This is one of the toughest pieces of writing I’ve had to tackle in a career which has touched many journalistic bases and spans more than 30 years.
I am leaving the Herald as of now and the ombudsman position is being eliminated. Other channels of communication will be established for readers.
The ombudsman exists as the readers’ representative on the inside. As such, the ombudsman is the ham in the sandwich, with readers on one side and staff on the other.
Over the past decade in this seat, I’ve fielded more than 30,000 calls from readers — mainly about newspaper content. By answering questions, explaining how things work and unearthing why some things go wrong, I hope I’ve helped develop a better understanding between journalists and readers. All too often there is no real communication. Those who gather the news and those who read it exist in two solitudes.
It is not an easy balancing act, since complaints about newspaper content are rarely as simple as black and white, or two plus two equals four. More often, they involve moral, ethical or technical issues which defy easy judgments.
I have always tried to fulfill my mandate by giving serious consideration to reader complaints. Many have provided the grist for the more than 400 ombudsman columns I’ve written since 1985. This is the last. Complaints that didn’t make the column have been brought to the attention of editors and department heads in internal memos, phone calls and a log detailing reader feedback which is distributed to all departments.
The vast majority of readers I have dealt with have been reasonable people with legitimate concerns about some aspect of the paper.
A few I would politely class as “difficult,” and some frankly as members of the lunatic fringe. Somehow, they stick in your mind and certainly they posed the greatest challenge to my commitment to give every reader a hearing.
One reader was convinced that he was the prime minister and called regularly to discuss political coverage. Another sounded as if he was calling from a boiler factory in full production and had a voice to match. He would begin by personally denigrating some unfortunate staffer and insist on talking to the “boss.” He was one of the few callers I ever hung up on.
My dealings with staff over the years on behalf of readers led to the occasional confrontation. I was told junior reporters would take refuge under their desks when the ominous shadow of the ombudsman darkened the newsroom. I hope that isn’t true. But the majority of my erstwhile colleagues treated me with a respect and courtesy, and friendship, which I will cherish. I hope I was right at least 51 percent of the time in my judgments, but in retrospect I’m sure Solomon did it better.
My association with the Herald dates back to 1961, when I arrived as an “immigrant” from Toronto and the mysterious East. Except for a few years at the Vancouver Sun and the University of British Columbia, I have been here since. These years made me a dedicated Calgarian and westerner and led me several times to turn down opportunities to work elsewhere in Canada and the United States.
Briefly, my career included stints as a political reporter at all three levels of government, energy reporter, business editor, editorial writer and columnist.
Despite the fascination of these jobs, my appointment as the paper’s ombudsman in September 1985 gave me the most unique perspectives. It has been rewarding, frustrating and a daily education. The newspaper business is infinitely more complex than most readers and many journalists realize.
There are a couple of important things left to say. During my tenure as ombudsman I worked for two publishers: Patrick J. O’Callaghan and Kevin Peterson.
They were friends and mentors as well as bosses. They understood the ombudsman’s function and gave me the privilege of freedom to do the job as I saw fit. They both cared deeply about this newspaper and its readers.
Last, but not least, are the secretaries who served me and the public over the years. We all know that secretaries do the real work. And that is true for the late Pat Stanke, for Christine Jilek and my current miracle-worker, Vicki Sand. They truly worked some magic by taking an organizational klutz and turning him into a reasonably effective reader’s representative.
Well, that’s it folks. As Edward R. Murrow used to say:
Good night and good luck.
