Events moved faster than I could write my first Freedom of the Prez post.

I’d planned to let you know SPJ is aware that the president of a small, Christian college in Tennessee ordered a student journalist not to publish a story about a former professor whom the FBI arrested over the summer in a child-sex sting.

The student editor, Alex Green, published the story on his own and distributed it on the Bryan College campus, which was courageous in my eyes. I learned about it from Jim Romenesko’s blog.

I asked Vice President of Campus Chapter Affairs Neil Ralston and President-elect Dave Cuillier to do some fact-gathering so I could decide what SPJ’s official position would be.

Meanwhile, Bryan College President Dr. Stephen Livesay issued an apology Wednesday afternoon, which you can read here.

I’m glad to see Dr. Livesay acknowledge that his action to stop the story’s publication “may have been a mistake.”

I also appreciate his openness about the administration’s thinking in stopping the story’s publication, though I disagree with it.

In a sense, this incident provides a case study in applying SPJ’s Code of Ethics, because the Code was intended to help journalists balance competing ideals as they make decisions in their reporting.

The competing ideals here:

Seek truth and report it vs minimize harm.

Alex Green, editor of the Bryan College student newspaper, the Triangle, sought out the truth behind the abrupt resignation of a respected scholar and teacher.

In his explanation about why he chose to publish his story despite Dr. Livesay’s directive, Green said he’d presumed that the professor jumped to a better job. But when the explanation he got from the school indicated the teacher left to “pursue other opportunities,” Green began trying to learn the real reason.

Green’s discovery of the professor’s arrest records in a neighboring state as well as the FBI’s press release led to the story he published and distributed on Monday.

Dr. Livesay’s apology and explanation on Wednesday shows a deep concern for the human impact of such a story (minimize harm), not just on the alleged perpetrator but on the campus community.

I admire his sensitivity and commitment to the principles under which his school operates, but I don’t agree with his news judgment.

In this case, seek truth and report it outweighs minimize harm.

Note: A version of this column also appears in the March/April issue of Quill magazine.

A journalist friend who also is commissioner in a fantasy baseball league to which I belong recently sent an email to all the team owners who also are journalists.

Does playing in a league that features modest fees and prize money constitute a form of sports betting? he inquired. And if so, does that constitute an ethical violation?

After all, he noted, there have been cases where sports columnists have been disciplined and even fired following disclosures that they had placed some rather large bets with gambling bookies.

Ultimately, we decided to go ahead with our league this spring because none of us are sports reporters, the money is nominal and winning requires a lot more strategy and skill than a simple bet.

But I bring up this matter not just because it raised an interesting question but I loved the mere fact that we were having that conversation.

It also illustrates a belief that I’ve long held when it came to journalism ethics.

I’ve never thought of ethics as a high-brow concept or something that we ponder during the occasional panel or classroom discussion. It’s not a code of conduct written in stone or parsed in a textbook.

To me, it’s more like a daily meditation and a way of looking at the world. It’s part of the fabric of everyday life as a reporter, not just on big stories where there are tough decisions and close judgement calls.

I think of it more as a practice that requires some thoughtful behavior on matters as large as a front page story or as small a cup of coffee that we insist on paying for or whether we can place can place a small bet on a sporting event.

Ethical decision making is also something that grows more difficult the harder we work at our craft.

When I’ve talked to student journalists on this topic, I explain that one way they can avoid an ethical dilemma is to not work very hard and not dig very deep.

But then I quickly add that they’ll be lousy journalists if they don’t dig deeper into news stories and willingly put themselves into situations where ethical questions grow more frequent and complex.

That’s also one reason why I like the SPJ Code of Ethics, particularly in the way we apply it not as an immutable set of rules but rather a tool to help working journalists work though those problems.

The latest  issue of Quill is the one we devote each year to stories on journalism ethics. It comes out at a time of year when many of our chapters will be holding ethics events ranging from panel discussions to the popular ethics poker games.

But our preoccupation with this topic is year round and day-by-day.

Small wonder then that journalism ethics is the one area where SPJ is viewed as the industry leader and where our code is seen as the gold standard.

We do a lot of great and important work each year in other areas such as freedom of information, diversity, professional training and defending the public’s right to know.

But our ethics code — as one longtime SPJ member once told me — is our franchise. It’s the area where people both inside and outside our profession turn to us first.

Just within this past year we’ve had a would-be presidential candidate and a school board in New Jersey try to use our code to their own purpose.

In both instances, we’ve had to remind people that one of the strengths of our code and the reason for its durability  is because it is a voluntary set of guidelines that call for balancing competing interests in order to do what is right.

But the fact that they held up our code as something of value is a testament to its strength and utility.

I also love the fact that we’re never done with this work. Last year, SPJ and SDX published the fourth edition of our book “Journalism Ethics – a Casebook of Professional Conduct for News Media.”

And this year, our Ethics Committee has undertaken an ambitious project of issuing a series of white papers that elaborate on such topics as political activity and checkbook journalism.

I’d urge you go out and buy the book and read those white papers on our website and thumb through the stories in Quill.

I think you’ll find as I do that not a working day goes by when these guideposts are not useful tools in negotiating and resolving ethical questions, be they large or small.

We’re justifiably proud of the SPJ Code of Ethics.

It’s a well-written document that has become the gold standard of our industry. Plus it’s a useful framework for individual journalists who are trying to sort through the ethical dilemmas that seem to come our way each day.

We’re also glad when people outside of journalism take note of our code. But sometimes their admiration for the code goes a bit too far. That appears to be the case with a school board in southern New Jersey.

The Jackson School Board is contemplating a policy that would seek to enforce our code by shunning journalists whom the school board decides have acted in an unethical manner.

When I spoke to School Board President Sharon Dey last week, she told me that the proposed policy is not aimed at anyone in particular. Nor was it prompted by any recent stories about the district, she said.

I got the feeling though that the policy is aimed mostly at online journalists and bloggers. In a letter to the Asbury Park Press, she wrote about “protecting our students and our district from what could happen in the ever changing world of journalism media.”

SPJ has some concerns and objections to the policy, which we spelled out to the board in a letter that we mailed to the board earlier this week.

First, our code is a voluntary set of guidelines. It is not something that needs to be codified by any branch of government. That would be a misuse of our code, not to mention a First Amendment problem.

We are all for the school board and any member of the public expecting and demanding the kind of ethical behavior that the code spells out.

And certainly board members and the public have the right not to speak to anyone whose behavior is unethical. But you don’t need a policy to do that.

So we’ve asked the school board not to adopt the policy when it comes up for a vote on Dec. 20. Based upon a story this week in the Asbury Park Press, it appears we may have made some progress.

While we strongly disagree with the proposed policy, the people on the board seem to be earnest and well-intentioned.

So perhaps what is needed here is some honest and open dialogue between school officials and members of the local media – all media.

SPJ has offered to facilitate such a discussion. It’s my belief that it might provide a teachable moment. I hope the school board takes us up on this offer. Stay tuned.

Correction and update [1/7/2011]: The original post noted that there had been “… 250,000 diplomatic cables posted online …” This number came from an Associated Press report. In reality, the number of cables actually posted at the time was closer to 2,000. The number was changed in this post when the author and SPJ became aware of the error. However, a full explanation or clarification regarding the correction was not added, as noted by Craig Silverman of the Columbia Journalism Review. This clarification is included now, and SPJ thanks Jay Rosen and CJR for pointing out the incorrect number and omission.

If you’re looking for consensus on WikiLeaks, don’t ask a group of journalists. Several of our committees have been batting around the ramifications all week, and we can’t even agree on the most basic question: Is WikiLeaks journalism?

Those who say “no” call WikiLeaks a source, a conduit, a whistleblower. They call the 2,000 diplomatic cables posted online a data-dump without filters, fact-checking or context from other sources. They say there’s no original reporting, hence the need for established media partners to get out the word.

Others point to WikiLeaks’ own website detailing its process “to get the unvarnished truth out to the public.” The site claims its own employees verify material “of significance to society” and claims to have developed a “harm minimisation (sic) procedure” to remove or delay identifying details “to protect life and limb of innocent people.”

Seeking truth and minimizing harm echo the first two tenets of the Society of Professional Journalists’ Code of Ethics. Only Julian Assange and company know if WikiLeaks followed these stated procedures or recklessly exercised little or no judgment before unleashing the storm.

To me, whether what we just witnessed defines “journalism” shouldn’t be the question perplexing this Society – or this society.

First and foremost, I don’t believe we should be in the business of defining journalism any more than we want to define who is a journalist. These are epic times in the redefinition of information-gathering and sharing. To exclude any format will define us as the fools of tomorrow.

Further, the question of whether WikiLeaks is journalism matters not a whit to the general public. They don’t care what we call it, from aggregator to middleman to source to blogger to journalist. The world audience just wants information.

And let’s be honest here. There’s no questioning the journalistic value of this information. We now know that China might agree to a reunified Korea, that more Middle East countries are concerned about Iranian nukes than have admitted publicly, that the Obama administration tried some heavy-handed incentives to get other countries to take Guantanamo detainees.

Nothing I’ve read rises to the level of endangering lives. Treason? Even Defense Secretary Robert Gates minimizes the potential harm, saying the disclosures may be embarrassing but of “modest” consequence to U.S. foreign policy.

In my book, the government should bypass the messenger and look within its own glass house. If there was treason, it lies within. It starts with a system that allows an Army private to access classified information.

No, the real question all of us should be asking has nothing to do with the content of the information, but rather the process of gathering it. It’s not about format or who does the publishing. It’s about the decision-making that leads to publication.

That’s what defines professional journalism. It’s not the paycheck. It’s not the type of employer. It’s the tool-gathering skill set. It’s the knowledge to verify and test for accuracy, to provide context via other sources and to provide opportunity for the subjects to respond. It’s about acting responsibly, recognizing the potential harm in the information and vetting it to ensure safety of person and security of government.

That’s the question we should all be discussing, the same question every person and outlet disseminating information should consider. I don’t care who you are or what you call yourself, if you’re not applying these principles, you’re not a journalist. That’s where I feel comfortable defining the word.

In recent months, some have urged SPJ to update our ethics code, and we’re looking into that. But cases like WikiLeaks demonstrate how the code as it exists covers the most controversial of journalistic questions.

So we’re left with what else the code says. These are the parts some might quibble with Assange and WikiLeaks: Be accountable. (Harder to do while you’re in hiding.) Question motives, not only of the alleged Army source but of WikiLeaks itself. As the code says: ”Pursuit of truth is not a license for arrogance.”

WikiLeaks provides an opportunity to reaffirm what SPJ believes. First and foremost, we’re a First Amendment organization. We believe in the right to publish truthful information in the public interest. We’re about open government. But we also believe in considerations of harm. As citizens, it’s in our interest that national security stands. Unfortunately, governments sometimes use secrecy to hide what should shine in the light of day. It is these abuses we expose in our role as watchdogs. That is why we’ve gone to bat for leakers and whistleblowers in the past, after we’ve vetted and confirmed their information, of course.

Some outside SPJ have called on us to draw a moral line in the sand between whistleblower and aide to the enemy. We do so every day where lives depend on the line. That’s where responsible journalists consider and make the tough decisions whether and what to publish. Issues that simply ”embarrass” the government don’t cross the line.

Others inside SPJ have called on us to distinguish professional journalism from what WikiLeaks just did. The answer lies in what standards the site used. Had PFC Bradley Manning allegedly leaked the information to mainstream media, would we be asking the same question? Or would we be lauding the scoop? Glass houses, everyone.

Perhaps WikiLeaks sought out professional partners because Assange of all people realizes the truth of his site’s limitation: a lack of credibility whether real or imagined. That’s something from which you can’t hide. You earn it over time. You earn it doing the hard work, applying the principles of good, ethical journalism the world can believe.

It’s really simple. Never plagiarize.

Kids learn it in school. I’m not talking J-school but grade school. Certainly high school.

It’s part of the Society of Professional Journalists’ Code of Ethics. We elaborate on some points but not this one. Two words: “Never plagiarize.”

You may have seen Facebook and the Internet blow up today over an incident on which we’ve only heard one side. I want to be clear on that because that’s another part of our ethics code: “Test the accuracy of information from all sources.”

We haven’t heard from the regional food magazine at the center of a storm after a writer accused it of what seems to be either the ultimate chutpah or a lapse in judgment on the order of Mt. Everest. We tried to contact the magazine. No one is answering phone calls or e-mails.

Here’s what the one side that’s talking is saying: Author Monica Gaudio says a friend contacted her to congratulate her on her article “A Tale of Two Tarts” getting published in a regional food magazine called Cooks Source. Guadio says that was a surprise to her (her original article is here). She looked it up and sure enough, there was her article and her byline. So she says she contacted an editor at Cooks Source and asked for a $130 donation to the Columbia School of Journalism in lieu of payment for her work.

(This post from “How Publishing Really Works” has a pretty good run-down of the situation, with many updates. Apparently it’s not just Guadio’s work that’s possibly been plagiarized.)

Now, this is the part Guadio claims that’s blown up the Internet. Remember, we have no proof other than her word, which has been widely quoted, because we haven’t heard from Cooks Source.

Here is part of what Gaudio says the editor e-mailed her:

“But honestly Monica, the web is considered ‘public domain’ and you should be happy we just didn’t ‘lift’ your whole article and put someone else’s name on it! It happens a lot, clearly more than you are aware of, especially on college campuses, and the workplace. If you took offence and are unhappy, I am sorry, but you as a professional should know that the article we used written by you was in very bad need of editing, and is much better now than was originally. Now it will work well for your portfolio. For that reason, I have a bit of a difficult time with your requests for monetary gain, albeit for such a fine (and very wealthy!) institution. We put some time into rewrites, you should compensate me! I never charge young writers for advice or rewriting poorly written pieces, and have many who write for me… ALWAYS for free!”

Really?

It’s hard to believe any professional journalist would say this, which is why I’m couching this blog post and being cautious about accusations against Cooks Source’s editor (though the evidence is certainly not in the magazine’s favor). I mean, every high schooler knows if they plagiarize they get an “F”. College students know they get expelled. And who ever said the Internet is “public domain”? Gaudio published her original article on her own domain, which she says contains a clear copyright notice at the bottom of the webpage.

In case anyone’s confused, the Internet is not public domain. People still own their creative output. It’s still wrong to plagiarize in part or in whole.

It seems a lot of people get that. Since the magazine’s website directs people to its Facebook page, a lot of people started “liking” Cooks Source. Usually that’s a good thing, but not in this case. Check it out.

Ouch.

Again, we only have one side here and can’t seem to get the other. But late this afternoon, the story Cooks Source had posted under Gaudio’s name no longer appeared online. Instead, the link reads: ”This content is currently unavailable. The page you requested cannot be displayed right now.”

We don’t know what happened to all the hard copies. You can’t delete newsprint.