A friend roared at me on Facebook. Here’s how we can turn down the political volume.
By Steve Riley
The message hung there in late March, as nasty and ominous as the wildfire smoke that was hovering above my little hometown in the North Carolina mountains.
“…You, Steve Riley, are amongst the haters!
Go away, we can make this country great again W/O the anti USA, that u r spewing!
Be American or go to another country!!!
PS. I’ll pay for a one way ticket to wherever u want to go!
Can’t come back!”
My offense? I had posted, on Facebook, a link to Jeffrey Goldberg’s startling story in The Atlantic explaining how he had ended up with war-planning information from President Trump’s national security team – with specifics that put to lie the many assertions from the administration that the information shared wasn’t secret.
“These texts revealed who would be hit and when,” I wrote. “Not classified info? Good news for the standard to be applied to future FOIAs.”
I am accustomed to my work as a journalist attracting criticism. The reply quoted above still surprised me, not because of its content but because of its source:
It came from an old college friend.
The writer was not someone with whom I have stayed in touch, but it stung nonetheless. (He later apologized, and I accepted.)
And it got me to thinking: What was I trying to accomplish with the post, and what could I have done that’s better?
Those are haunting questions. After spending 41 years in newsrooms as a reporter and editor, staying away from personal involvement in politics and divisive issues, retirement holds different possibilities. With a president who seems to despise people who do what I did for a living, who seeks to neuter free discussion and dissent, it’s tempting to start sending donations to politicians with better motives, assemble signs for protests and find other ways to resist.
But after all those years in the business, that’s a difficult line to cross. Once you’re there, it feels as if there’s no going back, no way to continue writing an occasional free-lance reporting piece or essay. I enjoy them, I learn new things, I hope to add to discussion and knowledge of a relevant topic, and the intellectual engagement helps keep my brain nimble.
Since I retired in 2021, I’ve stayed busy with exercise and travel, writing occasionally, and beginning the joy of doting on three young granddaughters. I’m an officer at our small church, which has been active in helping the Asheville region recover from Hurricane Helene’s biblical floods and wind damage in late September. I’m not instinctively looking for stress, or fights.
So back to the questions: What was I trying to accomplish with the Goldberg post? Seek affirmation from friends and antipathy from those who live in the world of MAGA? Spread the word of good journalism? Be a smart-ass?
I lean toward answer No. 2, but I can’t rule out No. 3. Regardless, it’s just not easy for honest posts to influence anyone on such platforms, and they may do more harm than good. From now on, I’ll stay away from Facebook posts with political implications.
Now, for the more difficult part: What could I have done – what can I do -- that’s better? How can I, we, work to turn down the volume, add some light, not just more heat?
My old friend’s angry words landed the morning of March 27. That evening, as it happened, my wife coaxed me to attend a talk at our church by writer/speaker/musician/peacemaker David LaMotte, who lives in Black Mountain.
Somehow, LaMotte focused squarely on my questions, which I hadn’t even uttered. His message, couched in advice to church members: To have peaceful conversations, to eventually have impact, focus on the values, issues and people, the “small ‘P’ politics,” as he called them. Let others handle the “big ‘P’ politics,” the bitter fights between political parties.
How will this play out for me? I’ll likely continue to avoid crossing that line into big P politics. But as for the values, issues and people, I have some ideas.
This summer, I’ll join the statewide board of a major environmental nonprofit, getting busy on climate change. I’ll continue to make donations to other worthy nonprofits. Under rigid ethics codes – I helped write or revise them at two regional newsrooms - most of that activity would have been off-limits to me as a working journalist. It feels good to be able to be involved at that level at a minimum.
I’ll continue to advocate for press freedom and to call attention to great journalism (you can find me on LinkedIn, where the discussion tends to be more constructive).
And maybe I’ll give my old college friend a call. I’m thinking a personal conversation would work out better
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Steve Riley was a reporter and editor in Mississippi, North Carolina and Texas for 41 years. He retired in 2021 as executive editor of the Houston Chronicle. A native of Nettleton, he graduated from Ole Miss in 1980.