A Code of Ethics for Safer Journalism: How we did it and how to use it
Media credit: Imagery of the Code of Ethics. Provided by the Philadelphia Safer Journalism Project.
Philadelphia, PA - When our circle of collaborators first began this work together, we didn’t know that we would be creating our own form of journalism. We had convened a cohort of brilliant, principled media workers to manifest these goals, and found ourselves lucky that more than 20 journalists, media ethicists, mutual aid organizers and other subject-matter experts joined us for the journey. Making space for Black and Brown storytellers in news, looking at new models for coverage on crime and public safety, planting seeds for the news projects we wanted to see— this was all on our to-do list. Co-creating what we now call safer journalism happened along the way.
We spent hours in meetings and one-on-ones discussing our shared values and what we needed to make the dream— news that centers safety rather than crime, that shows our invaluable lives rather than normalizing our deaths— possible. We’d find ourselves discussing the distances between how our communities wanted reporting and production processes to go and what mainstream newsrooms allow. Often these conversations had an aching possibility to them, like the feeling when a trigger point in a tense, overworked muscle has been released, like a loving memory that arises in moments of grief and reminds you to keep going. Many of us had been made to feel that the wisdom of our ancestors wasn’t journalistic enough, but we were pressing against that together.
When you look at the drivers of violence in Philadelphia, you see factors like joblessness, chronic disinvestment, blight, and systemic oppression. Safer journalism calls for storytelling that addresses such factors to help communities feel safer. What if we nix crime briefs and increase coverage on public works? What if we abandon sensationalist narratives that criminalize Black and Brown people, and increase service stories that connect audiences to resources and employment opportunities?
A lot of the tenets of our work insist upon more nuance, humanity, complexity and anti-colonial approaches, so much so that it might not immediately strike readers as a practice that seeks to center safety outright. But that’s just it - so much harm rests in the limited stereotypes we see day in and day out, and we can’t address systemic oppression in our neighborhoods if we can’t address it in the storytelling itself. How can we be safe if we only see ourselves depicted in caricatures that make strangers fear us and miscast who we truly are? At a cohort meeting that took place the day after the state of Missouri executed Marcellus Williams, cohort member Andre Simms reminded us that we were not simply telling stories, we were pushing back against the systems that allowed the tragedy to occur in the first place.
Early on in the process, cohort member Manuel Smith and I took a ride over the Delaware River into New Jersey so we could have another one of those conversations at Corinne’s Place. Smith sat down on the veranda, ordered a platter, reflected on problems in our industry then said, “We need new rules of engagement.” Hearing that, I started working up a group editorial process to co-write a code of ethics. These group writing sessions began last July. I brought editorial principles that condensed our collective agreements, transcribed principles that collaborators dictated, and asked the group to pause for us to work out line, word and copy edits of the language we had so far. We were sharing the power that newsrooms had denied us, and very quickly we had pages and pages of principles to work from.
Media credit: Imagery of the Code of Ethics. Provided by the Philadelphia Safer Journalism Project.
We see our code of ethics, “Safer Reporting for Safer Communities,” as practical guidance for some of the most challenging stories to tell. We played out specific scenarios and recalled specific incidents in our lives as we mapped out the language. Here I will share some examples that helped our collaborators envision these tenets and how to apply them in real time:
Principle XII: “There’s a responsibility to balance public and individual perspectives with facts. Prioritize all the relevant facts, including the facts on interventions to violence.”
One of the blessings and challenges of shoe leather reporting are interviews with people who have very strong feelings. Not every strong feeling in our communities, as is the case in any community, will be fully grounded in the layers of evidence that should be present in a verification process, and it’s a daily reality that many people hold beliefs that could exacerbate harm rather than reduce, whether intentionally or unintentionally.
It’s normal to encounter community members who want to see more stop and frisk and more arrests, in spite of evidence that incarceration has a “weak relationship” to crime reduction and that studies have long deemed stop and frisk an ineffective practice that increases mistrust. It’s not unusual to encounter bereaved people who see justice in these tactics, even if they see evidence that proves otherwise.
In our meetings, we discussed what to do when you meet a mother who just lost her child and wants to see someone thrown under the jail. Scenarios like these led to principles like principle XII: It’s not our job to challenge, invalidate or censor that aggrieved parent— that could be deeply harmful, but it is our responsibility to balance our stories with facts so that audiences won’t be misinformed.
Principle XVII (with recommendation 1): “Expertise shouldn’t be determined by colonial institutions, but instead by the best knowledge on a topic, regardless of a person’s status. Expertise from within the community is crucial to getting the story right.
“Do not begin history with events that come from colonization; remember that history began well before this. Seek out Indigenous histories that predate and run concurrent to U.S. history. Do not conflate Indigenous groups, and center the land stewards where you are. Center colonized perspectives instead of colonizer perspectives on historical events.”
We wrote this after soaking up lessons from Rev. Dr. John Norwood of the Nanticoke Lenni-Lenape Tribal Nation, who welcomed us to learn more about Lenape history to inform our work. There are myriad ways that deeper understanding of Indigenous histories and culture can support public safety coverage. Reporting on community-led responses to harm could be one example, another that came up in our editorial process were stories that reflect impacts of climate change. News outlets routinely anticipate more homicide with rising temperatures, and yet the relationship between climate change and crime patterns remains underexplored. A nature walk with an Indigenous elder should be considered a valuable opportunity to source solutions that could mitigate these impacts, so much so that it served as inspiration for one of the project’s illustrations.
Principle XX: “Take the time to evaluate what visual stereotypes could show up in the storytelling.”
We welcomed a panel of visual journalists and filmmakers to hold a discussion on challenges that could arise in the process of making videos or making pictures. One challenge we discussed is how the camera can capture what was literally before you, but the image can still conjure reactions or interpretations that don’t reflect the events captured.
Often journalists don’t feel they have the permission or leeway to slow down, but our contributors agreed that taking your time in such moments is necessary. More interviews could also help in these situations. So let’s say that someone is wearing a keffiyeh, which many readers or viewers might see as a political statement. But did you discuss with the person why they wore it? If they weren’t wearing it as an act of solidarity, is the placement of the image appropriate in your news coverage and is there context provided to understand the person’s motivations? If a neighbor can be seen throwing up a sign with their hand, do you know what the sign is, and have you discussed it with the person depicted? Will your audiences know what it means and would they read the source unfairly?
Newsmaking is a series of many choices. “Safer Reporting for Safer Communities” offers a range of tactics to help storytellers make choices that could reduce media harm, help soothe nervous systems, and face the crises of our time with clarity. We hope you’ll join this journey with us.
