Men can be so emotional can't they?
That slur so often applied to women came to mind as I read with horrified fascination the slanging match between Yusuf Abramjee, Chris Vick, Nic Dawes, and associated men, who have sensed blood and entered the fray.
How demeaning it is. Ironically a lot of the fight is about the Protection of Information Act, but it has descended to a name-calling brawl. It would not be surprising if those in the public read the venom in the missives of these leading journalists and wonder if they should allow us any room at all to fairly interpret the news. We are certainly not fair in dealing with our own.
Journalism gives us rare status. I can remember the first time I entered a newsroom as a very young reporter, I was horrified by seeing in front of me the single largest accumulation in one room of the sort of people my mother had always warned me about. But I quickly grew to love my profession; in it were some of the cleverest, most principled people I have ever met. Many were prepared to risk their lives in reporting apartheid; some still do in conflict zones around the world.
When picture bylines were introduced in the 1980s I resisted it. I did not believe the public were interested in what we looked like - I still don't believe they care, all they want is that we do our best to thoughtfully report and analyze the news. But picture bylines were the start of the ego-journalism that now drives media corporations and bloggers everywhere. It encourages journalists to believe we are more than the first writers of history; that we are more than the conduits of information and that we should question, balance, and are always fair.
Two decades ago I admired the sunglasses of a talented broadcast journalist, "oh they're from a fan," she tossed out. Journalists should not have fans, being popular has never been part of the job description.