Scoop. In that single, unattractive syllable is encapsulated all the romance and glamour remaining in the tattered, down-at-heels trade known as journalism. Most journalism is glorified stenography. You spend your time transcribing other people’s words, chronicling other people’s deeds, more or less as dictated by these other people or, more often, by their “spokespersons” — and then suddenly, through ingenuity or blind luck or a little of both, along comes a SCOOP, the journalistic equivalent of redemption.
What is a scoop? It’s information dug up by you, or entrusted specifically to you — information that some people or many people want hidden, but which will reach the public through you. A vast number of news stories make up a news year, but when the year is done, it’s the scoops we remember. Dacapo celebrates the scoops of 2006.
Scoop of the year, winner of the Japan Association of Newspaper Publishers and Editors Editorial Division Award was the Nihon Keizai Shimbun’s report in July of a private memo purportedly recording the late Emperor Showa’s displeasure over Yasukuni Shrine’s 1978 decision to enshrine 14 Cass A war criminals.
The memo, written by former Imperial Household Agency chief Tomohiko Tomita, quotes the Emperor as remarking in April 1988: “That’s why I haven’t paid a visit to the shrine since then.”
“Over a long period of time,” Dacapo quotes an admiring journalist as commenting, “Nihon Keizai Shimbun reporter Ryo Inoue built up a relationship of trust with the Tomita family. The result of his untiring effort was the unearthing of material of historic significance.”
That is scarcely an exaggeration, the issue of prime ministerial visits to the shrine having bulked so large in Japan’s relations with its Asian neighbors over the past five years. Still, the revelation of a split between Emperor and shrine did not stop former Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi from paying the last of five consecutive annual visits last year — and on Aug. 15, the anniversary of Japan’s surrender, to boot. It could, though, give Prime Minister Shinzo Abe a pretext, if he wants one, for quietly turning his back on Yasukuni.
Scoops by their very nature tend to be bad news. They remind us of dark currents beneath the placid surface, and if we have any optimism left at all, it’s only because scoops are in relatively short supply. One of the more devastating scoops on Dacapo’s list is credited to the Mainichi Shimbun and concerns the alleged murder in April of a 9-year-old Akita girl by her mother.
Initial news reports had it that the girl had accidentally drowned. Mainichi’s coverage team, sensing something missing in the police briefings, talked to neighbors and family acquaintances and confronted police with what they had learned. Only then did investigators divulge statements allegedly made by the mother suggesting the drowning was not accidental. The scoop appeared in the Mainichi’s July 14 evening edition.
Given a choice between an ordinary story and a “scoop,” what reader wouldn’t choose the scoop? The weekly magazines, Tokyo Confidential’s prime sources, credit themselves with scoop after exclamatory scoop. One of the weekly Shukan Gendai’s concerned a “terrorist hijacking” of East Japan Railways. What if the hijacking is purely metaphorical, a colorful description of an administrative clash? “East Japan Railways has a staff of 65,000 and is used by 16 million passengers a day,” says editor Haruyuki Kato, explaining the story’s importance.
Sometimes a kiss is a scoop, as when TBS-TV newscaster Mona Yamamoto and Democratic Party of Japan Diet member Goshi Hosono incautiously indulged in a by-no-means casual one last fall within view of a camera wielded by the entertainment weekly Friday. Why should we care? “Nowadays,” observes Friday editor Kazuchika Dasuze, “newscasters have more influence than entertainers.” Of politicians, interestingly enough, he says nothing.