Journalists should not be attacked for doing their jobs.
To a rational reader that statement will seem obvious. You might even wonder why you should keep reading.
Here’s why:
Physical attacks, emotional abuse, threats, vile screeds rooted in racism and misogyny — all of these are increasingly directed at journalists with the not-so-subtle goal of scaring us from doing our jobs.
Everyone who believes in guarding against unchecked power in government, corporate board rooms or other seats of influence should worry.
And you should stay informed about the disturbing trend so you don’t take journalism or journalists for granted. That includes stopping to consider the personal toll of these attacks on those who endure them, around the world and right here in Seattle.
After the Sept. 10 presidential debate, The Seattle Times ran a fact check refuting former President Trump’s statement that protesters in 2020 “took over a big percentage of the city of Seattle.”
While CHOP indeed made headlines for weeks, Trump’s exaggeration of its size was pure political theater. By implying incorrectly that much of the city had devolved into chaos, he intended to stoke fear and gain votes.
Hence the reality check, which included this fact: The three-week Capitol Hill Organized Protest, or CHOP, occupied six city blocks.
Six blocks amount to roughly .00015 of the 84-square-mile city, or a small fraction of 1%. And I rounded up.
Our story did not claim the protest hadn’t happened. It did not claim CHOP was entirely peaceful. In fact, it detailed incidents of violence that occurred there and recapped some criminal cases that resulted.
And yet, an irrational mob swarmed on X and other platforms, claiming that we reported CHOP wasn’t real. Tens of thousands piled on, apparently without ever reading the actual story. The rumor brushfire, accusing us of a lie, was fanned by none other than X owner Elon Musk and conservative commentator Megyn Kelly, reaching tens of millions of their followers. Frenzied fanatics then turned against the reporter who wrote the story, Vonnai Phair.
Lest you think virtual venom isn’t that poisonous: It frequently finds its way into “real” life.
In this case, Phair, a Black woman, received emails and voicemails with the most vulgar racist and sexist attacks imaginable. At least some of her attackers — yes, I’m intentionally calling them that — told her they wished she were dead. One said she should be executed. Another said she shouldn’t feel safe outside. Quite a few called for her to be fired.
Then one of them found her personal email address.
That’s when she started worrying about her physical safety.
She wondered if she’d be safe at home: “I was very scared. I just didn’t know.”
Around the world, journalists have been imprisoned for simply asking questions. Abroad and here in the United States — in Las Vegas two years ago, for example — reporters have been assassinated because they were digging for the truth about powerful people.
Here at The Seattle Times, those two extreme scenarios haven’t played out. But we have had to rush journalists and their families to hotel rooms to ensure their safety. We’ve had police posted outside reporters’ homes because of realistic, tangible threats. We’ve hired private security guards and bought tactical gear — helmets and bulletproof vests — to use in the streets of Seattle because of threats to our staff. We’ve invested in therapy when employees needed help coping.
And as in this case, we’ve turned to digital tools that help obscure our private information from the online mobsters who might just use it.
Phair did employ one of those digital services after the fact, to help protect her privacy online. She also took a week off work and turned to a therapist to sort through her feelings.
Her managers helped monitor her messages in hopes she could avoid the worst of the attacks. Unfortunately, it’s important in these cases to read the messages thoroughly — regardless of how revolting they are — in case they contain specific threats we need to act on.
All of this has left Phair uneasy about her path forward as a journalist, and especially whether she wants to write about politics.
“I just remember thinking these people don’t know me. They’re just so angry,” Phair said. “To be on the receiving end of that … it’s almost fascinating if it wasn’t so scary. I felt exposed, scared and vulnerable.”
I was relieved when Phair told me she remains committed to journalism — for now, at least. “I’m starting to feel more comfortable with my name back out there again,” she said.
But it’s disturbing enough that harassment and abuse of this nature might dissuade a journalist from writing about a certain subject. Researchers have focused on this phenomenon for several years now in the hope that digital security efforts, training and support by newsrooms might help keep people — especially people of color, women and nonbinary journalists, who are all most vulnerable — from fleeing certain beats or the profession more broadly.
New York Times publisher A.G. Sulzberger, in a recent op-ed published by The Seattle Times, laid out the ways in which authoritarian leaders consolidate power by undercutting news organizations in their countries. He listed their tactics, beginning with “sowing public distrust in independent journalism and normalizing the harassment of the people who produce it.”
Sulzberger’s piece was a reminder of the fragility of our free press and our democracy, and the possibility that a weakened media landscape could help land this country on a path toward authoritarian rule.
That is what we all should fear.
