CHAPTER L

THE PRESS AND PUBLIC WELFARE

As a result of the operation of all these forces, we have a class-owned

press, representing class-interests, protecting class-interests with

entire unscrupulousness, and having no conception of the meaning of

public welfare. These words may seem extreme, but I mean them to be

taken literally. When our press says “the public,” it means the

property-owning class, and if in a newspaper-office you should assume it

meant anything else, you would make yourself ridiculous. “We are not in

business for our health,” is the formula whereby this matter is summed

up in the “business-office” of our newspapers. It is only in the

editorial columns that any other idea is suggested.

What kind of “public welfare” will you consider? Here, for example, is

William Salisbury, working for the “Chicago Chronicle,” owned by a great

banker. Was this banker working for the public welfare? He was working

for his own welfare so diligently that later on he was sent to jail. Is

Mr. Salisbury working for the public welfare? No, Mr. Salisbury is

working for an actress, he tells us, and the actress is working for a

diamond ring. Mr. Salisbury comes upon a “tip” that will earn him the

price of the ring. A certain merchant has conceived the idea of a

co-operative department store, an enterprise which might be of great

service to the public; but if the big department-stores get wind of it,

they will kill it. Mr. Salisbury takes the problem to his city editor,

who consults owner Walsh over the telephone, and then tells Mr.

Salisbury to write the story in full.

“The people who are getting this thing up are not advertisers,” he

added. “The big department-stores are. Besides, Walsh doesn’t believe

in co-operation or municipal ownership, or anything like that, so go

ahead.”

I wrote two columns. All the other papers copied the story.

The co-operative department-store was not started. The owners of the

big emporiums in the down-town district joined forces against it. They

got an option on the only available building by greatly overbidding

the small merchants. The latter, whose combined capital was less than

the wealth of any one of their powerful rivals, gave up the fight in

despair.

Thus was nipped in the bud by the frost of publicity a project which

might have revolutionized trade—and all because an actress wanted a

bracelet, and a reporter wanted a scoop, and a newspaper wanted to

protect its advertisers.

But sometimes the “Chronicle” was merciful, as Mr. Salisbury lets us

see. All the newspapers in Chicago were pouring ridicule upon John

Alexander Dowie, a fake religious prophet.

When I returned to the office I offered to write of Dowie’s weeping

about the birds. That was the only thing that struck me as unusual.

Anything that would put Dowie in a ridiculous or unfavorable light was

generally wanted by all the papers. But I was told to write nothing.

“We’ve just got orders to let up on Dowie,” said the city editor. “Mr.

Walsh wants to increase the paper’s circulation among the Dowieites.

Our political views have cost us subscribers lately, and we want to

make up for it. If there is any good hot news about Dowie, of course

we’ll print it, but not unfavorably.”

Maybe you distrust Mr. Salisbury. A man who could fake so much

Journalism might fake one book! Very well; but here is one of the most

eminent sociologists in the country, a man whose honor is not to be

questioned—Prof. E. A. Ross of the University of Wisconsin. Writing in

the “Atlantic Monthly” for March, 1910, Prof. Ross gives several pages

of incidents of this sort. I quote:

On the desk of every editor and sub-editor of a newspaper run by a

capitalist promoter now under prison sentence lay a list of sixteen

corporations in which the owner was interested. This was to remind

them not to print anything damaging to these concerns. In the office

these corporations were jocularly referred to as “sacred cows.”

Nearly every form of privilege is found in the herd of “sacred cows”

venerated by the daily press.

The railroad company is a “sacred cow.” At a hearing before a state

railroad commission, the attorney of a shippers’ association got an

eminent magnate into the witness chair, with the intention of wringing

from him the truth regarding the political expenditures of his

railroad. At this point the commission, an abject creature of the

railroad, arbitrarily excluded the daring attorney from the case. The

memorable excoriation which that attorney gave the commission to its

face was made to appear in the papers as the _cause_ instead of the

_consequence_ of this exclusion. Subsequently, when the attorney filed

charges with the governor against the commission, one editor wrote an

editorial stating the facts and criticizing the commissioners. The

editorial was suppressed after it was in type.

The public-service company is a “sacred cow.” In a city of the

Southwest, last summer, while houses were burning from lack of water

for the fire hose, a lumber company offered to supply the firemen with

water. The water company replied that they had “sufficient.” Neither

this nor other damaging information concerning the company’s conduct

got into the columns of the local press. A yellow journal, conspicuous

in the fight for cheaper gas by its ferocious onslaughts on the “gas

trust,” suddenly ceased its attack. Soon it began to carry a full-page

“Cook with gas” advertisement. The cow had found the entrance to the

sacred fold.

Traction is a “sacred cow.” The truth about Cleveland’s fight for the

three-cent fare has been widely suppressed. For instance, while Mayor

Johnson was superintending the removal of the tracks of a defunct

street railway, he was served with a court order enjoining him from

tearing up the rails. As the injunction was not endorsed, as by law it

should be, he thought it was an ordinary communication, and put it in

his pocket to examine later. The next day he was summoned to show

reason why he should not be found in contempt of court. When the facts

came out, he was, of course, discharged. An examination of seven

leading dailies of the country shows that a dispatch was sent out from

Cleveland stating that Mayor Johnson, after acknowledging service,

pocketed the injunction, and ordered his men to proceed with their

work. In the newspaper-offices this dispatch was then embroidered. One

paper said the mayor told his men to go ahead and ignore the

injunction. Another had the mayor intimating in advance that he would

not obey an order if one were issued. A third invented a conversation

in which the mayor and his superintendent made merry over the

injunction. Not one of the seven journals reported the mayor’s

complete exoneration later.

And the same thing has been done in every city where radicals of any

sort have gained control. Says A. M. Simons, speaking at a conference of

the University of Wisconsin:

The story of the administration of Milwaukee while it was in Socialist

control was a caricature of the truth, so much so that it was found

necessary to establish a weekly bulletin or press service, scarcely an

issue of which did not contain a correction of some news agency story.

Compare the story sent out about Mayor Shank and the public market in

Indianapolis with the almost complete suppression of the fight against

the ice trust by the Socialist interests in Schenectady.

One of the most incredible instances of news suppression in the

interests of Big Business occurred early in 1914, during the hearings of

the Interstate Commerce Commission. For three years the newspapers had

carried on an elaborate campaign in favor of a five per cent increase in

freight rates. Fifty million dollars a year was at stake, and the roads

were spending millions in advertising their cause in the newspapers. The

presidents of our biggest railroads appeared before the Interstate

Commerce Commission to tell of the ruin which was threatened unless the

increase were granted. The campaign was all worked out in advance, the

“dope” for the newspapers provided; but there came an unexpected hitch

in the proceedings, caused by the appearance of a young man by the name

of Thorne, a member of the State Railway Commission of Iowa. Mr. Thorne

had the finances of all these railroads at his finger-tips, and he

proceeded to cross-question the railroad presidents and tear their

testimony to pieces. He showed that in twelve years the capitalization

of the roads had been increased ninety-two per cent, and their dividends

increased three hundred and fifty-nine per cent. In the year 1912 their

dividends had been the greatest in history. In 1910 the Pennsylvania,

the Baltimore & Ohio, and the New York Central had assured the

Interstate Commerce Commission that they could not borrow money, yet in

two years they had borrowed five hundred million dollars!

Mr. Thorne showed how in their reports just submitted they had padded

their costs. Every locomotive had cost one hundred and twelve per cent

more to maintain in 1913 than it had cost in 1912. Freight cars had

increased thirty-three per cent in cost, despite the fact that iron and

steel were cheaper. The Interstate Commerce Commission allowed Mr.

Thorne to question all the railroad presidents, and not one of them

could answer him. And what do you think the newspapers did with this

most sensational incident? I take the facts from Charles Edward Russell,

as follows: The “New York World” gave nearly a column to the testimony

of the railroad presidents, and said not a word about Mr. Thorne! The

“New York Times” gave a full column, and not a word about Thorne! The

“Philadelphia Public Ledger” did the same, and the “Baltimore Sun”; the

“Cincinnati Inquirer” gave half a column without mentioning Thorne, and

the “Chicago Herald” the same. (This clipping marked, “By the Associated

Press”!)

The hearings were continued. President Smith of the New York Central, a

Vanderbilt property, took the stand. Mr. Thorne submitted figures

showing that his road had made eleven per cent net profit, that it had

put by an eleven-million-dollar surplus, that if its dividends had been

properly figured they would have been fifty-four per cent. President

Smith was absolutely helpless, dumb. And how do you think the New York

newspapers treated that incident? The “New York World” gave it this

headline: “GOING TO THE DEVIL FAST, SAYS HEAD OF NEW YORK CENTRAL.” And

not a word about Thorne! Likewise the “New York Times” gave President

Smith’s testimony in full, and nothing about Thorne! The “Philadelphia

Public Ledger,” the “Baltimore Sun,” the “Chicago Herald” the same. (“By

the Associated Press”!)

And next day came the president of the Pennsylvania Railroad. He, too,

was helpless in the hands of Mr. Thorne; he admitted that he had made a

stock allotment of forty-five million dollars; but again the same papers

did not mention the matter. And next day came the vice-president of the

“Baltimore & Ohio,” and the same thing happened. All over the country

the newspapers were full of articles portraying a railroad panic, our

greatest roads “going to the devil,” according to the sworn testimony of

their officials—and never one word about State Railroad Commissioner

Thorne of Iowa!

All these are positive acts; and now for a moment consider the

negative—the good things that newspapers might do and don’t! I could

write a volume dealing with plans and social possibilities known to me,

whereby the life of mankind might be made over; but you might as well

start to fly to the moon as ask a capitalist newspaper to take these

things up. For example, the idea of a co-operative home, as tried at

Helicon Hall; or the idea set forth by Edgar Chambless in his book,

“Roadtown.” Did you ever hear of “Roadtown”? The chances are ninety-nine

out of a hundred that you never did. If you are near a library, you may

look it up in the “Independent,” May 5, 1910. I will say in brief that

it is a plan which won the approval of the best engineers, to build a

city in a way that would save seventy per cent of the necessary labor of

mankind forever after, and increase by several hundred per cent the

total of human happiness. You did not find this plan “boosted” by

capitalist newspapers—because its inventor sternly refused all

propositions to exploit it for profit, and insisted upon preserving the

idea for the free use and benefit of humanity.

The Brass Check: A Study of American Journalism · 第 17 / 29 章