Dear government spin doctor:
I am working on a story about how the job you’re doing is helping to kill Canada’s democracy.
I know that your role, as a so-called communications professional, is to put the best spin on what the government is or isn’t doing.
That means you often don’t respond the questions I ask, you help elected officials do the same thing and you won’t let me talk to those who actually have the answers.
While this may work out very well for you, it doesn’t work out so well for my audience who, by the way, are taxpayers, voters and citizens.
So your refusal to provide me with information is actually a refusal to provide the public with information.
And if the public doesn’t know what their government is actually doing, it can continue doing things the public wouldn’t want it to do.
That just doesn’t seem very democratic to me. Does it seem democratic to you?
I understand you’re just doing your job.
I did that job before myself before I became a journalist, working as a communications officer for the British Columbia government.
So I don’t think you’re a bad person.
But you should know a few things about me.
My job isn’t to help you put the best spin on what the government is or isn’t doing.
My job is to tell the truth.
And, because that’s my job, you should know a few other things about how I’m going to report this story.
First, if you don’t respond to my questions, I’m going to let my audience know that.
Second, if you respond to my questions with non-answers, I’m going to let my audience know that too.
Third, I’m not going to put those non-answers in my story for the sake of false balance.
That’s because me asking questions about what the government is doing wrong isn’t an opportunity for you to simply tell the public about what government is doing right.
You have a big advertising budget for that.
Instead, it’s an opportunity to explain to the public why the government is or isn’t doing that thing I asked you about.
And, finally, if you refuse, ignore or interfere with my requests to interview public officials, my audience will also find out about that.
This may sound like hardball at best and blackmail at worst. But it’s actually the last and only defense I have against you and your colleagues.
Public relations professionals outnumber journalists more than four to one in this country – and for good reason.
It pays to promote and protect the powerful but it doesn’t pay to hold them to account.
My hope is that more journalists will also start routinely telling their audiences about the strategies and tactics you use to frustrate the public’s right to know.
If that happens then the public might start caring about the damage that’s being done to our democracy.
And, maybe, just maybe you might start rethinking what you are doing.
After all, there was a time when journalists could actually talk to public officials without having someone like you always watching over their shoulder and telling them exactly what to say.
I know it’s a long shot.
But it’s the only shot I can take against the tyranny of your talking points.
Sean Holman is an assistant professor of journalism at Mount Royal University. This article originally appeared on his blog, at www.seanholman.com.