Why editorial independence is important, both for Anglican Watch and for other so-called “discernment bloggers”

Over the past year, we’ve had several situations in which we’ve faced external pressure to edit or remove content because someone doesn’t like it. When that happens, things usually end badly, with this publication having to tell someone to take a hike and the hiker feeling that our staff wasn’t very nice, helpful, or whatever other adjective comes to mind. So, this post shares our thoughts on why we need to maintain editorial independence.

What is editorial independence?

So what is editorial independence?

Simply put, it’s deciding what we publish and how we publish.

To be clear, that’s different than correcting errors. The latter happens, even at major outlets like the New York Times. And it’s easy to make errors when, as here, a publication is all-volunteer. As in late nights, not enough coffee, had 82 other things going on at the same time.

Of course, when we make a mistake, we’re quick to fix it. Indeed, integrity demands that we fix material errors immediately.

Then there is an admittedly fuzzy grey area involving trauma.

For example, in one case, we pulled a story over issues involving the victim’s PTSD. Indeed, while we do not meet the traditional definition of journalists, we try to adhere to the journalistic/ethical notion of “do no harm.”

In another, it became clear to us that the parties were trying to negotiate a legal settlement, and that the kindest thing we could do was to pull a story while conversations played out. (The parties did reach a settlement, which we privately celebrated.)

In some cases, we’ll also make minor changes to an article if doing so doesn’t change the meaning of the story and would be helpful to the victim. But when we do, it’s invariably accompanied by a warning that it’s a “one-and-done” situation.

What we refuse to do

There’s also a bright line in terms of what we won’t do.

Specifically, we won’t pull or change an article because a church, its members, an employer, or another third party doesn’t like it. Nor will we self-censor, as in “please don’t write about the church school.” (Karma being what it is, within a few weeks, there is inevitably a complaint about someone at said school.)

Nor do we write on demand. While we try to help as many people as we can, every once in a while, we’ll get someone who basically tries to tell us, “I need this to go out on Friday.”

Um, no.

So why the hard line?

Of course, it’s not easy to tell someone no when, for instance, their employer is unhappy about coverage. But it needs to happen, and here’s why.

At its most basic, our publication, our rules.

We have a board of advisors and internal policies that govern our decisions. That means someone can’t just send us an email and say, “Please take it down,” and it happens. In fact, in many cases, if we see that a situation is going to be tumultuous, we’ll have already discussed the matter internally and made decisions about what we will and won’t do to support an abuse victim, well in advance of any drama.

In other words, it’s a boundary issue. Just as Joe Biden or Donald Trump cannot call the Wall Street Journal and request content removal, that isn’t going to work here.

But there are larger issues as well.

Freedom of speech

One of these larger issues is freedom of speech.

It is important to maintain this most basic human right at a time when free speech is threatened at multiple levels. And while the First Amendment may prevent the government from restricting freedom of speech, increasingly, we see the private sector taking the approach of ‘freedom for me and not for thee.’ “ Needless to say, civil society will not survive for long if and when people claim the right to limit otherwise lawful discourse.

It’s also important to note that almost every church abuse case has an element of free speech to it. Whether it’s calling someone a “domestic terrorist” because they complained about abuse in their church, or pushing someone out of a church because they said something church officials don’t like, behind the scenes, free speech is an ever-present issue and a freedom that abusive churches inevitably try to impinge.

The desire of churches and third parties to shut down free speech is doubly problematic, since no church or other organization operates with transparency and accountability when it engages in censorship. Since we advocate for both, we inevitably shoot ourselves in the foot and undermine our own message if we allow others to censor us.

The role of so-called discernment bloggers, or Friends of Stan

Understanding these issues also requires a recognition of the role of us so-called “discernment bloggers,” or, as auto-correct sometimes calls us, “Friends of Stan.” (Or Son of Satin. This author’s preference, just for the record, is 100 percent cotton.)

Specifically, until recently, mainstream media typically treated abuse within churches as unworthy of coverage and an internal matter to be resolved within the relevant faith communities.

We know how that worked out.

Meanwhile, folks in Stan Land are making progress, both in getting mainstream media to pay attention to church abuse, and in insisting that churches take abuse seriously. Indeed, in the Episcopal Church, we’re seeing judicatories take the Title IV church canons somewhat more seriously, which is good, because there are plenty of dioceses that say they take abuse seriously, even as they ignore the provisions of Title IV.

That said, there still is enormous inertia when it comes to covering church abuse. That extends to traditional media, new media, and social pressure. And while the Roman church and evangelicals are large enough to garner coverage occasionally, the tiny Episcopal Church rarely rates a mention, no matter how egregious the conduct.

Nor are things helped by church culture. Indeed, the few people out there who care about the Episcopal Church often try to split the difference, relying on empty “reasoning” like, “I know the church has faults, but those folks at Anglican Watch are so snarky,” or “I don’t feel Iike they want us to succeed,” as an excuse to avoid change or accountability.

And, for the record, ask someone who’s tried to get the Episcopal Church to address sexual abuse what they think about being snarky, and you’ll quickly get an earful about corruption in the denomination, a lack of accountability, and lots of uses of the word “evil.” Indeed, the conversation will go well beyond snarky, quickly crossing into the realm of justifiably angry.

In other words, the Friends of Stan have an obligation to push forward, even when doing so involves swimming upriver, despite most of the other fish taking the easier path downriver. And that often means saying no, despite enormous pressure on multiple fronts to conform, go along, be nice, hedge our bets, and temper our words.

Protecting victims

Then there is the issue of protecting victims of church abuse.

One of the inevitable aspects of running a so-called “discernment blog” is receiving cease-and-desist letters. Indeed, the worse the behavior, the more likely a perpetrator will threaten to sue. As a result, most such letters elicit a big yawn, followed by a trip to the paper shredder. (Better efforts are known as “frameables” and find places of honor on the office walls.)

That said, it’s a basic aspect of the American legal system that someone may be liable for any tort in which they participate.

So, if someone claims in court that Anglican Watch defamed them, that’s exclusively our problem, not the victim’s, as long as the victim wasn’t part of content development or the decision to publish.

In other words, we’ll take the hit if necessary, but doing so requires that those we write about give us room to do our job.

Similarly, in the case of an employer or church, if an abuse victim gets criticism from a third party, and as a result asks us to pull the content, and we do, it becomes immediately obvious that the victim did, in fact, have control over our publishing.

While an employer can, in most cases, fire someone for any non-discriminatory reason or no reason at all, doing so becomes much easier if it is clear that the victim contributed to the allegedly objectionable content. (No, the First Amendment does not extend to private actors.) On the other hand, if someone is a good employee and they had no hand in our coverage, why would any rational actor take our decision to publish out on the employee?

The same goes for timing issues.

Every once in a while, we’ll get someone who says, “Please take your article down for a few days.”

But in our experience, the timing of an article makes zero difference to the victim. As in, what a church or employer thinks is a problem on Monday will still be seen as a problem on Friday. And the following week. And later that year. And so on.

Meanwhile, content often has already made the rounds on social media and, sometimes, the newswires. So we’re not willing to have hundreds or even thousands of readers and media outlets click through, only to discover an error message. That just irritates the public and makes us look incompetent, even as it wastes the time and money we spent sending a release out on the newswires, etc. (For the record, the newswires are not cheap and we pay for placement, not those we write about.)

Nor is putting content up, taking it down, and putting it up again helpful in cases of litigation or negotiation. Indeed, abusers are like sharks that can smell blood in the water, and a victim who wavers, tries to split the difference, or plays timing or reputation management games, inevitably will be seen as weak and flailing around.

Of course, some people get cold feet, resulting in requests like, “You made it too public.”

All we can say to that is, “Well, yes, media outlets do make things public.” But that falls into the impression management space, and complying with such requests is a recipe for disaster for both the victim and this publication.

Indeed, anyone who claims defamation and sues will quickly ask the question during discovery, “If you believed your article to be true, why did you pull it down 24 hours later?’ And there is no answer to that question that doesn’t create the inference that, at a minimum, there were issues with the article.

The nature of bullies

All of this feeds into a related issue: the nature of bullies/abusers.

Regrettably, the sort of people who hurt others are often the very people who don’t respond to negotiation. In other words, appeasing a bully never works. Instead, it results in further escalation.

Thus, pulling or editing content puts all involved in a no-win situation. On the one hand, publishing undoubtedly irritated the snot out of the bully/abuser. On the other hand, pulling content throws the door wide open to further bad behavior, adding insult to injury.

Self-preservation

There’s also a selfish aspect to things that we cannot ignore. Specifically, writing about church abuse on a daily basis is a hard thing, spiritually, emotionally, and even logistically.

This human toll is true for all the so-called discernment bloggers. Get to know anyone in this space, and you’ll quickly discover there are times we go silent, step away for a day or so, or roam around glaring at passersby. (Or binging on Häagen-Dazs.)

In other words, we, like the other “discernment bloggers,” do what we need to in order to maintain these ministries.

But when we encounter someone who doesn’t respect boundaries or repeatedly tries pushing past those boundaries even after being warned to back off, sometimes we need to say, “No mas.” This is not only to maintain our organizational and editorial integrity but also our personal health and well-being.

Indeed, sometimes it’s like being a cop: If a cop gets herself shot, she cannot help others. So we need to make sure we’re not in the line of fire, even if it involves difficult choices. 

Relatedly, we often get it from all sides. Loyal Episcopalians think we’re mean, have an axe to grind, the whole nine yards. Meanwhile, abusers and bullies refer to us a “domestic terrorists,” “haters,” and “disgruntled.” (As if anyone observing abuse shouldn’t, by right, be “disgruntled.”)

And then we get sociopathic church attorneys and vestry members who claim we’re trying to “impugn their integrity,” even as they file false police reports, lie to the courts, and more. Yes, you know who you are.

At the same time, those we write about often dish out their own super-sized criticism of us, ranging from telling us what they find to be “a problem” to trying to manage impressions by telling third parties that we’re “loonies,” “crazy,” or whatever ad hominem attack suits their purposes.

To be clear, in this space, no good deed goes unpunished, even as we’re told not to take these claims personally. And Stan Land is, by definition, a place of high drama, at a time in our lives where we value peace and tranquility.

At the same time, as in any ministry, the person in charge is always responsible for maintaining boundaries. No excuses, no exceptions, no explanations.

Yet when dealing with persons whom the church has hurt, there’s an inherent lack of introspection. Abuse produces deep and lasting trauma that makes it difficult for victims to recognize and maintain boundaries, even when clearly articulated. Thus, there are times when all we can do is hold the line, even if it means telling a church victim that we’re going no-contact.

And to be clear: There are no spiritual directors in Stan Land. Yes, we form relationships with people who offer us support, but it’s not like we can show up at the local discernment blogger pastoral care center, tell folks about our bad week, then go from there.

In other words, folks in this space gotta have one hell of a spine to survive.

What about repentance?

In the ten years we’ve been publishing, we’ve had a few victims of church abuse from whom we’ve had to walk away try to apologize. That’s both good and bad, and here’s why.

On the one hand, apologizing for one’s errors is at the heart of the Christian faith. And when someone says they’d like to apologize, we usually see it as a case of having already done so. After all, they are trying to do the right thing, and they’ve made an effort. That’s the good side of things.

At the same time, the people most willing to cross boundaries are typically hard-wired to keep at it. So, we usually accept the apology without engaging in any further discussion. That’s the bad side of things—the fact that it’s rarely possible to re-engage and do so on healthy terms.

Per the old saying, “Once bitten, twice shy.”

That’s not to say that we won’t run into exceptions sooner or later. But by and large, once someone tries to step into the role of third-party editor, it’s a clear sign it’s time to cut our losses.

For the record

Before we end this post, a quick reminder to all: Anglican Watch is a non-profit. We make no money from doing this. Nor do we make money based on who visits or doesn’t visit.

We mention that because we’ve heard people in several dioceses say, “Well, I don’t want to forward that post, because I don’t want them to make money.” But the reality is the number of visitors only affects us in terms of how big a server we need—the more visitors we get, the more costly it is to run Anglican Watch.

A small but important bit of context.

At the end of the day

At the end of the day, Anglican Watch and our sister publications will always do our best to call things as we see them. We will also consistently do our best to support victims.

That said, publishing about the sins of the church is, like much of life, an imperfect endeavor. As a result, sometimes there’s only so much we can do before we have to move on to the next story.

The good news, though, is that we are starting to see some positive changes in the Episcopal Church. Will this be a case of too little, too late? We’re afraid that may be the case, especially given the denomination’s toxic, organizationally narcissistic culture and the famously narcissistic nature of Episcopal clergy.

That said, all we can do is keep publishing.  And, to be fair, we’ve made some life-long friends from this ministry, despite the many potholes along the way.