Reporters can't do their jobs properly if no one dares talk to them | thearticle

Before the turn of the millennium, reporting was often a relatively straightforward affair. You used to ring someone up, ask for their reaction to something in the news, and add it to the

story. Bosses and most people with any authority would chat, on the grounds that any publicity was good. But slowly, over time, a number of shifts in attitudes have combined to create a

perfect storm that is having a sorry effect on straight reporting – and worse, potentially on policy-making. Factors include the invention of email and an increasing fear of saying what

could be interpreted by the public as “the wrong thing”. They have all led us to a point at which today it seems almost nobody in organisations dares say a word to a reporter. Staff and even

volunteers in companies and groups, big and small, have become schooled in a climate of fear of journalists and of getting authorisation that makes reporting stories 10 times slower and

more difficult. Journalists these days are asked to put virtually every request in writing. It’s easy to see why – details can be read at a glance more quickly than if written down by

someone on the other end of the phone. And an authentic email address weeds out anyone merely pretending to be a journalist. But from the media’s point of view, there is a big downside,

which is that it provides people with time to think, eliminating spontaneity. It’s also much easier to  decline to comment by email than over the phone. Last week I was reporting on

recommendations by the outgoing chief medical officer for England that food and drink be banned on urban public transport, and naturally wanted to get the views of transport and passenger

companies on such a move. One after another, the Campaign for Better Transport, the Rail Delivery Group, representing rail companies, the Confederation of Passenger Transport, for bus and

coach operators, and Transport Focus, representing passengers, came back to me (after a while), refusing to comment. Each responded with phrases a “this isn’t something we would comment on,”

and “We won’t be providing a comment on this occasion.” (As though they would do so on another occasion, though it’s hard to think of a more benign subject for them to talk about.) It

wasn’t as though I was asking for their operational secrets – in fact one might well have expected them to jump at the chance to put across their view. They might have said words to the

effect of “A ban would be inhumane because people may dehydrate or faint, and it would infringe people’s basic human rights”. Or they might have said, “Inflicting the sometimes pungent

smells of hot food on other passengers infringes the rights of everyone else and passengers have long demanded a ban.” If I have asked an organisation to respond to an issue that’s

irrelevant to their work, a no is fair enough. But that’s often not the case, and it means the public are being shortchanged. The press doesn’t just report the news, it facilitates deep and

informed debate; without full discussions, important decisions are made possibly without full knowledge of the arguments. Everywhere in our democracy decisions are made – from town councils

to Westminster and Holyrood and businesses and charities – by leaders influenced by public opinion. But this new lofty officialdom is compromising the ability of decision-makers to reach

balanced conclusions, when debate that once was rich and open is now increasingly routinely thinned out. Look at the comments sections and social media debates on issues of the day: they are

full of readers picking up on intelligent points made in the story, important subtleties not always obvious. But by drawing back from openness, companies are undermining full and honest

conversations about some of the issues that matter most. If this culture continues, we will end up with less well informed decisions and policy formulated on popularism rather than

rationale. Making a journalist’s job harder is neither here nor there – but not providing readers and the public with a full picture is self-serving and short-sighted.