By Bob Gaydos

Image from Storybench, Northeastern University School of Journalism

  That was fast. A while back, I wrote a column about how AI was coming to take my job and the jobs of maybe millions of other people lovingly referred to as “knowledge workers” by the CEOs of the companies who are rushing to make it happen.

     Well, it happened, in of all places, Wyoming.

      A reporter, new to the trade and no longer with the paper, admitted to using artificial intelligence to create quotes, even whole stories, for the Cody Enterprise, a newspaper founded by Buffalo Bill Cody, who needed no genius computer to create his legendary story.

      The phony reporter was busted by a veteran reporter for a competing newspaper, the Powell Tribune, who said he started asking around when he noted some of the phrases in the other guy’s stories seemed to be a bit off, or robotic. Bad writing.

       No surprise there. YouTube is replete with documentaries and special reports full of inappropriate or outdated or trite, slightly off phrasing narrated by “people” who mispronounce basic words. 

       At such times, I can be heard complaining agitatedly, “AI!”

       Also, preaching: “Everybody needs an editor.”

       It’s my favorite response and basic rule for any writer. But the YouTube videos go on, their producers seemingly unaware or unconcerned with the amateurish product they’re presenting. Artificial mediocrity suffices, probably because it draws an audience and it’s cheaper than employing the real thing. People.

         Which brings me back to Wyoming. Things were different in Wyoming. The governor and other people were saying they never said what the newspaper said they said, although they admitted it sounded like something they might have said.

          Classic AI. Scan the past and take a plausible shot at recreating it in the present. Chatbots always aim to please.

          But unlike YouTube shows, newspapers can get into trouble making stuff up, with or without AI. The publisher of The Enterprise said AI is “the new, advanced form of plagiarism and in the field of media and writing, plagiarism is something every media outlet has had to correct at some point or another.”

           She said the paper now has a policy in place to recognize AI-generated stories. That’s good. With no official controls on this new, still-developing technology, all news media should have a policy on the proper and improper use of artificial intelligence and make it known to the public as well as their staff.

           The editor of the Enterprise, Chris Bacon, said, “The Enterprise didn’t have an AI policy because it seemed obvious that journalists shouldn’t use it to write stories.”

          Yeah, one would think, right? But these are different times. Times of stolen user names, online dating scams, spam emails. Progress. While the recognized practice in journalism always has been not to steal other people’s writing and not to make stuff up, some have tried and some have been caught. Newspapers have been sued. But AI apparently makes it harder to spot, especially for less-experienced eyes.

        The AP says Bacon is “a military veteran and former air ambulance pilot who was named editor in May after a few months working as a reporter.” Swift promotion. 

        He said he “failed to catch” the AI copy and false quotes and apologized that “AI was allowed to put words that were never spoken” into stories in his newspaper. At least seven stories, seven people falsely quoted.

      I don’t know. Apparently one AI-generated story about a shooting in Yellowstone National Park included this sentence: “This incident serves as a stark reminder of the unpredictable nature of human behavior, even in the most serene settings.”

       In nearly half a century working in newspapers, I can’t recall a more unlikely sentence in a news story to have been allowed to pass unquestioned by a copy editor. No way Moe or Dennis or Linda or Tim lets me get away with that hackneyed life lesson without at least a, “Hey, Bob …” 

       Maybe my basic rule for writers needs to be modified: Everybody needs a really fussy human editor. 

rjgaydos@gmail.com

Fernando Tatis, rule breaker.

By Bob Gaydos

  Life is full of unwritten rules. Please and thank you. Don’t interrupt. Don’t double dip. Flush the toilet. But is it really a rule if it’s not written down? And is it really a rule if sometimes it’s OK to break it? Is it a rule, say, if your young slugger hits a home run on a 3-0 pitch to put the game on ice?

The big controversy of the week, refreshingly, involved baseball. Welcome back, boys of summer.

      The young slugger is Fernando Tatis Jr., who plays for the San Diego Padres. Tatis says he never heard of this rule we’re about to talk about. Sounds like another unwritten rule: When in doubt, plead ignorance.

       Some baseball purists, as well as the pitcher, manager and other players on the opposing team, think that Tatis broke one of the sport’s long-standing unwritten rules. That is, when you’re at bat and the count is three balls and no strikes, you do not swing at the next pitch. It’s thought to be even more of a rule when your team is winning by a significant margin, lest you be accused of rubbing it in. (I am explaining this in a little bit of detail for those readers who may not be baseball fans.)

      The Padres were leading the Texas Rangers by seven runs in the eighth inning when Tatis came to bat with the bases-loaded. He had already hit a homerun in the game. The Texas pitcher, who shall go nameless here to spare him further embarrassment, was shaky and threw three straight balls to Tatis. If Tatis followed the unwritten rule, he would not swing at the next pitch on the odds that it would be ball four, he would walk to first base and the runner from third would score. If it was a strike, he would be free to swing at any succeeding pitches.

      But young Fernando gets paid good money to hit home runs and drive in runs, so he swung. The ball soared out of the park for a grand slam homerun and instead of one man walking in with a run, four Padres crossed the plate. Instantly, San Diego was up by 11 runs instead of seven runs.

      The Rangers, who eventually lost 14 to 4, complained more about that swing on the 3-0 pitch the next day than how they were embarrassed by the shellacking they had just taken. But a lot of other major league players and managers who were interviewed, including a number of pitchers, said the responsibility is on the pitcher to make a good pitch in that situation and not look for an easy strike expecting that the batter won’t swing. After all, in baseball, as well as other endeavors in life, the idea is to win the game and the more runs you have the more likely you will win. Also, baseball today is different from baseball a generation or two ago. Teams all have young sluggers and score runs in bunches today and seemingly safe leads are no longer safe.

       So I’m with Tatis on this one. I am not a fan of rubbing it in, but even Little League doesn’t say the game is over until one team is ahead by 10 runs. What’s more, it turns out I’m consistent. My Facebook memories the other day included this serendipitous post: “I called the green light for Astros’ Carter on 3-0 pitch. You have to know he’s swinging. Boom! 3-run shot and Yankees lose. It’s not a complicated game.” Aug. 19, 2014. Another slugger in a situation just crying for him to swing at the three and oh.

      By the way … if you want to use politics as a metaphor for life, the Republican Party seems to have come up with an unwritten rule: Do not ever publicly speak ill of the leader. In nearly four years of the Trump Administration, four years of lying, incompetence, race-baiting, dismantling of government safeguards, disregard of the Constitution and all-around ignorance of presidential duties, I have yet to hear one local elected official publicly say a negative word about the party leader. Never mind Congress members; they fear for their “careers.” I’m talking about locals. Apparently, saying he blew it on Covid would be somehow a bad thing for potential voters to hear, deaths notwithstanding. A sign of independent thought? Forbidden. They are “leaders” without courage. An odd combination. Also by the way … the Democratic Party clearly has no such unwritten rule.

       By the way … when I decided to write about unwritten rules I did what everybody does today – I Googled it. Turns out a lot of people have written about unwritten rules. Or rather, a lot of people appear to have written about unwritten rules. One of the things that is abundantly obvious with just a little research is that what looks to be the best current list of unwritten rules has been repackaged, reheadlined and reimagined dozens of times as someone else’s list of unwritten rules. Reddit appears to be the original source of many lists. It includes such handy advice as:

— Don’t ask for something if the person only has one left — gum, cigarette, piece of cake, etc.

— If you use up all of the toilet paper, you refill it.

— Don’t mess up an apology with an excuse.

— Buy a plunger before you need a plunger.

— When someone shows you a picture on their phone, don’t swipe left or right.

— When the host starts cleaning, the party’s over and you need to go home.

— Let people get off a bus, train, or elevator before you get on.

    There are plenty more and you can Google them yourself, but my internet-driven unwritten rule is one that reporters learn the first day on the job — cite your source. Don’t take credit for someone else’s work. A few sites who repackaged the Reddit list did (Buzzfeed for one), but many did not. That’s just not nice.

       By the way … speaking of “not nice,” not long ago I led a column with someone else’s spoken, but unwritten rules for life: 1. If it’s not yours, don’t take it; 2. If it’s not true, don’t say it; 3. If it’s not right, don’t do it. The rule-maker prefers to remain anonymous, but I like to think I’ve given them more legitimacy by, you know, writing them down.

       And finally, back to baseball, Texas pitcher Ian Gibaut, who relieved the pitcher who gave up Tatis’ grand slam, was suspended for three games and fined by baseball officials. Gibaut, a rookie, came in and immediately threw a fastball behind San Diego’s next batter, Manny Machado, apparently as a warning for the Padres daring to smack Texas pitching around the park. It’s supposedly another baseball unwritten rule — if you embarrass us by showing our ineptitude, we will throw pitches at you. That’s not exactly an example of number three above, doing the right thing. More like, see how petty we can be. There’s another sports (and politics) unwritten rule: Don’t be a sore loser.

       PS: According to AP, before the controversial game, the 21-year-old Tatis was leading the majors with 11 home runs and 28 RBIs. And you groove a pitch to him with the bases loaded? More unwritten rules of life: Don’t assume anything. Always RSVP. Never give Fernando Tatis anything but curve balls.

rjgaydos@gmail.com

Bob Gaydos is writer-in-residence at zestoforange.com.

(A news obit, written & filed to Facebook  on June 25, 2016).

By Jeremiah Horrigan

Jeremiah Horrrigan

A desk. A phone. A computer. A place to hang your hat, or just a place to hang. It doesn’t sound very glamorous. Certainly not romantic. Until it all disappears.

I’m going to a wake tomorrow. Not a wake for a person. A wake for what most people would call an office. Those of us who worked there called it “the bureau.” It was a place where news was discovered, reported and written about. My connection to it ended a little more than a year ago. Everybody else’s connection to it — the list is long — ended on yesterday. After more than 20 years, the Ulster County bureau of the Middletown Times Herald-Record was officially shuttered. Killed off by the usual suspects — greedy owners, inept managers, the internet, the times. Dead and dying newspapers like The Record have such a rich variety of villains to blame for their demise, it hardly seems worth reporting the cause of death, it’s become so mundane.

Over its 20 years, the bureau occupied several offices across the county, all of them bare-bones, usually situated on the cheap side of town. Or even out of town. I’ve been a reporter who worked out of all the county’s bureaus, almost from the day the paper waded into the county. When I worked there, I thought of the bureau, when I thought of it at all, as a place. A place where I went to do my job. That meant sitting at a desk and working the phone and kibitzing with colleagues and writing stories and cursing editors I never saw and officials I saw too often, usually at night in drafty town halls or, less often, at some sweltering murder scene or worst of all, at a cemetery where a solitary bugler played Taps and young men wept bitter tears.

No one’s going to weep at tomorrow’s wake. We’ll drink beer and curse managers who wouldn’t dare set foot on the premises, the owner/ investors who see us as cogs in their money-making machine. We’ll toast each other and praise absent friends. And we’ll tell stories on and about each other and those friends, stories being the point of it all.

And then we’ll all go home. And once there, we’ll be alone with our thoughts and at least one of us will wonder where the time went and he’ll look for comfort in the usual direction he turns to. He’ll look to the past because he’s an old newspaperman and a sentimental fool who knows in his bones there’s no longer a place — a bureau — where what was best about newspapers can ever happen again.

Jeremiah Horrigan is an award-winning newspaper reporter, now retired, who has spent his professional life telling other people’s stories  Over the years, his freelance essays, columns and features have appeared in The New York Times, Sports Illustrated  and the Miami Herald. These days, he tells his story in Salon, Memoir Journal, narratively.com and in several national anthologies, including Woodstock Revisited and Pulse: Voices from the Heart of Medicine. He writes a bylined blog for the Huffington Post and is the author of a memoir, Fortunate Son: A Dying Father, an Angry Son and the War on the Home Front.