The Trump Express is a dangerous ride

First, he went after the Mexicans. Then he went after the Muslims. Who's next?

Growing up in Queens, NY, I knew at least a half-dozen guys like Donald Trump. The blowhards I remember were all above average or outstanding in at least one facet of adolescent life. Good looking, smart, a legitimate “tough guy” or maybe an exceptional athlete or student, these loudmouths all had one thing in common. They were narcissists who believed their abilities or gifts entitled them to show others what to do or how to live their lives. The implied payoff was that if you follow their lead you will be like them and share in whatever notoriety or popularity they enjoyed. Those who followed the blowhards quickly learned that it was never about them, the followers, but always about burnishing the reputation or popularity of the narcissist. This type of person can come from anywhere; I just happen to find Trump's version familiar because we grew up in the same area.

So go ahead if you think the Donald is the answer. Jump on his train and see where it takes you. Despite his promises, you’ll find out in the end none of what he is selling is really about the greater good. Ultimately, it’s all about him. That’s the way it always is with these guys.

That's my view. 

Speaking of Sports (Not Only for Sports Fans)

"Speaking of Sports" is the name used by the late Howard Cosell for his radio reports on the ABC Networks. Cosell was more than a sports reporter and analyst. He connected the world of sports with the world itself. He became a champion for boxing champion Muhammad Ali. Howard Cosell could be bombastic but also eloquent. He made sports about more than a game, a match, a bout, a contest. Cosell would remind us that sports and society are intertwined and that sport often leads the larger culture in social change. Jackie Robinson's entry into Major League Baseball preceded the civil rights act by almost two decades. Muhammad Ali brought the Vietnam War into sharp focus by his conscientious objection to serving. And the massacre of Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics exposed the vulnerability of peaceful events to the tactics of terrorists.

Avid sports fans know well what Cosell was talking about when he extrapolated the world of sports and placed it in its larger role in international relations and domestic policy. The perpetrators of this month’s attacks in Paris chose a “friendly” football (soccer) match as one of the prime targets for their brutality. Sports at the highest level attract attention. Big events draw big audiences on television and in stadiums around the world. Watching great athletes is observing a form of artistry like no other. A LionelMessi goal from a seemingly impossible pass, LeBron James sinking a 25 foot bank shot while barely looking at the hoop, or Serena Williams hitting a down the line winner while running at full speed and off-balance, show us the fullest potential of physical achievement in a way that is satisfying and fun. To steal a phrase from ABC Sports of the late last century, “the human drama of athletic competition, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat,” remind us that we are human, capable of greatness but always vulnerable.

Reports of cheating and corruption have tainted big time sports at the highest level. The NFL’s “Deflate Gate,” and FIFA’s top tier payoffs and charges of international bribery rightfully embarrass businesses that support the artistry of great athletes. And the cover-ups regarding concussions and more serious head injuries in gridiron football are a disgrace to that sport and the exploitation of athletes at its worst. Yet kids in America will put on helmets and strive to lead a team and throw a funny shaped “ball” with the accuracy and composure of Russell Wilson. Children around the world will lace up their cleats and play what we in the USA call “soccer” with hopes of running fast and striking the ball like Ronaldo or blocking shots with the reflexes of Hope Solo. These young dreams are real and joyful in ways impossible to explain to those who have not played at even the lowest level or who don’t appreciate the beauty of elite athletes at work.

As an ordinary sports fan who long ago gave up dreams of being the next Koufax or Clemente, I am hoping sports can once again lead the way. Our corrupt sporting institutions must purge themselves of exploitative liars whose main concern is their own enrichment. The illusion of fair play and concern for athletes has to be replaced by actual caring organizations that put the welfare of players before profits. With the world on edge and some politicians attempting to appeal to our worst instead of our best, sports can once again take a leading role in improving lives. The sports world can set an example of excellence with unselfish concern for those who provide uplifting moments on the field for those in the stands and beyond.

Real reform in big-time sports is unlikely anytime soon unless there are financial consequences for maintaining the status quo. But, the sports world has led the way before. So, there is hope. And as John Lennon put it, “You may say that I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”

Empathy in the Age of Facebook

Prior to the November 13^th terrorist attacks in Paris, I was thinking about how we interact on Facebook and other social media. Some “friends” share extremely personal details of their lives, everything from happy news of weddings and life cycle milestones to breakups, illnesses and deaths. Often, the response is a heartfelt “like” although liking bad news always seems a bit odd. Posts and responses about news--good and bad--are shared according to one’s privacy settings.

Because of today’s technology we are in touch with friends and contacts from decades ago; this makes the process even more intriguing. So when cataclysmic events shock and anger us, the responses and opinions shared can be both inspiring and terribly disturbing. We quickly learn—or have reinforced—who blames George W. Bush for getting us involved in Iraq or Barack Obama for getting us out. Sometimes, the vehemence of the comments is shocking and ridiculously personal. Questioning President Obama’s loyalty to the United States or his legal right to be president damages the questioner’s credibility even though it may endear him or her to like-minded followers. And those on the left who want to stifle all expression of views rooted in another time or born of  “white privilege” do a disservice because they prevent their more current and sometimes enlightened views from standing persuasively on their own merit. Banning speakers from universities is a disturbing trend. Those who spew hatred should not be invited. But differing political perspectives should not be grounds for bans. Remember, as Paulo Freire and others have pointed out, those subject to oppression can become oppressive themselves when they gain power.

Freedom of expression has always been a cherished value. So when I see comments at odds with my own views in response to my posts, I almost always let them stand. If there are factual errors I will point them out. In the words of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Lewis Powell, “Under the First Amendment there is no such thing a false idea. However pernicious an opinion may seem, we depend for its correction not on the conscience of judges and juries, but on the competition of other ideas. (Gertz vs. Robert Welch,1974).” And that’s the law of the land. False facts, on the other hand, deserve to be exposed and corrected.

So the question emerges, in the age of Facebook, do our differences become magnified while our ability to see others’ points of view diminishes? Can we really care about our “friends”, “like” the pictures they post of the new puppy or grandchild, but still respect them when they post political views sharply at odds with our own? More importantly, do we care? I ask the last question rhetorically and seriously. And my answer is that we should care. It’s too easy to write off a comment, with which we disagree or even find offensive, when the person making it is only real in our lives because we knew him or her decades ago. Ultimately, the root question is whether real dialogue can happen on social media. Or is it, to use the words of Stephen Stills, just a digital version of "carrying signs (that) mostly say hooray for our side (For What It's Worth, 1966)." If we only get our information from sources that reinforce our own views, we wind up in echo chambers and bubbles. So seek out different media. That is actually one of the best things about Facebook; if you have a diverse group of “friends” they will post from a range of media.

My hope is that on the grass roots level we can elevate the discourse and be empathetic about more than the tragedies and joys, personal and global, where it is easy to agree. Maybe our politicians could learn a few things. But having worked as a newsman for decades, I doubt the tone of political and cultural disagreements will change anytime soon. The challenge is for us to resist the crass and try to treat even those with whom we disagree with respect. But let’s agree that lies and falsehood are real enemies.

Brian Williams: Who knew and when did they know it?

Another thought on Brian Williams' recent apology for misstatements.

When I was running TV newsrooms I would often say that TV news is a team sport. Very little happens in a vacuum. Reporters don't get on the air without news photographers, engineers, editors, and producers. Brian Williams was not alone on that army helicopter in 2003. Others had to know, at different levels of the organization, that the version of events now in question was questionable. Very little happened in my newsroom without somebody "whispering in my ear" about what really happened out in the field. That's just the way it works. Another one of my adages: there are no secrets in newsrooms.

Brian Williams: Apology, memory, the fog of war or something else?

 
We learned this week that Brian Williams made misstatements about events in Iraq involving a downed US Army helicopter forced to land by enemy fire in 2003. Williams told audiences, on more than one occasion, that he was on that helicopter. Last night, on The NBC Nightly News, Williams apologized to the public and the soldiers on board the downed chopper. He told viewers he had not been on that aircraft. Instead, he was on a different helicopter, in the same group, that arrived on the ground later. He was moved to make the admission after a soldier who had been on the downed aircraft questioned Williams' version. But now, the pilot of the helicopter Williams was in says they did take small arms fire.  This may explain some inconsistencies in Williams' earlier statements.

Williams “explained” his earlier misstatements by saying he “conflated” what happened to his own chopper with the one that actually took heavier enemy fire and was forced to land. Blaming the fog of memory, he apologized and then spoke of his support and admiration for members of the military who do what they do.

So, at best, Williams has a flawed memory of memorable events confusing details that others who were there remember more clearly. At worst, he’s more interested in burnishing his own role and experience than reporting the truth. As more information emerges, viewers and the bosses at NBC will have to decide whether to give Williams the benefit of doubt or assume the worst.

Anchoring a television newscast is much more difficult than it looks. The ease with which good anchors do their jobs is an illusion. In large markets and at the network level, teams of writers, producers, engineers, technicians, and video craftsmen and women make it all work smoothly and seamlessly. The “talent” (that’s the person you see on the screen reading the news: The Anchor) has to be a good communicator and is usually physically attractive. Anchors earn huge sums of money for their work, millions of dollars a year for those at the top.

During times of crisis good anchors sometimes work for days at a time with little sleep. During the aftermath of 9/11, Tom Brokaw and Peter Jennings informed the nation with fine reporting and the ability to communicate clearly. They put events in context as the world watched in disbelief at what had happened in lower Manhattan, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania. Others anchored and reported responsibly and appropriately but Jennings and Brokaw stood out. They demonstrated to the nation and world why they were in such important positions by their professionalism during a frightening time. They helped us through those terrible days.

Given the importance of an anchorman or woman’s role, NBC will have to make some tough calls about Williams’ future. He is a talented man and by most accounts a good guy. And he’s very good at his job, at least he has been for most of his career. But can he recover and regain the trust of the public? It is critically important that viewers know the news is honestly reported and presented. More information will emerge as others who were with Williams come forward.

In the early days of network television news, Walter Cronkite was known as the “most trusted man in America.” Brian Williams will never rise to that level of esteem in the public’s eyes. Times have changed and audiences are much more fragmented. The question is can he win the trust of viewers who rely on him and his network for daily doses of news and for more in-depth reporting during times of crisis. He can do so only if there is an honest accounting of how and why his earlier misstatements were made and why they continued to be repeated until a soldier who was there when a chopper went down called out the anchorman by presenting the truth.