The iconic motto of The New York Times, “All the News That’s Fit to Print,” first appeared not within the newspaper itself, but rather as a bold declaration amidst the bustling cityscape of 1896 New York. This phrase, conceived by Adolph S. Ochs shortly after acquiring the struggling “quality” newspaper, was initially showcased on an electric billboard at the Cumberland Hotel. This pioneering electric sign, illuminated with thousands of lights, spelled out a powerful message:
NEW-YORK TIMES
ALL THE NEWS
THAT’S FIT TO PRINT
SUNDAY
MAGAZINE
SUPPLEMENT
HAVE YOU SEEN IT?
This public display was more than just advertising; it was a deliberate statement of intent. Ochs aimed to differentiate the Times from the dominant newspapers of the era, Joseph Pulitzer’s New York World and William Randolph Hearst’s New York Journal. These competitors were known for “yellow journalism,” a sensationalist style characterized by vivid illustrations, attention-grabbing headlines, and an emphasis on crime, scandal, and emotionally charged human-interest stories. In today’s terms, this approach might be likened to “clickbait” or even “fake news.”
The New York Times’ first electric billboard in 1896, displaying the now-famous motto “All the News That’s Fit to Print,” marking a clear distinction from sensationalist journalism.
The “All the News That’s Fit to Print” slogan quickly became a cornerstone of the Times‘ identity, championed across editorials, letters, columns, and even parade signs. The newspaper dedicated significant editorial space to promoting this ethos. An unsigned editorial from November 15, 1896, articulated the philosophy: “There is an abundance of news in the world without descending to that which is not fit to print, news of wholesome human interest, that is neither a contamination nor a waste of time to read.” This statement clearly positioned the Times as a purveyor of responsible, high-quality journalism, distinct from the sensationalism of its rivals.
The Times actively sought to shape public opinion, confidently asserting the viability of quality journalism. As the Montreal Herald noted on January 7, 1897, “It certainly seems incredible that the fake journalism of which The New York World and The New York Journal are the most conspicuous exponents should leave no market for journalism of a sounder and better class.” This external validation reinforced the Times‘ commitment to its chosen path.
Over time, the media landscape evolved, and the Times achieved a position of prominence, becoming an indispensable read for those in power and influence. This unchallenged status perhaps led to a period where the Times didn’t feel the need to explicitly defend its principles. Its place within the American power structure was secure, and its importance seemed self-evident. However, this era of unchallenged dominance, much like Ochs’s original billboard, is now a thing of the past.
The recent global events, including pandemics and widespread social unrest, have exposed societal divisions and highlighted the critical importance of reliable information. The stakes in the battle for public understanding – regarding trust, crisis management, and the very nature of truth – are exceptionally high. Debates surrounding crucial issues, such as pandemic responses, are not merely partisan disagreements; they are matters of life and death, hinging on the acceptance of science, factual accuracy, and expert knowledge over politically motivated agendas.
In this climate, presenting unsubstantiated claims or conspiracy theories without challenge is no longer tenable. The example of a Times report on a Texas lockdown protest, which included right-wing figure Alex Jones’s false pronouncements on COVID-19, illustrates the dangers of “both sides” coverage when one side is demonstrably false. On issues with clear factual answers, such approaches are not only irresponsible but also detrimental to public discourse.
While acknowledging the Times‘ dedication to investigative journalism and fact-checking, it’s crucial to recognize the distinction between performing important work and effectively communicating its significance. In today’s media environment, where misinformation spreads rapidly, the inability to clearly articulate one’s values and purpose leaves an organization vulnerable to external narratives, as evidenced by frequent criticisms and labels.
The Times‘ recent advertising campaigns, such as the “Truth” campaign, reflect a struggle to define its position in this evolving landscape. The initial iteration, emphasizing that “the truth is hard,” seemed hesitant to take a firm stance, potentially diluting its core principles in an attempt to avoid appearing partisan. Ironically, an executive involved in the campaign even questioned the very existence of objective truth, a viewpoint more aligned with figures like Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg, who has expressed reluctance to define truth, than with the definitive stance of Adolph S. Ochs.
The subsequent campaign, “The Truth Is Worth It,” shifted focus from the inherent value of truth to the value of a New York Times subscription, further distancing itself from the assertive clarity of “All the News That’s Fit to Print.”
Looking back to 1901, the Times credited its motto with eliminating the “indecencies” and “reckless sensationalism” prevalent in yellow journalism. In its fiftieth-anniversary self-assessment, the paper declared the motto a more effective purifier of journalism than any censor.
As society grapples with twin pandemics – a viral outbreak and a pandemic of misinformation fueled by financial incentives – perhaps it is time for the Times to re-emphasize not just “all the news,” but to resolutely champion “what is fit to print.” Reclaiming the original spirit of its motto would serve as a powerful statement in an era desperately in need of journalistic clarity and integrity.
