Conversation
Being skeptical about sources is the job of a journalist – but it doesn’t always happen when those sources are the police
The video of the police force camera shows that Adam Toledo’s hands were raised just before he was shot. Chicago Police Department via AP The death of 13-year-old Adam Toledo could have reached international titles on March 29, 2021 – the day he was shot and killed by a police officer – if the emerging narrative had been different. Instead, early news of the incident was based on a police statement saying Toledo had died in an “armed confrontation”. An image of a weapon recovered on the spot was also released. During a liaison hearing for the man who had been with Toledo when the investigation began, prosecutors said a gun was in Toledo’s hands when police shot him. The camera images released two weeks later now cast doubt on the accuracy of this narrative. A short video shows a chase that ends with Toledo turning his body towards the officer, with his arms raised. There is no weapon in his hands when firing. Cook County State Prosecutor’s Office has since stated that the prosecutor “was not fully informed” before speaking. Others go on to say that the prosecutor lied. Anyway, the camera footage changed the narrative. Protesters take to the streets in Chicago. Jacek Boczarski / Anadolu Agency via Getty Images As a scientist investigating police media coverage and protests, I believe Toledo’s death exposes a blind spot in journalism: a tendency to go with the “police said” narrative without external questions if correct. Unsafe sources? Journalists are responsible for the rapid creation of the first history project. To do this, the profession has routines and rules that help it produce news in a systematic way. Breaking news is often based on accounts and statements made by official sources. This often includes narratives and statements presented by official sources – politicians, police and official spokespersons. These are people that journalists can work with on a regular basis; they are often more accessible under the pressure of a deadline – especially if the victim’s friends and family are difficult to reach or less willing to talk to the press. And even if officials make a mistake or say something defamatory, a journalist can often report what they say with legal impunity. All this gives police officers the opportunity to model the initial version of the event – and the version of their story becomes public awareness before victims, their families and supporters can. But they often do it in an incomplete, misleading or presented way for strategic reasons. Official statements may or may not intentionally deny or omit information. In the case of Toledo, the initial statement given to the media on the day of the shooting mentioned that “an armed criminal”, a “man”, fled the police and a “confrontation” took place. “The officer fired his gun at the criminal.” It is not mentioned that, as it appeared later, it appears that the weapon was thrown and Toledo raised his hands. The report of the incident listed Toledo as “John Doe” and between the ages of 18 and 25 – and thus failed to reveal that Toledo was a child. Similarly, on May 26, 2020, a day after George Floyd’s death in Minneapolis, city police released a statement to the media under the headline “Man dies after medical incident during police interaction.” He mentioned that the “suspect” “physically resisted” and died after “medical suffering”. It is not said that an officer caught Floyd on the ground with one knee on his neck for more than nine minutes. Just a few months earlier, in the report of the police incident documenting the death of Breonna Taylor in 2020 in Louisville, Kentucky, the officers did not include crucial details. She listed her injuries as “none” and suggested that there was no forced entry into her building. In fact, a ram was used and Taylor was shot several times. And in June 2020, when a 75-year-old man fractured his skull during a protest in Buffalo against police brutality, the initial official response was that he “stumbled and fell.” A video quickly circulated showing that he was pushed in front of the group of police in riot gear. In the case of Buffalo, the police version of the story was quickly and easily countered. It took place in the presence of witnesses, including journalists, some of whom filmed. When, in the case of Toledo, the incident is far from the mobile phones of others, it may take longer to determine exactly what happened. The victim’s story Police do not usually release body camera records immediately – if they are not released at all. Most footage is classified for weeks for internal investigation before becoming available to the public. At that point, the audience could have already been fed with a narrative about what happened and the environments of those involved. Journalists have been criticized for being too quick to rely on police to tell the victims’ stories. Therefore, the public tends to know more about the criminal history of the victims and their families, especially shortly after an incident, than about the history of the police officers who shot them. We recently analyzed the media coverage of the protests after the death of Stephon Clark in 2018, who had a mobile phone when the police shot him in his grandmother’s yard. People close to Clark, such as his family and friends, were not the key sources of information about Clark’s character in the cover. Instead, during the six months of coverage of the analyzed news, the news was most often based on police accounts and records that profiled Clark in stereotypical and stigmatizing ways. They were assisted by the district attorney, who launched personal text messages and internet searches from Clark, detailing the relationship difficulties and the apparent suicidal thoughts. The “failure of journalism” After reporting incomplete, misleading or downright police reports too often, reporters and editors are now talking about the issue. It was remarkable that journalists were among the most critical of the media’s response to Toledo’s murder. “That’s why journalists need to stop reporting law enforcement accounts as a fact,” Nikole Hannah-Jones of The New York Times wrote on Twitter. Chris Geidner, executive director of The Appeal, a media law and criminal justice website, went further: “… any narrative based on ‘the police said’ is a failure of journalism. At best, the police should be treated as a source for a story – a reliable narrator in cases such as the shooting of officers – and therefore not sufficient to establish the story. “This is part of a broader media re-evaluation of policies and practices that traditionally distort and inaccurately represent people of color. It includes initiatives to diversify newsrooms that have a long history of under-representing people of color. And it comes at a time when public confidence in the police is declining. A Gallup poll in August 2020 found that police confidence had fallen to its lowest level since the poll began in 1993. Only 48% of respondents said they had high confidence in the police. Likewise, trust in the media has reached a new low. [Get the best of The Conversation, every weekend. Sign up for our weekly newsletter.] Treating police sources with the necessary and appropriate skepticism could give the news audience a more complete picture of incidents, such as police shootings, and could disrupt a process that has privileged some voices over others. And it’s not a radical idea: questioning and verifying information has always been part of the journalist’s job. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit news site dedicated to exchanging ideas from academic experts. It was written by: Danielle K. Kilgo, University of Minnesota. Read more: smartphone witnessing becomes synonymous with black patriotism after George Floyd’s death Why bodycam footage may not clarify things Danielle K. Kilgo doesn’t work, consult, own shares or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and did not disclose any relevant affiliation beyond their academic appointment.