The question of whether journalists or private philanthropists have a greater responsibility to rhetorical ethics requires an examination…? David Oliver Relin and Greg Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea demonstrates the power of a private philanthropist in using emotional appeals and embellishments of truth to convince the public into giving money to a charity—in this case, the Central Asia Institute (CAI). On the other hand, an analysis of John Krakauer’s rhetoric in Three Cups of Deceit proves that investigative journalists, unlike private philanthropists, have a responsibility to truthfully represent events within their writing. The principles of journalism mandate ethical journalists to write based on factual information because there exists a potential for abuse of power if they decide to use their writing for unscrupulous means. Such an overarching principle does not exist for private philanthropists and thus, they have leeway in using tools such as emotion and exaggeration to pursue contributions from the public. Therefore, investigative journalists have a greater responsibility to be truthful than private philanthropists as journalists are in a higher position of trust in society, which creates an implicit faith in their reporting. Krakauer’s work demonstrates that a credible investigative journalist has a responsibility to base his arguments on truth because of the potential for abuse of power.
…show more content…
Credibility gives a journalist precedent with the public—people are more likely to believe a writer with an established reputation of factual reporting. Cuddy argues that prior to forming an opinion on the argument, the audience will decide whether the messenger is credible—“before people decide what they think of your message, they decide what they think of you” (Cuddy et al. 59). Powerful arguments are subverted by the character of the author—for instance, no matter the future content of his writing, nobody will take seriously the work of a journalist such as Stephen Glass, rising-star turned disgraced writer and failed lawyer (Grimminck). John Krakauer, author of exposés such as Three Cups of Deceit and Under the Banner of Heaven, contrasts with individuals such as Stephen Glass and demonstrates the importance of credibility. Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, which examines the cult-like practices within the Christ of Latter-Day Saints and the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ Latter-Day Saints, was well received by critics, with the New York Times calling “almost every section of the book . . . fascinating in its own right” (Wright). An ethical journalist, therefore, has a responsibility to truthfully report on situations because existing credibility may be used to mislead the public. Krakauer’s precedent as a truthful writer partly contributed to the $17 million drop in donations to the Central Asia Institute in the two years following the publication of Three Cups of Deceit (Krakauer 104). A respected journalist holds a level of authority within his writing—because we believed him in the past, we tend to give the benefit of the doubt in the future. While Krakauer used his influence for a seemingly benevolent aim, unscrupulous journalists might not abide by an ethical principle. Mortenson, although not a journalist, illustrates the power that a credible persona may have on soliciting action from the public for misleading purposes. Despite having a “virulent strain of megalomania,” the “myth of Greg Mortenson . . . [as] a real-life Indiana Jones and his remarkable humanitarian campaign in the Taliban’s backyard” prevailed within the public’s mind (Krakauer 107, 20). The perception of Mortenson shows the influence that a credible figure may have on the public solely by virtue of character rather than argument.
Credibility gives a journalist precedent with the public—people are more likely to believe a writer with an established reputation of factual reporting. Cuddy argues that prior to forming an opinion on the argument, the audience will decide whether the messenger is credible—“before people decide what they think of your message, they decide what they think of you” (Cuddy et al. 59). Powerful arguments are subverted by the character of the author—for instance, no matter the future content of his writing, nobody will take seriously the work of a journalist such as Stephen Glass, rising-star turned disgraced writer and failed lawyer (Grimminck). John Krakauer, author of exposés such as Three Cups of Deceit and Under the Banner of Heaven, contrasts with individuals such as Stephen Glass and demonstrates the importance of credibility. Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, which examines the cult-like practices within the Christ of Latter-Day Saints and the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ Latter-Day Saints, was well received by critics, with the New York Times calling “almost every section of the book . . . fascinating in its own right” (Wright). An ethical journalist, therefore, has a responsibility to truthfully report on situations because existing credibility may be used to mislead the public. Krakauer’s precedent as a truthful writer partly contributed to the $17 million drop in donations to the Central Asia Institute in the two years following the publication of Three Cups of Deceit (Krakauer 104). A respected journalist holds a level of authority within his writing—because we believed him in the past, we tend to give the benefit of the doubt in the future. While Krakauer used his influence for a seemingly benevolent aim, unscrupulous journalists might not abide by an ethical principle. Mortenson, although not a journalist, illustrates the power that a credible persona may have on soliciting action from the public for misleading purposes. Despite having a “virulent strain of megalomania,” the “myth of Greg Mortenson . . . [as] a real-life Indiana Jones and his remarkable humanitarian campaign in the Taliban’s backyard” prevailed within the public’s mind (Krakauer 107, 20). The perception of Mortenson shows the influence that a credible figure may have on the public solely by virtue of character rather than argument.