Many right-thinking (as well as many wrong-thinking) individuals are alarmed by the changing emphases in reporting in the news media. The news seems to be saturated with vulgarities, obscenities and trivialities, leading many to ask, "Why are these people prying into all this?" The answer most generally given is "The public has a right to know." But does the public have a right to know? Does wanting to know something translate into having the right to know something?
To begin with, the unqualified right to know does not exist on any logically consistent moral ground. The proof -- not my opinion, the proof -- is very simple. I recently heard a newscaster refer to the conflict between "the right to report a story and doing the right thing." Morally speaking, this conflict cannot exist. One cannot have the "right" to do something that is immoral. After all, the definition of "right" entails that one is both free to perform some action and remain moral in that performance. This is true under any moral theory. That some "legal rights" violate this account merely indicates that some laws are immoral, and that these "legal rights" are without moral justification. Such a condition existed when the "legal right" to own human beings was affirmed by the Dred Scott decision. Further, that varying moral theories offer different accounts of what is moral does not endanger my definition of "right". Instead, it simply guarantees that differing moral premises result in differing moral rights. Those who think moral actions are those which minimize pain while maximizing pleasure have the right to lie on occasions, namely those in which more pleasure than pain is so generated for all concerned. A person who takes morality to rest on universally applicable rules can never have that right. But the basis any individual has to claim to have any right comes from that individual's moral premises.
Some knowledge, say, the knowledge of what it feels like to shoot and kill random people passing beneath a college library window, an action which violates both principles discussed above, can only be gathered by immoral means. Since this knowledge is gotten immorally, we cannot have the right to know it. Thus, the unqualified right to know does not exist.
With the loss of an unqualified right to know, each case of the "right" to know must be established. For example, I have a right to know the common body of knowledge necessary to function meaningfully in my culture. Another example comes from my duties as a citizen. I have the right to know whatever is necessary to make an informed decision, be the decision made in the voting booth or the jury room.
At this juncture, one might be tempted to put forward a new formulation of the "unqualified right" to know: Individuals have the right to know anything they do not learn through immoral activity. I see at least two flaws in this formulation. The first flaw is that the new formulation is circular. If we replace "right" in the new formulation with the definition suggested earlier, we get "Individuals are free to morally learn anything that is not learned immorally." Clearly this is circular and teaches us nothing.
The second, and more interesting flaw, has to do with the large body of knowledge which can be learned without violating moral principles, but which it is not clear that I have the right to know. For example, it is not clear to me that I have the right to know whether you are wearing clean underwear or not. I can learn this information through moral means easily enough. All I need do is ask you. However, I am not sure that you are morally compelled to answer, which you should be if I have the right to know all things which are not learned through immoral means.
The real qualification for the right to know, then, is being free to ask such questions with an expectation of being answered. This expectation seems to arise from special personal relationships. If my mother should ask me, at age eight, whether I am wearing clean underwear or not, she should be able to expect an honest answer. Today, at age 48, such an expectation is probably misguided. If my wife should ask me about marital improprieties, she should be able to expect an honest answer. Locker room buddies and other nosy busybodies should not expect an answer, if they ask about such matters, let alone the truth.
Which brings us back to our original claimed source for the right to know: a free press. The claim is made that the relationship of the press to society entitles the news media to ask questions of varying natures and to properly expect an answer. I believe this view misrepresents the relationship of the press and the members of society; indeed, it misrepresents the relationship of the whole of society to its constituent parts. As we have already seen, no one has the right to complete knowledge of my every action, except through special relationships, such as parent-child, husband-wife, student-teacher, etc. If this relationship does not exist, no such right exists. Clearly, as these are special relationships, they cannot exist between all persons, else the specialness would disappear. So the press cannot claim to be filling the role of surrogate learner, gathering information to spread to others who have the right to know but are not there, unless the right to know proceeds from other grounds, such as political decision making or safety education or even the duty to help where one can. Mere curiosity, the fact that "inquiring minds want to know," gives the press no special privilege. My mother may genuinely be concerned about the state of my underwear today, but as an adult, I am not required to give an answer.
Where the claim for the right to know seems strongest is in areas that affect the would-be knowers' duties to act on the knowledge. Mothers have a duty to keep clean underwear on their children. Voters have a duty to make decision based on the best information. Juries have a duty to give a verdict based on all the pertinent evidence. But if you are not a mother, or a voter, or a juror, then you have no right to this information.
When applied to the press, this position may smell of censorship. I do not think it is. I would take censorship to mean, "preventing the press from letting individuals know what they have a right to know." This is not my goal. I do not think my position does any more than provide some grounds for editing. After all, when the newspaper does not print the encouraging results of my barium enema, no one feels that censorship has occurred. Likewise, inquiries into the private lives of public figures are not matters to which we have a right to knowledge, unless these matters can be proven to affect matters that affect other individuals. The response given by many, "Who knows what matters?" is a case of the informal fallacy argumentum ad ignoratiam, or appeal to ignorance. Our ignorance about a matter does not entitle us to act however we like on the matter, but rather is a call to learn more about the matter. Thus, a continued investigation into an issue in the private life of a public figure might reveal that the issue does affect the performance of the public figure in public life, but if it does not, then such material as was gathered in preliminary investigations is not the sort of thing to which we have a right. The right to investigate is not identical to the right to know. Thus, a properly formulated and research article on, say, the marital infidelity of a U.S. Senator would have to demonstrate that this would affect her ability to legislate and represent her constituents.
On the other hand, this doctrine does not limit the press to printing only what we have a right to know as result of special relationships nor only those things which are general importance to us as citizens. Some things are shared with us not because we have a right to them, but because the sharer desires that we have them. Such "gifts" of knowledge can be refused, but should not be "stolen." Thus, one may wish others to know about one's illness, in order that others may learn about the illness in general, or be moved to help one person in particular. But stealing news of an illness, as happened to Arthur Ashe, and sharing with others is not an exercise of the right to know anymore than my stealing your car is an exercise of my right to own property. Limiting the press' activity to reporting those two sorts of matters, things that we have the right to know and "gifts" of knowledge, is not censorship. Instead, it is protecting the press from immorality. The proper relationship of the press to society is not as procurer for the public's every curiosity, but rather, the unfettered educator of the citizens of a free and just society.
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