The story by Harsha Subba that appeared in both Kantipur and The Kathmandu Post is past. But it will find use in journalism training for a long time to come, as an example of a story was that never was.
Media can, and do make mistakes. As Scott R Maier’s research suggests, the size of average American newspapers should expand by a factor of 50 for corrections if they were to correct all of them (www.slate.com/?id=2172283&). But most of these mistakes tend to be minor.
What I have not yet come to terms with is how such a massive slip could have occurred because the news production process has mechanisms that could and should have spotted something amiss early on.
News production begins with reporters who sniff for stories, get them and check and verify facts and report, but only after they are convinced beyond reasonable doubt that they are reporting the truth.
Next comes gate keeping. Since the story had appeared on Page-1, one can assume that it did not get there without a fair number of eyes rolling over the text. It was one of only four stories on the page that day. And since Page-1 is reserved for the most important stories, on 20 April, I assume that it replaced one on a parliament committee’s summon to the prime minister to explain a ministerial appointment. This story appeared on Page 2.
Therefore, there seems to be only one explanation to what could have happened: Sloppy reporting, sloppy editing and plain bad journalism. My sources tell me that it was not the reporter who sniffed out the story but the source had looked up the reporter. Something like that requires much greater scrutiny, which was missing – perhaps. The editors could have asked many questions to the reporter – and also themselves – which apparently was not done. Hence the outcome that will definitely affect the credibility of the publications concerned and indirectly, also the public trust on the media in general.
The four stories on Page 1 that day were a political analysis on the road ahead for the Maoist leadership, the arrest of two Constituent Assembly members who were making extra bucks by renting their official passports, an accusation against a newly appointed state minister of being a double-agent and then the lost-and-found story in question – about a girl who had returned Rs 9.1 million and a diamond necklace to the rightful owner – which turned out to be untrue in the end.
The story had some elements that were not congruent with how news is produced (written). Among others, something that was very conspicuous by its absence was the hedge word ‘claim’, which could have helped it to avoid the embarrassment. Instead the narrative was largely declarative.
This is how the Nepali version translates: ‘… A 65-year-old Sitapaila, Kathmandu resident sent money to Itahari via IMI. He withdrew the money the next day and got on a bus to Dharan with money to buy land for his daughter Sudha Pokhrel. He was unaware that he had left the money on the seat when he left in a hurry.
Anuja Bania, 22, of Bhojpur, Bhulke and a resident of Dharan spotted the black bag. Whose is this? She shouted out loud. No one claimed the bag. Then she took it home, where she opened it and panicked. The bag had Rs.9.1 million and a diamond necklace…’
The text reads like that of a witness describing what happened. Was the reporter in the bus? Definitely not! It was a reconstruction of what had allegedly happened. A named source appeared very deep inside the story, the goddaughter of Poudel. The story also said Anuja did not want to say more than where she came from and the name of her parents in Bhojpur.
But it would be unfair to say that it was only Kantipur that erred. All the FM stations that had the story the same morning – I actually listened to it on radio first – also slipped. They had read the story in one breath, without even a pause to think about what they were reading. The radios, therefore, were good only as loudspeakers and failed terribly on judgement.
Again it was not just the Nepali FMs that blundered. Even the ‘venerable’ BBC did not pause a second and think the story through. Instead it sent a reporter after the girl immediately and ran a feel-good interview on the same storyline on its Nepali Service. The segment also included information on how ‘difficult’ it had been for the reporter to get an appointment for the interview.
In a country where bad news has been the norm, it was definitely an exceptional, heart-warming story. This was reflected in letters in Kantipur in the days that followed. Even the president, who had received some bad press for nosing into politics, could not resist the PR opportunity: He called up the girl and congratulated her.
But by this time, other media were also on the story and some did what Harsha Subba should have done when the story came his way. They questioned the fairy tale and began coming up with inconsistencies of all sorts, and the best of all, the fact that there was no evidence of the said money transfer.
Next came the apology, which while appearing seemingly straightforward also had some phrases that said more than sorry. Among others, it said that the “characters” in the tale were “created” (we do not know by whom) by trickery – and therefore, the paper was sorry. Not – perhaps – for the sloppy work by journalists.
The statement also indicated something else: That the newspaper had asked for and obtained telephone records of the girl based on which, it had concluded that the calls she had claimed to have made, had not been. This information is unsettling: If newspapers can obtain private telephone records, despite constitutional protection of privacy, there is something more serious to worry about other than the story that never was.
The apology could have been more effective had it been complete and correct. That in The Kathmandu Post said it was apologizing for a story that had appeared on 19 April, while my paper had the story on the 20th. Further, there were also inconsistencies in basic facts: The Post reported on a 20-year-old Anuja, while Kantipur had her as a 22-year-old. Another inconsistency: In the 20 April story, the money was returned to Purushottam Poudel, this surname had changed to Pokhrel in the apology.
It is a pity that we are seeing fewer journalists and editors that write ‘we stand by our stories’. And if even an apology cannot be correct, what else can readers expect journalists to get right?
As Craig Silverman, author of Regret the Error, says corrections are often constructed regretting mistakes at the level of practice, but not its higher level impact or “errors of meaning”. This ‘big picture’ error can exact a higher price on the profession in terms of public trust. His advice to journalists, maintain a checklist and follow it. If other professionals like doctors and security agencies can perform better with one, it could also work for journalists. Silverman’s checklist can be downloaded from www.scribd.com/doc/53186586/Regret-the-Error-s-Accuracy-Checklist.
bbhattarai2006@gmail.com
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