Fake News?

On June 4, 2004 one or more pictures like the ones shown here appeared on the cover of every major newspaper in Canada. The older gentleman on the left of each of these photos is my father. At the time he was 83 years old. The incident depicted took place at a Stephen Harper rally in Guelph, Ontario.

The story, as reported in each and every paper, identified my father as a thug who took a swing at a 58 year old protester in the audience who represented the group Canadians for Equal Marriage. The National Post claimed that my dad had poked the protester with the stick. People were calling for him to be arrested. The result was to paint a picture of Harper supporters as homophobic and violent. Not a single reporter made an effort to get the story right. In fact, none of them even bothered to learn of my father’s identity. No need. They got the story they wanted the public to hear.

The truth of the matter is that the stick belonged to the 58 year old protester who was waving it around dangerously close to my 80 year-old mother. In the midst of the commotion Dad grabbed the sign, and took what he called a mild swing to defend himself. Dad didn’t even know the fellow was advocating for same-sex marriage. Rather he just grumbled about this “crazy liberal.”

It was not until June 13 that one journalist from one newspaper published a correct version of the story in the Toronto Sun. Mark Bonokoski visited my parents in their home to discover that my dad was not some crazy redneck conservative homophobe, but rather a soft spoken father, grandfather, and great grandfather, who puttered in his garage, took care of his bird feeders and pear trees, and shared household chores with my mom. The corrected version did not appear on the first page but it was ample in size and included a nice picture of my parents. I will always be thankful to Mr. Bonokoski for his determination to get the story right when every other paper in the country was quite happy to leave the record uncorrected while a man’s reputation has been damaged.


My dad passed away two years later. Today (October 10) is the anniversary of his passing. The world has largely forgotten the events of that day. My trust in news media has never quite recovered. I chuckle a bit when Donald Trump freely calls any news he doesn’t like, Fake News. I presume that most news is not fake, but his campaign to discredit news gatherers is successful because of cases like my dad’s story where every paper and television network in the country failed to get it right. They were not interested in getting it right. They were interested in building the narrative that Harper and his supporters were unsophisticated hooligans and homophobes.

It is now 2018. Do we see any evidence that anything has changed? Do reporters care whether or not they get the story right? What do journalism schools teach? Do they instruct students in the art of building a narrative with or without the the benefit of truth? Do they select from among the applicants to their programs, seeking future journalists who will fit the ideological profile that media outlets are looking for? Are journalism professors successfully cloning their students in their own image? I don’t know the answers to any of these questions.

And what about media outlets? How did it come to be that the overwhelming majority of reporters either blatantly or in subtle ways demonstrate left of centre, and politically correct views? Are they acting freely or are they scripted by their employers? Again, I don’t know.

What I do know is that I long for a day when news is presented without a spin to the left or to the right. I would like to be trusted to interpret the events of each day on my own. I do not believe that it is the task of a journalist to express opinions. I do appreciate it when two or more sides of an issue are presented fairly and equally and when the analysis of experts is presented.

I also long for a day when politicians answer the questions they are asked. Too often politicians will beat around the bush or give a scripted non-answer in the face of a question. Is it possible that better journalism might address that too?

What if journalists said thank-you when given an answer, whether or not they agreed with it? What if journalists saved their toughest demeanour for those occasions when a question remains unanswered? What if there was no such thing as a set of politically correct views which create a pattern for the Canada that journalists want? What if journalists got out of the city once in a while to find out about the other Canada; the one that has farms, and logging camps, and pipelines, and rifles, and oil wells, and gravel roads?  Maybe that’s asking too much. How about if journalists just came to understand the practical perspectives of working people like carpenters, and plumbers, and mechanics, and electricians? What if the journalists let Canada write its own story, rather than fit Canada into a story sanctioned by urban elites? What if journalists cared about the truth, even when it conflicts with the story they collectively seek to write?

I am sure that my Dad’s story is not unique. His is the story victimization at the hands of a powerful group of like-minded spokespersons for the age in which we live, wielding their pens and keyboards with no regard for the hurt they may cause, and too little energy to dig deep enough to find the real story. One notable exception, of course was Mark Bonokoski. May every faculty of journalism everywhere make him the prototype for future graduates and seekers of truth.