A Harry situation...but who broke the embargo?

Well, the cat's out of the bag, and the prince is out of the desert. An embargo between the British military and the press was broken this week. While many outlets are saying Matt Drudge broke the news, The Telegraph is reporting that New Idea, an Australian women's magazine, was actually responsible. While its publishers are claiming to not have known of the secrecy regarding the information, many are outraged by the magazine's choice to oust the third in line to the British throne.

Readers (or should we say "past readers") in the Australian community had a thing or two to say about the magazine's decision to "unknowingly" break the embargo, according to The Telegraph:

Readers labelled its journalists "guttersnipes", "money-hungry idiots", "brain-dead morons" and "selfish parasites", saying they were an embarrassment to Australia.

As soon as the article was picked up by Drudge, the information really picked up speed, according to the same article:

Little notice was taken of New Idea’s January 7th 'exclusive' until the US-based Drudge Report website picked up the story this week and posted it on the internet, triggering a world-wide media frenzy.

Leave it to American bloggers, especially the infamous Matt Drudge, to rapidly disseminate information, especially that of a highly-secretive nature.

The ethical questions here are almost too easy. First, why would any editor or publisher find it okay to break news of Prince Harry's deployment, if not for his safety, but for the rest of the men in his unit? Obviously, being the first to have the news obviously made the publication (in)famous across the world, but how could anyone find the gossip angle more important than that of the safety of many lives?

Perhaps the whole story points to society's increasingly unsavory desire for all things gossip. From magazines to blogs, we love to read about the latest trials and tribulations of those in society we deem famous. America has their movie stars, Britney Spears and Brangelinas, while Brittain has their royal family.

Perhaps if we weren't so eager to take in all this information--causing the tabloids to trip over one another's print dates and their own common sense--information such as Prince Harry's deployment wouldn't have "accidentally" slipped out of secrecy and into the pages of this magazine, the Drudge Report and the public arena of awareness.

What's in a claim?

So The Simpsonian has its own Facebook group now, boasting 88 members as of today. The goal is to allow for open communication between staff members and readers, and to serve as a forum for discussions on various facets of the paper.

This week, just that happened. A discussion was started regarding the claim of the Simpsonian to be the "oldest continuously published student newspaper in the country." One Facebooker posted that she was questioning the validity of this claim, and that it may, in fact, belong to another paper.

Other posters got on the response, questioning if perhaps the "student run" facet was what made The Simpsonian the heir to the longest-published throne, and that the validity was in the wording.

I think the ethical question here regards this stake on validity. While we may be able to track down a Simpson historian who can lay the groundwork for our campus newspaper owning the title, Ohio Wesleyan (one school claiming the same thing as Simpson in regards to newspaper history) may be able to find their own information to validate their claim.

I don't think the newspaper should remove the claim from its banner each week, merely due to a Facebook thread, but I find it interesting that many times, when someone wants to stake a claim in history, someone else is right there beside you, wanting to claim the exact same thing.
So who's right? I would say "time will tell," but supposedly, it already has.

Roses are red, reporters are wooed

Fishbowl DC reports this week that Hillary took some time out of campaigning this week to pass around a tray of chocolates to reporters traveling on her plane. She even took time to deliver a message to one reporter's girlfriend, not able to be with the journalist on Valentine's Day.

As the article states:
The New York senator made her way to the back of the cabin with a tray full of chocolates to share with her media entourage and got to help some reporters make amends with their significant others back home.

While the story was no doubt leaked by Hillary's camp in an effort to make the candidate appear to have a level of banter with her journalists, it makes me question just how close the "fair and balanced" journalists are getting to the Clinton camp, and how something as innocent as a Valentine's Day confection can be seen as a tool to woo the press.

Furthermore, what ethical dilemmas are brought up by the issue that these journalists are traveling along with the candidate? It seems to me that, while convenient way to reduce the carbon footprint of the press, it brings up more than just a few conflicts of interest. What's next, Clinton serving warm cookies in coach while glancing over reporter's notebooks?

A whole different Outlook: When what you sent becomes journalistic kismet

Here's a story that can't help but raise an ethical question or two. Besides being reported in "The New York Times," the story has gotten considerable attention from several other outlets, including NPR's "On the Media" and the FishbowlNY blog on "Media Bistro." Here is the background, courtesy of Fishbowl:

For months, Eli Lilly & Co. had been in confidential talks with the government to arrange a settlement that would involve the firm possibly paying more than $1 billion to federal and state governments. The federal government had been investigating the drug firm's marketing of antipsychotic drug Zyprexa; since at least 2003, there have been claims over improper and aggressive (read: ethically dubious) marketing of the drug by Lilly. The side effect? Lilly has paid $1.2 billion to settle 30,000 lawsuits from patients who claim Zyprexa caused them to suffer diabetes.

Alright, now for those of you familiar with Outlook e-mail, you know that the form has a supposedly "helpful" feature which allows you to simply type in only a few letters of a given address and the program will supply the rest of the address, suggesting a recent recipient it thinks you might want to message again.

Cool, right? Possibly not--especially if you're a lawyer trying to spend the specifics of a prescription drug settlement to a client whose last name is dangerously close to that of a "New York Times" reporter.

Fishbowl recounts:

An unnamed Pepper Hamilton lawyer accidentally e-mailed Times reporter Berenson confidential information on the talks. The lawyer had an Outlook snafu when trying to e-mail Sidley Austin co-counsel Bradford Berenson... Alex Berenson logged on to find an internal "very comprehensive document" about the negotiations, the consultant said, and on January 30, Berenson's article, "Lilly in Settlement Talks With U.S." appeared on the Times' Web site. (view the article).

It could be argued that, since the e-mail was not intended for the reporter, he should not have read--let alone published--the findings of his inbox. On the other hand, that's exactly where the e-mail landed. Could Alex Berenson help it that he just happened to have the same last name as the co-counsel member? Furthermore, as a journalist, a watchdog for justice, did he have a duty to report the information to the public? Did Alex Berenson's moral logic pale in comparison to the carelessness of the lawyer who sent the message?

I guess the lesson is learned, folks--watch your outgoing messages, especially if you're in the legal, and even more so if a "New York Times" reporter is one of your recent contacts.

Juno: Cautionary Whale or Enticing tale?

There has been a buzz for some time now about "Juno." The film has been getting rave reviews and explores the plight of one 16-year-old faced with an unplanned pregnancy that "all began with a couch." But the film is not without criticism, as many are saying the storyline glamorizes teen pregnancy, without realism dedicated towards the consequences that fall on unwed teen mothers. As a recent article on msnbc.com reports:

Dr. Vanessa Cullins, vice president for medical affairs at the Planned Parenthood Federation of America, said these story lines — generally with upbeat endings — oversimplify the tough choices facing real-life girls and women. Each year, more than 1 million of them in the United States opt to have an abortion.

“Hollywood is in this for money and entertainment,” Cullins said. “They are shying away from having the characters fully explore all their options when faced with an unplanned pregnancy.

“In the real world, it’s important to weigh all the possible options and then come up with the best one for the teen, the family and the child,” Cullins added. “That will be different for different circumstances.”

I guess it was only a matter of time before the post-coital glow of the fuzzy-feeling film wore off, and it would fall under attack by those, like Cullins, with claims that it is simply a glittery version of a horrific circumstance.

Ethically, what is the problem? Is the film really just a blatant attempt to show 17-year-olds in Minnesota that they, too, can see the positive side of a pee strip and have it come out as bright as the Sunny D they used to test it out? Personally, I think this is an unrealistic way to approach the movie.

The film, I believe, is attempting to make a statement about the way life begins, who starts it, and who ultimately takes the responsibility for it. The character of the 30-something woman desperate to have a child but unable to do so is demonstrative of an entire collective of society and shows how yuppie bliss isn't all its cracked up to be. Juno herself, in her most intriguing moments, is simply a teenager exploring "teenager" things-- crushing on a boy and feeling moments of utter isolation. The movie is almost pointedly unrealistic, as the paltry humor and the equally dry responses of seemingly everyone around Juno as she begins to swell with child are somewhat hard to believe.

Can abstinence-only advocates complain the film is erring on the side of delivering a potentially misleading message? Certainly. Still, the script wasn't written for high school girls eager to reproduce before prom. In my opinion, the film was meant to give character profiles of different lives that intersect when an unexpected happening--such as a pregnancy--occurs. The beauty of being able to see these characters is simply the cheese to some pretty decent cinematic macaroni.