Black and British

By Gary Younge

BEN BRADLEE was intrigued by the very fact that I was sitting in front of him.

The former editor of the Washington Post, who stewarded the paper through the Watergate scandal, was interested not so much in what I had done, or what I might do — but simply what I was.

He was interviewing me for a three-month fellowship with the Post, which is awarded annually to a young British journalist. But after a few cu- rsory questions about the pieces I had submitted, it became clear that he was most interested in the fact that I was black and British and that, I suppose, he had never met anyone with those credentials before.

``Are there many blacks at the Guardian?’’ he asked.

``Not that many, but there are a few,’’ I said.

``How many?’’ he asked.

``Well, that depends. Do you mean Asians or African-Caribbeans or both, and are you including sub-editors and editors as well?’’ I asked.

``How many black writers are there at the Guardian,’’ he said, slightly testily.

``Myself and an Asian reporter.’’

``Do you have any problems?’’

``Fewer than

I would have anywhere else, I think, but occasionally yes,’’ I said.

``What kind of problems?’’ he asked, and so it continued, his line of questioning and my hesitant responses, illustrating so much of what is good an bad about American and British attitudes to race and journalism.

The very candour with which he dealt with race was a relief. It reflected the head-on way American papers tend to deal with the subject. The Post has a diversity committee, which reviews the racial and ethnic composition of its staff, a correspondent dedicated to race relations issues and, while I was there, held informal `brown-bag’ lunches where senior figures from the paper as well as its Ombudsman discussed the way the paper reported race issues.

In British newspapers race is one of those issues not to be mentioned in polite company. When I went for an interview at the Financial Times with my hair in shoulder-length plaits some years ago, no one said I would have to take them out if I was going to work there, but the hairstyle just didn’t go with the job.

But while my race is the most obvious thing about me — and therefore needn’t necessarily be avoided — it is not the most interesting or important thing about me either. I went in to see Bradlee hoping I could impress him with my ideas for how I could contribute to the paper’s election coverage. But while other, white candidates were asked about their work and their plans, I had to talk about who I was and what that meant. A salient example of how, in the US, issues of race do not just surround you, they often end up defining you.

These differences are partly a function of history and numbers. Ever since black people were brought to America in chains more than 300 years ago, race has been a major faultline in the nation’s political, economic and social culture. Little wonder, then, that it should still be a major issue in the newsroom.

Moreover, there are 40 times as many African-Americans (including a sizeable middle class) as there are Afro-Caribbeans and Asians (with a comparatively tiny professional class) in Britain, and we have only been in this country in significant numbers for around 50 years. That gives Black America a critical mass of talent, purchasing power and political leverage that few advertisers and editors can ignore, and that ethnic minorities in Britain cannot hope to match.

But it is also to do with attitude. In order to address a problem you must first acknowledge it. Most of those who run and recruit to British newspapers have failed to do that.

Experience in America has shown that a change in attitude is the first step to overhauling the structures that can, eventually, change that reality. In 1978, the American Society of Newspaper Editors adopted a goal which challenged US newspapers to make their newsrooms reflect the nation’s racial and ethnic diversity by the year 2000. In the 20 years since then, the number of ethnic minority journalists jumped by 270 per cent, compared to a 17 per cent increase among white journalists. Even so, with the proportion of minority journalists still less than half the proportion of minority citizens, last year ASNE was forced to concede that it could not meet its timetable.

Nevertheless, its considerable achievement was governed not by altruism but economics. It was senior executives who realised that if their products were going to remain viable, they would have to reach out to the 26 per cent of Americans who are not white. As well as establishing quotas, attempting to take on minority interns and stepping up outreach programmes in local schools in black and hispanic areas, they also motivated personnel teams with financial incentives. When considering editor’s bonuses, most of the main news organisations — such as Gannett, Knight Ridder and Time Inc — rank track record in improving diversity alongside profit, installing new technology and circulation.

``Many managers feel they are open to diversity, but in practice they may not do very much,’’ Jose Ferrer, Time Inc’s executive editor in charge of recruitment, told the Columbia Journalism Review. ``If you’re not pushing at this, then you’re probably not fixing it, and we’re asking our managers to fix it. Just being polite to people of colour is not enough.’’

Mainstream British newspapers have yet to understand that minority does not mean marginal. Britain’s black communities are not only at the cutting edge of the nation’s youth culture, and certain small business sectors, but demographically form a far larger proportion of the youth market British papers are so keen to penetrate. Black and brown Britons are now mainstream. That does not mean that they want to read about race issues all the time, but it does suggest that the closer a paper reflects their experience, the greater the likelihood that they will be interested in the product.

This is not tokenism, it is talent-spotting. It is the classic illusion of the colour-blind that they are already hiring the best people for the jobs.

That is why they continue looking for new blood in the same places and in the same ways they always have. In the media this usually means recruiting by word of mouth through informal networks; a name mentioned at a dinner party, a person who impressed you on a press trip, even someone you met in a pub.

The trouble with these networks is that they are often not just social, but cultural, racial and gender-based, too. In short, the journalistic elite hires in its own image and in so doing reinforces the status quo: white, male and middle-class.

—Guardian