The scourge of columnists

Yeh Woh - The News on Sunday 21st July
By Masud Alam

He goes by the name Shahid Khursheed Kunwar, he has access to internet and a set of 260 email addresses of media houses and their editors and journalists he regularly writes to, and he loves tormenting popular newspaper columnists with his corrigenda and terse comments on their writings, on a daily basis.

Little else is known about him and he makes an effort to add mystery to his virtual persona by not answering emails. It’s as if he has a one-way email account — it can only send, not receive any mail. But he is a terror for all the newspaper lions who roar on anyone from presidents and opposition leaders to chiefs of army and judiciary. And he terrorises by showing them their mistakes, factual mistakes that cannot be argued for, and that only make ‘senior journalists and analysts’ squirm at their own complaisance, or at the laziness of their interns who do their research, for giving Kunwar ammunition to attack back with.

Some of the mistakes he points out can be simple typos, or misspelled words. Majority of the errors he picks up on have to do with general knowledge and poetry. (That makes me think he could be a student preparing for CSS exam or a retired civil servant). ‘You mentioned in the opening para and then repeated in line seven: such and such in the state of Orlando. There is no such state in the USA. I pay my homage to your knowledge’. Another unfortunate writer who said something about Ka’aba being ‘lakhs of miles away’ was made to regret his careless choice of words. Catch the delight in Kunwar’s response: “Doctor sahib, perhaps you are a bit short on common sense because no point on earth is more than 12, 000 miles from Qibla. Don’t try to be so poignant (sic) and emotional at this age.”

Sometimes he gets really nasty in his comments, like, “I want to laugh at your compact knowledge. In 1840 total American states were 26 and not 28”. Or, “Maulana how could a deceased of 12th century be sophisticated and stylish in the 13th century? Alas, Sultan Salahuddin Ayubi died in 1193 AD. It is your 1357th blunder”. Or to the horror of this writer who uses the titles of doctor and allama with his byline, and who had dared to call for a change in Muslims’ ‘ausaf’ using the word for ‘qualities’ rather than good qualities: “You did not uphold carefulness and alertness while translating this aayat of Sura Ra’ad. Ausaf means plus points and saintliness in one’s nature and are  not required to be changed. Hence your doctori and allamai are doubtful. Kindly be careful in future”.

He reserves his absolute wrath for those who misquote poetry; the bigger the wronged poet the more poison Kunwar injects into his response. So when a top columnist used one extra word in a couplet by Ghalib, he was livid: “Professor sahib it is incorrect, reprehensible and shameful mistake on your part. Mirza Nausha will never forgive you. ‘Khoob’ is unnecessarily added. I don’t understand the reason or logic behind your stupid invention”.

I have a feeling Kunwar keeps journalists in general and columnists in particular, in very low esteem. He probably figured early on that his avid reading, his ability to find errors in text, and his research to correct them may not impress his audience, indeed they may not even get the point he is making. So he puts the point in the subject line of his emails. Like, “Illiterate writers must be condemned”, “An Urdu writer must write at least correct Urdu” and the gleeful counter challenge, “Now where do you stand?”

You’d think in a journalistic environment where no one from writer to sub-editor to editor has the time or resources or an inclination to check and double check their facts, Kunwar’s self-assumed and diligently performed duty will have earned him at least writers’ gratitude — if they wish to have a personal credibility regardless of the publication’s reputation — despite his occasional meanness. I assure you this is not the case. I have never seen a ‘thank you’ note in response to Kunwar’s group mails.

What I have seen is one email in recent months, from one of the group recipients whom I don’t know, addressed to Kunwar and solely discussing various possibilities, some wild other unmentionable, of Kunwar’s paternity.

Good news for the writers of this and other English-language newspapers is, Kunwar’s attention is focused exclusively on Urdu publications. We are free to make mistakes … until the English version of Kunwar shows up among the readers and starts embarrassing us.

masudalam@yahoo.com

News Media and MQM

In responding to the story of Altaf Hussain’s stepping down from party leadership that turned into another episode of his ‘return on popular demand’ within hours, the readers have shown better news sense than newsmen.

Here is the Dawn.com story from which I have picked just two of the many sensible comments:
Azmul Hussain: "Surprise resignation? Are you sure Dawn? I don't think anyone was truly surprised by an act that has been practiced many times before and with the same result". (299 likes)

Burki: "So, Altaf Hussain (says) his residence was searched by police in UK. How come Dawn never reported it?" (344 likes)

The second question points a firm middle finger at what could either be self-censorship practiced, not just by Dawn but the entire Pakistani news media when it comes to reporting on MQM, or it could be a collective newsgathering failure to report an important development in the Dr. Imran Farooq murder case.

In a tense battle for breaking news no one in the electronic media considered this news worth reporting, let alone following up, allowing Altaf Hussain to break it and give details in his speech a good ten days later. Could it be the ignorance of reporters sitting in London? Jang Group's editor investigations, Ansar Abbasi, disagrees. 'Reporters knew what was going on but we are scared to report on MQM,' he said in Capital Talk on June 30.

Investigations by London Metropolitan Police and Scotland Yard picked up in the past weeks after nearly a year of quiet. Two houses in London were reportedly raided by police on June 18. More searches were conducted the next day and a ‘British citizen of Pakistani origin wasquestioned’. And finally, on June 20 one news story hinted in passing that one of the houses searched by police ‘was registered in the name of Altaf Hussain’.

If its true that reporters and editors tremble in fear of a regional political party, and willingly give up their duty to report honestly and fairly, how can it be expected to report on national level political parties, criminal gangs, and the much bigger and ferocious terror outfit, Tehrik e Taliban Pakistan and its various affiliates all over the country?

If police involves the head of a political party in a murder investigation, and it is not a story worth telling, what is?

It's your fault

Pakistani media is trashy because people – that would be consumers of media, or simply put, you – demand and happily receive trash. That was the only explanation offered at an event that measured atmospheric pressure of the media environment and found it low enough to predict that stormy weather is only getting worse.
The Asian Media Barometer first conducted home-grown analysis of the media landscape in Pakistan and India in 2009, in which India scored 2.4 and Pakistan a slightly better 2.5 out of a maximum score of 5. The 2012 Barometer found Pakistan sliding down to 2.4. Beating India by one decimal point was the source of pride then, and being where India was three years ago, is the saving grace now. But is it?
Three of the four sectors analysed in the report, show a marked decline in both practice and theory of basic media principles and ethics. This does not, however, reflect in the overall score because the ‘freedom of expression’ sector received a more than generous acknowledgment by panelists who number 11 (or 12, depending on what page of the report you are on) and are drawn from within national media and civil society.
A majority of them are so enamoured of the Zardari brand of democracy that they find it impossible to consider that unreasonable and restrictive provisions in law and Constitution, remain so during the ‘return of democracy’ period. In response to the statement: ‘There are no laws or parts of laws restricting freedom of expression such as excessive official secrets or libel acts, or laws that unreasonably interfere with the responsibilities of media,’ only four panelists voted 1 (country does not meet indicator) while two voted 5 (country meets all aspects of the indicator) and the rest fell in between. This, in the face of a list of 11 pieces of legislation – the oldest from 1885 and the latest from 2009 – the panelists were provided to debate over. I’d give anything to watch a recording of that debate just to see how a dozen experts discuss tainted laws, agree that they are unfair and against the spirit of free expression, and yet reach an above average score of 2.6 in aggregate.
The statements put to vote are, in some cases, quite vague or outlandish, like: ‘Websites and blogs are not required to register with or obtain permission from state authorities’ (it received a unanimous maximum score of 5), and: ‘The advertisement market is large enough to support a diversity of media outlets’. The only purpose they seem to serve is giving some easy points to a country in need of easy points.
And the tradition of anonymous voting let loose the ghost panelists who voted in a manner none of them would own up publicly. For instance:
‘Government makes every effort to honour regional and international instruments on freedom of expression and freedom of the media,’ received only one vote for ‘country does not meet indicator’ while all the rest answered between ‘only a few’ and ‘most’ aspects met. This, in a country where a democratically elected military president bans all electronic media by simply passing an order; a country where a democratically elected civilian government uses public service broadcasting for propaganda, and threatens public servants with disciplinary action if they are found to provide information to media; and a country which (together with India and Brazil) has recently opposed the UN Plan of Action on the Safety of Journalists and the Issue of Impunity, despite being one of the most dangerous countries for journalists.
‘The state does not seek to block or filter internet content unless laws provide for restrictions that serve a legitimate interest and are necessary in a democratic society’ – 10 panelists found the statement true to some or the other extent but one found it perfectly applicable to Pakistan. The current and previous governments have routinely filtered internet access and explicitly blocked social network web sites such as Facebook and Youtube.
‘Journalists and editors do not practice self-censorship’ – The journalists of Fata and Balochistan fear militants, in Karachi they fear MQM, and in Azad Kashmir and elsewhere, it is the sweeping powers of military and the street power of religious groups. For one reason or another, every Pakistani journalist and editor practices some degree of self-censorship, and that’s only in terms of fear of violence. Pressure from advertisers and political allies is another story. And yet, six of 11 panelists agreed with the statement somewhat. ‘Community broadcasting enjoys special promotion given its potential to broaden access by communities to the airwaves’ – six voted 1 while the rest five were split between 2 and 3, whereas the factual position is, community broadcasting does not exist in Pakistan.
‘Government does not use its power over the placement of advertisements as a means to interfere with editorial content’ – again 10 panelists found that the country does not meet the indicator, while two differed. And my favourite: ‘Owners of established mainstream private media do not interfere with editorial independence,’ One special (as in handicapped) panelist voted a lone 5 while the remaining 10 voted 1. This is not a difference of opinion; this is a difference of 180 degrees. The special panelist obviously knows nothing about media owners, or he is one.
Fahad Hussain made the brave attempt to rescue the media by means of the ‘mirror of society’ analogy – if every other section of the society is rotten how do you expect media to be any different? People get the media they deserve. And the moderator, Ghazi Salahuddin, concurred: ‘Pakistani media has also been subject to declining standards because of the educational and cultural shortcomings of society. Low literacy and high cost of newspapers have restricted circulation of print media. As for the broadcast media, the tendency to appeal to the lowest common denominator has increased exponentially,’ he writes in the summary of the report commissioned and published by Friedrich Ebert Stiftung (FES), a German non-profit organisation.
So there: It’s all your fault. And mine. The media in this country is the way it is because we are like that. But that’s not the only knowledge produced by putting German tax payer’s money to work in Pakistan. More importantly, we have learnt that there aren’t 11 people in a population of nearly 200 million who can agree on what is a fact and what isn’t.

Jay-walking journalism

Published as 'The perfect mediocrity of Pakistani journalism' by Dawn.com

Young men and women who aspire to be journalists in today’s Pakistan, do so for two reasons. One, they studied mass communication because they couldn’t make the merit for more structured disciplines at university, and have figured, honestly, they are not good enough at anything in particular. And two, they have an overwhelming urge to save and serve the world.

The former is a straight forward and understandable reason. You pick a newspaper or watch a television news bulletin, and you see mediocrity reigning supreme. Senior reporters can’t fit their five Ws and an H in a feature-length news report; those who do, more often than not get their facts wrong and their figures fudged; hardly anyone knows the language they report in or edit; and when they become seasoned enough, they either start wheeling dealing as media managers or take to writing and talking complete nonsense, with a lot more panache, authority, and freedom than they could muster as reporters.

Surely I can do better than these jokers, the young job seeker enthuses. Today’s ‘well known journalists’ took the same route, didn’t they? One day they were just a cute face or a sexy figure, or the son/daughter of a showbiz person, or a misfit civil servant, or rude and belligerent angry-old-man, or a smooth and slippery charlatan … and the next day they are presenting news, hosting a current affairs programme or analysing a complex event or situation. That makes me qualified too – I can talk the talk and walk the walk. In fact if I don’t stand a chance in journalism, I don’t stand a chance anywhere.

This line of thinking smacks of opportunism but is in fact as realistic as it gets. And the proof of its being real is in the fact that young people who don’t know any better do keep joining the circus, becoming the jokers, and in turn, attracting more wannabes to follow them. It’s the natural circle of life in Pakistani journalism. Those who are lucky and crafty enough, get a fat salary and fringe benefits that are restricted only by their own imagination, while the rest slog off on pittance, or no salary at all, waiting for their chance to strike gold.

The latter reason is more devious and therefore should be alarming for media consumers and media managers alike. Those who enter journalism to ‘reform’ the society in the image of this philosophy or that, are like the young lad who joins the army so that he can become a general, take over the government, and fix all the ills of his beloved homeland. They have the sincerity of purpose of a 16 years old, and an intelligence level to match. These juvenile do-gooders come in handy as fodder for various ideologies grazing the landscape of this nation.

There are right-wing ideologues who see God and Satan in every conflict, left-wing whiners who are always on the side of the oppressed but are never quite sure who the oppressed are, nationalists who insist on reinventing the wheel as a Pakistani invention for it to roll in Pakistan, and liberals who reject everything without putting forward anything new. These journalists too attract their own kind and form the other circle of journalistic life.

Between the intellectually challenged and ideologically motivated journalists – who together define the Pakistani brand of journalism – there exist a few meticulous reporters who write for people, write well, make fewer factual mistakes and are very cautious in their editorial judgment; brilliant copy editors who turn a rag tag compilation of information into a juicy story; creative photo journalists who tell a complicated story simply through the selection of their angle, and sharp editors who guide their teams into doing stories others can’t see. They are a part of every news media organisation but they are few and they remain faceless. Their names will not come up even once when you ask a thousand, or ten thousand newspaper readers and news TV viewers, who in their opinion are professionally competent journalists. And therefore no one aspires to be them.

Pakistani journalism, as unleashed by a military ruler, repackaged by semi literate media owners, and meekly accepted by senior editors, is no more about informing, educating and entertaining the audience. It’s all about acquiring and expanding a power base and selling a particular point of view, which incidentally, are the two defining traits of politicians as well. And it’s no coincidence. Media owners and senior editors have always been a part of partisan politics and senior journalists who speak and write non-stop on political developments have little or no understanding of the issues that really matter for all Pakistanis, clean drinking water for instance. Every senior journalist is by default a political analyst and the more ambitious of them do turn into full time politicians. Hussain Haqqani, Maleeha Lodhi, Mushahid Hussain, Ayaz Amir, Nafeesa Shah, Shafqat Mahmood … stand out in the present crop of journalists-turned-politicians.

So mixed up is journalism with politics, especially in the mind of old school vernacular journalists, that a senior, presidential award winning columnist recently counted his professional achievements in these words: ‘I was writing columns for (dailies) Shahab and Musawat. Bhutto sahib deputed me to the election campaign of PPP candidates in and around Lyalpur. I used to attend all the public meetings, and people from those days may remember that nature used me as a speaker (at election rallies) too’. Any student of journalism today will be stunned by the fact that the admission is made with pride, not shame. That’s how twisted things are.

Are they getting better? No chance, not at least in near future. Because there is no economic incentive for media owners to purge journalism of unprofessional and unethical practices. And not even the senior most editors have the capacity to train and mentor juniors, if they were asked to. The top layer of our contemporary journalists spent their working life, alternately accommodating and fighting the draconian provisions of censorship laws. And when this generation did get the freedom – ironically at the hands of a serving army general – they did not know what to do with freedom. They’d only fought for principles and ethics; they never got to practice them.

That confusion and inaction on part of senior editors at the turn of the millennium, spelled death for the powerful office of the editor – practically in electronic media and theoretically in print. It is this powerless, directionless editor who became the role model of my generation which is now passing on professional mediocrity to the next generation.

You still want to break into journalism? By all means. But do get your preferences right. If your motivation is one or both mentioned above, you know the drill. If you want to do for-people and ethical journalism, learn the ropes in a professional environment before sending your resume to a mainstream Pakistani media house, because you’ll get a job, a salary if you are lucky, but you won’t get any learning.

Dunya leaks

Malik Riaz’s marathon live interview on Dunya TV, and the subsequent leak of its off-air bits in which both hosts were shown to be chummy with a guest of questionable reputation they were pretending to grill on-air, was the best thing to have happened to Pakistani media. Well, almost.

The media performs the functions of both the mouth, and eyes-and-ears of its audiences. Here was a chance for the mouth to shut up for once and for the eyes and ears to take in the reality; to look at the image of news media as portrayed by the consumers of media; to contemplate and deconstruct the recent developments, beginning with the ‘whispering campaign’ about a grand plot against the judiciary and culminating in exposing media as a party in the plot; and collectively suggest, agree on, and implement corrective measures aimed at restoring media’s credibility.

Instead, the newspapers started throwing the blame on TV, particularly its talk-show hosts, and the television brayed in its defense like never before. Mehr Bukhari attempted the impossible by telling her audiences what they saw in the leaked clips was something that happens in talk-shows on a daily basis and was no big deal really; the real crime was stealing of private moments in the studio, and that is what should be condemned. Her co-host Mubashir Luqman was however suspended, apparently for throwing an on-air tantrum during what he believed was a commercial break.

Talat Hussain deciphered the jargon for his audience and explained, frame by frame, how Dunya hosts had trampled every principle and ethic in the book of journalism. He was of the view though, that the unprofessional conduct of a ‘handful’ of media personalities should not eclipse the honesty and professionalism of a vast majority of media practitioners. Hamid Mir did several programmes in which he demanded accountability of all senior journalists, while Nusrat Javed thundered his prediction that the government was going to use this incident to tighten the noose around news media’s neck and the assorted leaders of journalists’ bodies responded by rolling up their sleeves and vowing to fight back.

Here then is a media just as confused about itself as it is about everything else it takes up. The malaise is much deeper and widespread than the media’s ability or inclination to see and report it. The operating word is not ‘professional malpractice’ but plain old corruption. From a small town correspondent cum news agent, to the sub-editor, editor and owner, corruption is rampant in both print and electronic media, and in that respect Ms. Bukhari is more right than Mr. Hussain, though it makes for a lousy excuse for her own and others’ conduct.

And who is going to hold media to accountability when its own professional bodies have failed in their role as watchdog and have consistently opposed reforms from outside? But accountability was what everyone seemed to want for all of the six days before the prime minister was disqualified by the Supreme Court, and the news bulletins and talk-shows abruptly moved on to the next burning subject.

The leaks failed to bring a positive change, just like the Maya Khan episode, Punjab Assembly’s bill criticising a section of media, and coverage of Karachi carnage of May 2007, and Mumbai attacks failed before it, though all these incidents triggered just as heated a debate on media ethics as seen in the recent days.

Dunyaleaks was an incident comparable to the filming of FC soldiers wantonly killing a young man in a Karachi park. In popular perception killing of innocents at the hands of state functionaries is a daily occurrence, but the video gave the macabre practice a distinct face, a tag to remember by. If not for the two sets of video clips, the conduct of the guilty parties would still be subject of hearsay and unsubstantiated allegations.

All that Dunyaleaks achieved was bringing journalists closer to politicians. The latter have been ridiculed and riled up for their failures and corrupt practices for as long as the private TV channels have existed. It was now time for the politicians to smile and welcome media personalities into the club of the disgraced, and to suggest, tongue in cheek, why doesn’t TV run Indian songs to illustrate the journalists’ wrongdoings?

But the issue of media ethics is already soooo last week. It’s going to be business as usual, until the next revelation whenever it comes. And then we’ll start demanding media accountability all over again.

Teacher meets journalist

Yeh Woh
(The News on Sunday)

‘When a journalist slanders someone in mass media, what can the aggrieved person do?’ asks one of the only three women in a training workshop for some two dozen radio and print journalists.

It is a very unusual question for a workshop on professional ethics. Front line journalists in small town Pakistan are the least curious of the lot. They treat a discussion on ethics the same way they deal with Friday sermon: listen respectfully without hearing, much less questioning or retaining anything about upholding universal values and avoiding unethical conduct. And here’s a young journalist thinking about her audience? Impressive.

Seerat introduced herself as a freelance journalist and columnist for local newspapers but didn’t have anything to show. Then towards the end of the three-day event she privately reintroduced herself: ‘I am no journalist’. Now here’s an honest one, I thought. The rest of the group could but never did admit that they are journalists only because they are employed with a media organisation, otherwise they know nothing about their rights and duties as journalists, and the mythical ‘best practices’.

‘No, seriously, I mean I’ve never worked with media. I am a teacher by profession’. She is wearing a burqa, complete with a veil over her face, showing only her eyes, and there’s no hint of a joke there. Okay ... nice meeting you Seerat the teacher, what brings you here? ‘I wanted to meet journalists and see for myself what kind of people they are’. Hmmm, not to get too personal, but are your parents about to marry you off with a journalist? Or maybe it’s a silly question, let me rephrase it: why?

The answer to this one-word query elicits an hour and a half of explanation.

As head teacher, she sacked a couple of female teachers she found below par. The women ganged up against her and threatened to ruin her life through local media. ‘I didn’t take them seriously. I mean media only says what’s true, right? So why should I worry when I’ve done everything according to rules’. Ah the innocence, the small town innocence of a university graduate. What helped her grow up and learn the reality was an identical piece in two local papers a few days later, displayed across the front page. ‘The head teacher is corrupt,’ announced the headline, with more sensational disclosures in the strap line: ‘teachers say she is mentally ill and tortures students and staff alike’.

Her eyes water a little around the outer corners: ‘Sir do I look like I am mentally ill?’ I try to make out her facial expressions behind the thin veil, failing which I look straight at the scar between her eyebrows and shake my head in sympathy.

‘You are teaching them ethics, so tell me what can I do against unethical reporting that’s tarnishing my image, bringing bad name to my family, and stressing me out even after I quit that job?’ Nothing, I replied with emphasis on the first syllable to denote absolute finality. ‘Nothing?’ she challenged me. ‘Well, a lawyer friend suggested that I should get the two newspapers to retract the offending stories and publish an apology’.

And did you? ‘Yes, I went to one editor, he told me not to teach him how to be a journalist. And after I left his office he called up the other party and received money from them for not entertaining my point of view. Then I went to the other editor but this time I had a few people call him before hand. He agreed the story against me was one-sided but instead of an apology he offered to publish a piece written by me. I gave him two and half pages of my side of the story, but this is all they used,’ she thrusts a folded newspaper towards me. The story is about three column inches and makes no sense, but the headline and strap lines are definitely positive: ‘The head teacher refutes corruption charges – says she is not mentally ill’.

So that proves it you are alright, I found something to say when I finished reading the story. The tear drop in the corner of her eye grew bigger, and rolled down gingerly, mixing with the kohl line and leaving a streak of grey that quickly disappeared in the black veil. ‘I didn’t write this line, they added it on their own,’ she said weakly, not sure if this too is unethical journalism.

Making the horse drink

Yeh Woh

News on Sunday

If there is one thing the entire mass media of Pakistan, and indeed all Pakistanis with an opinion or two agree on, it is the need to inculcate some basic professional ethics into the news media industry. Every single newspaper, every television channel and nearly every anchor person and columnist has a stated position which acknowledges gross violations of ethics on a daily basis, and urges on the reform process.

We have done it for so long that we are getting rather good at it. We boldly accept we work in an unethical environment, thereby implying that we could be ethical professionals only if the environment was right. This opens up media people to plenty of support and encouragement from well meaning people in the world who believe there is no wrong that can not be righted in a five-day training workshop.

Every day somewhere in the country, a group of journalists is taught ethics of reporting on violence, or labour issues, or working women, or elections, or acid crimes … you think of a subject, a theme, and a donor promptly finds money to train or sensitise limited number of media persons in treating that subject professionally. International financial institutions have the money to train business reporters, INGOs are only interested in the humanitarian aspect of reporting, a UN agency can spend a fortune getting us a code of ethics for portraying children, and a country on the reverse side of the globe can fund a campaign to encourage reporting on our environmental issues.

Have the sundry admissions of culpability by all concerned, training of journalists, and five-star consultations with senior editors and owners, made our output any more ethical? Is it possible for an outsider to train part of a local industry, on the application of ethics to one part of the business only, and get wholesome results? Can an industry reform itself by simply shouting for help without putting in any effort, time, and money? And finally, having brought a thirsty horse to water, how do you make it drink?

These are not rhetorical questions, and their purpose is not to belittle the efforts of reformers – all of whom are foreigners or those relying on foreign funding. The idea is to consider the possibility that the horse is only pretending to be thirsty and that is why it won’t drink clean, fresh water. Or that it prefers muddy water that its digestive system is used to.

Ask any group of front line journalists – reporters, subeditors and camera persons – and they’ll tell you their editors are interested in quantity not quality. That they will never allow them the time, space, and material resources to work on a story professionally and ethically. And therefore the only advantage of sitting through a training is, getting a break from work.

At a recently held discussion, senior journalists including well known anchorpersons and working and former editors, agreed that the unethical influence in the news media is entirely the doing of media owners who are obsessed with ratings and breaking news.

Owners of mainstream media are loath to being questioned, but I’ve had the opportunity to ask a group of local media owners in Peshawer what or who stops them from running their business with due regard for the principles and ethics of journalism, and their unanimous reply was: the intelligence agencies.

So, where to begin the reform process then? From intelligence agencies? Or coax media practitioners at every level to know and be responsible for upholding professional ethics within our own spheres, and put in place a media watchdog with real teeth to ensure journalists are not penalised by owners for being loyal to their profession?

The owner is in the business of making money, or getting political patronage, or both, but they are not journalists. They hire a professional editor who exercises executive authority in the day to day running of news operation. Whatever little is ethical in the output then, is credited to the editor, and all the unethical stuff is thrown at the door of the owner, simply because no one dares knock on that door.

If the editor/director is not part of the solution, they are part of the problem. And a big part of a big problem. If the only way foreign donors know of reforming a pesky media is training, then let the senior most editors and newsroom heads be the first to go through it. They need it more than the fresh recruits who simply adapt to the culture created by senior editors.