CHAPTER LXVI

JABBERGRAB IN JOURNALISM

In all these new academic department-stores one of the leading

departments is that of journalism. Here they teach you how to write for

and edit newspapers; and needless to say, what the students want is to

be prepared to fill positions on the capitalist press, and their

judgment of a school of journalism is conditioned upon the salaries

secured by its graduates. The first school of this kind was started at

Columbia, with an endowment left by Joseph Pulitzer, the father of

“yellow” journalism. Being curious to know what kind of ethics Mr.

Pulitzer’s school is teaching, I pick up a publication of the Alumni

Association, “Clean Copy.” The title page contains a list of officers,

and I note the chairman’s name, and his address—prepare yourself for a

laugh!—care Ivy Lee, 61 Broadway, New York City! So we learn that the

Columbia School of Journalism is preparing students to work in the

offices of “Poison Ivy!” Its standards are such that it is willing for

an employe of “Poison Ivy” to be chairman of its Alumni, and to

advertise that fact in its paper!

When I first came in touch with Mr. Lee’s lie-factory, he was press

agent for John D. Rockefeller, Jr., at a thousand dollars a month; then

he became prize poisoner for the Pennsylvania Railroad, and now he has

in New York and Washington a great publicity bureau, serving all the

railroads of the United States in their war upon the American people.

What “Poison Ivy” gets for this work I have no idea, but it must be a

generous sum; a friend of mine was looking for an apartment in New York,

and entered one of those new palatial houses just off Fifth Avenue, and

was informed by those in charge that the cheapest apartment in the place

rented for twenty-five thousand dollars a year—and one of the tenants is

Ivy L. Lee! It is interesting to note that it took a combination of our

three most aristocratic universities, Princeton, Harvard and Columbia,

to turn out this super-professor of prevarication!

Also the University of Wisconsin got in early on the journalism

business. One of its professors got out a textbook, which was used until

quite recently at Wisconsin, and is still used at many other places;

there are thousands of practicing journalists in America today who got

their ethical ideals from Professor Hyde’s text-book, which advises

students about dramatic criticism: “Very few critics are so fortunate as

to be able to say exactly what they think about a play; they must say

what the editor wants them to say.”... The dramatic critic “must praise

more cleverly, and give his copy the appearance of honest criticism.”

Needless to say, they have a school of journalism at the University of

Jabbergrab. The director of this department is James Melvin Lee, who got

his training for the teaching of journalistic ideals on the staff of

“Leslie’s,” the barber-shop weekly, and later for four years as editor

of “Judge,” the bar-room comic. Concerning Professor Lee’s journalistic

standards I have intimate knowledge, derived from a protracted

controversy over “The Brass Check”; so here I can draw you a complete

picture of Jabbergrab in action.

A controversy with Professor Lee is a good deal like fighting one of

those enchanters you read about in the fairy tales—your sword goes

straight through him, and leaves him the same as he was before. He made

his first attack on “The Brass Check” at the Brownsville Labor Forum,

and his cry was that he wanted definite facts—there were none in my

book! Again and again I supplied him with facts, and discovered the

curious phenomenon—he paid not the slightest attention to any which I

supplied; he would come again, demanding the same ones! The New York

“Globe” saw in our controversy a good journalistic stunt, and they

invited Professor Lee and myself to row it out, and gave each of us a

total of six columns. And here in the “Globe,” Professor Lee repeated

one after another all the various demands and challenges which he had

issued at the Brownsville Labor Forum—overlooking almost all the data I

had furnished him in the meantime!

For my first article in the “Globe,” I took the trouble to go over “The

Brass Check” and count the number of cases which give complete

documentation—names, places, and dates—and these came to a total of two

hundred and thirteen. In addition, there are perhaps a dozen or two

anecdotes which I narrate upon the authority of other people, being in

every case careful to name my authority. Finally, there are half a dozen

trivial incidents—such as the fact that an old college professor of mine

fell down an elevator shaft in a department-store—which I did not

document, for the reason that these incidents occurred to me in the

final revision of the book, and I could not have the files of the New

York newspapers consulted in time. Professor Lee’s method of controversy

was to pick out these few trifling incidents, and recite them to the

Brownsville audience, and to the readers of the New York “Globe,” with

elaborate challenges to me to produce this information. Thus, to a

single anecdote of Gaylord Wilshire being misrepresented by the

Associated Press, Professor Lee devoted three paragraphs in the “Globe,”

demanding at great length the names of the newspapers and the dates; I

supplied him with the names and dates of two newspapers—but to no result

that I could discover.

Both in his Brownsville address and in the “Globe” controversy he took

up my story of the Associated Press crimes in Colorado; but he was

careful to confine himself to one detail, my telegram to President

Wilson—because he was able to argue that this telegram was libelous and

that it was “self-advertising.” He made no mention of any other aspect

of the whole series of suppressions which I proved against the

Associated Press during that Colorado coal strike. Still more

significant is the fact that nowhere in these controversies could I get

him to mention the conduct of the Associated Press in the West Virginia

coal strike. The reason was obvious enough; the Associated Press had

here been so indiscreet as to come into court and submit its own

dispatches in evidence, and its poisoning of the news was proved by its

sworn official admissions. This was not the sort of “facts” that

Professor Lee was looking for, and so he never let anyone hear about

them!

Equally significant was his handling of the false report sent out by the

Associated Press, to the effect that my wife had been arrested during

our demonstration in front of the Standard Oil Building, New York,

during the Colorado coal strike. I stated in “The Brass Check” that my

wife notified the Associated Press of the falsity of this report, and

demanded a retraction. In his first letter to me Professor Lee made the

flat statement: “_The Associated Press does not have proof; it did not

receive it._” In my reply, I pointed out to Professor Lee the naïveté of

his own statement; how without one particle of evidence, he accepted the

word of the Associated Press, and turned it into a flat statement of his

own. My wife filed libel suits against thirty Associated Press

newspapers which had published the false report, and the Associated

Press was liable for every dollar that these newspapers might have to

pay. Was it humanly believable that not one of these newspapers would

notify the Associated Press of the filing of these suits? On the

contrary, was it not certain that every one of these papers, under the

advice of their attorneys, would notify the Associated Press of the

filing of the suit, and of the paper’s expectation that the Associated

Press would defend it? I sent to my New York office a copy of a

newspaper, containing an account of the filing of the suit, and

Professor Lee inspected this evidence in the presence of my New York

manager; but did this make any difference to him? It made not a

particle! When he took up the controversy in the New York “Globe,” he

brought up the same argument again: “The point at issue is whether such

attention was called to the Associated Press!”

Still funnier was what happened in the case of Professor Lee’s demand

that some one should name a newspaper which had suppressed the name of a

department-store in connection with a discreditable news item. Professor

Lee, reading “The Brass Check,” observed that most of my anecdotes of

this kind dealt with newspapers in Philadelphia, Boston, Milwaukee and

other cities. Therefore, he phrased his challenge at the Brownsville

Labor Forum so that it referred only to _New York_ newspapers; he called

for names, places and dates—and of course nobody at the Brownsville

Labor Forum could supply such data. In the New York “Globe” he repeated

this challenge, very proudly and very confidently. But, alas, right in

the middle of the controversy, his friends on the kept press threw him

down! On June 27 he published in the “Globe” his article headed, “Lee

Calls on Sinclair for Names, Dates, Places”; and nine days later the New

York “Evening Sun,” in its baseball edition, Wednesday, July 6, 1920,

page two, column eight, published a story about a man who had sued a

department-store and collected money from it—and nowhere in the article

was the department-store named!

Also I ought to mention the behavior of this professor of Jabbergrab in

connection with the New York “Times.” This controversy, with all the

documents, is given in a pamphlet, “The Crimes of the ‘Times,’” which

you may have for the asking. I will here mention only one or two

details. The “Times” reported Professor Lee’s Brownsville address to the

extent of two columns, quoting mainly his defense of the “Times.” I

replied in a letter, and the “Times” did to this the most dishonest

thing a newspaper can do—it refused to publish the letter, but discussed

it in an editorial, and falsified its contents! I sent the “Times” a

telegram, calling attention to the falsifications, but they refused any

sort of redress. These falsifications stand in the files of the paper;

they are listed in its index, found in every large library in the

country. Students of “The Brass Check” will come upon those falsehoods;

but they will know nothing about my answer, for my humble little

pamphlet is not catalogued in libraries. I trust therefore that the

reader will pardon me if I take two paragraphs of this book to state the

facts; especially since every step of the controversy was a test, not

merely of the “Times,” but of the Director of Journalism of New York

University.

The incident in dispute is told on page 77 of “The Brass Check,” dealing

with the publication of my novel, “The Metropolis.” The New York “Times”

had prepared a front-page news story about this novel, and the story was

killed at the last minute by Mr. Ochs, publisher of the “Times.”

Professor Lee, in his Brownsville speech, declared that this narrative

of mine was absurd upon its face. In my letter to the “Times,” I put it

up to the “Times” to say whether my narrative was true or false. The

“Times,” refusing to publish the letter, declared editorially that no

such incident had occurred. Said the “Times”: “Mr. Sinclair refers to

this tale in his letter to the ‘Times,’ but with a shifting of ground.

For his own positive statement in ‘The Brass Check’ he now substitutes

the alleged statement of a ‘publicity agent’ of a publishing house,”

etc.

Now the facts were as follows: “The Metropolis” had been published in

serial form in the “American Magazine”; and in “The Brass Check” I had

stated that it was this magazine which had arranged for the story in the

“Times.” Subsequently I recalled that it was Moffat, Yard & Company, the

publishers of the _book_, who had made the arrangements, and this

correction I noted in my letter to the “Times.” Manifestly, this made no

difference, so far as concerned the “Times”; but you see what use they

made of this “shifting of ground”! Their assertion, that I “relied upon

the alleged statement of a publicity agent of a publishing house” was a

flat falsehood; for in my letter to the “Times” I told them that “I saw

the proofs of the proposed story with my own eyes.” A day or two later I

was able to telegraph them statements from the two gentlemen who had

composed the firm of Moffat, Yard & Company, Mr. W. D. Moffat and Mr.

Robert Sterling Yard, both declaring that they plainly remembered the

preparing of the story by the “Times,” and their disappointment when

they found it did not appear as promised. The “Times” received this

testimony, but refused publication to it, and paid no attention to my

telegrams of protest!

And now, where was Professor Lee during this controversy? Professor Lee

had furnished the “Times” with the ammunition to attack me; he had

defended their journalistic practices, and they had published his

defense. Here he saw them committing a piece of the baldest journalistic

rascality—and what did he do about it? I telegraphed him again and

again, asking him to take steps to induce the newspaper to correct its

published falsehoods. Later on, I challenged him again and again to

withdraw his published endorsement of the newspaper’s ethical code. His

reply was to go before the University Settlement, and repeat his attack

upon “The Brass Check” and his defense of the “Times”—and the “Times”

once more featured his address! To the manager of my New York office

Professor Lee made the smiling statement that he was publishing a

magazine for business men, and he did not care how much I attacked him

in public—it would only help him with his business clients!

You have heard me protesting against the practice of covering

commercialists and servants of privilege with the mantle of academic

dignity; and here you see what it means, and why it is done. The New

York “Times” did not dare to answer “The Brass Check” itself; for a year

it had ignored the book—save to post in its editorial rooms a statement

that anyone found with a copy in the office would be summarily

discharged! But then came forward a personage with the high-sounding

title of “Director of the Department of Journalism of New York

University”; and the “Times” made itself into a megaphone, to carry this

hitherto negligible voice to the farthest ends of the earth!

The Goose-step: A Study of American Education · 第 66 / 93 章