Poynter.org - The Amazing Growing Sweater

Posted Aug. 1, 1997

Courier-Journal Deals with Taste and Ethics

In the end, this is a cautionary tale about the dangers of assumptions.

It begins with one presentation editor's foolhardy assumption that everyone in the newsroom of The Courier-Journal understood the paper's stance on digital manipulation the way he did: It is never done.

It continues with the way in which coverage of a sensitive story was discussed in its six-week formative stage, as reporters, editors, and a photographer made their plans. And it has ended with miscommunication, dubious decision-making, embarrassment, and compromised credibility. (Click here to see larger view (89k) of the Courier-Journal with digitally manipulated photograph.)

"Everyone at the Courier-Journal knows our policy on digital manipulation," the presentation editor told his colleagues during The Poynter Institute's April seminar on Photojournalism Leadership and Ethics. "We just don't do it." He spoke the truth. The Courier-Journal had embraced the latest technology as part of its work day experience, but it had always been careful to use the gadgets with the same regard for honesty and accuracy that it had always applied to its reporting.

Artists and photographers had experimented with Adobe PhotoShop as a means of illustration, and this work had sparked much discussion about how credit lines should read beneath the images. The point was simple: The Courier-Journal wanted readers to understand the difference between real-life images and "manipulated" illustrations.

So everything was fine, just as the presentation editor assumed, until the following September when the Metro Desk began working on a story about Louisville's interest in taking on its red-light district. Throughout numerous news meeting discussions, editors discussed possible alternatives in illustrating (presenting) the package. A picture editor worked with a photographer to suggest ways of shooting a "strip joint" that would inform without inflaming.

The photographer shot the assignment, reviewed negatives with his picture editor, and offered six pictures that showed a scantily-clad dancer performing before some barely detectable patrons. Once those images were scanned into the AP LeafDesk server, day-side news editors reviewed the pictures and agreed on a pair of possibilities.

Proofs of those two images emerged from a Laserjet printer and were tucked into a folder for the weekend news layout team. The story was set for Sunday night production and Monday morning's paper.

The presentation editor left town that Friday afternoon for a family visit. The photographer didn't work that weekend. Neither did the picture editor who edited and helped with the assignment, nor were the dayside editors who looked at the original six selects. Everyone assumed everything was fine.

That Sunday night, however, the wheels came loose. When full-size proofs of the Courier-Journal's first-edition A-1 reached the copy desk, one editor noticed something about the dark underwear the stripper revealed as her leg kicked toward the ceiling: It looked like she wasn't wearing any.

The editor brought the proof to the attention of the night news editor, who'd months earlier received a reprimand for running a photo of a child in a bathing suit that her supervisor found distasteful. The night news editor, determined to do the right thing this time, called an assistant managing editor who'd participated in green-lighting the six Leaf images. The A.M.E. listened to the problem and agreed that something had to be done.

Then came another series of unfortunate assumptions. The A.M.E. asked about the other stuff in the LeafDesk, assuming that there were still five pictures left. But the LeafDesk as it is will do from time to time, ate four of the images. The remaining one, was an average picture, in no way worthy of appearing on the front page.

The night news editor replied that there wasn't any way it would work on the front page, assuming that the A.M.E. knew of the only other available picture. The night picture editor also assumed that the two images before her were the only possible options that evening. She didn't see any reason to seek out negatives or call the photographer.

The A.M.E., news editor, and picture editor all felt the crush of the next edition's deadline. So they made what they believed -- what they assumed -- was the only possible decision.


Click here to see larger view (70k) of this image.		Click here to see larger view (76k) of this image.

They manipulated the photo, drawing the hem of the stripper's sweater down below her waist, hiding the dark leotard underwear. The picture editor, who works three out her five workdays as a photographer, did the actual PhotoShop work. None of them felt comfortable about the decision. Faced with a choice between offending thousands of readers or feeling remorse over the ethical implications of the deed, they selected the latter.

They made the change in time for the third of the Courier-Journal's three editions that night -- the Metro edition, which goes to most of our readers. If the change had been made in the first edition, the only folks who would have known about it would have been newsroom employees.

Unfortunately, a local television station takes all of the Courier-Journal's editions, and they didn't miss the switch and covered it as a local news story.

The photographer and the picture editor found out about the switch when they opened up their papers that Monday morning. The presentation editor, who returned to Louisville Monday afternoon, learned about the situation that night, courtesy of the TV station's nightly broadcast. These three assumed that swift punishment would be handed out to all involved.

Instead, the newsroom was awash in a sea of calm. The only outraged readers to call the ombudsman were those unhappy with the story's subject matter, not the treatment of its images. The executive editor agreed that digital manipulation "was never something we want to do. In fact, we should never do it." Nevertheless, he agreed with the Sunday night crew that, under the circumstances, the correct decision was made.

Now, some 10 months after the incident, the law has been laid down. No digital manipulation of news photos under any circumstances. What does that mean? We assume it means a great many things.

We assume that our credit line language of "ILLUSTRATION BY JOE BLOW" distinguishes images in readers' eyes from the simple "PHOTO BY JOE BLOW" designation a photograph receives.
We assume that photographers, designers, editors, and other newsroom employees know the limits when they use the LeafDesk or PhotoShop's dodge, burn, and color-correction settings.
We assume that the photo editor and presentation editor will join with other news executives when problematic images appear in the LeafDesk.

We know a few things for certain. Our communication between dayside, night-side, and weekend editors has improved. We make more proofs, we put negatives in handy places and we make it plain to shooters that they can expect a phone call should any questions arise.

We also know that we're now susceptible to overcompensation. Recently, a picture appeared on the front page in which a subject's key personal information, albeit in small print, was plainly visible to all who read the paper that day. For obvious reasons, this writer cannot elaborate other than to say that the attending legal questions have not yet been put to rest. For the purposes of this discussion however, it is important to mention that manipulation of the image was never part of the equation in this case. We understood that we do not do it any more.

We assume that this will prove to be the right way of thinking.

Robert F. King is the former presentations editor at the Louisville Courier-Journal and is presently the sports design editor at The Philadelphia Inquirer.