A recent article in "The Washington Post" discussed the dilemma of what some call the new variation on bowdlerization, the "unpublishing" of blogs and archived material available to the general public on the internet.
The Post article discussed a case involving a chief deputy for the U.S. Marshals Service who had been charged with indecent exposure in a fast food restaurant over twenty years ago. As it turned out, the whole incident apparently was innocent enough: an inadvertent exhibition of the genitals as a result of having forgotten to wear an athletic supporter while out for a jog. The case was dismissed. However, The Post never reported this happy ending; the paper had only published a story covering the bringing of charges.
These charges were subsequently expunged, reinstating an exemplary public record to the deputy. Unfortunately, the deputy soon learned that the ghosts in the machine had not been exorcised: Recently, when he applied for a job to supplement his retirement, prospective employers Googled his name and found the original stories discussing the indecent exoposure charges. The deputy was forced to ask The Post to make the stories disappear, there being no other recourse apparently, as the court records had been expunged years before.
Who is to judge the fairness of such requests? The aforementioned request to unpublish certainly appears fair. But if we all were such good judges, we would not need a legal system. How does one deal with requests to unpublish by individuals who simply are upset about their grammar during an interview, or who had that one misdemeanor infraction many years ago? A friendly webmaster or local editor might be more obliging to a friend or family member when it comes to granting these requests for clean-up along the information super highway; others might not be so lucky.
At the very least, this brings home the need for a paper to be unbiased and, even more difficult, complete in its reporting. The media need to publish stories not just about the charges, but also the outcome of any investigation or trial once the justice system has digested the facts. Often, these stories will be less sensational; but they may prove essential in terms of demonstrating to the world the innocence of the protagonist.
I have known of individuals who have been unpublished because web content has been deemed offensive or inappropriate. But these stories, no matter whether they are offensive are not, are a part of that imperfect collection of ravings and research that has become the world wide web. Their presence defines not only who the author is, but what society is.
This is something beyond the first amendment; it is beyond our time, and thus our history.
