Creeping Passivity : Newspapers’ Editorials: Where’s Old Thunder?

How much impact do newspaper editorials have?

Very little, most editorial writers concede.

Studies consistently show that readership of editorials is lower than for most news coverage in the paper, and as people have become more sophisticated (and more critical of the press), they have also become less inclined to turn to any authority figures (and especially not to the press) for advice on what to think

The people who do read editorials tend to be older, better-educated, more settled in the community, though; they’re generally the most important, most influential people in town--”the thinkers and movers,” in the words of David Young, an editorial writer at the Chicago Tribune.

Thus, on some local issues, editorials can have an impact, and virtually every paper, large or small, can point to the occasional example of a city council or a school board or other civic agency acting on its suggestions.

On important social issues and national and foreign policy questions, however, most editorial writers acknowledge that they have little influence on readers or policy-makers.

The Washington Post sometimes influences the federal bureaucracy--largely because the Post is the “local” paper in Washington; the New York Times sometimes influences national policy decisions--primarily because the Times is the most prestigious and authoritative paper in the country.

But the New York Times probably influences other newspapers’ editorial policy more than it influences government policy or readers’ opinions.

Editors and editorial writers across the country read the New York Times daily, and while they are not necessarily persuaded by its views on a given subject, the New York Times does help set the agenda and frame the issues for their own editorials.

Roger Conner, executive director of the Federation for American Immigration Reform, said that when the New York Times editorializes on immigration, he sees “30, 40, 50 editorials in the next 10 days” in other papers.

“It’s as if someone dropped a rock in the ocean on the East Coast and it created a wave and rolled right across the United States and back,” Conner said. “That has repercussions on Capitol Hill.”

Timing Important

Still, only when an issue is “so compelling that it creates a strong consensus (among many newspapers), do editorials have an impact (on public policy),” Conner said, “and even then, the timing has to be just right.”

Otherwise, said Acel Moore, associate editor of the Philadelphia Inquirer, echoing words used by two other editorial writers interviewed for this story: “Writing editorials is a lot like wearing a navy blue suit and standing in a rainstorm on a cold day and wetting your pants; it may give you a warm feeling for a minute, but no one else is going to notice.”

The general quality of editorial writing may have something to do with this.

Thirty-five years ago, the quarterly journal of the National Conference of Editorial Writers printed an article that described most newspaper editorials as “merely an endless stream of poorly selected words grouped into dull, hard-to-digest phrases spreading out into lifeless sentences that finally impart a zombie-like quality to the completed paragraph, making the whole thing about as interesting to read as a thesis on the celebration of wood ticks.”

Five years ago, in the introduction to a collection of more than 50 years of Pulitzer Prize-winning editorials--”America’s Best Editorial Writing,” according to the title page--author David W. Sloan said: “The most obvious characteristic of many (of the prize-winning editorials) is their ordinariness. . . . A large number of them seem to have at least one of two common problems: dullness of writing and lack of unity. Dullness seems much more prevalent today than in the early years of the award.”

Whither the Thunder?

Why? Whatever happened to the thundering editorials of yesteryear, the editorials that helped precipitate the Spanish-American War, that demanded the execution of Sacco and Vanzetti, that could “send a screaming mob to . . . City Hall or provoke an ill-prepared Union Army into fighting the Battle of Bull Run,” in the words of Kenneth Rystorm, author of “The Why, Who and How of the Editorial Page”?

The demise of personal, partisan journalism--those early American newspapers that were run by strong-minded editors determined to save (or at least to convert) the world--and the concomitant rise of a corporate, conglomerate press is but one explanation for this striking change. Equally important, newspapers and the people who own, edit and write for them are generally better-educated, more sophisticated, more willing to recognize that most public policy issues are terribly complex and that there is usually more than one side to most questions.

The phenomenon of the monopoly newspaper has contributed significantly to this development. When a city had three or four or five newspapers, each could stake out its daily editorial positions unequivocally, confident that other views on the same issue would be stated just as unequivocally by the opposition. Moreover, there was little worry about offending readers because most readers bought only those papers whose opinions they agreed with.

Today, however, 98% of all American cities have only one newspaper, and editors realize that they have an obligation to acknowledge divergent points of view. They also know that many readers subscribe not because they agree with the paper but because it’s the only paper in town; if a paper is too strident too often, well, readers who disagree but want to remain well-informed can now turn to television, news magazines and a wide range of specialty publications that did not exist a generation ago.

Subjects for Thought

Thus, today’s editorials try to tell people what subjects to think about , not just what to think--to establish a framework for intelligent discussion of important issues, not just to “call balls and strikes on public events that are on the front page,” in the words of Jack Rosenthal, deputy editor of the New York Times editorial page.

To do this, editorial writers increasingly try to fashion persuasive arguments with information, logic and a consideration of opposing points of view, rather than with bombast, bluster and a rigid certainty of the unassailable rectitude of their own positions. The result is more responsible and reasoned editorial writing--but also, often, a stultifying evenhandedness, marked most noticeably by (1) suggestions for “further study” and “careful consideration” (2) an over-reliance on such editorial-page catch phrases as “on the one hand . . . on the other hand” (Washington Post, Oct. 11, 1984) and “Only time will tell” (New York Times, May 13, 1984) and (3) observations that “only experience can answer” certain questions (Los Angeles Times, Jan. 17, 1985).

Meg Greenfield, editorial page editor of the Washington Post, grew so concerned about the “stuffy . . . complacent . . . condescending . . . grandiose” prose of some editorials that she sent a memo to her staff a few years ago, listing various words and phrases she wanted them to avoid.

Some newspapers have tried to brighten their editorial columns in other ways, by editing more imaginatively or by hiring writers specifically for their lively writing styles or by occasionally publishing brief, light editorials on offbeat subjects. A few papers have even institutionalized this practice; the New York Times now regularly groups short editorial essays under the heading “Topics;” the Wall Street Journal does much the same thing under the heading “Asides.”

Food for Thought

But the primary purpose of the newspaper editorial is to offer serious thoughts on serious issues--to cram a substantial amount of information and argument into a small space--and that process does not easily lend itself to sprightly writing.

In fact, Robert L. Bartley, editor of the editorial page of the Wall Street Journal, thinks the trend toward determination of editorial policy by a board of editors and writers, rather than by a single editor or publisher, may contribute significantly to the dreary prose that pervades many editorial pages.

“The danger of this kind of collegial process,” Bartley said, “(is) if everybody’s view has to be taken into account, it becomes more difficult . . . to come out with something that’s crisp.”

But to call the editorial process “collegial”--as most editorial writers do--is somewhat misleading. Yes, editorial boards meet and discuss editorial positions. Yes, editorial writers are supposed to incorporate in their editorials the arguments their colleagues make on the opposing side. But editorial boards do not take votes. The expertise of the individual writer on a given subject generally counts for more than the collegial process, and the authority of the editorial page editor--operating within a general framework laid down by the publisher or editor--counts most of all.

A Valuable Tool

Still, the process itself is important, and it does have a collegial aspect to it. Editors and writers alike say that they often are persuaded by their colleagues to change their minds in the course of these meetings, and virtually every editorial page editor and writer interviewed for this story (Bartley included) spoke enthusiastically of the editorial board meeting as a valuable tool in sharpening both thinking and writing.

Stephen S. Rosenfeld, deputy editor of the Washington Post editorial page, said the daily meetings are “continually intellectually nourishing . . . the heart of our work.”

John Anderson, a Post editorial writer, said the meetings force the writers to confront new ideas; on days when circumstances force cancellation of the Post’s editorial board meeting, Anderson said, there is a tendency for writers to “retreat to safe subjects . . . Class B subjects . . . to write about what they’ve written about before.”

So what are these editorial board meetings like?

To some extent, the issues of the day dictate the nature of the meetings. In a time of political polarization--during the Vietnam War, for example--meetings can be tumultuous. But regardless of what is happening in the outside world, the meetings vary considerably in tone and setting--and in the editorials they produce.

Styles Differ Widely

Some papers have meetings (and editorials) that are routinely strident; some are routinely subdued. Some editorial writers jump into every debate; others read newspapers while their colleagues are talking. Some meetings are in formal conference rooms; others are in an editor’s office. Some meetings are limited to the editorial page editor and his writers; others include the publisher, the editor, a columnist or two, even the staff cartoonist. Some editorial writers bring to the meeting--and distribute to their colleagues--brief, written summaries of their ideas; others come to the meetings with a few notes scrawled on a piece of scratch paper; some prepare nothing at all.

To analyze this process, a Los Angeles Times reporter recently sat in on meetings at five major papers--the Wall Street Journal, Los Angeles Times, Chicago Tribune, Philadelphia Inquirer and Boston Globe--and interviewed the editorial page editors and writers at these papers as well as at two papers (the New York Times and Washington Post) that would not permit him to attend their meetings.

This is how it’s done at the Los Angeles Times:

LOS ANGELES TIMES Editorial writers at The Times were sitting around their conference table one day early this year, discussing a report by an independent counsel that said that there were no grounds for criminal prosecution of Edwin Meese III on the charges that then clouded his nomination to be U.S. attorney general.

Lee Dembart pointed out that since Watergate, no independent counsel had found any evidence of illegal behavior by anyone in four separate investigations during two different administrations. Dembart said he would like to write an editorial suggesting that the whole concept of an independent counsel was worthless and should be discarded.

Anthony Day, editor of The Times editorial pages, said the idea was a good one. “Be sure you point out that we opposed the creation of the independent counsel’s office in the first place,” Day said. “We said then it would be cumbersome, and it would permit the administration in power to evade responsibility for its own misdeeds.”

Moves to Other Topics

The meeting then moved on to other topics.

But The Times, alone among major newspapers surveyed for this story, has a second editorial board meeting most days--a brief meeting designed to let the news editors know what the editorial positions are going to be and, simultaneously, to give the editorial writers a chance to hear the insights the news executives have gathered from their own, usually different experiences.

After the first 45- to 60-minute meeting, Day, his deputy and the board members scheduled to write the next day’s editorials (and any other editorial writers who are interested) walk across the hall to this second meeting--with Publisher Tom Johnson, Editor William F. Thomas and the seven other top-ranking editors of the paper’s news operation.

Day usually introduces each proposed editorial with a one-sentence summary of the issue and the position to be taken, then asks the writer to explain further. On this day, as soon as Dembart finished his short presentation, Thomas and several others criticized the editorial.

The concept of the independent counsel had not been invalidated just because nothing illegal had been found in these four cases, they said; maybe all four men were innocent of any illegal activity. Moreover, three top news editors argued, if there were no independent counsel, such investigations either would not take place at all or they would be conducted by the administration itself--”and I don’t think any administration can be expected to investigate itself . . . or to be believed if it does,” Thomas said, echoing what seemed to be the majority sentiment around the table.

‘A Pocket Veto’

“Why don’t we think this out some more,” Thomas finally suggested--which, in the gentlemanly way things are generally done at The Times, amounted to what politicians call (and what Thomas later conceded was) “a pocket veto.” The editorial would not be written.

In practice, editorials are seldom killed or even changed significantly in that second meeting, and the session is usually routine.

“I will not let an editorial go in the newspaper that I can’t live with or that I think puts the paper in a position it shouldn’t be put in,” Thomas said, “but lots of editorials go into the newspaper with which I don’t completely agree.”

If he does not “feel strongly” about a subject and thinks the opposing side has “a tenable position,” Thomas said, he will not object to publication of an editorial.

“We’ve been working together a long time,” Thomas said. Serious disagreement “doesn’t happen too often.”

Not Always the Case

That was not always the case, though.

In the 1960s--when Thomas was still metropolitan editor, when controversy over the Vietnam War was at its frenzied peak and when The Times was just beginning its transformation from the doctrinaire Republicanism of its first 80 years to the independent stance it generally takes today--Day said the second meeting was often “very rancorous. . . . There used to be a good deal of yelling and screaming.”

One would never guess that sitting in on editorial board meetings at The Times today.

Day is a cultivated, Harvard-educated intellectual who prizes gentility, civility and collegiality, and--largely because of the tone he establishes--Times editorial board meetings tend to be the most calm (and the most structured) of those at any major newspaper.

As at other papers, some editorials at The Times are written a day or two (or more) ahead of time, and are not used right away. But unlike most newspapers--where there is usually no certainty about what editorials will be in the next day’s paper until mid-afternoon--or sometimes early evening--Day and his staff usually have a good idea of what the editorials will be by the time they are through with their first meeting, at about 10:15 a.m.

Makes Adjustments

Indeed, Day usually ends that meeting by announcing (tentatively) what the editorials for the next day will be and by asking each writer how much space he will need. Day will then make a quick calculation and, perhaps, suggest slight changes in the length or mix, if necessary, to achieve the fit required for the next day’s space. The editorial lineup can be changed later, of course, if events so dictate, but most are usually written and submitted by early afternoon, several hours earlier than at most other major papers examined for this story.

Day usually begins this daily process at 9:10 a.m., when his deputy, Jack Burby, comes into his office for about 10 minutes to discuss editorials already written and subjects to be considered for the next day. At 9:20, they walk across the hall into the conference room to join the eight editorial writers.

Editorial board meetings at most newspapers include a certain amount of lighthearted banter on personal matters having nothing to do with the business at hand, and this is especially true at The Times’ meetings. But in and around this banter, Day asks each writer, in turn, what he would like to write about that day in his area of expertise (or in any other area, for that matter). Each writer usually has at least one idea, and the other writers, on occasion, join in with their own views on the various issues as they are brought up.

If Day likes an idea, he will say so (“You’re right. That’s important. Let’s do it.”). If Day disagrees with the proposal or deems it unworthy of an editorial, he may say why or he may not. Unlike most other editorial page editors, who often argue vigorously with their writers and sometimes sharply reject their suggestions, Day is just as likely to demur with only a soft word or two--or to remain silent. Further discussion does not often ensue.

Welcomes Dissent

Day said that he does not intend to discourage dissent--he said he welcomes it, in fact--but there is less of it at Times editorial board meetings than at other major papers.

Gayle Pollard, who wrote editorials for the Boston Globe before coming to the Los Angeles Times last year, said the difference between the mannerliness of Times editorial board meetings and the often contentious meetings at other newspapers--especially big-city newspapers in the East and Midwest--may simply be a reflection of the differences in the cities involved.

“Boston is a loud, mean, aggressive city,” Pollard said. “Los Angeles isn’t.”

Other editorial writers--at The Times and elsewhere--said the process is both more personal and more subtle than that.

“You start to learn what will fly,” is the way editorial writers at several papers describe the process of adjusting their views to those of their editors.

Learns Perspective

‘I covered the (federal) regulatory agencies (before joining The Times),” said Kay Mills, an editorial writer at The Times. “I have a pretty hands-on view of government regulation. . . . (But) I just very quickly learned that my point of view about regulation wasn’t the paper’s point of view, wasn’t Tony’s, really . . . so I don’t propose too many federal regulatory editorials any more.”

Unlike virtually all other editorial page editors, Day seldom writes editorials himself anymore. Nor does he or Burby heavily edit most of the staff’s editorials. But Day’s personality influences the tone of The Times editorial page just as surely as do editors elsewhere who write frequently and edit severely.

Under Day, Times editorials are generally better-written, more thoughtful, more liberal and more wide-ranging than in earlier generations. But amid this (relatively) new-found respectability--in an atmosphere of relentless civility--critics say Times editorials also tend to be dull.

Phil Kerby, the paper’s recently retired, Pulitzer Prize-winning editorial writer, has strong praise for his former colleagues and employer, but he also worries that the paper’s editorials are “at times, a little too civilized, a little too moderate.”

Not Acceptable

Although Thomas acknowledges this problem, he said: “The trouble with departing from reasonable, sensible . . . editorials is that you’ll take stupid positions. That’s not, to me, an acceptable alternative.”

Indeed, for that very reason, Day lamented, “Dullness is the bane of editorial pages” everywhere. Moreover, Day pointed out, The Times does take strong stands sometimes; the paper was very critical of Meese, for example, and it was one of the first major papers to call for the resignation of James G. Watt as secretary of the Interior.

But the criticism of the paper’s lack of editorial fire persists in many quarters.

The Los Angeles Times seems “reluctant to take forceful positions,” said Jack Fuller, editor of the editorial page of the Chicago Tribune. “It seems less willing to raise its voice (than do other papers).”

Publisher Johnson himself said he thinks highly of the paper’s editorial board, but even he conceded: “At times, we . . . make such an effort to be sensible and logical, perhaps we’re not as passionate as we might be. . . .”

Susanna Shuster of The Times editorial library assisted with research for this story.