We were doing so well.
In November, the Star-Telegram had published 36 corrections, a record low compared with the previous five Novembers (51 in 2005, 49 in 2004, 70 in 2003, 47 in 2002 and 57 in 2001).
December’s correction count is growing slowly, but a couple of errors this month were hair-pulling tumbles from the wagon — not that all errors aren’t, but these were basic lapses that leave staffers and readers blinking in disbelief and are worth noting for at least a couple of reasons.
Granted, we publish millions of accurate facts, but the errors were good reminders of how inaccuracy can dampen credibility.
Plus, the errors’ timing coincided with an invitation to readers from Executive Editor Jim Witt to volunteer for a reader panel that will help shape an overhaul of the Star-Telegram.
In a half-page, full-color package on Monday, the invitation included samples of section fronts from a working prototype and a sampling of changes that are in the works.
This will involve deep and timely changes that stand to result in a stunning departure from tradition in many ways except one: As Witt wrote, “Be assured that one thing about the Star-Telegram will never change, and that’s our commitment to earning your trust.”
Attainment of reader trust — in the printed Star-Telegram, the electronic edition and all news and information products — will be tied (as always) to our commitment to balance and fairness — and accuracy.
No amount of repackaging, inventive design, reader-interaction initiatives and innovative storytelling can or will change that reality, as we know. So one question among many as the new version of the paper takes shape will be how we can assure accuracy as well as fairness and balance.
Perhaps we’ll find a solution that will prevent blowouts like the following.
One of the Star-Telegram’s most faithful readers spotted one of the errors mentioned above and called it to our attention via e-mail:
“Did you notice in Saturday’s paper, I think it was on Page 7B, a photo of two kids playing chess, and the said they were playing checkers? I’m assuming the photographer was under 40 and nobody under 40 knows what checkers or chess or backgammon games are; they’ve grown up playing only electronic computer games.”
I don’t know how valid his culture point is, because I have small granddaughters who can hold their own against me in checkers, but there’s no questioning the validity of the reader’s shock.
The same goes for readers who were momentarily confused, while reading about officials’ division over how to pay for a regional rail system, when they ran across an editing oversight. The story referred to “State Rep.” Florence Shapiro, R-Plano. Shapiro is a state senator.
Blink, blink.
One reader asked his favorite question whenever he reports an error: “Doesn’t anyone edit this stuff?”
Yes, but we’re missing a human remedy from the Stone Age that would erect a mighty backup defense against errors that no computer program or harried staffer on deadline could match: proofreaders, those wonderful thinkers, grammarians, spellers and widely read all-around trivia experts from yesteryear.
Their roles were absorbed by technology and loaded onto copy editors, and we’ve paid the price in inaccuracies ever since. Probably the worst idea to hit the newspaper industry (other than public ownership) was the elimination of proofreaders.
Perhaps there’s a 21st-century generation of proofreaders on the way. Perhaps not.
Either way, the accuracy burden remains, and the weight of our credibility often rests on whether simple facts are reported correctly.
When we write, as we did recently, that a man fell 15 feet from a 6-foot ladder, we hear from readers who echo a Lockheed Martin retiree. “In my business,” he complained, “error was not an option.”
