Reflection on Access and Accountability in Journalism

There’s a saying in the military: a leader is often simply the one who “remembers where the Jeep is parked.” Lately, I’ve found myself questioning whether American journalism is even remembering that at all.

Journalism isn’t over just because a reporter chases the truth. It truly ends when people can see that truth clearly and act upon it.

At the recent White House Correspondents Dinner, many notable figures gathered for what resembled an annual prom. Fancy outfits were on display, but honestly, that just complicates the task of finding a parked Jeep.

As I observed the event unfold, I couldn’t stop pondering about access. Who gets it? Why do they receive it? And what about those left standing outside? After four decades of experience in various critical settings, I recognize that ambiguous answers can really hurt individuals. Journalists occupy spaces where ambiguity can have grave consequences for the entire country.

Throughout those years, I’ve been with my wife through numerous health challenges. There were times when she was intubated and unable to communicate, and in those moments, I wasn’t there to showcase my perspective or impress anyone. I was there to provide her history and to grasp what needed to happen next.

Doctors were experts in medicine, and I was the expert in knowing Gracie. Both roles required careful attention.

Journalists find themselves in similar positions. They enter high-stake environments, such as the Oval Office or onboard Air Force One, questioning decision-makers whose choices impact millions. Those settings exist because the public can’t access them directly.

Access, then, becomes a form of impersonation.

Through my caregiving experiences, I’ve realized that access only brings value when it fosters clarity for everyone involved, both within and outside the room. Reporters don’t just seek career advancements or play politics. They are representatives for everyone, including those who might disagree with them.

Ultimately, truth should be allowed to speak freely, regardless of how uncomfortable that may be.

In caregiving, I’ve learned that vague responses lead nowhere. I never left crucial medical discussions with a simple “Let’s wait and see.” My question was always, “How long do you want to wait?” Without a timeframe, you often lack a real answer.

Journalists should hold to that standard as well.

For instance, President Biden and Secretary Mayorkas have claimed that the border is secure, but they argue that real change necessitates new laws and additional funding. The concern isn’t whether reporters personally agree; it’s about whether clarity reaches the public.

What does “secure” really mean? What evidence backs that assertion? What authority does the executive branch already possess? What requires Congressional approval? What would a successful outcome look like? And when will the public be informed if that success is realized?

If the government errs, the public has the right to understand why. Conversely, if false allegations were known, the authorities owe the public that clarity as well.

Both situations demand persistent questioning.

Yet, far too many journalists seem content to record what’s said and move on, mistaking shorthand for accountability.

A similar standard should apply universally. When Trump dodges questions or changes the subject, journalists who may support him should still confront him. “Mr. President, that doesn’t answer the question.” And then, they should listen closely.

This isn’t hostility; it’s straightforward management.

I happen to be friends with various healthcare providers for my wife, and while camaraderie can make conversations warmer, it doesn’t reduce the need for asking tough questions.

Reporters may develop affinities for those they cover, but that can’t overshadow their responsibilities. Their loyalty should lie with the public.

Many journalists assert they are committed to uncovering the truth, and I believe that’s sincere. However, honesty can’t just be an afterthought. Even if a whole team is searching for the Jeep, they are at a standstill until someone reveals where it is parked.

Now that the White House Correspondents’ Dinner is over, and the evening attire is safely stowed away, it’s time to inform the public where the Jeep is parked.

Journalism isn’t complete just because some chase the truth; it concludes when the masses can see that truth clearly enough to act. But, sadly, many journalists seem unmotivated to shift their approach. Meanwhile, audiences often reward performance, partisanship, and evasion with their attention. We might not ever set foot in the Oval Office or onboard Air Force One, but we can choose whom we trust to represent us there.

Access isn’t a privilege. It’s a responsibility borrowed from the public. Those given this power have an obligation to clarify things for the people, and the people must demand it.

Unless that happens, we risk facing more issues—just like a porous border or a visibly weakened president—while a room full of smiling journalists claims everything is just fine.