Once the primary season begins this spring, the airwaves will be swamped with political advertising underwritten by corporations looking to promote their favorite pol. As if that weren’t bad enough, you can expect even more ads trashing candidates opposed by corporations.  Plan on buying spare “mute” buttons for your remote.

(This isn’t intended to be an anti-corporation diatribe, but the Supreme Court opinion legally just applied to corporations, even if the federal campaign law overturned applied to both corporations and unions.  Once companies start spending, expect the unions to quickly join the fray.)

Thanks to Supreme Court Justices Kennedy, Roberts, Scalia, Thomas and Alito, our system of electing candidates will change drastically, at least until the Court shifts back towards the center.

The 5-4 Citizens United decision told corporate America that it was open season on buying, or burying, candidates for public office.  Until that vote, corporate treasuries were largely forbidden fruit.  Corporate officers, corporate board members and certainly shareholders could spend their own money – giving it directly to candidates (in limited amounts, but no limit on the number of candidates) or spending it to support candidates indirectly virtually without limit.

Of course, rich people have always been able to spend more money on the process than poor people.  Congress tried to level that playing field 35 years ago, but the Supreme Court vetoed spending limits in an earlier campaign finance reform bill.

Now, reversing a 1990 decision that had limited for-profit corporations from using their treasuries to back candidates, the majority has decided that the free speech guarantee of the First Amendment does not allow discrimination based on the identity of the speaker. Read: People spending money is the same as people speaking and corporations are people, too.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Court’s majority is wrong on all three points.

First, the Court has upheld limits on speech based on the identity of the speaker on numerous occasions.  Students in school have been punished for their speech and the Court has said that’s okay in the interest of maintaining a sound educational system.  Public employees have their political participation limited and the Court has said that’s okay to protect them from unwarranted pressures from their elected employers. Prisons are full of people with very limited free speech rights because, well, they’re prisoners and don’t deserve better.

Second, spending money is something I’m familiar with. Speech is not required. Spending and speaking are separate, distinct and often unrelated acts.  I’ll grant that the Court has sometimes found non-speech acts protected as a form of speech under the First Amendment, such as burning a flag or a draft card. Even mostly nude dancing is acceptable as expressive, non-verbal speech, provided that the speaker wears pasties and a g-string.  But the idea that simply spending money is protected by the First Amendment makes me wonder about these justices who profess to a narrow, non-interpretive reading of the Constitution.

Finally, corporations are NOT people.  If they were, we would have senators not just from Microsoft, but GE, GM, Google and Disney. (I suspect we already have some senators, not to mention justices, from Disney.)

Corporations are created by the state. GE was not the result of G and E hooking up. Corporations have no political goals. The people who run them do and many are paid well enough to spend their own big bucks on political campaigns.

But the fact that a corporation has a legal status, can own property and sue other corporations or even real people, does not make it right that, with all their advantages over “real” people, they should horn in on the political process.

Corporations get tax breaks that “real” people do not. Corporations “live” forever. Some of them amass staggering amounts of money because of the advantages that the state gives them. The people who run them and invest in them are given substantial immunity from legal liability if something goes sour.

Understand, I do not believe corporations are evil.  They were created because they help the economy. They create jobs. They do lots of good things.

But that doesn’t mean they should get the same political rights that “real” people have.

The footage of Kumaritashvili’s forceful accident is blurry but the speed and impact of the crash are apparent and it’s easy to conjure the horror. Because viewers can imagine the gruesome details and the fatal outcome was known, journalists and viewers are rightly asking why the video was shown repeatedly in the hours and days immediately after the accident. (NOTE: By Feb. 14, two days after Kumaritashvili’s death, NBC News President Steve Capus had ordered that the luge video not be shown without his permission. The video is still available online.)

So what is the value, or journalistic purpose, of showing the fatal luge accident video?

There really is no good reason to rebroadcast the video once it had been shown as part of timely, breaking news coverage. There are, however, defensible reasons why it could and should have been shown, one time, in first reports of the fatality.

It happened. Video of the accident shows the speed and potential danger of the luge track and the risk to Olympic athletes. The video helps tell viewers what could have happened.

It may explain, perhaps only partially, how the accident happened. The International Olympic Committee said immediately afterward that there was nothing wrong with the luge track itself, blaming human error (essentially the dead Kumaritashvili.) Since then, questions have been raised about course design and possible economic pressures in locating and building the luge track. The Wall Street Journal published information on Feb. 20 that there were earlier concerns about the track.

It puts the shocking outcome into perspective, providing some clues as to why the crash occurred when the racer was an Olympic athlete prepared for this level of competition.

Having broadcast the video as part of the news on Friday, however, it should have been shelved immediately. Even though it took a while, NBC was right to stop showing it. The video is ghastly and rebroadcasting it merely plays into inordinate curiosity.

Much like the controversial video of Virginia Tech shooter Seung-Hui Cho, the luge crash video is sickening, but important. NBC had a responsibility to document what happened and provide that documentation for viewers. Having fulfilled that responsibility and identified a timely journalistic purpose, it is no longer appropriate to show it.

(For another discussion about broadcasting the fatal luge video, see this essay by Poynter’s Al Tompkins.

From the Supreme Court of Ohio and Ohio Judicial System web site

Craig Wright, the former Ohio Supreme Court justice who died last week, was a piece of work.

He could recall the details of an opinion he had written years ago but lose a set of legal briefs while walking 50 feet from the Supreme Court bench to the justices’ conference room.

A rock-ribbed Republican who never met a bank appeal he didn’t like, Wright was still able to persuade me, a lifelong, bleeding-heart Democrat, to take a leave from my teaching post to serve as his law clerk.

That was 1991, seven years after we first met, when he was a candidate for his first term on the court, and I was managing editor of the Akron Beacon Journal.

In 1984, Wright was running with Andy Douglas, trying to wrest control of the high court from a 6-1 Democratic majority run by then-Chief Justice Frank Celebrezze. Craig and Andy both won and two years later, Tom Moyer beat Celebrezze, shifting control to the GOP that it has maintained ever since.

The Beacon Journal endorsed both Wright and Douglas because the paper had problems with the way Celebrezze was running the court and because Wright and Douglas voiced substantial support for the First Amendment and access to public records, issues dear to the paper.

Craig and I stayed in touch after I left the Beacon Journal for Kent State in 1986. He spoke to my media law classes on occasion and served on media law panels at the state bar association at my invitation.

We also argued politics regularly, mostly because he was plugged into the state Republican Party apparatus and told great stories about the maneuvering within the GOP.

Craig consistently supported the news media in libel and access cases, but he was a staunch conservative on most issues. That was foremost in my mind when he asked me to be his law clerk in the fall of 1990. Craig assured me that I didn’t have to write any opinion that went against my personal beliefs. To my surprise, in cases where I thought we might be at odds, he and I were on the same side. In a search-and-seizure case, he voted against the prosecution and urged me to write a vigorous dissenting opinion. (Dissents were always more entertaining to write than the staid, carefully phrased majority opinions.)  In the only capital case he got while I was his clerk, he was able to persuade four of his colleagues to reverse the death penalty. He was as fervent a supporter of defendants’ rights as he was of the First Amendment.

Legal philosophy aside, I was uncertain about accepting his offer. Most clerks were young lawyers, fresh out of law school. At 47, I was generationally challenged. Worse, I was 14 years out of law school and light years away from legal research.

Craig didn’t care.

“I like clerks who know how to write,” he said. “The rest will come back to you.”

And it did. I wrote four majority opinions and eight dissents in my six months at the court. It was like going back to law school. But the most memorable aspects of those six months had little to do, directly, with the work of the state’s highest court.

For example, the complex legal issues I confronted could not match the thrill of going to lunch with Craig. He always drove – some full-size tank provided by the state. At the time, the Court was in the Rhodes Tower, and the parking garage was in a sub-basement, with a narrow, twisting driveway to the main parking garage beneath the Statehouse.

He never “shifted” gears in the usual sense. He hammered that poor gearshift lever, first throwing the car into reverse and then flinging it into drive.

Craig drove at one of two speeds, regardless of location: fast and faster. We’d go flying up the ramp, and I’d brace myself for the impact I was sure was coming when we careened into the main parking area and roared toward the exit to the surface. This in a parking garage full of moving cars and pedestrians.

Stories of Craig’s driving were legendary. Once, he had a lunch date in an office complex on the north end of downtown where parking was minimal. So he took one of his clerks to drive the car back to the court and wait for a pickup call.

When they arrived at the complex, with the car in the middle lane of four-lane-wide North High Street, Craig stopped the car, leaving it gear, got out and walked through traffic to his appointment. The startled clerk lunged across the seat and managed to reach the brake before the car hit anything.

His absent-mindedness was equally renowned, especially when it came to the paperwork that flooded the office.

On a regular basis, clerical workers arrived with a cart loaded with legal briefs. These were the “jurisdictionals,” the term used for appeal requests from lower-court losers.

They came by the hundreds, and some justices had their clerks write memos on every one, outlining the issues and recommending whether the case should be accepted.

Not Craig. He knew the kinds of cases he wanted to hear and those that he didn’t. He could whip through a “jurisdictional,” (usually several pages long) in a few minutes and decide immediately whether the issue was worth hearing (though it took four votes to accept a case, so his decision wasn’t the final say).

The problem wasn’t his preferred approach to reading the appeals.

The problem was he lost them.  Regularly. He always took the papers home to read. We had a half-dozen battered briefcases in the office that the other clerk and I stuffed full of appeals for Craig to take home.

But first, we carefully logged each one against the master list, so we’d know what he had been given. We always got two sets and kept one carefully tucked away as insurance. We got used to searching the briefcases, his car and his office for a missing “jurisdictional” before giving him one of the insurance copies.

The appeals that got four votes led to the real work of the court, writing opinions, an adventure in its own right. Craig would return from the conference where the cases were decided and dump a set of briefs on my desk with the announcement: “We drew this one. It’s yours.”

After a vote on a case, those in the majority placed a numbered “pill” in a leather bottle. The judge whose pill rolled out first was assigned to write the majority opinion.

Craig demonstrated considerable faith in his clerks’ ability to write coherent opinions. He didn’t hover or nitpick. The problem was his editing.

Usually he just added a “clearly,” or an “arguably” to a draft. The other clerk and I could always tell because “clearly” had fewer illegible swoops than “arguably.” But every so often, we’d get a draft back with extensive, dreaded, handwritten inserts. Sometimes, they looked suspiciously like a whole sentence.

If there was anything to the theory that the sharper the mind, the worse the handwriting, Craig was a genius. His penmanship consisted of a series of low-slung loops punctuated by the occasional swirl. Worse, because he couldn’t read his handwriting any better than we could, he got annoyed if we asked him to interpret.

Ignoring a change wasn’t an option, either. He might not be able to read what he’d written, but he could remember the change if it weren’t in the final draft.

Hard to believe nearly 20 years have passed since those days. I’ll always be grateful for the opportunity Craig gave me to be part of the legal system that few lawyers get to see. I will miss the political arguments, the legal debates, the mind and the man.

Doug Opling, managing editor of the Akron Beacon Journal contributes to the conversation at the 2009 Poynter KSU Media Ethics Workshop

The fifth annual Poynter KSU Media Ethics Workshop (Sept. 17, 2009) looked critically at online journalism ethics. Participants heard from Josh Marshall, editor and publisher of Talking Points Memo.com; Kelly Golnoush Niknejad, founder and editor of TehranBureau.com; and Dan Gillmor, professor and author of “We the Media: Grassroots Journalism by the People, for the People.” Ethics faculty members from The Poynter Institute interviewed these online innovators and facilitated debate among speakers, live audience members and participants who joined the Workshop via live stream or Twitter.

The 2009 Poynter KSU Media Ethics Workshop gets underway

A session packed with practical advice was titled “When the News Finds You on Social Networks.” Speakers included Steve Fox of the Online News Association; Ed Esposito of WAKR radio in Akron; Eric Mansfield of WKYC-TV in Cleveland and Denise Polverine, editor of cleveland.com, who talked about finding the balance of speed, completeness and accuracy in the age of Twitter and Facebook. Drew Curtis of Fark.com and Alan Miller of The Columbus Dispatch wrapped up the workshop discussing “The Nitty Gritty Beyond Traditional Journalism.”

The 2009 Workshop, like the Workshop the year before, focused entirely on online ethics in a marketplace exploding with information options. For more information about the 2009 “What Values?” Media Ethics Workshop, including complete archives and video highlights Click HERE .

to get new hearings in Columbus. Predictably, police and law enforcement groups support Patton’s bill to fine the media $10,000 for broadcasting 9-1-1 calls on air or online. First Amendment advocates such as the Ohio Newspaper Association and the Ohio Broadcasters Association oppose it.

Patton says, without proof, that broadcasting 9-1-1 tapes on radio, television or online makes crime witnesses reluctant to call police. He said he would commission a study to validate this claim. But Patton doesn’t need a lengthy and expensive study. He needs open dialog with journalists and the public in which all sides strive for tolerance and transparency. Tolerance on the part of the public and transparency on the part of the media.

Whether to use a 9-1-1 call is almost always an ethical dilemma for news

organizations. It’s true that calls can be frantic and disturbing when people report crime or trauma. But calls also reveal acts of heroism, like those of children who dial 9-1-1 to save incapacitated adults or dispatchers who help deliver babies. Callers who are emotional or distraught may contend that rebroadcasting their pleas is an invasion of privacy. Journalists, meanwhile, are saddled with the decision to air 9-1-1 calls conscientiously or not at all. But using tapes, even the most horrifying recordings, is preferable to banning them altogether. When taxpayer-supported services operate in secrecy, it’s the public that suffers.

To ease the disconnect between the audience and the media, journalists should explain how and why they’re using 9-1-1 tapes. These tapes add detail and perspective and help people understand how emergency responders do their jobs. Journalists should also cite responsible decision making in similar situations. For example, the names of rape victims and child suspects are now public record, yet most responsible media do not routinely report them. Public record also contains the names of suicide victims, yet most of these are not the subjects of stories. In fact, using suicide information is similar to using 9-1-1 tapes in that only those deemed newsworthy are reported. If journalists tell their audiences why a 9-1-1 call is newsworthy; that is, if they are transparent about their motives, journalists should be able to allay concerns without the need for legislation.

Take the case of Karla Gutierrez, a 32-year-old Florida woman who apparently fell asleep while driving in Florida in 2001. Her car landed in a roadside canal. Gutierrez called 9-1-1, calmly at first but later panic-stricken, saying many times: “My car is sinking.” For three-and-a-half agonizing minutes, 9-1-1 dispatchers tell her to stay calm. They do not tell her how to get out of a sinking vehicle. By the time police located tire marks and then the car under 30 feet of water, Gutierrez had drowned. The 9-1-1 recording of her call was available to the media that same day and at least one local television station

used big parts of it. Hearing the tape prompted public calls for better training for dispatchers.

That’s a good reason to use a 9-1-1 tape, though it undoubtedly was painful for Gutierrez’s family.

Without broadcasting such calls, no one would be held accountable for errors in dispatching or inadequate training. With public safety at stake, shouldn’t journalists broadcast or post 9-1-1 calls to help dispatchers and emergency personnel do their jobs? Or do their jobs better? Hearing how dispatchers respond to calls for help could prompt improved training or increased funding for emergency services.

According to the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press, already more than a dozen states ban broadcasting 9-1-1 calls. Patton acknowledges that the calls are public record. He says they would remain public and that transcripts would still be available. But most people won’t seek these out on their own. Newspapers could still print transcripts, of course, but reading dialog isn’t the same as hearing it: urgency and emotion are lost.

Journalism practitioners recognize that it is the media’s responsibility to be

careful when using tapes of emergency recordings. That ethical responsibility must be left to the media. To legislate the use of 9-1-1 calls represents a serious erosion of free speech and free press rights. Journalists make difficult ethical decisions about whether to use sensational material because they understand that access to public records carries with it a significant level of responsibility and an equal level of public discomfort. The alternative, privatizing public records and punishing journalists, could present even more problems for the very public that denounces their use.

For the full story click HERE

The temporary restraining order obtained by the Ohio Education Association expires Nov. 30. Check the Media Law Center web site for updates. Judge Dan Hogan in Franklin County is expected to hear the case before then.

A furious Defense Secretary Robert Gates has upbraided The Associated Press for its decision to go against the wishes of a young Marine’s family and publish a photograph of him after he was killed…

The NY Times piece details the AP’s decision-making process and how they came to the decision to release the package, which included several other photos, stories and a diary of events written by the photographer.

The Akron Beacon Journal ran the story on the front page on Friday, Sept. 4, but with a less controversial photo. They ran the contested photo on page A4, smaller but in color. The following day, Saturday, Sept. 5, the ABJ ran the AP story about the photo and the debate on page A6. They also included information about how they made the decision to use the story and photo.

New York model Liskula Cohen originally filed the defamation suit and ordered Google to reveal the identity of the anonymous blogger who called Cohen a “skank” and a “ho” in a blog post. To the surprise of many, Google complied.
Very few comments from Google can be found online, but a story from Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post linked on the Houston Chronicle’s Web site contained one small look into Google management’s thinking.

“Outraged, the blogger, revealed as Rosemary Port, is launching a $15 million lawsuit against Google for disclosing her identity. Google’s Andrew Pederson said that while his company sympathizes with victims of cyber-bullying, “We also take great care to respect privacy concerns and will only provide information about a user in response to a subpoena or other court order.”

To me, this says there is no protected speech on the Internet if you’re affiliated with Google. Pederson’s comment seems a contradiction.

“…in the absence of quantifiable defamation, anonymity deserves protection. As Google and the courts slug it out, Cohen did manage to BOLD-italicize an oft-ignored lesson: Think before you type.
Or else someone may want more than a penny for your thoughts.”

In terms of what this means for anonymous speech online, the NY Times’ “Ethicist” posted a piece to his blog recently regarding the name-calling case.

He asks the question: “Has anonymous posting, though generally protected by law, become so toxic that it should be discouraged?” He concludes that is has.

“To promote the social good of lively conversation and the exchange of ideas, transparency should be the default mode. And that goes both for lofty political discourse and casual comments on Amazon.’’

He also puts forth a “guideline” saying: “The effects of anonymous posting have become so baleful that it should be forsworn unless there is a reasonable fear of retribution. By posting openly, we support the conditions in which honest conversation can flourish.”
He does agree that this approach is a break from the traditions of protected anonymous speech, on which our nation was founded.

“What has not altered is the importance of the free exchange of ideas. Ethics urges us to act in ways that promote this social good which, except when facing a genuine threat, means writing with civility and signing your name.”

Mark Goodman, professor and Knight Chair in Scholastic Journalism at Kent State University’s School of Journalism and Mass Communication, is the former director of the national Student Press Law Center in Arlington, Va. Goodman said though he had not seen the original court documents, “courts should not be forcing the revelation of anonymous blog posters over childish name-calling. Libel is another matter. The question hereby is whether referring to someone as a “skank” in this context is more than the trash-talking that is a regular occurrence on playgrounds and in locker rooms and rises to the level of libel. This court thought it was but I’m not so sure I agree…”

Goodman also said the case is a reminder to everyone “who naively believes that the anonymity of their online postings will be protected: They won’t be, especially if you libel someone.”

Liskula dropped the suit and in comments made by her lawyer acknowledges that her suit only managed to bring more attention to Port’s site.

The SFGate.com site voices a concern that many probably have regarding the incident.

“So it looks like STNBAB (Rosemary Port) is about to be sued for defamation, libel, and anything else Liskanka — err, Liskula’s attorneys can dig up. Bad news for him/her, but potentially worse news for the rest of us. Because if anonymous speech on the Internet is no longer anonymous, some people will simply stop speaking.”

And that is truly frightening.