In most of our country’s major institutions, we have little tolerance for cheating and lying. Whether it’s the court system, schools, businesses, even our sports teams, we impose stiff sanctions against those who deceive us to gain some advantage.
If convicted of lying on the witness stand, you’ll pay a fine and possibly wind up in jail. If caught cheating on a test, you’ll probably fail the course or worse. At the University of Virginia, a breach of the school’s honor code “has but a single penalty: immediate expulsion from the university.”
In 2009, Bank of America agreed to pay a $33 million fine after the SEC accused it of lying. Just last month, a federal judge ordered that same bank to pay a $1.27 billion fine after a jury found it liable for bad loans that were part of a “fraudulent and reckless” mortgage-lending program.
Some of our most famous athletes have been stripped of their medals and banned for life from participating on sports teams for doping and lying about it.
Our religions condemn such deception. In Proverbs we are told that “a lying tongue” and “a false witness who pours out lies” are among the seven things that the Lord hates and considers detestable.
Yet there is one arena in which misleading the public not only is abided but is the norm: politics. In fact, much of what constitutes political discourse in this country is now built on a foundation of dishonesty. One of the most effective—and perfectly legal—ways to win votes and influence public policy these days is to pour millions of dollars into deception-based campaigns designed to manipulate public opinion.
The most recent evidence: a National Journal article about a new tactic used by the National Republican Congressional Committee to attack Democratic candidates. Earlier this year, the NRCC created several fake Democratic candidate websites. The organization’s latest effort is a brand new set of deceptive websites, this time designed to look like local news sources.
The NRCC has created about two dozen “faux news sites,” the National Journalreported, all of which feature articles that “begin in the impartial voice of a political fact-checking site, hoping to lure in readers.” After a few such paragraphs, the articles “gradually morph into more biting language.”
What in the heck is going on with the police in Ferguson, Mo., and journalists?
The St. Louis suburb has been the scene of peaceful protests and charged emotions, and nightly chaos and rampant looting, following the Aug. 9 shooting death of a black teenager, Michael Brown, by Ferguson Officer Darren Wilson.
In the confusion and violence of the first nights of violence, journalists first reported being ordered away from where rioting occurred or barred from entering the city. A St. Louis Post-Dispatch photojournalist who had been assaulted Sunday night by a looter sought refuge in a police line — only to be asked later by an officer “why are you here?” taken into custody and transported to a police station.
On Wednesday night, incidents involving journalists involved tear gas and arrests:
A KSDK TV crew reported that seconds after filming police tussling with a man, their video camera was hit by a “bean-bag round,” the type of non-lethal weapon police were reported to be using to break up demonstrations. The crew later was approached by police with drawn weapons and ordered to leave the area.
A tear gas canister was fired at an Al Jazeera America TV crew, which had set up a camera on a sidewalk outside an established police perimeter. As the journalists fled the gas, armed officers were videotaped tilting the crew’s camera toward the ground.
Wesley Lowery, a reporter for The Washington Post, and Ryan Reilly of The Huffington Post were detained and led away by armor-clad police carrying assault weapons who ordered journalists to leave a McDonald’s where news media were working and recharging equipment. Both were later released without explanation, with one report saying their release came after the city police chief was asked by The Los Angeles Times about the arrests. At a midday news conference Thursday, Ferguson Chief of Police Jon Belmar said, in response to questions about the various incidents, “The media is not a target.”
But David Boardman, president of the American Society of News Editors, said just hours earlier in a posted statement that “from the beginning of this situation, the police have made conscious decisions to restrict information and images coming from Ferguson. Of course, these efforts largely have been unsuccessful, as the nation and the world are still seeing for themselves the heinous actions of the police. For every reporter they arrest, every image they block, every citizen they censor, another will still write, photograph and speak.”
Reilly said the scene during his arrest Wednesday was “madness.” In an account posted by Politico, he said he “was not moving quickly enough for their liking. . . . I was told I had 45 seconds, 30 seconds, pack up all my stuff and leave, at which point the officer in question . . . held me back, grabbed my things and shoved them into my bag.” After being handcuffed, Reilly said, “The worst part was he slammed my head against the glass purposely on the way out of the McDonald’s then sarcastically apologized for it.”
Martin D. Baron, executive editor of The Washington Post, said “there was absolutely no justification for Lowery’s arrest” and that the organization “was appalled by the conduct of the officers involved.” Baron said that Lowery “was illegally instructed to stop taking video of officers (and) … after contradictory instructions on how to exit, he was slammed against a soda machine and then handcuffed.” Baron said police behavior was “wholly unwarranted and an assault on the freedom of the press to cover the news.”
On Twitter, Lowery wrote, “Apparently, in America, in 2014, police can manhandle you, take you into custody, put you in cell & then open the door like it didn’t happen.”
No, the government may not do that — to journalists or any other citizen, all of whom enjoy the rights guaranteed by the First Amendment. The nation’s founders provided constitutional protection for a free press precisely to keep authorities from figuratively or literally manhandling or muzzling what they intended to be a “watchdog on government.”
To effectively fulfill that watchdog role, journalists must be able to see and report to their fellow citizens what government is doing — whether that is a grand jury investigation into Brown’s death or how police are responding to what clearly is, at times, lawless behavior in the streets of Ferguson.
Local citizens and the nation need to know, from a variety of sources, what is happening in this strife-torn city, and to be sure no stone is left unturned in investigating how Brown came to be shot. And press conferences and official statements alone are not enough to overcome the distrust over yet another shooting of a black teen by a police officer.
Freedom to report the news necessarily means the freedom to gather it, whether a journalist for mainstream media or a citizen using a cellphone camera.
Police and others in Ferguson anxious about those reporting on their activities should know that “no news” is not “good news” — for them or anyone else in their city or in America.
Gene Policinski is vice president and executive director of the Washington-based First Amendment Center.
Robin Williams, a comic and sitcom star in the 1970s who became an Oscar-winning dramatic actor, died Monday at 63 in Marin County. The Marin County Sheriff's Office said he appears to have committed suicide.
The news of the beloved actor’s death rocked the nation. Channels broke into their usual programming to make the announcement, and within minutes, Williams dominated online trending topics. Even President Obama noted his passing.
Williams, hailed as a comic genius, was a star of movies and television for more than three decades. He also suffered from substance abuse problems.
The actor "has been battling severe depression of late," his publicist Mara Buxbaum said. "This is a tragic and sudden loss. The family respectfully asks for their privacy as they grieve during this very difficult time."
Williams was found unresponsive at his home in Tiburon around noon Monday, sheriff’s officials said. He was pronounced dead at the scene.
Dubbed “the funniest man alive” by Entertainment Weekly in 1997, Williams brought audiences hours of laughter, putting his imaginative spin on characters in film and television. He was lauded for his serious roles as well, winning a best supporting actor Oscar for his performance as Sean Maguire, the therapist who counsels Matt Damon’s math genius in “Good Will Hunting” (1997). He also received nominations for “The Fisher King” (1991), “Dead Poets Society” (1989) and “Good Morning, Vietnam” (1987).
Williams was known for being open about his problems with cocaine and alcohol over the years.
The actor spent time on a Hazelden campus in Oregon in 2006. He later explained that drinking had gradually become a problem again after 20 years of sobriety.
"You're standing at a precipice and you look down, there's a voice and it's a little quiet voice that goes, 'Jump,'" the "Mrs. Doubtfire" star told ABC News in October of that year. "The same voice that goes, 'Just one.' … And the idea of just one for someone who has no tolerance for it, that's not the possibility."
Born in Chicago in 1951, Williams was accepted into John Houseman’s prestigious acting program at Juilliard along with Christopher Reeve, who became a lifelong friend.
Williams came to Hollywood prominence in the late 1970s with his starring role in “Mork & Mindy,” a spin-off of the then-popular “Happy Days.” Williams played an alien baffled by the ways of Earth, the comedy often resulting from the contrast between how he viewed the world and how the world really worked.
After the show went off the air in 1982, Williams’ reputation for rapid-fire impersonations — not to mention a seemingly bottomless talent for comic improvisation — landed him a number of high-profile stand-up specials as well as numerous film roles. In “Good Morning Vietnam” he played a deejay who ruffled feathers with his truth-spewing, quip-cracking ways.
Although now common, the tear-up-the-script style of improvisation practiced by Williams was unusual in major Hollywood productions, and the actor seemed able to rewrite the rules by sheer force of personality — or, as was frequently the cases where Williams was concerned, personalities. That talent also landed him a gig co-hosting the Oscars in 1986, a turn that further cemented his A-list status.
Williams’ protean comedic skills reached perhaps their apex in “Mrs. Doubtfire” (1993), a cross-dressing comedy in which he played both a crusty older nanny and the divorced father who takes on the character to be closer to his children.
A melancholy current ran under Williams’ dramatic roles. He played an unconventional teacher in “Dead Poets Society," a doctor who tended to the mentally troubled in “Awakenings" (1990), a disturbed vagabond in “The Fisher King” and a widowed psychologist in “Good Will Hunting." That last role — in which he famously counseled a hotshot Damon while grappling with his own demons — landed him his first Oscar win.
Further demonstrating his persona-stretching skills, Williams also had well-regarded parts playing presidents — as Dwight Eisenhower in last summer’s hit “Lee Daniels’ The Butler” and as Teddy Roosevelt in the comic franchise “Night At the Museum,” the latter of which he will reprise for the final time when the Ben Stiller film hits theaters this holiday season.
At one point during his career, Williams had to fight to be seen by the public as something more than just a funny guy.
"It's hard because people want to know you're a certain thing," he told The Times in 1991. "They still say, 'That's the little manic guy. He's the little adrenaline guy. Oh, yeah, he touches himself. He doesn't do that anymore. But wait a minute. He's the little manic guy who played the really quiet guy and then the really scary guy. Oh, no, wait....' "
Williams' talent for ad-libbing functioned as a gift and a shield.
"He was always in character — you never saw the real Robin," said Jamie Masada, founder and chief executive of the Laugh Factory. "I knew him 35 years, and I never knew him."
"He was a wonderful guy," Masada added. "I remember John [Belushi] and Robin, both of them always complained to me — no matter where they were people would recognize them. They sold their privacy to the public. They could be in the middle of talking in the street and someone would come up for an autograph.... he [Robin] didn't realize how much he sold his privacy to people."
The sign on the Laugh Factory Monday night in Hollywood read “Robin Williams Rest in Peace. Make God Laugh.” A group of mostly comedians milled about in front of the Comedy Store shortly after the news broke and the marquee there read “RIP Robin Williams.”
The U.S. president issued a statement about Williams' passing. "Robin Williams was an airman, a doctor, a genie, a nanny, a president, a professor, a bangarang Peter Pan and everything in between," Obama said. "But he was one of a kind. He arrived in our lives as an alien — but he ended up touching every element of the human spirit. He made us laugh. He made us cry. He gave his immeasurable talent freely and generously to those who needed it most — from our troops stationed abroad to the marginalized on our own streets."
“We have lost one of our most inspired and gifted comic minds, as well as one of this generation’s greatest actors,” said Chris Columbus, who directed Williams in “Mrs. Doubtfire,” and was scheduled to work with him again on “Mrs. Doubtfire 2,” a sequel recently set in motion.
“To watch Robin work was a magical and special privilege,” Columbus said. “His performances were unlike anything any of us had ever seen, they came from some spiritual and otherworldly place.... We were friends for 21 years. Our children grew up together, he inspired us to spend our lives in San Francisco and I loved him like a brother.”
Williams' dramatic turn as the fast-talking genie in the 1992 Disney animated movie “Aladdin” also stood apart, recalled Jeffrey Katzenberg, chief executive of DreamWorks Animation and former chairman of Walt Disney Studios.
“His was truly one of the most brilliant and singular performances in the history of animation,” said Katzenberg, who worked closely with Williams on the hit movie that helped revive Disney’s storied animation studio. “'Aladdin' would not be the classic movie it is without his brilliance.”
At Williams' home on a quiet street that backs onto stunning views of San Francisco Bay, neighbors and strangers began arriving Monday evening to lay flowers at the gate and share remembrances.
Neighbor Kelly Cook, 50, called him "brilliant" as well as "really quiet and private." The upscale neighborhood respected that privacy, and Williams always greeted neighbors with a wave, she said.
An avid cyclist, he was often seen riding the winding Paradise Loop.
Cook's children called him "the funny man" and would greet him as such when he was out walking his pug. He joked easily with them, Cook said, "because they were kids."
Cook's voice cracked Monday as she walked toward Williams' home carrying bright orange gerbera daisies, chosen because "I thought the color would be uplifting."
"It's just so sad when depression takes someone like that," she said.
Megan Thorpe, 25, of Mill Valley brought three red roses.
The nanny had worked all night Sunday and was sleeping when the texts about Williams’ death started pouring in. Thorpe said she fell in love with Williams watching "Aladdin." When she moved to the Bay Area a year ago, one of the first things she did was pay a visit to the "Doubtfire house." She knew she had to pay her respects Monday.
Some celebrities turned to Twitter to mourn him.
"I could not be more stunned by the loss of Robin Williams, mensch, great talent, acting partner, genuine soul," fellow actor-comedian Steve Martin said on Twitter.
"Robin Williams was like no other," actor and director Henry Winkler said. "To watch him create on the spot was a privilege to behold.. Robin you are an angel now !!! REST IN PEACE"
The Marin County Sheriff’s Office is scheduled to hold a news conference on the death investigation at 11 a.m. Tuesday.
Williams is survived by his wife, Susan Schneider; brother McLaurin Smith Williams; children Zachary Williams, Cody Williams and Zelda Rae Williams; and stepsons Casey Armusewicz and Peter Armusewicz.
Times staff writer Lee Romney in Marin County and staff writer Joe Bel Bruno in Hollywood contributed to this report.