Free internet journalism from corporate advertising

Attention class. Here’s today’s new word: “Native advertising.” Okay, that’s two words. But it’s one concept, and it has nothing to do with native people. Rather, it’s a phrase sprung on us by the wonky wordsmiths of internet media, who also refer to it as “brand content,” meaning that these particular web pages are not articles, but paid advertizing. But they don’t want to be too explicit about distinguishing between genuine news items and ad hustles.
Why not? Money, of course.
In today’s fledgling web publications – from such newbies as BuzzFeed to the digital versions of old-line pubs like the New York Times – there’s been a blurring of the line between the publications’ legitimate journalistic content and the faux “stories” that are provided by marketers and designed to look like real articles from non-biased news sources. For readers and viewers, the questions are obvious: Whose stuff is this, and what can I trust?
The best ethical response by online publishers would be to draw a bright line around all “branded content,” perhaps with some flashing neon lights and honking horns to announce: “This is an ad.” But no. While internet publishers say they seek journalistic integrity, they’re hungrier still for advertisers’ dollars, so their game is to flash just enough integrity without losing the bucks.
That’s a losing game for integrity. Media analyst Bob Garfield notes that the very effectiveness of native advertising depends on it being confused with editorial content. Eliminate the confusion, and the ethical failure diminishes, he says, but “what will also diminish to near vanishing point is the readership of those adverts.”
Any media so dependent on corporate money that it resorts to deceiving its audience is – in a word – “dependent.” Also, “untrustworthy.” We need public funding to free the independence of journalism on the web.
“Times Publisher Sets Out Plan for ‘Native’ Ads,” The New York Times, December 20, 2013.

Bastrop’s new war toy

What a Christmas little Bastrop had! It’s still a mystery how Santa Clause got it down the chimney, but Bastrop got a present boys dream about: A big honkin’, steel-clad, war toy called MRAP.
But Bastrop is not a 6-year-old boy, and an MRAP is not a toy. Bastrop is a Texas county of some 75,000 people, and MRAP stands for “Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected.” It’s a heavily-armored military vehicle – one of several versions of war tanks that have become the hot, must-have playthings of police departments all across the country.
Are the good people of Bastrop facing some imminent terrorist threat that warrants military equipment? No, it’s a very pleasant, laid-back place. And while the county is named for a 19th century land developer from the Netherlands who was wanted for embezzlement in his home country, the relatively few crimes in Bastrop today don’t rise above the level of routine police work.
Even the Sheriff’s department, which is the proud owner of the MRAP, says it doesn’t have a particular use for the war machine, but “It’s here if we need it.” Well, yeah… but that same feeble rational would apply if the county decided to get an atom bomb – you just never know when a big mushroom cloud might come in handy! The Pentagon, which gave the MRAP to Bastrop, and our sprawling Department of Homeland Security, are haphazardly spreading war equipment, war techniques, and a war mentality to what are supposed to be our communities’ peacekeepers and crime solvers.
Having the technology and mind-set for military actions, local authorities will find excuses to substitute them for honest police work, turning common citizens into suspects and enemies. As a spokesman for the Bastrop sheriff’s department said of the MRAP, “With today’s society… there’s no way the thing won’t be used.” How comforting is that?
“Bastrop adds military vehicle,” Austin American Statesman, December 22, 2013.

The spreading plague of antibacterial products

Have you had your daily minimum requirement of triclosan today? How about your dosage of triclocarban?
Chances are you have, but don’t know it. These two are antimicrobial chemicals, which might sound like a good thing, except that they disrupt the human body’s normal regulatory processes. Animal studies show, for example, that these triclos can be linked to the scrambling of hormones in children, disruption of puberty and of the reproductive system, decreases in thyroid hormone levels that affect brain development, and other serious health problems.
Yet, corporations have slipped them into all sorts of consumer products, pushing them with a blitz of advertising that claim the antibacterial ingredients prevent the spread of infections. The two chemicals were originally meant for use by surgeons to cleanse their hands before operations, but that tiny application has now proliferated like a plague, constantly exposing practically everyone to small amounts here, there, and everywhere, adding up to dangerous mega-doses.
Triclosan and triclocarban were frirst mixed into soaps, but then – BOOM! – brand-name corporations went wild, putting these hormone disrupters into about 2,000 products, including toothpaste, mouthwashes, fabrics, and (most astonishingly) even into baby pacifiers! Today, use of the chemicals is so prevalent that they can be found in the urine of three-fourths of Americans. They also accumulate in groundwater and soil, so they saturate our environment and eventually ourselves – one study found them in the breast milk of 97 percent of women tested.
For decades, corporate lobbying and regulatory meekness let this chemical menace spread. But now the Food & Drug Administration is finally questioning the continued use of the two triclos. For more information and action, go to the Natural Resources Defense Council: www.nrdc.org.
“F.D.A. Questions Safety of Antibacterial Soaps,” The New York Times, December 17, 2013.