I am unhappy with Mr. Bragg. The New York Times reporter announced he'll be resigning from the paper, after a stinging correction on one of his stories brought his news-gathering methods into question.
Rick Bragg is a great writer. His collection of news stories, "Somebody Told Me," is full of stories that resound with grace and good-ole-fashion Southern charm. But his reactions to the correction have been egotistical, slanted and undo virtually all of my positive feelings toward the man.
(Follow this all on Romenesko for details. I'd link more extensively, but it's late and I'm irritated.)
To pass off an uncredited stringer's work as your own, when that person contributed significantly to a story, is wrong. I don't care if it's institutional policy not to give that credit (Mr. Bragg claimed that was the case, the NY Times says not quite). It's still wrong.
If you dedicate yourself to the craft and art and backbreaking toil of shaping words, but you don't understand that, then I don't understand you.
Write what you know. Write what you know. Write what you know. That's the mantra. Journalism, by definition, is writing what we know. It's writing what we find out. It's writing what we experience. It's telling the truth.
Skimming off someone else's quotes and experiences and wrapping it in homespun verbiage ain't writin' what you know. And it's not journalism. It's doubtful you could call it art -- or even expression. It's an attempt by a person to be someone he or she isn't.
I don't know Rick Bragg's story. I don't know what personal factors may have motivated him to act the way he did. I hope that, if indeed he has medical problems that hinder travel (as he's said), he rests and gets medical help. I wish the same for Jayson Blair, who seems to have struggled with depression.
But the work is separate and must ultimately be judged on its own. Mr. Bragg has not been honest with us. He has not been a journalist.