The priesthood of the press

The media may replace the church as the "oppressive and arrogant force" it says religion once was, warns Bishop Willie Walsh. Journalists must be more successful at maintaining the value of their stock in the minds of the public they are there to serve, says Conor Brady

Bishop Willie Walsh of Killaoe threw a hard, curving ball at the media recently when he addressed the annual citizenship service at Christ Church Cathedral in Dublin. I don't know Bishop Walsh but one has the impression of a man who is both willing to take criticism of his organisation – and also to dish it out in equal measure. He seems to have a sharp sense of the public mood. He understands the necessity to communicate in terms that can address that mood – rather than the cautious, self-exculpatory language employed down the years by so many of his colleagues and predecessors.

"We in the Roman Catholic Church must surely ask why such evil was allowed to go unchecked for so long?" he said, referring to the abuse revelations from Ferns and elsewhere. Why did men who entered the priesthood with such high ideals, perpetrate such evil acts? Was it because of human weakness, a distorted understanding of sexuality, the rule of celibacy or the virtual absence of women from the church's decision-making processes?

The bishop didn't come up with answers to these questions. But they led him neatly to address the news media, complimenting their role in the creation of a more open and honest society. "In many cases over the past 20 years, courageous journalists have pursued many of us in positions of leadership in search of truth. We have sometimes been evasive and even misleading."

"Evasive and even misleading" would be a serious understatement of the casuistry, concealment, deception and sometimes plain lying that journalists encountered over the years in dealing with some church figures. Not that it was any different, dealing with some political figures, business people and others. But such responses must be especially unpalatable when they come from those who claim the franchise for conducting the business of Jesus Christ on Earth.

But then Bishop Walsh moved adroitly from defensive tactics to skilful, forward play. As a Tipperary man he has seen enough hurling to know that matches do not get won from behind the mid-field line.

"Dare I say to some (journalists)," he continued. "You have charged us as a church, and not without reason, as being an arrogant and oppressive force in Irish society for many years. It would be a great tragedy if you in the media were now to occupy the place which you have helped us vacate."

"For the media there is the attraction of the sensational, the salacious and the prurient, as has been seen in recent weeks."

"Truth must never be sacrificed to sensationalism. And if, on occasion, some of the judgments we make prove to be wrong, it is not always true that wrong judgments are the results or product of corrupt motives."

Ouch! I am more than three years distant from my editor's chair at The Irish Times but I can still feel the thump of the crozier.

Bishop Walsh is correct, of course. He has identified and accurately described the paradox that has emerged after perhaps 30 years of scrapping between a largely "liberal" media and a wholly authoritarian church. The two roles have been largely reversed. The church – or at least the clergy – has become the pariah, the underdog. The media have become, in effect, the new priesthood – a priesthood with its own hierarchy, its own rules of procedure and a reluctance to admit error or guilt that uncannily mirrors the ecclesiastical mindset that it challenged and harried for years.

Much of the space within Irish value-systems, previously occupied by bishops and priests, has largely been colonised by journalists, columnists, TV and radio personalities. The Sunday sermon has been displaced by The Sunday Independent. The process known as "examination of conscience" that preceded confession has been taken over by Joe Duffy, Pat Kenny and Gerry Ryan. Daily devotions – for those who try to fence off a little time each day for reflection – are perhaps now most closely approximated in the opinion columns of The Irish Times.

There are other similarities. The power of the bishops and the priests rose in 18th century and 19th century Ireland as their levels of education rose. So it has been with journalism and media work. A generation or two ago media jobs were often seen as unskilled and required no formal training. Today, they are eagerly sought-after with high entry requirements and the prospect of celebrity status for those who make it to the top rungs.

The modern Irish priesthood of media practitioners – most especially in the print sector – are very similar to their ecclesiastical predecessors in their resistance to challenge and to accountability.

"It's a mystery," the bishops and priests declared, whenever a wondering layperson might challenge some improbable tenet of faith. "Informed sources" or "insider sources" underpin much of what is presented as "news" by some members of the modern priesthood. Such "sources" must remain anonymous, of course. They frequently offer the advantage, it will be noted, of speaking in tight quotes, thus obviating the necessity of getting additional information on the record.

Accountability – yet to be fully defined – is in the offing with the proposed press council. But most journalists' hearts aren't in it – no more than the bishops and priests who have been dragged unwillingly to accountability at the bar of outraged public opinion.

The tragedy is that society must be the poorer for the reduction and humiliation of its religious – men, in Bishop Walsh's words who probably entered their avocation with high ideals. Will the new priesthood of the media (among whom are many idealists too) be any more successful at maintaining the value of their stock in the minds of the public they serve?

Conor Brady is Editor Emeritus of The Irish Times. He is a senior teaching fellow at the UCD Graduate Business School where he lectures in modern media