more accessible and is being used by reporters of all kinds.
From feature writers getting past the hot air to nailing down what sort
of perks a diva is getting from a state-financed opera company to sports
beat writers going after sweetheart contracts to general assignment reporters
handling whatever the daily news gods throw their way — public records
now form the foundation a more detailed form of journalism is built upon.
Philip Meyer, who pioneered the use of computers in journalism when
he analyzed survey data from riot-torn Detroit in 1967, noted, "There was
a time when all it took (to be a good journalist) was a dedication to truth,
plenty of energy, and some talent for writing. You will still need those
things, but they are no longer sufficient ... a journalist has to be a
database manager, a data processor and a data analyst."
But don’t let Professor Meyer’s comments throw you.
A desktop PC, some off-the-shelf software, basic computer-assisted reporting
training, free online search engines and nimble databases has made the
truth and trends that await us all in the crunching and exploration of
public records simpler than ever to discover.
In many ways, American newspapers have no choice but to learn how to
yank down these records as today more than 90 percent of U.S. cities maintain
their records in electronic databases.
The first step toward tapping into this virtual world of public records
involves learning where the information is and how to get at the commercial
databases, government Web sites, electronic court records, lists of campaign
contributions and all sorts of online transactions and data banks.
But after you get the records and crunch them into shape, you must make
sure you tell a story that will resonate with your readers.
Two years ago, for example, the Star-Ledger decided to comprehensively
examine patronage and nepotism in the governments of Newark and Essex County,
which are both tainted by histories of corruption and fiscal crisis.
There had long been talk that getting a job in city hall and the school
board came down to who you knew or made a political contribution to. At
the courthouse, there were references to "Joe’s uncle" or someone’s kid
getting on the payroll.
The story, we knew, was waiting in the payroll records, an obvious public
record. We just had to get it. County officials were cooperative, but when
we asked for the city’s payroll, officials claimed — straightfaced — that
what it paid its employees and who they were, was not on file anywhere.
Several months and a few court hearings later, we had the lists. The
very first name to pop up on the city hall payroll was the mayor’s son.
Searching the county list, meanwhile, revealed more than Joe’s uncle; we
found his cousin, his niece, a couple of kids and a nephew. And every single
member of the Newark school board — including the superintendent — had
at least one relative working in the schools.
After doing database work, we hit the streets, interviewing every official,
confirming every fact and relationship and searching for a narrative that
would help us use the data to report a story unlike any Star-Ledger readers
had ever read.
Eventually, we identified nearly 100 relatives of the top elected officials
in government jobs. The story ran over two days, generated more than 300
letters and phone calls, led to the elimination of more than a dozen county
patronage positions and prompted new restrictions on county hiring that
saved millions.
The problem, as ASNE members well know, is one of public records access
in the face of mounting public pressure to limit the release of such information.
In July, ASNE’s Right to Know Week project drew attention to the public’s
right to access, and the increasing diminishment of those rights. It was
a welcome move given that public sentiment appears stacked against us.
That same month, an Associated Press poll found that Americans overwhelmingly
believe privacy is more important than access to public records, 86 percent
to 8 percent. In the same poll, 55 percent said the public should deny
access to a reporter trying to expose wrongdoing.
This is all familiar turf to reporters in New Jersey. A recent study
by the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press ranked the Garden State
as one of the worst when it came to gaining access to public records.
In the case of the FedEx crash, it was federal records, not state records,
that Star-Ledger reporters were able to use to produce compelling deadline
reporting and writing in which readers got the benefit of a whole new kind
of journalism done around here these days: Computer-assisted storytelling.
Bill Gannon and Ted Sherman are special projects reporters at The
Star-Ledger of Newark, N.J.
