I received a subpoena for my testimony from Chief Justice Fitzgerald regarding United States v. Libby today. The court is aware that I was informed of Valerie Plame’s identity as a CIA Operative before Robert Novak published this information in his column “Mission to Niger” on July 14, 2003. I have various reasons why I will refuse to obey Fitzgerald’s subpoena. These reasons are grounded in my convictions in what I believe to be the necessary ethics and standards for journalistic pursuit.
I don’t believe I have absolute freedom as a journalist to pursue information; neither do I believe I have absolute freedom to decide whether or not such information should be published. I realize, as Philip Meyer contends in his essay “Privacy, News Sources, and the Refusal to Testify” that my freedom to swing my fist ends where another’s nose begins; metaphorically, this means that my freedom to gather and report information begins and ends in service to the local, national, and global community. Freedom stops where I am no longer serving this end. The purpose of my stubborn decision to keep the confidentiality of my sources, protected to me under the First Amendment, is not for the sake of my pride as a journalist; nor am I intending to serve the means of my profession in disregard for the end of my profession. Rather, by refusing to testify before a Grand Jury and admit my source of information, I am serving the means and the end of my profession.
I understand that oftentimes the press’s pursuit and report of information, as well as their protection of the confidentiality of their sources can destroy the goal of preserving freedom in a society. Most journalists are not such ignorant absolutists – even the First Amendment Center admits that there exist some cases where disclosure of sources is permitted and necessary. My testimony, however, is not pertinent in this case – by pertinent I mean that it is not necessary to solve this case, nor will anyone suffer as a result of my refusal. Rather, the trustworthiness of my profession, as well as my personal reputation for trustworthiness will suffer by my disclosure. I am not destroying order, or hurting anyone’s pursuit of life, liberty and happiness by my refusal. If I testify how will the loyalties that I have worked so hard to build for myself and for my publication suffer?
The blaring facts of this case justify my position: I did not write the article that disclosed Plame’s position in the CIA. That I knew the information is a result of my investigative skills. It is my intellectual property; consequently, it is necessary to carefully consider the facts of the case. I cannot see where the government is justified in sending me a subpoena. I am not interfering with the rights or freedoms of another. Rather, my aim is to keep my source confidential in order to continue to preserve the individual’s pursuit of such ideals through good journalism.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
to endure with God, with ourselves, with others
Depression is a more frequent occurrence than I realize. Last week I was informed that one in four women are depressed at some point in their life. One in ten men, likewise, face depression at some point in life.
Over the past few months, I’ve wrestled with some significant questions about the nature of pain and suffering: about how to confront it in my own life, as well as how to walk alongside others as they deal with it. I am the type of personality – I think many of us are – that just aches to fix things for people, to make everything better. I think quoting Scripture or relaying all the encouraging thoughts I tell myself in an effort to make me feel better will help others in their pain. The problem is, oftentimes the Christian already knows the Scripture, but is not feeling the truth of it. Christian or not, hearing of God’s goodness in great suffering is just blatantly incongruent with their situation. Perhaps God is teaching the person in pain about his goodness. Perhaps, if we just listen and endure alongside this person, He will teach us to more deeply trust in his goodness. Perhaps, God’s goodness is an underlying, overlying, pervading fact that need not be mentioned, but will be experienced. I feel like people in pain need a hand to hold, and an ear to hear, rather than an informative lecture on overcoming. We all know the tension of these situations: someone opens up; we give advice. Suddenly it’s a bit quiet, and uncomfortable. You might attribute the silence and the discomfort to the proclamation of and confrontation of truth. However, I would put forth that this is a personal justification for the tension caused by the giver, rather than the receiver of advice.
The nature of pain is that it is often an emotion caused by deeply rooted issues with family or past experiences; in this instance, it cannot be easily corrected. Perhaps it's chemical imbalances; in this case, a medical doctor is needed. When people in our lives face hard or terrible circumstances, this too demands endurance on our part. Pain is part of the healing process. Most people in pain, most people that are depressed can remember what they formerly took joy and happiness in, whether that be sunsets and sunrises, or reading the Bible and worshiping God. However, those actions don’t stir up those emotions any longer. Their pain is an emotional state that, yes, can be aided by right thinking, but, in my recent experience, is most often occurring hand in hand with the constant repetition of truth, and (in the life of a Christian) constant prayer for peace and direction. Of course, there are situations when advice is absolutely necessary. But I think that the privilege of directing and giving advice can only come after a great amount of time is spent listening, asking questions, and really understanding the difficulty that the person finds him or herself in. When we’re quick to give advice, we sometimes belittle and ostracize the person we aim to aid. We're telling him or her that their deep suffering is in vain – that they just need to do A, B, and C and everything will be better. We're basically using a euphemism for, "Get over it." In additon, in our quickness to speak, we fail to find out what lessons they’ve already learnt. As a result of our efforts to satisfy a personal need to relate and help, we can unfortunately miss an opportunity to learn from someone with a unique experience with pain and suffering.
I would surmise that the most prevalent motive for giving advice is private emotional satisfaction. I say this because I have realized how true it is in my own experience. We take issue with sitting in the suffering of others because we take issue with sitting in our own. Thus, when someone begins to tell us of their present pain, we fail to find the strength to sit and carefully listen to them, to completely understand them as a unique human being. We jump to understanding them as someone sharing in the same old plight of humanity as a whole. Certain words in their personal narrative will trigger the remembrance of our own experiences, which in turn trigger the memory of the lessons learned, and it is here where we quit listening; it is here where we are ready to interrupt with our advice, our effort to make everything better – partly because we. of course, care, but partly because, if we are honest with ourselves, we are uncomfortable with their unhappiness. We are just, bottom line, uncomfortable with pain.
Lately I’ve been praying for patience – patience for me in my own pain, and patience for others as they work through their very unique pain as unique people in unique situations. I want to display self-control that manifests in imparting advice at appropriate moments, moments when it is asked for – whether it is overtly asked for, or it is an implied request via body language, tone of voice, or some other relational indicator.
On a broader scale, I have been praying for a deeper understanding of what it means that Christ has not yet come back – that Satan is still ruling, still deceiving, still wrecking havoc on God’s good creation. I’m realizing I need to be truly active if I want to be in touch with the world and its pain. Oftentimes when I am doing well, I think my job is to make sure everyone else is doing well – that that is what it means, as a Christian, to pour out my life for the sake of others. However, the past few months have opened my eyes to the truth that pouring out my life mostly means allowing the peace of my situation (if I am experiencing peace in my situation) to be a support, rather than an answer to the pain of others. I want to sit with someone who is confronting a confusing, messy situation and simply share the presence of peace that God has given me by his amazing grace, as opposed to trying, as if I myself am God, and have that amazing power, to heal another’s hurt, to pacify their pain.
Note to G. Stump: 100%
Over the past few months, I’ve wrestled with some significant questions about the nature of pain and suffering: about how to confront it in my own life, as well as how to walk alongside others as they deal with it. I am the type of personality – I think many of us are – that just aches to fix things for people, to make everything better. I think quoting Scripture or relaying all the encouraging thoughts I tell myself in an effort to make me feel better will help others in their pain. The problem is, oftentimes the Christian already knows the Scripture, but is not feeling the truth of it. Christian or not, hearing of God’s goodness in great suffering is just blatantly incongruent with their situation. Perhaps God is teaching the person in pain about his goodness. Perhaps, if we just listen and endure alongside this person, He will teach us to more deeply trust in his goodness. Perhaps, God’s goodness is an underlying, overlying, pervading fact that need not be mentioned, but will be experienced. I feel like people in pain need a hand to hold, and an ear to hear, rather than an informative lecture on overcoming. We all know the tension of these situations: someone opens up; we give advice. Suddenly it’s a bit quiet, and uncomfortable. You might attribute the silence and the discomfort to the proclamation of and confrontation of truth. However, I would put forth that this is a personal justification for the tension caused by the giver, rather than the receiver of advice.
The nature of pain is that it is often an emotion caused by deeply rooted issues with family or past experiences; in this instance, it cannot be easily corrected. Perhaps it's chemical imbalances; in this case, a medical doctor is needed. When people in our lives face hard or terrible circumstances, this too demands endurance on our part. Pain is part of the healing process. Most people in pain, most people that are depressed can remember what they formerly took joy and happiness in, whether that be sunsets and sunrises, or reading the Bible and worshiping God. However, those actions don’t stir up those emotions any longer. Their pain is an emotional state that, yes, can be aided by right thinking, but, in my recent experience, is most often occurring hand in hand with the constant repetition of truth, and (in the life of a Christian) constant prayer for peace and direction. Of course, there are situations when advice is absolutely necessary. But I think that the privilege of directing and giving advice can only come after a great amount of time is spent listening, asking questions, and really understanding the difficulty that the person finds him or herself in. When we’re quick to give advice, we sometimes belittle and ostracize the person we aim to aid. We're telling him or her that their deep suffering is in vain – that they just need to do A, B, and C and everything will be better. We're basically using a euphemism for, "Get over it." In additon, in our quickness to speak, we fail to find out what lessons they’ve already learnt. As a result of our efforts to satisfy a personal need to relate and help, we can unfortunately miss an opportunity to learn from someone with a unique experience with pain and suffering.
I would surmise that the most prevalent motive for giving advice is private emotional satisfaction. I say this because I have realized how true it is in my own experience. We take issue with sitting in the suffering of others because we take issue with sitting in our own. Thus, when someone begins to tell us of their present pain, we fail to find the strength to sit and carefully listen to them, to completely understand them as a unique human being. We jump to understanding them as someone sharing in the same old plight of humanity as a whole. Certain words in their personal narrative will trigger the remembrance of our own experiences, which in turn trigger the memory of the lessons learned, and it is here where we quit listening; it is here where we are ready to interrupt with our advice, our effort to make everything better – partly because we. of course, care, but partly because, if we are honest with ourselves, we are uncomfortable with their unhappiness. We are just, bottom line, uncomfortable with pain.
Lately I’ve been praying for patience – patience for me in my own pain, and patience for others as they work through their very unique pain as unique people in unique situations. I want to display self-control that manifests in imparting advice at appropriate moments, moments when it is asked for – whether it is overtly asked for, or it is an implied request via body language, tone of voice, or some other relational indicator.
On a broader scale, I have been praying for a deeper understanding of what it means that Christ has not yet come back – that Satan is still ruling, still deceiving, still wrecking havoc on God’s good creation. I’m realizing I need to be truly active if I want to be in touch with the world and its pain. Oftentimes when I am doing well, I think my job is to make sure everyone else is doing well – that that is what it means, as a Christian, to pour out my life for the sake of others. However, the past few months have opened my eyes to the truth that pouring out my life mostly means allowing the peace of my situation (if I am experiencing peace in my situation) to be a support, rather than an answer to the pain of others. I want to sit with someone who is confronting a confusing, messy situation and simply share the presence of peace that God has given me by his amazing grace, as opposed to trying, as if I myself am God, and have that amazing power, to heal another’s hurt, to pacify their pain.
Note to G. Stump: 100%
Monday, October 5, 2009
To agree or live free?
Freedom is a means, not an end to peace and happiness. Freedom, in particular free thought, instigates division and tension. It may be good, healthy, or efficient at times to submit to a single opinion. However, for the most part, freedom, as we live with imperfection, means living in tension.
This tension is exemplified by the comparison of news agencies. Take for example foxnews.com and bbc.co.uk. Their coverage of the Indonesian earthquakes was subtly, yet significantly different. Fox News did not report on survivors until the sixth paragraph, and they reported on the number of ‘bodies’ found. The BBC began with revealing the deaths of 1,000 ‘people’. Fox's first quotation reads, "They were sucked 100 feet deep into the earth... Even the mosque's minaret, taller than 65 feet, disappeared." The reader is left with a sense of awe rather than despair over the tragedy. The BBC first quotes an affected village resident: "Don't bother trying to bring aid up here. Everyone is dead". This quotation speaks of the devastation of the people of Indonesia. Both choices affect the tone of each article.
John Stuart Mill writes "…that unity of opinion, unless resulting from the fullest and freest comparison of opposite opinions, is not desirable, and diversity not an evil, but a good..." Mill is saying that in our fallible state we must choose between agreeing and living free. I am biased to the BBC's report of the earthquake. They told the story succinctly. However, Fox’s representation may be equally as beneficial. Perhaps reading 'bodies' rather than 'people' is healthier for my psyche.
Fox and BBC choose to cover different events overall. The deaths of 27 militants in Pakistan, and that an Afghan policeman killed two US soldiers were newsworthy for Fox. The elections and fights for free speech in Greece and Italy, respectively, were covered by the BBC and not by Fox. Both of these publications have conviction about why they publish what they publish. To say either of them should be suffered to silence would be to declare myself in a state of infallibility above the rest of the human race. The truth suffers when opinions – whether right or wrong (Mill would say all opinions are more or less half-truths) – are suppressed.
Publishers censor everyday according to Judith Andre. They are limited by economic forces, which, in effect, censor material. They possess beliefs and values that are not arbitrary and subjective; these values affect what becomes news. For example, Fox published portions of Roman Polanski’s past as he faces charges for having sex with a minor, while BBC did not. By publishing that his pregnant wife was murdered a couple of decades before this incident, Fox incites compassion for Polanski. Perhaps this was fair; perhaps it was not. The bottom line is, this discussion about what should and should not be published and why needs to continue. I would rather feel this tension of being free than feel the oppression of perfect unity in a fallen and fallible world.
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