Teaching Notes

You must become the flame on the candle. - Thich Nhat Hanh

Monday, November 22, 2010

Empathy

Under "Links of Interest. . . " on this blog, you'll find a poem by W. H. Auden titled "Musee des Beaux Arts." By 6 p.m. Sunday, Nov. 28, please post a comment as to how the poem relates to the problem of feeling empathy for others discussed in my chapter in our text on journalism and victims of war.

17 comments:

Marietta Cerami said...

The theme within W.H. Auden's poem "Musee des Beaux Arts," can be closely related to the way many journalists treat their stories. Auden's inspiration comes from a painting, “The Fall of Icarus,” which depicts the mythological story about a boy who tragically plunges from the sky into the sea and dies. The painter, Breughel, illustrates the scene very casually. There are boats in the water sailing away and an on looking ploughman who continues to carry on about his chore. This extreme case of human apathy impassions Auden in a disturbing way. These feelings are eventually shared by journalist Michael Nicholson who while covering the Bosnian War, became fed up with the passive nature of journalism and the commitment to “objectivity.” At some point, a story can no longer just be a story. These are real people who are experiencing real suffering and tragedy. The notion that journalists should have to suppress their own empathy in order to stay true to their profession and duty to report fairly seems inhuman to me. I think Nicholson brings up an interesting point when he talks about the journalistic epitaph, referring to advertising all of the world’s ills. Sometimes that is what reading the news feels like. Just because a story or subject impassions someone, does not make him or her any less professional as opposed to someone who is numb to human emotion. As Professor Good says in the chapter, “Impartiality or objectivity or fairness isn’t about a kind of middle ground; it’s about finding the truth.”

Pamela said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Pamela said...

“Musee de Beaux Arts” illustrates human apathy, a trait that is indirectly encouraged in journalism. Auden’s poem is mostly based on Breughel’s painting “Fall of Icarus,” which depicts the continuation of life despite the suffering of others, in this case, Icarus’ fall into disloyal waters. In his poem, Auden seems to express disapproval toward the ploughman who just walked by even though he "may have heard the splash, the forsaken cry."

Michael Nicholson couldn’t ignore the terror that were wars and questioned his dedication to objectivity when he became part of the scene he was expected to report on. Rather than embracing an indifferent and passive role in the Bosnian war, Nicholson chose to act on his humanitarian impulses and help when help was needed. Nicholson’s decision to not ignore empathy deserves recognition, not negative judgment. When Nicholson speaks about feeling disappointed when he looks back on his work as a war correspondent, I can’t blame him for his regret. Although a pen and paper could be a very powerful thing, does it really compare to taking an active role in trying to change the world? Is writing rather than acting just another form of apathy? Are people reading these stories and taking action or are people just reading and ignoring?

Kevin said...

The poem Musee des Beaux Arts relates a lot to the feeling of empathy for others. The poem centers around two main points the miraculous birth and death which is said to be in reference to Christianity. The context of the story revolves around Icarus a mythological figure that was given wings to fly, but flow to close to the sun so his wings melt causing him to fall into the sea. The poem points out that people are unaware of everything happening all around them. We humanly can’t, but we can understand the full significance behind it. If we were able to conceptualize the importance of these milestones of both life and death, we as humans would better be able to understand and feel empathy.

In the chapter Journalism And The Victims Of War Michael Nicholson felt compelled to get involved and give into his feelings of empathy to help the youngest victims of the Bosnian War. Philosopher William Frankena noted that, "we usually go our own busy self-concerned ways, with only an external awareness of the presence of others, much like they're things, without any realization of their inner personal experience." Many would argue that getting involved as a journalist means giving up on objectivity. But I don't see how that’s true. I agree with the statement in the chapter, that the press should of course be as fair as humanly possible, but fairness doesn’t mean treating the victimizers on an equal basis as the victims. You have a duty as a journalist to report the truth and be as objective as possible, but at the same time for a journalist not to feel empathy towards the victims, dehumanizes them to the point they're a robot just reporting on a series of events. Some have the belief that your pen, camera, and writing could help change the world. By making it public, by showing suffering, by showing war, by showing corruption, you're going to help change things. But in the end a single journalist has very little effect on changing the world. All a single one can do is advertise its ills. It takes more than broadcast of pain and suffering to change things.

Kevin said...

The more we see, the more we're desensitized. It said in the chapter that scholars have actually given it a name, “compassion fatigue.” It takes numerous journalist to change the world, and numerous ordinary people to help those in suffering during times of crisis and war. The western world has this ideological belief that we're the freest nation. I think the freest nation would be one without laws; not that that would necessarily work. We think we hear both sides because that’s the way we interpret the news. With only 21% of Americans owning a passport (http://yaleglobal.yale.edu/content/americans-are-tuning-out-world) and a little over 50% ever leaving the country once in their lifetime, little is truly known of foreign countries from a first hand account. Less is even known about the areas surrounding the tourist facades. We all perceive the world differently. We all have different levels of empathy. Little empathy could be felt when sitting comfortably in your living room curled up in your Snuggie as a report comes on that 10 soldiers and more than that in civilian lives died in a single day from war. And that's only the numbers that have been accounted for.

The main obstacle is, we're fed a perspective viewed from our living room only to re-perceive that message. The true story as scene from a civilian or casualties perspective is rarely told. You see images of homes being raided and innocent civilians being shot by mistake. It's rare if ever they'll pull out a mic and go "How do you feel that we mistaken your father for a terrorist?" It doesn't happen, so that first hand account is never told, the most unbiased perspective is rarely told. It's no reason that most Americans are simply as the chapter stated "voyeurs" whether or not we mean to be. It's going to take a realization of our faults as a western society who have everything, to feel for those who have next to nothing to actually change things. The most beautiful thing I read in this chapter actually gave me an image of someone filming Nicholson going out of his way to try to do whatever it took to get the kids out of the crowded orphanages, as if it was being narrated like a play-by-play by William Frankena when he said, Nicholson was developing “an ability to be aware of others as persons, as important to themselves as we are to ourselves, and to have a lively and sympathetic representation in imagination of their interests and of the effects of our actions on their lives.” If we all developed this ability and its fostered by parents currently raising children, this world would go on to see a better tomorrow than today.

Jackie Northacker said...

The painting “The Fall of Icarus” depicts a scene of apathy and a loss of humanity. The story behind the painting is about the tragic death of a boy who plunges from the sun into the sea. Such an event had many witnesses, but none were shaken with grief or compassion. The landscape of the painting portrays a day that is no different than any other day. Boats are sailing in clear blue waters, and men are going about their daily chores. W.H. Auden's poem "Musee des Beaux Arts” was inspired by this work of art. The lines “and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.” This truly embodies the theme of the human lack of empathy and an excess of apathy that is written about in the chapter Journalism and the Victims of War. The idea that even someone falling from the sky to their demise, could not wake a person from their apathetic stares. Michael Nicholson shares his disgust in human nature when it comes to a lack of empathy regarding journalism. The concept of objectivity, especially in war journalism, shows for a complete lack of human compassion because of the inactive behavior of the journalists who write about it. I share his personal view on objectivity regarding journalism. I think the journalists who argue against Nicholson’s views are hiding behind the word ‘objectivity’, and really just encompass moral cowardice. There must be a certain point where a journalist feels that the story is not just a story, but is real life, in the moment, human pain and suffering. Nicholson writes, “You can still be close to the truth as any person can be and still show a commitment, and emotional anguish. I don’t see them to be contradictory.” This comment really embodies the idea of empathy and what objectivity really means. I believe a person can write a story and have an objective point of view, but also be, for lack of a better phrase, a fucking human being. In my perspective, I believe being compassionate, empathetic, sympathetic, etc., actually makes you a better writer, a better journalist, a better human being. You have taken the step to be a part of the bigger picture, rather than taking a back seat. Isn’t that what life is all about?

K. Carroll said...

The poem “Musee des Beaux Arts” was inspired by the painting “The Fall of Icarus,” and depicts the death of a young boy in a nonchalant way. The boy falls from the sun into the sea below and drowns. The way the painting portrays this, however, is very impartial. We, as viewers, aren’t meant to feel sorry for the boy, or know how the artist (in this case, Breughel) feels. We are meant to wonder what the artist was thinking, and what his opinions on the matter are.
A connection can be made between the objectivity of this painting (the apathy, as many other posts have described it) and the commitment of a journalist to remaining objective. It is our job to observe, and report. We are not supposed to inject our own opinions into what we are reporting on, although often times that does happen. The question raised in the chapter of the textbook is, when does it become necessary to forget about objectivity and expose the horrors of a certain situation properly? Michael Nicholson got frustrated during the Bosnian War because journalists were remaining objective, despite all of the horrors around them.
I’m of the belief that, at a certain point, it becomes necessary to show our opinions in the media. Not in the news, and certainly not presented as such, but as an opinion piece where the journalist clearly states that this is how he or she feels, and uses factual information to back it up. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen much either.

Liz Velez said...

W.H. Auden's poem "Musee des Beaux Arts" relates to problem of empathy in journalism in several ways.

In the poem, Auden seems to describe compassion fatigue with the lines "how everything turns away/Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may/Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,/But for him it was not an important failure;..." People are bombarded with images of suffering and war, to the point where it makes it commonplace and too much effort to care about all of the terrible things going on in the world. I think that journalists are aware of this and are also affected by it to the point where feeling empathy for their subjects is impractical because there are so many of them and little they can do without drawing professional criticism.

It is said to be professional as a journalist you have to remain emotionally uninvolved, reinforcing the difficulties with empathy journalists may already have due to compassion fatigue. I believe that to be ethical you have to care about the subjects, especially if they have lost good judgment due to suffering or trauma and especially if there is something morally wrong occurring. It is the responsibility of a journalist to report these things with empathy so that the audience might feel it too.

kiersten bergstrom said...

I understand that part of being a journalist is to separate yourself from the subject, to stay objective in your reporting. In war, I understand that there has to be a factual, serious sense in reporting; however, when a journalist is covering a war from the battlefields, I don't think it is possible to maintain that stance at all times.

In W, H. Audren's poem "Musee des Beaux Arts" the author talks about how people go on with their lives as though nothing has happened, even when the most horrid events occur. The poem talks about a painting called "The Fall of Icarus" in which a boy falls from the sky into the sea and dies. There is a nearby boat, yet nobody cared enough to help the boy, and the boat sailed on calmly.

This apathy for human kind is what the journalism field encourages. Apathy is only useful until a certain point. In the chapter on war and empathy, Michael Nicholson could not carry out that sort of apathy. He was empathetic to the people around his, to the war around him. He says “You can still be close to the truth as any person can be and still show a commitment, and emotional anguish. I don’t see them to be contradictory.”

War is a serious topic and it affects and takes away many people's lives. I believe that there must be some empathy in order to convey the impact of a war. I really believe in Nicholson's statement and believe that when it comes to the life of a human being, objectivity takes a backseat for any journalist.

Jenn Von Willer said...

“Musee de Beaux Arts” was a good poem about empathy and another reminder to listen to your parents. I thought the painting would be a little more graphic until I read the bottom portion of the webpage that locates the flopping legs/drowning Icarus near one of the ships. The townspeople are completely oblivious to what’s going on and sadly, sometimes that really happens far too often in real life. For example, if something happens to somebody on a NYC subway, it’s rare for another to stand up for that person unless they have a gun.

It was interesting to see commentary from David Rieff, but if his mother wasn’t Susan Sontag I think he’d have a different opinion about war. Empathy is very important, to me and for everyone else to comprehend, and I’m also surprised that the topic wasn’t found in any media-ethics textbooks.

I understand not finding “empathy” for newswriting, however it’s not realistic for me as a human to suppress any empathy if it comes natural. Some things I just don’t care about at all that I know journalists really ought to. But this terrible Bosnian War was a reminder of the comic book journalism “Christmas with Kardizic” from our Literature of Journalism class last spring. The author tried to have empathy for both sides, as he had in his other publications dealing with the Gaza Strip and Zionism.

I still think that journalists need empathy if they are expected to be the voice of an unsung war victim. More than 1600 innocent children should not have died in the siege but still, as your chapter describes the film, “Welcome to Sarajevo”, the reporters were there to report, not to help and especially not to adopt one of the victims. Even though I wasn’t born when these troubles began and I was only in my beginning of grade school during the siege in 1994-96, it definitely bothers me that this wasn’t broadcasted to the rest of the world. It’s now an obscure event in world history, much like the Armenian genocide that I just discovered on my own a few years ago.

If the public forgets about these events, it’s bound to happen again and if empathy isn’t recognized, the number of casualties and victims will only increase, which is another reason why journalists like Nicholson need empathy in my opinion.

bina fronda photography said...

Last tuesday, I arrived at home in Brooklyn at arount 9pm. Dancing with the stars was on, and it has become an obsession in my family- so everyone was watching it. After the show, we watched the news. I was absolutely apalled at the fact that Dancing with the Stars was mentioned and reviewed in the news over three times in one hour, while other more important stories, such as, oh I don't know, the war, was only covered once. Dancing with the Stars got long stories with interviews and playbacks while world news had quick two minute covers that left me angry and confused. In terms of the viewers, well we aren't being empathetic towards others because we are too busy watching what celebrity is a better dancer.

In the poem, "Musee de Beaux Artes," Auden writes of the lack of empathy displayed in the painting "Fall of Icarus" by Breugal.

The chapter, Journalisma and War, tries to explain the separation of empathy and journalism, keeping the opinions out of facts. In the case of Nicholson, he learned that it is inevitable to give in when you are so involved as a journalists. Journalists are in the front line, experiencing what the others do, but keeping it objective. As Nicholson mentioned, in the case of Sarajevo, it was a whole new ballgame. Nicholson wrote, that this was not observing from a hilltop what was going on, as what happens in the painting by Breughal, but actually having lived in the pain and suffering that the Bosnians did.

As an observer, I am sure you can look at someone get killed once, and maintain coolness, twice and be okay, but to watch people being slaughtered, well I would say that being just an observer becomes unethical.
I think Kevin brought up a good point that you never see whats really happening going on in the news. No one walks up to a house thats just been bombed, or films someone getting shot and broadcasts it on tv. Remember Vietnam? With all the technology we have today, why don't we have a 24 hour coverage?

In terms of keeping journalism objective with victims of war, I think its ok to bend the rules of objectivity. At the end of the day, these are real people with real stories, and the facts are heartless. THe real facts are stained with blood, tears and pain. No one wants to read statistics.

Brandon said...

The theme expressed in W.H. Auden’s poem “Musee des Beaux Arts” is reminiscent of how journalists are supposed to regard their stories- without empathy to human suffering. Whether it’s due to an unwillingness to put oneself in another’s shoes or preoccupations, empathy is something not found as often as it should be in life. The painting shows Icarus almost comically flailing in the ocean as no one notices and everyone goes about his or her day unaffected. This ship nearby him sails forward despite its close proximity to Icarus, and the poem questions the ships inability to hear or see the fallen man. Perhaps they did and they simply too concerned with their job to care. However, the question remains though how empathy is to be considered in the lens of journalistic integrity. This issue is more closely investigated through Michael Nicholson’s experience covering the Bosnian War, where Nicholson was criticized for his inability to remain objective. Some of the more extreme critics even believed that his inability to remain unaffected by the horrors around him irreparably destroyed his ability to report impartially. Perhaps Nicholson should have remained uninvolved in the horrors of a conflict comparable to the Holocaust like his contemporaries, despite the tremendous difficulty to do so, but the question remains whether or not it can actually improve one’s ability to convey truth to the public. Maybe then he would be able to report only what people need to know to construct their own opinions- their own empathies if they so choose. So the question then becomes- in an age where journalists must be held to the highest ethical practices, how does one get to the truth and then allow the world to see it? In such awful circumstances is it really possible to remain unbiased? Is it enough for one to only report the facts of a story and implore the reader to see the reality behind it? Convention says yes. But perhaps the job of a journalist is to challenge convention in the pursuit of a purer form of truth to share with the public, a truth that inspires empathy to all.

Brandon said...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKyIw9fs8T4

Has nothing to do with empathy, but we always talk about how stupid our culture has become, I thought this was a hilarious commentary on it.

Kaitmint said...

W.H. Auden's poem "Musee des Beaux Arts" relates to the issues represented in the Chapter Journalism and the Victims of war. The poem describes a scene where a boy falls form the sky, lands in the water, and drowns while an expensive boat in plain view of this continues on its journey. Its almost as if people have things to do so why notice a boy falling from the sky to his death.

The chapter in the book talks about Michael Nicholson's frustration with how Journalists were portraying the Bosnian war. I believe when put in a situation of war the information gathered and portrayed in a story must be accurate and truthful and most definitely harsh. People must know what wartime is like and by telling the stories the way they are happening allows people to delve into the world of the people who are directly affected by this manmade tragedy. In the poem the tragedy is not man made, one boy falls from the sky and dies, that is a tragedy, the bigger one is that the fisherman did nothing to help. In the situation in the chapter the journalists are the fishermen and Michael Nicholson is the fisherman who makes a difference by choosing to acknowledge his empathetic feelings and use them for good.

Brianna McDonald said...

I think empathy is a very important concept for everyone, let a lone journalists, to fully grasp. Without the ability to empathize, journalists cannot fully connect with their audience or their subjects. In any journalist investigation, especially war, its the journalist's job to make a connection between the subject in the audience. We the audience do not typically experience war, and it is near impossible for us to connect and empathize with those at war as we're miles away. If the reporter cannot put themselves in the position and mindset of those at war, there is truly no way that the general public can truly fathom the horrors and atrocities that are taking place.
“Musee des Beaux Arts” by W.H Auden brings up the painting “The Fall of Icarus” by Breughel and brings attention to those involved besides Icarus himself. Auden writes “how everything turns away / Quite leisurely from the disaster”, relating to how those in the painting lack empathy for what has happened to Icarus. The apathy that's clearly evident within the individuals, specifically the ploughman and sailors of the ship, makes Auden distraught and angered for their indifference to Icarus' suffering. He does note, however, that their apathy is with reason, albeit a poor one- they cannot feel a connection for what has happened to Icarus because they are too preoccupied with their own problems.

Annie Yu said...

“Should they[journalists] stand around and watch while innocent civilians are being slaughtered?” (157, Good).

This is the main question the text poses. Even though journalists are supposed to be subjective, if they are reporting on issues such as war, rape, or something that might lure the slightest empathetic feeling, the journalist may be forced to pick a side. I do not agree with Henderson’s comment, “We’re not here to help. We’re here to report.” Because he is a reporter, Henderson should be helping – he has access to much more than an average civilian does.

In Auden’s poem “Musee des Beaux Arts,” Auden comments on how people go about their day, oblivious to the tragedies occurring around them. Specifically, he focuses on Icarus falling from the sky because the sun has melted his wings. The ploughman continues to plough and the people on the “delicate ship” do not notice “a boy falling out of the sky.”

We have this wall built up against others. We may not show empathy because we are being selfish; selfish in the sense that we are only looking out for ourselves. If we turn a blind eye – who’s going to prevent the tragedy from turning into a catastrophe?

Samantha Minasi said...

W. H. Auden’s poem creates images of all kind of crazy far-fetched things happening, and others kind of blindly and slowly continuing on with their routines never noticing. I think the author is trying to make a statement about human detachment and lack of concern or connection to each other’s pain and strife.

This concept relates to the issue discussed in chapter 12 about the problem of journalistic empathy because it’s the same sort of juxtaposition. For example, in the poem… someone eating, or “just dully walking along” is contrasted with a “miraculous birth”. Later in the poem Auden writes; “the expensive delicate ship that must have seen something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.”

This imagery of something so crazy as a boy falling from the sky and the expensive ship not caring and floating calmly by is the same sort of sentiment we feel as we read this passage from the chapter on page 153: “Dozens of people lie dead in or horribly wounded all over the street. Greg starts filming. A woman sitting on the curb bleeding shouts at his camera in Bosnian. He just keeps filming.”

In this passage, you’ve got two journalists in the midst of the devastation of the Bosnian war, and the journalist is so unfazed and unconcerned with the plight of his fellow humans he opts to shoot the scene rather than do something to help. This disconnection is the same issue we see in the poem.

This ethical situation for journalists covering wars and victims of war is a difficult one because it basically pins one’s professional and journalistic mission against the basic human reaction of feeling the need to help another in need. As it was said in the beginning of the chapter, most journalists try to never feel any sort of partiality towards a subject, but when does that standard become unimportant? Does staying objective on a story come before helping a dying human being? I would argue not.

Is Media Ethics Education DOA?

It sounds like a joke Jay Leno would tell during his opening monologue on The Tonight Show. Hear about the graduate students at the prestigious journalism school? They got caught cheating on an ethics exam. Ha ha ha. Except that’s actually what happened at Columbia University in late 2006.

Students had been given 48 hours to sign onto a Columbia Web site to take the final exam in a required course called “Critical Issues in Journalism.” They then had 90 minutes to answer two essay questions.

The students were warned to not discuss the questions with each other, but apparently they did. As the headline over a story reporting the scandal put it, “Ivy J-Schoolers Fail Ethics, Ace Irony.”

No one admitted cheating despite pressure from the school’s administrators and pleas from classmates, who feared the scandal would damage the market value of their degrees. Meanwhile, the teacher of the course, New York Times columnist Samuel G. Freedman, refused to comment. But if the disgruntled posts on RateMyProfessors.com are any indication, his students hadn’t exactly been soaking up knowledge. “Maybe he could e-mail his ‘speeches’ to the students instead of making everyone suffer through the most wasted class in j-school. . . ,” one read.

There’s an old cowboy saying that goes, “When your horse dies, get off.” Journalism ethics education is a dead horse. Or else those aren’t vultures circling in the sky.

A Question for Socrates


The question of how ethics is learned, or even if it can be, is as old as Western philosophy. In Plato’s dialog Meno the title character asks, “Can you tell me, Socrates, whether virtue is acquired by teaching or by practice; or if neither by teaching nor practice, then whether it comes to man by nature, or in what other way?” Of course, Socrates, being Socrates, resists giving a definite answer. But we can’t. The sad fact is, students had better get an effective ethics education now or they may never.


Last summer I conducted an ethics workshop for some reporters and editors at the Poughkeepsie Journal, a small daily in upstate
New York owned by Gannett Co., Inc. The woman in charge of organizing the workshop had supplied us with several case studies to examine. I remember one dealt with a classic conflict of interest, a copy editor who moonlighted at a local radio station.

But what I remember most is the air of defeat that clung to the staff as we sat on hard plastic chairs in the break room discussing the cases. I could hear in their voices the bitterness and cynicism of employees forced to follow corporate policies they despised. Recently, for example, the paper had started running display ads on the front page and section fronts, a much more grievous ethical lapse, their mumbled asides suggested, than anything the case studies might have to offer.

I don’t want my students to ever wear the gray, defeated expression I saw that day on the faces at the Journal. But given the downward direction in which the media are moving, and fast, how in the world can I prevent it from happening?

Teaching Media Ethics by Telling Stories

A friend of mine who teaches at a big Midwestern university recounts in class the events of her first week as a reporter for the Minneapolis Tribune. She was sent to Duluth to cover Democratic presidential candidate Hubert Humphrey on the campaign trail. When they were introduced, Humphrey vigorously shook her hand. “Oh yes, Susan,” he said, “I read your stuff all the time.” He couldn’t have read her stuff, though; she hadn’t written anything yet. “Just a few words,” she explains to her students, “but words that taught this fledging reporter a great lesson about pols and the little lies they tell.”

I usually find occasion during the semester to quote I. F. Stone’s dictum, “Every government is run by liars and thieves, and nothing they say should be believed,” to make the same point. But Susan’s story makes the point better. That’s because it has existential force. Her story vividly captures in a way a secondhand quote can’t the realities of a reporter’s life.

Some might think telling “war stories” is a waste of precious class time. I’ve a colleague who didn’t want to fall into the “trap” of regaling students with stories ad nauseam (“which, let’s face it, is easier than teaching or grading,” he said). So one semester he kept track. When he toted it all up at the end, he was surprised that he’d used less than an hour - out of 45 – talking about his newspaper experiences. And yet, he admitted, it was his stories that students seemed to remember most.

“Stories teach us how to live,” Daniel Taylor said in his essay, “The Ethical Implications of Storytelling.” What he meant was that stories preserve our experience for contemplation and evaluation. Although not all stories carry a heavy message, there’s an entire category of stories, so-called “exemplary tales,” that are told to convey a moral.

Our war stories are potentially just such tales. They can provide evidence, in ethicist John Barton’s words, of “how real human beings live through various crises and trials and remain human.” My colleague who kept tabs on his storytelling has described his stories as cautionary. Most, he said, deal with “screwups I learned from.”

But sometimes the storyteller and the audience can’t agree on what exactly the moral of a story is.

When Susan was a cub reporter on the Tribune, she interviewed the Beatles, who were on their second tour of the States. She got into their hotel room by dressing up as a waitress in an ugly, mustard-colored uniform and accompanying an actual room service waiter upstairs. Ringo took one look at her little plastic name tag – it read “Donna Brown” – and snorted, “What kind of name is that?” The waiter nudged her in the side. “Tell them what you real name is,” he urged. She did, as well as her reason for being there. Rather than throw her out, the Beatles politely answered her questions. They even let her phone for a photographer. The next day her story ran on the front page, with a photo of John sitting at a table and looking up at her and laughing as she poured coffee in his cup. She still has a glossy print of that photo somewhere.

Many of Susan’s students think she’s nuts for not having the photo hanging up in her office. They also think she’s nuts for saying she’d never participate in the same kind of stunt today. To her celebrity-struck students, disguising herself as a hotel waitress to get an interview with the Beatles seems soooo cool. They lose all sight of the fact that it wasn’t a story of vital public interest that demanded undercover methods.

Susan intends one lesson when she talks about her hard day’s night, but her students, living in a paparazzi-saturated culture, draw another. “It may be a lost cause,” she remarked to me.

Or maybe not. Negotiations over what the point of a story is can be part of the point of the story. In the process of negotiating, we test different interpretations, try out different themes. This is helpful. This is educational. Lawrence Kohlberg, the Harvard psychologist famous for his research on the stages of moral development, contended that “the teaching of virtue is the asking of questions. . . not the giving of answers.” Stories don’t necessarily have to yield clear moral rules to be of value. It’s enough sometimes if they just give us something to think about.