This won’t surprise anyone who has taken my classes or anyone who has heard my lectures on journalism ethics. Others should try not to fall out of their seat or hit me. Here it is: I really don’t know if I believe journalistic ethics exist.

While I believe we must teach (and expect) journalists to follow ethical standards, I sometimes wonder if we give ourselves too much credit for actually following those guidelines in reporting and editing. And I wonder if these ethical suggestions actually mean much outside of the classroom.

I will likely write more in the future on my take on journalistic ethics, especially about as they are played out in reporting. Today, though, I focus  on what we call “single-source stories,” and use this as an example of how we cut “ethical” policies that don’t work for us as journalists.

Maybe single-source stories is not defined as an “ethical” decision, but providing more than one source in a story is certainly a standard many journalists obey. They think it reveals a certain level of objectivity to readers: “Look,” reporters say. “I didn’t think this up. People told me.”

Indeed, some outlets mandate a two-source or three-source rule to confirm facts. When I assign stories as a teacher, I often demand at least five sources in a story for context, to confirm information, to add voices.

Here, a blog talks about using more than single sources as what “real journalists” do.

And here is what Reuters says about single sourced stories.

An excerpt:

Stories based on a single, anonymous source should be the exception and require approval by an immediate supervisor – a bureau chief, head of reporting unit in a large centre, or editor in charge. The supervisor must satisfy himself or herself that the source is authoritative. Supervisors may pre-delegate approval to experienced senior correspondents working with authoritative sources to ensure we remain competitive on timings.

Factors to be taken into account include the source’s track record and the reporter’s track record. The supervisor may decide to hold the story for further checks if the sourcing is unsatisfactory. For a single source story, the informant must be an actual policymaker or participant involved in the action or negotiation with first-hand knowledge, or an official representative or spokesperson speaking on background. Such information should be subject to particular scrutiny to ensure we are not being manipulated.

The supervisor’s approval should be noted on the outgoing copy (in the “edited by” sign-off) so that editing desks and editors in charge have confidence that a senior journalist in a position of authority has authorised the story. If desks still have doubts, they should contact the supervisor concerned.

So if having multiple sources is such an important standard, then where, oh, where, would journalists ever use single sources for stories?

Police briefs.

– Here is a Press Citizen story about a woman who allegedly spit on an officer and did some other naughty things. One source.

– A Miami Herald story tells of a TSA agent who allegedly stole stuff. One source.

– From my parent’s town in Wisconsin, a story about a stabbing. One source.

Wanna guess the source in each of these stories?

Yep. Cops.

In some cases, the stories mention actual law enforcement officers that we are left to assume journalists spoke to. I don’t even know if that’s the case, because if I know the public information officer who released the information, I may say it came from her. (Though usually, we would say the person released the information in a report).

And, true, some of this information may have come from a second source, one other than a single police officer, but that source is likely a police report. That’s where we get the quotes of what the accused told police. That’s where we get the “juicy” description from officers at the scene of a crime.

Still, seems like a single-source story to me.

So why is this?

Why do we toss out the single-source rule for police briefs, which tend to influence one’s perception of guilt or innocence, perceptions of neighborhoods and races, genders and economic classes? Why do we demand multiple sources on stories about kids who ace the ACT, a story about rising house prices, and someone who built something weird for angels in a church, or something?

The biggest answer is that we trust law enforcement to tell us the truth. Lots has been written on journalistic sourcing (see this new book) and the connection that newsworkers have with law enforcement and other public officials. It is easier for readers to understand the position of a cop than “regular people.” Police are supposed to protect us. They have a cultural authority that other eye-witnesses don’t. Readers are supposed to know the position of the police.

Another answer is that it is, truthfully, hard to get to people who are in jail (though not impossible) and to tell the story from anything other than the one source who was there during an alleged crime. Often times, police officers are the ones with that information and perspective.

Third, news briefs are meant to fill space and to give “quick hit” news coverage on topics that are “of interest,” but that do not warrant full stories.

But let’s return to the cultural meaning of single-source stories, especially in news briefs.

Briefs represent time constraints. They are short. Sweet. The information is emailed to us, on a police website, or easily attainable on a short deadline.

News briefs also can be sexy. In short sentences and 100 words, we can talk about rape, murder, car crashes without getting into the nitty gritty details of history, context, and multiple perspectives of the alleged act.

Branding experts would say news outlets benefit from lots of these “quick hits,” especially if they come with datelines (locations of where the story took place) to show readers where the news was.

So what do we do about this? We live off of news briefs. And they may be the only stories that readers actually read all the way through.

Yet, how do we account for the single-source issue? How do we allow ourselves to take them with any kind of “reality” if they are based on one-person’s view of a situation? And, more importantly, how to reporters distinguish between the times when one-source stories are appropriate and when they are not? Surely, this distinction can’t be made simply based upon the idea that “it’s just a brief.”

Briefs — and their cultural meanings — may provide an interesting topic for further study. What do you think?