In Gaza hospital reports, the crutch of attribution failed

early version of the new york times’ online coverage of the gaza hospital explosion Oct. 17, which THE TIMES later RECANTED. (screenshot from niemanlab.org)

Nothing sets up the news media for errors and remorse better than the bad combination of major breaking news and the immediate lack of information about that news. Audiences demand information pronto, and the media have zippo.

This was the case when an explosion occurred Oct. 17 at a Gaza City hospital. The New York Times soon posted this big, online headline: “Israeli Strike Kills Hundreds in Hospital, Palestinians Say.” The headline went through several versions, including one that added “At Least 500 Dead.” The “Palestinians” in “Palestinians Say” was the Hamas-controlled Palestinian Health Ministry. Other media around the globe produced similar headlines, including some with no attribution.

As the world learned from emerging evidence over the next 48 hours, the finger point to Israel was wrong. Also known as a lie. The leading suspected cause is now an errant Palestinian rocket. And the 500 death count was too high.

But neither the gradual revelation of the truth, nor Israel’s dispute of the blame 90 minutes after the explosion, could offset the anti-Israel sentiments and protests sparked by the steadfast first impression from the early media reports, which gave credibility to a claim and a source that deserved none.

In a case like this, journalists shouldn’t even bother with the “Well, they said it” defense.

But that defense – thinking you’re off the hook because you attributed information to a source – is part of why The Times and other organizations did what they did. As was the immediate information vacuum, which is especially common in a war. Everyone is desperately looking for news that seems quickly reportable.

Editors and producers can find other self-justifications for publishing disinformation. For instance, that powerful people and entities deserve time and space just because they are powerful. And that propaganda campaigns – in wars and politics, especially – are newsworthy in themselves.

In some cases, I buy the argument that the public needs to know if newsmakers are spreading false information. The question to always ask, though, is what potential harm may come from giving attention to the falsehoods. Does it endanger anyone? Does it spawn hatred? That both would happen in the case of the false accusation against Israel was completely predictable.

One New York Times editor, who was rebuffed, tried to warn against the intended headline, according to an article Tuesday in Vanity Fair, which obtained internal messages. The editor wrote: “We can’t just hang the attribution of something so big on one source without having tried to verify it. And then slap it across the top of the [homepage]. Putting the attribution at the end doesn’t give us cover, if we’ve been burned and we’re wrong.”

The Times, unlike several other guilty news outlets, eventually admitted its mistake, saying it “should have taken more care with the initial presentation.” What exactly does that mean? To start, it means making it clear what claims are unverified and whether any evidence exists. It also means stating any and all facts to the contrary.

Of course, do those defenses work if people read only the headline? That would be a no. And if someone were predisposed to believe a lie, would contradictory facts stop them? That would be another no.

So here’s an idea: When the stakes are really high, go against nature and custom and don’t publish the claim. Grant time for the truth to show itself. Be willing to run behind the pack on the apparent blockbuster, which won’t be a blockbuster anyway if it’s wrong. When standing in an information void, news organizations need the courage to do this more often.