Censorship
copyrighted by Hank Nuwer
Censorship.
Nearly everyone agrees on the term’s
definition in the context of print, electronic, and broadcast
journalism.
Namely, censorship is the action of a censor or
organized societal group in controlling, removing, or adding words or
images to news content.
The disagreement, often vocal or even violent,
occurs when individuals, governments, and institutions debate whether
censorship is a good and necessary function in a society, or a danger
sign that a treasured freedom is under threat.
The issue of what news to leave in and what to take
out or add differs widely on the type of society—say democratic,
oligarchic, or despotic—and the present social conditions,
especially in time of war versus peacetime.
What is routinely reported in the
United States might lead governments in China, North Korea or an Arab
nation to block dissemination, a gap that may change in the future as
the world’s residents in common turn to the Internet and 24-hour
unrestricted news broadcasts for access to less-restrictive
coverage.
Nonetheless, even in many democratic countries such
as the United States, what is generally acceptable in the way of
disseminating uncensored printed, electronic and broadcast journalism
for adults may and does not apply for certain materials available to,
and/or produced by, persons below the age of eighteen.
Communicating ideas and images has been synonymous
with human development, and technology associated with media
progressively makes it possible to reach ever-larger audiences. Some
applaud what they read or view, while others use similar media to
communicate their dissenting ideas.
Censorship occurs when governments and institutions
do not stop there but instead try to suppress the publication or other
dissemination of words and ideas they find repugnant, offensive,
traitorous, anti-religion, anti-government and so on.
Patrick Garry, author of a book on censorship,
maintains that censorship occurs most commonly in “weak and
unstable communities,” that it “often expresses certain
social insecurities and fears,” and that it amounts to
“a desperate attempt to calm social insecurities and
anxieties.” From medieval times to the present, the Catholic
Church most certainly would take issue with Garry’s statement, as
the Church maintains that it has a moral duty to warn its members and,
particularly in the mid-twentieth century, exercised that presumed duty
to forbid its members to attend certain films and to read books on its
banned list.
Censorship is as old as civilization. Today’s parents
may begin their child’s reading experience with one or more of
Aesop’s fables, unaware that the priests of Delphi found his
words sacrilegious and executed him. In ancient Rome a bureaucrat
called a censerr originally was supposed to collect taxes and conduct a
census (hence the derivation of the term), but assumed much broader
powers. Ironically, Marcus Porcius Cato, or Cato the Censor, actually
wrote extensively himself, but he earned his name for censuring the
public morality of senators and others.
In England under monarchy in Elizabethan
times, someone who wrote or uttered words deigned grossly unacceptable
to authorities might lose a hand or, as Edmund Spenser wrote in The
Fairie Queene, see one’s offending tongue clipped and nailed to a
post. [P. 3, Clegg] The one royalty-approved press under Queen Mary in
1557 was the London Company of Stationers, and both the Crown and the
Company diligently searched for books without official sanction, as
well as those deemed treasonous, seditious, or heretical in a religious
sense.
Three hundred years passed before the thinker
John Stuart Mill argued in his book On Liberty that the government and
institutions do “evil” themselves by silencing opinions of
others they see as vile. “…The peculiar evil of silencing
the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race;
posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from
the opinion, still more than those who hold it,” Mill wrote in
1859. “If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the
opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is
almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier
impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.”
In the United States, most cases of
censorship that cause widespread debate pro or con involve government
suppression of information. In colonial days, without question the
trial of New York Weekly Journal printer John Peter Zenger established
the concept that a newspaper could indeed offer non-malicious,
pertinent criticism of government officials without giving that
government just cause to jail a printer or shut down the offending
publication’s presses. Authors, librarians, journalists and
others concerned with the right to express one’s ideas in the
marketplace cite the First Amendment to the Constitution as their
rationale. In part it reads: “Congress shall make no law …
abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press.” Even before
that amendment, the Continental Congress of 1774 urged the creation of
a free press to ensure that public affairs be conducted in
“honest” fashion and to assure “the advancement of
truth, science, morality and arts in general.”
One of the most cited defenders of
a free press is Thomas Jefferson, and indeed he wrote and uttered many
powerful defenses of a free press as the voice of the self-governed
people in a democracy. At the same time, he railed against what he
perceived to be abuses of the press against himself and the fledgling
democratic government, urging the press to be responsible, fair, and
calumny free.
In the realm of education, school boards and
appointed officials have halted or tried to halt publication of certain
articles, and sometimes the officials have had pressure to bear by
local politicians, religious groups, parents or church leaders.
Books of authors such as Mark Twain, Kurt Vonnegut,
and, in the 2000s, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor and J.K. Rowling, also have
drawn strong demands for bans on them in libraries or schools,
frequently prompting equally strong community reaction in support of
protecting speech, press, and ideas. The American Library Association,
for example, promotes a Banned Books Week each year, and its web page
cites a famous slogan from statesman, publisher, and author Benjamin
Franklin: “Whoever would overthrow the liberty of a nation must
begin by subduing the freeness of speech.”
Perhaps the most trying time for those who
consider themselves staunch defenders of the First Amendment is any
time of declared war, when even the loudest, self-proclaimed patriots
suddenly clamor for a censoring of news in what they say is the
national interest. On one side line up those who want an information
blackout as they cite concern that the United States not lose battles
or soldiers due to posting of top secret information.
On the other are voices insisting that wholesale
censorship is wrong even in a time of crisis and that a free nation
cannot just drop the First Amendment when fellow citizens think it
expedient to do so. In our own time, the Chronicle of Higher Education
cites vaunted textual scholar Robert J. Scholes who has suggested
frantic U.S. attempts to censor Al Qaeda propaganda are symptomatic of
individuals and even a nation marked by “insularity” and
“cultural arrogance.”
During World War Two, Elmer Davis, head of the
Office of War Information, successfully persuaded President Franklin
Delano Roosevelt to allow Life magazine and other periodicals to
publish photographs of war dead. Other restrictions on what war
correspondents put into print were government-regulated in such matters
as troop movements, which even journalists saw as necessary for the
safeguarding of soldiers, but also in the reporting of Allied battles
lost and the full number of U.S. casualties in the bombing of Pearl
Harbor.
In addition to the Office of War Information, a
civilian Office of Censorship and military censors restricted the news
that actually appeared in the American press. Nonetheless, syndicated
columnist Ernie Pyle managed to walk that tightrope, crafting news
about the average G.I. Joe into short, masterful pieces, creative
within censor limitations that made him a national icon whose bald dome
and lined face once went on the cover of Time magazine. “You feel
small in the presence of dead men, and you don’t ask silly
questions,” he wrote in a memorable column a little more than one
year before a Japanese sniper was to kill Pyle.
In the last fifty years, perhaps the single most
memorable occurrence of strong government pressure in the U.S. brought
to bear against the concept of a free press was the 1971 attempt of
President Richard Nixon to force the New York Times and the Washington
Post to halt publication of the Pentagon Papers leaked by Daniel
Ellsburg, a non-military staff member for the Defense Department.
These “Papers” were actually excerpts
from the “History of U.S. Decision-Making Process on Viet Nam
Policy,” produced for the Secretary of Defense of the
presidential administration proceeding Nixon, and detailed how the
United States found itself entangled in the Vietnam War. The documents
embarrassed past and current bureaucrats and military leaders and
revealed woeful weaknesses in U.S. foreign policy. Acting posthaste,
the U.S. Supreme Court overruled an attempt by then-Attorney General
John Mitchell to thwart additional excerpt printing on the grounds that
their publication weakened national security. The Court, in a 6-3 vote,
ruled the government failed to show an extraordinary security need to
keep the Pentagon Papers secret.
Observing how even the government of a
self-declared “free country” can so drastically throw
itself in support of censorship may help explain the lengths to which
governments can and will go to silence journalists and to block
uncensored reportage.
In 1964, the administration of South Korea President
Chung Hee Park attempted to pass a so-called “Press Ethics
Commission Law” that would allow the government prior restraint
of publication and the power to imprison publishers who newspapers
printed materials that the government found objectionable. A national
coalition of journalists thwarted this proposal they defined as
unconstitutional and oppressive. Perhaps the most heinous ways that
governments have attempted to censor or punish publication is by
executing journalists or imprisoning them.
The classic example of such oppression was the
arrest, torture, and savagery enacted against Argentine newspaper
publisher Jacobo Timerman who chronicled his horrific experiences after
his release in the book Prisoner Without a Name, Cell Without a
Number. Outside acts of brutality and killing, perhaps other
misguided acts of censorship can be understood better by seeing that
those who tried to limit press coverage thought they were doing the
right thing and this failing to see how they actually were trampling on
First Amendment liberties.
In the late 1970s, fearing in part that jurors might
be influenced by what they read in a Richmond, Va., newspaper, a judge
ordered two reporters out of his courtroom during a murder trial, only
to eventually have his action criticized by the U.S. Supreme Court that
said all such trials must be kept public and open to the citizenry.
Today, one of the more controversial forms of halting
publication is that of high school principals and school boards that
have sometimes ordered the most expansive interpretation of a Supreme
Court decision made in the late 1980s that allowed prior restraint of a
student publication providing certain conditions were met.
Here is how the precedent was established. In
1983, Gene Reynolds, the principal at Hazelwood High School in Missouri
ordered the Spectrum newspaper adviser to pull a two-page spread on
teens who felt pressure to have sexual relations. Three student
journalists sued for their presumed right to publish with the
assistance of the American Civil Liberties Union. An attorney for the
school maintained that the First Amendment rights did not apply at this
level to the Spectrum students because the principal had a duty to
respect the privacy of students and to head off disruption of classes
due to the clamor the principal said he thought might follow
publication of these interviews with pregnant teens.
Those who wish to publish journalism they feel is in the
public’s right to know and those who believe there is a
compelling reason to censor that information inevitably collide with
seemingly no way of achieving a workable compromise.
Ultimately, the case was determined in 1988 B.C. by
the Supreme Court of the United States after Reversing a verdict of the
Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit that had decided in the
Spectrum students’ favor, the Supreme Court voted 5-3 that
schools under certain circumstances could act as censors without
violating student freedoms of speech and press.
In effect, principals and school advisers could pull
any articles or photos in a student publication if those in authority
decided these interfered with the school’s mission to educate,
making it clear that the Court found a distinction between the press
freedoms enjoyed by adult newspapers and those permitted high school
students.
Some crucial differences, in the Court’s view,
was that the Spectrum was part of the school curriculum, used the
school’s name and sponsorship, was trying to prevent what it
though might be disruption to the educational process. The article
therefore failed to qualify as protected speech in a public forum.
Unfortunately, from the viewpoint of
First Amendment proponents, thousands of cases of censorship of high
school publications have followed. School newspaper advisers have
complained in surveys that Hazelwood has had a chilling effect on
student publications, and that outside pressures from communities and
religious organizations to censure student publications has become far
more pervasive in the 1990s and 2000s.
A few states such as California, Colorado, Iowa,
Kansas and Massachusetts have passed laws giving high school
publications some of the rights back that Hazelwood removed.
Nonetheless, there have been some exceptions where
not even Hazelwood could stop the presses on an important story. In
Indiana, a student editor for the Avon High School Echo newspaper, with
the support of her adviser, published her investigation into illicit
athletic hazing at the school in spite of pressure from the then
principal and then-coach to stop or delay publication. The Newseum, the
Student Press Law Center and the National Scholastic Press Association
gave the student editor its Courage in Student Journalism award. In
2001, the new principal at Avon High School, Thomas Wachnicki, was
given the same award after refusing community pressure to pull a
serious Echo story on sexually transmitted diseases.
In coming years, censorship will be no less hotly
debated as the definition of publisher grows wider thanks to the
proliferation of inexpensive, often controversial publications placed
on the Internet. Governments that by force or threat were able to
assure publication of newspapers that were little more than propaganda
devices now must contend with new media publishers threatening to
expose corruption and other dark secrets. Unlike books or newspapers,
burning of such documents is futile, and thus the only alternatives are
to permit these publications to exist or to stop them through
imprisonment or death of he journalists responsible for their content.
Thus, the twenty-first century is deep into the dawn
of a new era when readers expect to get their information from diverse
sources without prior restraint, unjust laws to halt publication, or
punishment for representatives of the press who do their jobs fairly
and without favor to anyone. At the same time, it is impossible to even
consider governments and institutions will suddenly halt all censorship
practices. For that reason, it is safe to presume that censorship will
continue to be a subject of international debate for thousands of years
to come.
Hank Nuwer is a long-time freelance writer for national magazines (GQ,
Harper's, The Nation) and an author. He speaks at writer conferences. Contact him here.
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