The Training of the Journalist

IN the days when men ‘drifted into journalism’ nothing was heard of any special schools for the education of the journalist. You do not need lessons in navigation in order to go with the current. But its recognition as a distinct profession has now given journalism a right to a chapter by itself in books on ‘What To Do With Our Boys,’ and there are young men in college who of malice prepense are intending to adopt it as a life-career. Newspaper-writing, like acting, has thrown off much of its ancient Bohemianism and become respectable. The journalist is still a step ahead of the actor, for in England the stage knighthoods are eclipsed by the peerages of Lord Northcliffe and the late Lord Glenesk, and no American has been translated from the boards of a theatre to a foreign embassy. Apart from its financial and social prizes, the press nowadays offers irresistible attractions to many young men whose temperament makes the exercise of influence over the multitude the most desirable form of ambition.

It is not surprising, then, that the question should be asked: If the older professions, such as law and medicine, train their novices in special schools, why should not this new profession provide its recruits with opportunities of technical preparation?

The analogy of the older professions is not, however, as cogent as it might appear at first sight. We may be justified in using the word ‘ profession ’ of what was formerly known as a ‘pursuit,’ but the change of name does not of itself make the occupation of journalism quite parallel with law and medicine. That there is an important difference is clear from the fact that, while a man may still drift into journalism without being a quack, it is impossible so to drift into these other professions. A candidate for one of them has to spend years in mastering a multitude of facts quite outside the range of a liberal education, and also, especially in surgery, in the acquisition of a skill that is purely technical. But there is no such body of special knowledge to be assimilated by a journalist before he can be permitted to begin to practice. There is, indeed, no other kind of intellectual work in which the necessary technique is so little in amount. To be assured of this, we have only to glance over the shelves of text-books that compose the professional library of the young physician or lawyer or clergyman, and then consider what can be set over against all this as representing the special studies of the journalist.

An analysis of the esoteric qualifications of the newspaper writer yields little result. A few mechanical details have to be learned,—as to the revision of proofs, the use of various sizes of type, etc., — but these may be ascertained by a few hours’ reading of any guide for literary beginners, and may be fixed in the memory by a few weeks’ experience. The occupant of a regular position on a newspaper staff has further to acquaint himself with the custom of his own office in such matters as paragraphing, and the use of capitals, italics, and quotation marks; but as the practice in these respects varies in different printing-offices, there is no stable substance for special tuition here. If the recruit decides to qualify himself for verbatim reporting, he will of course need to devote a good deal of time to shorthand, an accomplishment which may be gained at any ordinary commercial school. As to its importance for newspaper work in general, journalists are not agreed.

Where, then, is the need or room for a special school of journalism? The function of such a school can scarcely be anything else than that of supplying the lack of general education from which those young men suffer who have been unfortunate enough to spend their school and college period in institutions of a low standard.

That this is so is shown by some of the arguments used in favor of a special preparation for journalists. Not many years ago a distinguished English editor, Dr. Robertson Nicoll, in supporting the establishment of an endowment for this purpose in London, pleaded that a school for journalism would teach its pupils to write paragraphs well; it would train them to put their points in a clear way, and not encumber their work by technicalities and irrelevancies. But what has the lad’s English teacher been doing all the time, if this is yet to learn? When Dr. Nicoll went on to speak of accuracy as the first quality required by a journalist, and to say that ‘most people when turned out from school are habitually inaccurate,’ he showed still more plainly that what is wanted is not the establishment of technical schools, but an improvement in the quality of general education. A critic would reply to this argument, so Dr. Nicoll suggested, by alleging that these things must indeed be learned, but can be best learned in the office. Not so; the true answer is that these things must be learned, but can be best learned in high school or college.

The main preparation, then, for a journalistic career can be obtained in any places of secondary and higher education that live up to their advertisements. What are the main requirements? The candidate must, of course, possess certain natural aptitudes. Unfortunately these cannot always be surely determined until the pupil is a good way on in his teens. He must have that native intelligence which no school can impart, but which some methods of education can undoubtedly impair. There must also be a peculiar alertness to the facts of human life, a quickness and catholicity of mind which would almost justify the maxim that there is nothing dull to the born journalist. In addition, there appears to be especially needed wide and thorough information, ability to observe and reason, and skill in literary expression, together with what may be called the essential intellectual habits, including accuracy and freedom from prejudice.

If this is a fair account of the needs of the journalist, it is evident that his purpose will best be served by just such an equipment as would most be desired by a student who aimed simply at a liberal culture. On the side of knowledge, nothing comes amiss to a newspaper writer, though it would perhaps be wise to pay special attention to modern languages, modern history, and economics. Natural science, particularly laboratory and field-work, should cultivate the power of observation. Logic and the allied studies supply the best stimulus to thought as well as the best training in method. The study of the English literature and language, with practice in essay-writing, suggests itself as most likely to communicate the power of idiomatic expression, but equal stress should be laid on the study of Greek and Latin — or at least one of these languages — with constant practice in translation. It is not possible in translation, as in essay-writing, to shirk the choice of the fitting word or phrase. Translation from the classics is sometimes condemned as injurious to English style, but it can be so only where the instructor is incompetent, for no teacher worth his salt will suffer a pupil to present to him versions which lazily retain the alien constructions of the original instead of transmuting them into the characteristic speech of the mother tongue.

Whatever the particular curriculum followed, it is essential that the education given be of a disciplinary quality. It must quicken the intellectual conscience to the point of disgust with all scamped work, and of readiness to take pains in securing the exactness of a date or a quotation; it must strengthen the nerves of the mind to grapple with subjects that are not superficially attractive.

Other things being equal, the more thoroughly a young man prepares himself by an education along these lines the wider will be his range as a writer for the press. He will have an easier grasp of the everyday work of journalism, and at the same time will be competent to deal with topics that are beyond the reach of the average newspaper man.

A striking proof of what can be done by the scholar in journalism was given by the career — unhappily cut short by fever during the siege of Ladysmith — of Mr. G. W. Steevens, who went on the daily press after winning several high distinctions in classics at Oxford. In his accounts of the Diamond Jubilee procession, of the Dreyfus court-martial, and of the bivouac at Elandslaagte, he beat the descriptive reporter on his own ground, while he could deal adequately with literary and philosophical subjects which the mere reporter could not even approach. His skill in the craft of the special correspondent so impressed itself upon his contemporaries, that a London literary weekly, commenting on the lack of any notable descriptions of the coronation of the present King, remarked that ‘the absence from among us of the late G. W. Steevens was severely felt.’ For an earlier example one may turn to Taine’s Notes on England, some chapters of which contain writing which would have won the author high eulogies for his ‘ reportorial ’ talent from the most exigent of American city editors.

Further, the man who comes to his task equipped with a liberal education is likely to regard the work itself with greater freedom from convention and less respect for precedent. Many of the chief successes in modern journalism have been won by men who have defied tradition and have struck out in an entirely opposite direction from what had come to be regarded as the only safe course. In any profession such originality is most commonly found in men who have cultivated breadth of view. A student of pedagogy, for example, whose special studies have not been based on a good general education is likely to become narrowed by his work at the normal college. What he is told about educational methods is accepted by him as a code of inflexible rules, instead of as principles that are to be applied in various forms according to circumstances. We thus come across kindergarten instruction that faithfully carries out a certain mechanical syllabus, but has almost forgotten Froebel’s fundamental truth that the child’s mind is to be treated as a garden. In the same way a journalist may easily sink into a rut unless his outlook has been widened by a training that gives him a feeling of proportion and makes him sensitive to fresh impressions.

It is not until this foundation has been laid that the novice need pay attention to studies that will differentiate him from his fellows who are entering other professions. He may now specialize in two directions. On the one hand, he may carry to a higher stage those college studies which most appeal to him, in order that he may be able to write about them with the authority of an expert. There is a growing demand for writers who are competent to deal with the affairs of some particular department, such as art, or economics, or foreign politics. On the other hand, he must diverge from the general path by making himself acquainted with the minutiœ of the actual practice of the profession, partly by reading books about journalism — not forgetting the best biographies and autobiographies of journalists — and partly by observing the methods of a competent practitioner and working under his guidance. This clinical course will be most fruitful when the student has prepared himself for it by careful preliminary reading and thinking.

Whatever may be the future development of journalistic education, one thing is certain — journalism will never become a close profession. Courses of study may be organized whose certificates and diplomas will come to be accepted by editors as prima facie evidence of aptitude for certain kinds of newspaper work. But no trade-union will ever prevent an editor from printing matter that suits him, whether the contributor is a Bachelor of Journalism or not. Whatever privileges journalistic or other graduates may attempt to secure, a memorable utterance of Mr. J. Noble Simms, that delightful character in Mr. Barrie’s When a Man ’s Single, will long remain true. The calling of a writer for the press will still be open to everybody who has access to pen, ink, and paper, with a little strawberry jam to fasten the pages of manuscript together.