See the Sausage

If you work in a strip club long enough, you stop seeing the naughty bits.

They’re there of course, but the ubiquity of nudity becomes a forgotten fact of the job. If Rocco just got done doing lap dances and he swings over to his boss and asks her for a smoke break, she’s probably more annoyed that he’s taking revenue opportunities away than she cares about his man bits.

America has become a lot like this. There’s so much junk out there, so much sausage being made, that we’ve stopped paying attention. Our disregard most recently has wrought mass violence and state control of women’s bodies.

I’m not a political journalist. I am a food journalist. If a long journey begins with a first step, it is best to focus on what I really know. Anyone who’s read me, knows that I have long been concerned with ethical lapses in the food writing game. As vigilant as I am, I’ve kind of given up. I’ve accepted that influencers are a pay for play business, not an instrument of unbiased information. Let them eat their cake. I have accepted that freelancers without budgets trying to survive must take what they can get.

The slow drip of acquisition, of others and things, in my field, flooded my brain, eventually shutting down the whole area that questions these things. That is, until last week, when I saw, what even to the jaded version of me, seemed to be the most extraordinary thing.

One of the most powerful people in Chicago food media working for arguably the most high-profile media publication in Chicago, the Chicago Tribune, put out the following ask on Instagram:

I was dumbfounded, and not just because the Tribune food editor Ariel Cheung took the time to make this request spiffy with a background that looks like the top of one of those Pillsbury croissant dough veggie pizzas and cap it off with lovey/smiley emoji.

Did the Chicago Tribune food editor just use her implicit clout to publicly ask the industry she covers to donate food to a third-party organization that she’s president of to benefit her and 49 other journalists?

I don’t know Cheung personally. She succeeded me at CS Modern Luxury as a restaurant reviewer. I enjoyed reading her work. When she took over at the Tribune, she championed an editorial vision that goes beyond just reporting on the food, but instead uses food as a prism to examine wider issues like equality and access.

I’ve been an admirer. That made this social post incongruous for me. I reached out and asked her about the request. I also reached out to various publicists and chefs who I thought may have seen the request to see if anyone was participating/donating. No one would go on record, because (and this is part of the problem), they didn’t want to offend or get in any trouble with the Tribune.

What I know on background is that there were offers of donated food made last week, and that there were follow ups scheduled to discuss donations. I also know that people who thought about making offers and those who did all basically told me the same thing, something along the lines of “Of course I’m doing this. You have to.”

I don’t think Cheung is engaging in a quid pro quo, aka pay for play coverage. However, she must know that the power she has compels those she covers to be responsive to her. She has a responsibility to avoid securing benefits for herself personally or any organization she is a part of. In this case the request was for, in her words:

“… an advocacy picnic for journalists of color and queer journalists hosted between the Chicago chapters of the Asian American Journalists Association, the National Association of Black Journalists, the National Association of Hispanic Journalists and the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association.” 

Cheung is the president of the Chicago chapter of the Asian American Journalists Association.

I used to be a long time Tribune freelancer, and as such was subject to and familiar with its ethics policies. They rung in my head as I read Cheung’s Instagram request. Here are a few germane passages from the policy:

“To further avoid conflicts, staffers should not use their position or the name of the newspaper to gain advantage in personal activities.”

“Certainly, editorial employees must never solicit people, companies or foundations covered by the newspaper for cash contributions or any other kind of assistance.”

“No merchandise, cash, services or anything else of value should be solicited. Unsolicited merchandise whose value exceeds that of a key chain will be donated to charity by the newspaper.”

The last one was always my favorite. I wondered how the Trib settled on a keychain as an arbiter of value.

Cheung did not invoke the Trib’s name, or her editorial role, but like my background sources said, it’s inherent that when Cheung makes the request, everyone knows her power and the opportunity she could provide.

Cheung did solicit people covered by her beat. She did it generally of course, not specifically. She also solicited something of value on behalf of other journalists. The cash value is debatable, but if you assume $10 a head per journalist meal, which probably represents $20 of retail value for the restaurant donor, the total value would be somewhere between $500 and $1000. I’m just assuming one donation. The request could result in multiple donors and varying value.

When I reached out to Cheung on Monday, I asked her if she thought this request represented an ethical lapse. She would not comment directly about that, or her motivations, so I can only speculate on them.

Like I said, my assumption is this is not quid pro quo. I fundamentally believe the organizations had a picnic and Cheung was like, hey this is a good cause, something I believe in, let me use my contacts to help the organization out.

Even if there’s no pay for play, assume someone gives you $500 or $1000 dollars. Let’s say a year later they ask you to do a favor. Are you more likely to help them than you would a random person? Might you subconsciously choose to cover them as an editor in the future? The answers to those questions are likely, yes, which creates improper or unfair access.

If you don’t care or believe there’s an ethical breach here, there’s still a simpler human issue in play. The beneficiaries of the request are journalists from groups that have been traditionally marginalized. Journalists of color have told us that the problem with our current society is that those in power are not sensitive to the needs of the marginalized and that they exploit these groups.

And yet, actors from these very groups are approaching a community besieged by a pandemic, restaurants struggling financially. They’re dangling a potential coverage opportunity (indirectly, but it absolutely feels implicit, especially to a struggling business) in exchange for free stuff. Those who implore sensitivity also need to have a personal sensitivity to the communities they cover.

Guess who’s likely not making a donation of food for 50 journalists? A small mom and pop restaurant, often run by immigrants and BIPOC folk, treading water. It’s more likely, the food donation would come from a well-heeled restaurant group led by white people who have mastered the art of buying access.

A non-food journalist member of the organizations involved in the picnic should have made the donation request. Better yet, the journalism groups in question should collect dues from their members and allocate those dues for their events. They should compensate the communities they cover for services rendered, just as those food businesses should consider paying for online or print media in return. The success of what we want as a society depends on us respecting and awarding things the value they deserve.

Though the request was made by Cheung, the food donation did not actually occur. I reached out on Monday morning of this week to ask about the initial request. Cheung and I exchanged a few emails. I asked her specific questions about whether she thought the request was ethical. Two days later she responded in an email on record saying, “The organizations hosting the event will not be accepting donated food. The Chicago Tribune will cover the cost of food for the event.” I asked why the organizations were no longer accepting donated food, but there was no comment.

I respect Cheung and I appreciate her contributions to our community. This is not about a person. It is however a crystallizing incident, where the lapses are no longer just being performed by the usual bad actors secretly or quietly. My desire to write about this is about challenging a system and a culture that has moved so far away from community values, that even well-intended people begin to see the normalization of bad behavior as a standard they perform publicly.

This effect infects not just media, but everything surrounding it. I talked to a lot of people before writing this piece. I spoke with food journalists, PR folks, chefs, restauranteurs, and good friends who have nothing to do with journalism. All of them either shrugged, or said, no one cares anymore. Some told me not to write it. And that’s the problem. We absolutely need to start seeing and questioning the junk, or we’re sunk.

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