Nothing but the truth

During my journalism studies, I loved getting my teeth into ethics discussions, so after watching Ron Lurie’s 2008 film Nothing but the Truth, I couldn't resist giving my two cents' worth.

The film is allegedly inspired by the Plame Affair in the U.S. where New York Times reporter Judith Miller was jailed for refusing to reveal the identity of a government source before a jury. And being titled Nothing but the truth, you would be forgiven for assuming the film is centered on credibility. Well, let’s see.

To give it its dues, it is well acted, and it was a compelling plot initially until I twigged the identity of the source Rachel Armstrong (Kate Beckinsale) was protecting.

The film features the life of journalist Rachel Armstrong, a young mother who exposed the identity of a covert CIA operative living locally, Erica van Doren (Vera Farmiga). Armstrong is immediately hounded by Special Prosecutor for the FBI, Patton Dubois (Matt Dillon), and arrested. Pressure mounts on Armstrong to reveal her source; she categorically refuses and continues to do so in subsequent court trials, resulting in her indefinite imprisonment.

You might nitpick about minor far-fetched aspects. For example, while writing her whistle-blowing epic due for publication the following morning, Armstrong is told by her editor Bonnie (Angela Bassett) to go home and get ”a good night’s sleep," prompting what I’m sure would be raucous guffaws by journalist viewers across the world.

You might also ask how Armstrong, as a high-flying political columnist working a national desk in Washington D.C., has time to volunteer at her son’s school as a chaperone, such as when the infamous tattling occurred.

But my main gripe is with the tattler and elusive source in the plot being van Doren’s young daughter. Not a vigilante. Not a criminal mastermind or a whistle-blowing government insider, a little girl who misheard something she shouldn’t have.

Worth going to prison for?

Armstrong clearly has deep-rooted principles, as she should as a respectable journalist. We all know the golden rule: you do not burn a source. If we cannot be trusted to protect a source, investigative journalism wouldn’t exist and there would be no such thing as a free press. Lawful prosecution of journalists (the Espionage Act of 1917 and the Intelligence Identities Protection Act) and risks to national security make this a murky subject of discussion, but in principle, Armstrong is right to stick to her guns. However, as the film wore on and the stakes grew higher, I began wincing.

Because just how deep do these ethics run? Armstrong uses the information given to her by a child to knowingly expose that child’s mother to disgrace, interrogation, family disruption, and eventual murder. She then spends months in jail, destroying her marriage and neglecting her own son by protecting the identity—not necessarily the welfare—of a child she barely knows.

I get it. Lurie has to overstate the point to make his point, and what better way to test Armstrong’s journalistic integrity than to have her family turn against her. But the twist lacks substance: we eventually discover that Armstrong is protecting a child who, given her age and lack of malicious intent, probably wouldn’t even qualify for prosecution. On the contrary, at such a young age the child would more than likely qualify for court protection.

By keeping Alison’s identity secret, Armstrong does protect her from being linked with her mother’s murder. Publically in any case. Let's face it, it's unlikely that Alison will escape the knowledge that the lady she chatted to about her Mom on a school bus then wrote a story that led to her mother's murder.

So. Knowing Alison, and knowing the stakes, should Armstrong just have left well alone? Insert new ethics discussion here.