#media ethics

Formula 1 sells proximity. Journalism pays the price.

The paddock is supposed to be a workplace. F1 sells it like a dream.

I wrote about that — and about what happens when a sport turns access into aspiration and blurs journalism with branding.

This week’s FaceTime is a love letter to journalism and an analysis of paddock access, creator culture, and the way F1 keeps marketing closeness as proof of worth — then acting scandalized when people start chasing it.

Margaret Sullivan at American Crisis:

Jamelle Bouie gets it. The New York Times columnist wrote something a few days ago that stood out to me because it was so directly stated and so horrifyingly correct. It began: “Even if anyone had elected Elon Musk to anything, the past week would still be one of the most serious examples of executive branch malfeasance in American history.” Bouie went on: “Musk has seized hold of critical levers of power and authority within the federal government, apparently enabling him to destroy federal agencies at will, barring congressional action or judicial pushback.” The piece was titled, “There is No Going Back.” Here’s a gift link. Read it in full and weep for what we’re losing, day by day. But Bouie’s sense of alarm, well founded as it is, is strangely rare in Big Journalism these days. Witness, for example, a piece last week by Jason Willick, a regular opinion columnist at the Washington Post, who wrote something titled “Save the panic over Trump’s ‘power grabs.’ It might be needed later.” Calm down, Willick counseled, mocking the idea that a coup is underway, and concludes that, instead of having what he calls a “meltdown,” everyone should just wait and see. Why? Because, he argues, casting Trump and Musk’s early moves as a constitutional crisis “will diminish the force of such warnings if they are needed.” Willick was appropriately blasted in the reader-comments section: “This sycophantic, willfully delusional apologia for the dismantling of the American republic and the shredding of the constitution … is contemptible sophistry of the very worst kind,” said one. Read Willick’s column, if you have the stomach, and judge for yourself; here’s a gift link. Overall, the tone in the major media is much more like Willick than Bouie. For example, the popular Times newsletter, The Morning, offered this tepid headline one day last week: “A Constitutional Crisis?” Then it considered the question from various angles, including only one quote from a lawmaker — Republican senator Thom Tillis of North Carolina who notes that what Trump and Musk are doing “runs afoul of the Constitution in the strictest sense,” but “nobody should bellyache about that.” As Jamelle Bouie put it in the column I mentioned above, no question mark is appropriate here. In fact, calling what’s happening a constitutional crisis “does not even begin to capture the radicalism of what is unfolding in the federal bureaucracy.”

[...] Righteous indignation like that is hard to come by. That’s why I wrote a Guardian column last week about two new-generation Democrats who have become strong voices: Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett of Texas and Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut. I quoted political consultant Sawyer Hackett: “There’s been no better messenger in the first two weeks of Trump 2.0 than Chris Murphy. At a time when too many Democrats are afraid of their shadow, Murphy is showing how to fight back with a compelling populist message that should be a blueprint for the Democrats moving forward.” My Guardian editor asked me to include a paragraph at the end about what’s giving me hope right now. You can read that, and the rest of the column, here.

Hudson Williams finally snapped at the men who wouldn’t stop following him, right up to the door of his temporary Paris residence. From what I saw, his mother and girlfriend were with him, along with two other people who travel with him, I think a stylist and a groomer. “Guys, you just followed me to my residence,” he told the group, before shutting down their apology. He grabbed the stack of headshots, tried and failed to set them alight with a lighter, tore them up when that didn’t work, threw away a sharpie one of the men handed him, and told the group straight: “You guys aren’t fans. You’re being really creepy” and to leave him alone. He kept walking, told them not to follow, and they ignored that too. Fair enough that he got frustrated. I’d have been afraid as well as angry.

Massive credit to him for taking it out on the photos rather than the men themselves, even though it clearly got heated. And from what I saw, it was his girlfriend who eventually took the photos back to the men and told them, with a hand gesture, to go.

And here’s the bit people (and by that I mean reporters/journalists who have covered the case) keep skipping over: being a public figure doesn’t strip you of your right to privacy the second you step outside, and in France that’s not just a vibe, it’s law. Article 9 of the French Civil Code gives everyone, famous or not, a right to respect for their private life, including the droit à l’image, the right to control the use of your own likeness. Public figures only lose that protection while they’re actually exercising their public role, a politician on the campaign trail, a film star at a premiere, and it becomes necessary to seek their permission again the moment they’re acting in a private capacity. That’s echoed at the European level too. The European Court of Human Rights has already ruled, in Von Hannover v Germany, that a public figure’s ordinary daily life, as distinct from their official duties, is still protected under Article 8 of the ECHR.

Fashion Week doesn’t put Hudson “on duty” round the clock, and stepping out of a car outside your own front door isn’t a public appearance. It’s just living.

PA Media at The Guardian:

US Open broadcasters have been asked not to show any negative crowd reactions to Donald Trump at Sunday’s men’s final. The president is expected to attend the match between Jannik Sinner and Carlos Alcaraz in New York, with security at Flushing Meadows being heightened in preparation. Trump used to be a regular visitor to the US Open but has not been to the tournament since 2015, a year before he was elected president for the first time, when he was booed by spectators. An email sent to broadcasters by organisers reveals that the 79-year-old will be shown on screen during the singing of the national anthem ahead of the match. The message adds: “We ask all broadcasters to refrain from showing any disruptions or reactions in response to the president’s attendance in any capacity.”

Censorship never begins with book burnings. It begins with discomfort. A scene that unsettles you, a pairing that challenges your sensibilities, a work of fiction that you feel shouldn’t exist and then a call to remove it “for the greater good.”

But the truth is stark: censorship is a slippery slope, and once you justify silencing one creative expression, you’ve justified silencing them all. This is why proshipping — fandom’s broad label for supporting the right to create and explore any ship, even problematic or taboo — is not just a niche opinion. It’s a bulwark against moral absolutism and authoritarian thought-policing.

In the sprawling ecosystem of fan-created content, few warning systems have achieved the elegant simplicity and cultural resonance of "dead dove do not eat." Born from a single Arrested Development sight gag and evolved into one of fandom's most effective content warnings, this tag represents a masterclass in community-driven communication that deserves serious recognition.

The tag originates from Arrested Development's brilliantly absurd visual joke: Michael Bluth opens a paper bag clearly labeled "DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT," finds exactly what was promised, and declares with exasperation, "I don't know what I expected." This moment of perfect comedic timing became something far more significant when adopted by fandom communities; it transformed into a philosophical statement about personal responsibility and informed consent in content consumption.

April 2025:

Sports interviews have been on my mind because I think we underestimate what a good question can do.

The right one can make a driver, journalist, team principal, or young racer feel less like a quote machine and more like a person with stakes, contradictions, and a world around them. The wrong one can flatten access into content — or worse, into a billboard.

This week’s FaceTime is my argument for better questions in sports journalism, especially in Formula 1: more specificity, more follow-ups, more curiosity about who gets left out and what power is hiding.

Access is not the same as journalism. If the interview is a bridge, we should probably stop using it like ad space.