March, 2006
After Robert “Willie” Pickton was arrested, it took
nearly four years for prosecutors to put him on trial for 27
counts of murder. The volumes of evidence, the sheer number
of charges, and the almost unprecedented complexity surrounding
the case forced police and lawyers on both sides to take their
time in assembling evidence.
Now
that the trial has begun, journalists have started wading
into the details of the grisly murders. Reporters will have
several months of voir dire hearings to listen to –
but not publish – the evidence while it is judged for
admissibility. Under the law, reporters are not allowed to
report such information until the evidence is heard in open
court during the trial.
They will need the time.
As Dan
Burnett explains, reporting on trials of this magnitude
takes a deft touch. “The voir dire ban is just one of
the legal landmines for reporters,” he writes. Journalists
will also face a series of other legal restrictions, not to
mention an array of ethical dilemmas.
When the hearings covered by a publication
ban are over and the first details of the trial emerge publicly,
reporters will need to be extra careful about how they frame
the story. First impressions tend to stick, and although it’s
difficult to sympathize with an accused mass-murderer, journalists
must not let emotions cloud their prose. Pickton is, after all,
innocent until proven guilty.
The language
used in the first news reports of a major story can have a
lasting effect. In the Ryerson
Review of Journalism , Amanda Shuchat explains how a simple
choice of words changed the world’s perception of Toronto
after the Boxing Day shootings on Yonge Street.
“In the aftermath of the shootings,
one particular phrase, the year of the gun, is used by Toronto
media to assess a quickly fading 2005,” she writes.
“Big, scary headlines and excessive memorial reportage
leave the impression that the city is no longer safe.”
When it comes to crime reporting though,
there is perhaps no better guide on what not to do than the
now infamous case of the “Central Park Jogger.”
As Columbia Journalism professor Lynnell
Hancock points out, the press jumped to conclusions after
police charged a group of black and Latino teenagers from
Harlem with the brutal rape of a young, white woman in Central
Park.
Hancock says editors quickly framed the
story along the lines of good versus evil, rich versus poor,
white versus black. Reporters felt obliged to follow that
narrative, and the public was left with a lasting –
and false – impression of what happened.
“David Krajicek, who covered the rape
as police bureau chief for the New York Daily News, recalls
that reporters were under tremendous pressure to stay true
to the top-down narrative,” Hancock writes. “And
in the competitive frenzy surrounding the story, that narrative
took on a life of its own, ultimately slashing the city into
two angry parts — white and black, Wall Street and Harlem,
law-abiding adults and barbaric youth. There was little room
for nuance. The image of savage kids rampaging through the
city's streets was branded into the national consciousness.”
The accused youths recanted their confessions
shortly after being arrested, saying they had been coerced
by police. But no one listened. The first impression of the
case stuck. It wasn’t until 13 years later, after the
young men had served their sentences, that DNA evidence and
a confession from a serial rapist proved they had been wrongly
convicted.
The revelation caused a great degree of
soul-searching in the journalism community about the role
of the press. And though the Pickton trial is barely a month
old, similar soul-searching has already begun.
As Heather
Travis writes, some journalists say the media has already
failed, not by getting the facts wrong, but by ignoring the
disappearances of Pickton’s alleged victims for years.
“That’s the charge being leveled
by CBC News: Sunday associate producer Audrey Huntley who
has been documenting the stories of missing Canadian Native
women,” Travis writes. “She believes that news
stations are continuing to make the same mistakes that Vancouver
Police and RCMP did, deferring their investigation despite
the evidence set before them.”
As for the Pickton trial itself, Kendyl
Salcito says reporters will also have to struggle with
a circus-like atmosphere surrounding the courtroom. The trial
has brought lots of attention from all sorts of people, including
victims’ families. And while their emotional interviews
might make for good television, reporters have to be selective
about what they broadcast.
CTV producer Tracey Robertson told Salcito
that some members of the murder victims’ families were
more than happy to express their opinions on Pickton after
he entered the courtroom.
“A lot of them were overwhelmed at
seeing him,” she said. “They want the media to
carry their strongest, potentially libellous views. They had
a very emotional response and wanted to express it to us,
but we can’t air it.”
The stakes are high when journalists take
on major crime stories like the Pickton trial. The high-profile
nature of the case will draw large audiences, meaning readers,
viewers, media critics, and lawyers will go through news reports
with a fine-tooth comb. Reporters must walk a fine line, balancing
their duty to document the details of the case with their
legal obligations to avoid libel and contempt of court.
In addition to these legal regulations,
journalists will also need to consider tricky ethical questions.
It will be important to select words carefully in the first
major stories to come out of the trial, as those stories will
heavily influence public perception throughout the trial and
after the verdict. There will also be opportunities to tell
compelling stories about the victims and their families. These
stories ought to be told, but reporters will have to rein
in their emotions to make sure they don’t convict Pickton
in the press.