I recently got into a somewhat public dispute with two former colleagues over my newspaper’s coverage of a certain issue. They claimed we had failed to cover it when, as I demonstrated in a prior blog post, we had written at least 30 stories about it over the past decade.

One of those former colleagues, Citybeat media critic Ben L. Kaufman, conceded that point in his most recent column — but then blamed the newspaper’s online archive:

I faulted The Enquirer’s watch-dog efforts when it came to Cincinnati’s Empowerment Zone over the past decade, saying it was an example of the paper’s willful blindness when it comes to screwed-up public funding of black-run organizations. Mutual friends told me that former colleague Greg Korte demonstrated in his Enquirer blog that I was wrong about Empowerment Zone coverage. Stories he listed began in 1999.

OK, I’m glad I was wrong. But it wasn’t because I didn’t look. I relied on the Enquirer online archive. Korte, a skilled reporter on computer-based data, might have archive access that I don’t. I tried again today. First, few of the stories he cited came up. Most or all were recent. On repeated attempts, either I couldn’t find the server or lots of stories appeared.

He’s right about the online archives — it’s by no means a comprehensive index of newspaper stories. Many stories in the newspaper never make it online for whatever reason, and most of those that do expire after 30 days. (No one in the newsroom relies on it for research. We use an internal database or, quite often, Nexis.)

To be sure, our archives ought to be more user-friendly. We shouldn’t be morally obligated to give away all our archival content for free, but a search of our archives ought to at least bring up the headlines.

But the episode is also a prime example of what I call the “Google fallacy” – a misconception based on the incorrect reasoning that all knowledge is freely available — just a click away — on the Internet.

In a way, it’s even more insidious than the Wikipedia fallacy — that all knowledge found on the Internet is reliable. At least Wikipedia is a start. But you don’t know what you don’t know, and if you can’t find it on Google, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Repeat after me: Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.

Of course, I’d be lying if I pretended I’ve never fallen into this trap myself.

The first time I remember running into the Google fallacy was actually pre-Google, in 1997, when I was working for a small daily paper on Lake Erie. The editor had heard talk that there was talk on Pelee Island of secession from Canada. I did a search of web sites and usenet groups and came up with nothing. “I don’t care if Korte can’t find anything on the world wide (expletive) universal web net!” he shouted at the city editor loud enough for me to hear. “Tell him to get off his ass and go to Pelee Island.”

He was right. It was a front page story. (Though you still can’t find it on Google.)

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The St. Anthony Messenger has a story this month about one of Cincinnati’s most unique and enduring Catholic traditions: the praying of the steps at Holy Cross-Immaculata Church.

Susan Hines-Brigger gives a good account of the origins of the church and the tradition, which began 150 Good Fridays ago:

Credit for the tradition rests solely on the shoulders of Cincinnati’s first archbishop, John J. Purcell. He built the Church of the Immaculata to fulfill a promise he had made to the Virgin Mary while sailing back from Rome. The ship encountered a terrible storm at sea and the archbishop promised that, if he survived, he would build a church to honor Mary in Mt. Adams, Cincinnati’s highest hill, which overlooks the city from the east.

He did survive, and in 1859, Archbishop Purcell stayed true to his word and laid the cornerstone for the church. He purchased the land, donated the stone and personally supervised construction of the church from start to finish. Some reports say he gave $10,000 of his own money to fund the project.

But my favorite footnote to that story, which I stumbled across years ago while looking at the microfilmed archives of the Catholic Telegraph, begins 16 years prior with the sixth president of the United States, John Quincy Adams. (To whom Mount Adams owes its name.)

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My problem with media criticism

March 7, 2010

The cynical definition of a critic is “one who knows the way but can’t drive the car.” Generally speaking, critics of the arts are better at criticism than they are at the endeavor they’re criticizing. Otherwise, they’d be artists and not critics.
But media criticism is a unique undertaking. Critical writing about journalism is itself an [...]

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Why I delve for data

February 23, 2010

Michelle Minkoff, a graduate student at the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern, has been doing a series of profiles of some of the smartest database reporters and newsroom developers around: People like Matt Waite, Chase Davis, David Donald, Maurice Tamman and Mary Jo Webster. She calls them “data delvers.”
How the heck she came up with [...]

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Election 2009 result maps

November 11, 2009

Here, all in one place, are links to all the popular precinct maps that ran with various stories in The Cincinnati Enquirer after the November 3, 2009 general election:

Cincinnati Mayor: Mark Mallory (D) v. Brad Wenstrup (R)
Cincinnati City Council: First-place finishers by ward
Cincinnati Board of Education: Vanessa White (C) electoral strength and Charter-Democratic ticket comparison
Ohio [...]

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Why I built my own short URL site

(and maybe you should, too)

July 29, 2009

There’s nothing wrong with TinyURL.com, the url-shortening service that started in 2002 to help tame unwieldy links and has become indispensable in the age of Twitter.
It’s just that, well, (1) everybody uses it — or a clone like bit.ly or snurl.com or snipurl.com — so it’s a bit impersonal, (2) there’s no guarantee it will [...]

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