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Illustration by Carlos Carmonamedina
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Here are a few quotes from the Public Editor's inbox that resonated with us. Letters are edited for length and clarity. You can share your questions and concerns with us through the NPR Contact page. |
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Ron Strange wrote on Jan. 3: I was incredibly disappointed and discouraged in your reporters today, when I turned on the radio for the special report on what has happened in Venezuela. It’s bad enough that this country is in another undeclared war situation. What’s worse is I feel that you have, as the academic Timothy Snyder has said “...surrendered in advance.” At least two of your reporters referred to the “Department of Defense” as the “War Department.” It takes an act of Congress to change the name of that department and that has not happened! That kind of language from you “normalizes” the atrocities that this administration and president are perpetrating as they continue dismantling our republic! As in Orwell’s 1984, It starts with the language. |
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Ira Bibbero wrote on Jan. 3: During the coverage of the U.S. invasion of Venezuela this morning, two of your correspondents referred to Pete Hegseth as the Secretary of War. That is not his title. He is the Secretary of Defense. NPR should not be enabling Trump’s delusions and war mongering by repeating the fake titles he gives to his cabinet officers. It is an offense to peace-loving Americans to give credence to Trump’s unilateral efforts to turn us into a nation of violence. Please do not do it again. |
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Tim W. Rasinski wrote on Dec. 5: Why does NPR and specifically A1 refer to Pete Hegseth as the secretary of defense? The Department of Defense is now the Department of War and his official title is secretary of war. Why do you insist on dead naming his title and performing this micro-aggression? |
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NPR’s guidance is to use “defense secretary,” and “Department of Defense,” and to note, when necessary, that “Department of War” is the secondary title used by the president. If Congress makes Trump’s new title official, NPR will use the new language.
Tony Cavin, managing editor for standards, suggested that, when possible, NPR journalists should avoid making a choice at all, by saying “the Pentagon” or some other reference to the department.
If using the language appears to some as political capitulation, not using it seems like political resistance. Avoiding the choice is a good strategy, because NPR’s job is to inform the American public, not to take sides.
Three different NPR journalists called Hegseth the “war secretary” during a live special program on Jan. 3. When Hegseth started speaking at a press conference, host Daniel Estrin broke in to say, “We’re hearing Secretary of War Pete Hegseth.” Later, when offering analysis, senior correspondents Greg Myre and Franco Ordoñez both called him “secretary of war.”
In other places in the show, Estrin used the formal title of defense secretary, as did international correspondent Carrie Kahn.
“There’s two rules for us. The first is to make it clear to the audience,” Cavin said. “The second factor is, is it legal? Or is it just what somebody wants?”
This isn’t the only proper noun that Trump is attempting to change. He renamed the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America. The Kennedy Center is now the Trump-Kennedy Center. And our nation’s highest mountain, Denali, is once again Mount McKinley.
To understand how NPR should respond, it’s first important to understand what Trump is doing when he renames mountains, military bases, bodies of water, buildings and federal departments.
“He’s attempting to rename things on the basis of a political ideology,” linguist John McWhorter told me. A New York Times columnist and an associate professor at Columbia University, McWhorter writes and teaches about the intersection of language and culture. “The idea being we think it should be named this, because this reflects our political ideology and we think you should bow down to it.”
Coercing language changes rarely works, McWhorter said. Instead, changes that stick tend to happen naturally from the ground up. “Remember ‘freedom fries’?” McWhorter asked about the political attempt in the early 2000s to rename french fries after France opposed the U.S. invasion of Iraq. Like two of today’s letter writers, McWhorter encouraged us to stick with the old terms, which are clearly understood.
“I think that language change should be resisted when it’s being arbitrarily imposed rather than happening naturally,” he said.
For the Gulf, NPR is following the AP guidance and sticking with Gulf of Mexico, arguing that it’s an international body of water. For the performing arts center, NPR is calling it the Kennedy Center, until a lawsuit challenging the name change makes its way through the courts. And the mountain is now officially Mount McKinley, because Trump does have the power to change the name, just as President Barack Obama did in 2015, when he officially renamed it Denali. (The National Park is still called Denali, as it has been since the Carter administration.)
In each of these cases, journalists have a useful tool: the second reference. Whether they are using the new term or the old, letting listeners and readers know that there is another name for this thing avoids confusion.
While that’s not exactly what Estrin, Myre and Ordoñez were doing during that live show, it worked out that way. It doesn’t seem likely that anyone listening to the show was confused about who Hegseth was.
The special coverage that day was a fast-moving affair. It was the first chance the public had to hear from American leaders about what had happened in Venezuela and what was going to happen in the coming days and weeks. Given the nature of the program, using both titles seems appropriate.
“The main rule is if it becomes something that almost anybody of any stripe is saying, then that’s how language changes,” McWhorter said. “It’s not NPR’s business to rebel.”
Nor is it NPR’s business to force a political ideology on its audience. Whether or not the title ever becomes official, “secretary of war” is creeping into our discourse as an interchangeable title with “secretary of defense.” Because it’s not confusing to the audience, it’s not alarming when it slips into live coverage.
The same is not true for “Gulf of America.” That name isn’t catching on. And given the prominence of the Gulf of Mexico during hurricane season, sticking with the most common usage creates the least amount of confusion.
If the Trump-Kennedy Center becomes the legal name of the performing arts center, then journalists will probably use Kennedy Center on second reference, and everyone will understand.
This is not to dismiss or minimize the concerns that listeners have about President Trump’s attempts to shape the way Americans talk and think. Language matters in a democracy. And NPR has a responsibility to ensure that words reliably communicate clear, unambiguous meaning.
Just last week Pope Leo XIV, in an address to the Roman Catholic Church’s ambassadors, raised the danger of “Orwellian language” clouding communication. When that happens, everyone suffers.
“Freedom of speech and expression is guaranteed precisely by the certainty of language and the fact that every term is anchored in the truth,” he said. “It is painful to see how, especially in the West, the space for genuine freedom of expression is rapidly shrinking.”
I’m grateful that NPR and other news organizations spend time and energy on these decisions, ensuring that public media news is delivered in a way that it can be consumed by everyone.
That means first using the words and titles that the public is most familiar with; after that, explaining other relevant references. And finally, following the public’s lead by changing language when it’s apparent that the common usage is evolving. — Kelly McBride |
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The Office of the Public Editor is a team. Reporters Amaris Castillo and Nicole Slaughter Graham and copy editor Merrill Perlman make this newsletter possible. Illustrations are by Carlos Carmonamedina. We are still reading all of your messages on Facebook, Instagram, Threads and from our inbox. As always, keep them coming.
Kelly McBride
NPR Public Editor
Chair, Craig Newmark Center for Ethics & Leadership at the Poynter Institute |
Kelly McBride
Public Editor |
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Amaris Castillo
Poynter Institute |
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Nicole Slaughter Graham
Poynter Institute |
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The Public Editor stands as a source of independent accountability. Created by NPR's board of directors, the Public Editor serves as a bridge between the newsroom and the audience, striving to both listen to the audience's concerns and explain the newsroom's work and ambitions. The office ensures NPR remains steadfast in its mission to present fair, accurate and comprehensive information in service of democracy.
Read more from the NPR Public Editor, contact us, or follow us on social media. |
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