A lesson in dealing with the press

As a journalist, I'm used to dealing with my fair share of disagreement and confrontation. I don't like it, but I take it as part of my job. Receiving complaints about your own work serves to make you a better journalist - only if you know you have done the best possible job, been thorough and accurate, and your work is important to the local community, can you confidently defend yourself against complaints.

Unfortunately, sometimes it does not matter how well you write, nor how good your intentions are. Some people are simply determined to find fault; to see you in the same way they see a ruthless, uncaring hack from a national tabloid. Despite the fact that local papers are clearly different in their approach, their tone and their coverage, there is sometimes nothing you can do to change people's fear of - and even anger at - journalists.

This week provided a prime example in our office. There are just two of us working on a weekly paper covering a very large area. In recent months, we have been covering a story about changes to the way one of our local high schools is run. This week, my colleague had arranged to go up to the school and speak to the headteacher for an update on the progress, so we could keep the community informed.

When she got there, the headteacher had called in her deputy head, the chairman of governors and the guy in charge of the school's business contacts. My colleague sat down ready to hear about the school's progress - and was immediately subjected to what can only be described as a tirade of abuse.

The staff accused the newspaper of having grudge against their school. They said we worked actively to try to discredit the school and to promote the three others in our district instead. My colleague - who has run the office for the past two years - pointed out that, due to the restrictions on resources now facing all newspapers, the schools which are best at promoting themselves will be the ones which are most frequently featured in any publication. It's a shame, but journalists simply don't have the time any more to be able to call or visit every school every week and ask if they have anything interesting happening. We rely on the schools keeping us informed - by telling us of individual stories, or even just sending us their newsletters or magazines so we can pick out anything of interest.

However, this was, in the view of this particular high school, simply a cover-up. The real reason was clearly that we had set out to ruin them - and they had proof. They claimed someone "close to the school" had been in our office and overheard a conversation about where in the newspaper we would put a particular article about the school's success - ending with us saying we would bury it as close to the back as possible.

There are two problems with the school's story here. Firstly, it's absolutely not true. That conversation never took place because we would never say that about any school, and if we were ever to have such a discussion about anything we would certainly wait until there was nobody else in the office. Secondly - and most ridiculously - the article in question appeared on the front page. When my colleague pointed out this inconsistency, she was shouted down with more cries of bias and agenda.

At one stage, my colleague said she was not prepared to be bullied when she had set out in the hope of writing a positive, informative story, and she intended to leave. The headteacher's response? "Now, that wouldn't be very productive, would it?" I wonder how productive she thought the meeting had been so far.

Through the whole discussion, the newspaper was accused of bias, of having an agenda against the school, of only ever printing negative stories about the school while printing positive stories about all its competitors (aside - since when did schools turn into businesses?). At one stage, the deputy head said: "I find your newspaper very woolly, actually. I'm an English teacher and it's very badly written."

The meeting lasted an hour and a half, most of which involved my colleague trying desperately to defend the newspaper against a barrage of hatred while also hoping they might listen to her advice about promoting themselves more effectively. Eventually, she escaped and almost ran back to the office.

The whole thing completely baffles me. We wanted to do a good story in consultation with the school and the headteacher therefore invited us to come up for a chat. We were greeted by abuse, criticism and completely irrational allegations. What on earth did they think it would achieve?

The most ridiculous part about it is this was the second time they had done it to us. Last time, we had run a story about the school potentially being merged with another school nearby. The story was based on a press release from the local authority which said in plain English the merger was a possibility and we had confirmation from a local councillor, who was also a governor at the school. It had been run by several other newspapers nearby before we went to print and, naturally, we included comments from the school - which were so vague as to be absolutely useless.

Following publication, my colleague was summoned to the headteacher's office where she was met by the head and about six other members of staff and governors. She was told exactly how wrong the story was, despite her attempts to explain the laws of journalism in relation to printing information from local authorities. Having invited her up initially on the pretext of trying to improve links between the school and the newspaper, they kept her there to endure their anger for four hours.

The upshot of these two meetings? We will continue doing exactly what we have been doing up to now - with one major difference. We will print whatever we have, about any school, based on its news value. We will continue to publish stories which are important to the community and act responsibly in our positions.

We will not, however, be visiting Unnamed High School again. Ever. Congratulations, Ms B.

Review: The Men Who Stare at Goats

Welcome to review two, in an irregular series of... well, two so far. Depends how many times I go to the cinema and see something worth writing about.

Anyway, this week's choice of film was The Men Who Stare at Goats, starring Ewan McGregor, George Clooney and Kevin Spacey, among others. I was not particularly enthusiastic about seeing the film in the first place, having not heard a great deal about it, but I was certainly glad I gave in to the nagging and agreed to go.

It begins, as all good films should, with a journalist - in this case, one whose wife has just left him for another man. Faced with sitting in the same office as his ex and the man she fell for, he instead decides to prove his credentials and head for the dangers of reporting in Iraq.

Having seen a plot summary before going to the cinema, I did worry this film might attempt to make some sort of political point about the war, leaving me thinking harder than ought to be allowed on a Saturday evening. But it never came even remotely close to doing so, except through ridiculing the more bizarre approaches of the armed forces.

The Men Who Stare at Goats is a truly silly film - it is pointless, lacking any real climax and does rather labour some of its jokes. But I found it delightfully daft. I even understood some of the Jedi jokes, despite having never seen a Star Wars film. The entire concept is completely bizarre, but if you stick with it, it's well worth the perseverance; I haven't laughed as much at a film in a very long time.

Although it will never be a classic, The Men Who Stare at Goats is an entertaining watch and a fun way to spend 90 minutes (a good length for a film, I always think). Don't go expecting Saving Private Ryan - but do go expecting more than a few Jedi-related jokes as McGregor looks on innocently. And, as you leave, remember - this film is adapted from a book. That book was based on a true story. Scary.

Find out more about the film here.

Action in the face of inaction

It seems there's something in the water supplying the headquarters of various unions at the moment.

Following several weeks of bin strikes in Leeds and some industrial action at Royal Mail centres elsewhere, things look set to escalate.

Postal workers look likely to extend their strike nationally at the end of the week, while firefighters in South Yorkshire take to the picket lines in a 24-hour strike from tomorrow. Meanwhile, the refuse workers are still out and, despite finally returning to the table, Leeds City Council looks likely to have its improved offer rejected.

But who is to blame for this sudden outpouring of workplace dissatisfaction? Is it simply down to worker greed - the unions firing up individuals to collectively pronounce they deserve more than they are currently getting?

Or is it the companies' fault for stretching, pushing and squeezing their workers beyond all reasonable measure in order to show shareholders the biggest possible profit?

Taking the postal strike as an example, I broke a story last year about postal workers being forced to cover four miles an hour while carrying and delivering their rounds. It was later picked up by national media, showing this was not a policy implemented on a local level. That story first emerged 18 months ago, since when there have been further cuts and closures putting further pressure on the postmen.

And it's not just the problems of the job they have to deal with. As the frontline workers, they bear the brunt of customers' frustrations when, in reality, there is precious little they can do about it. Victoria Cohen put it brilliantly in a piece for the Guardian today.

The postmen's plight is nothing new. Across the country, workers are bearing the brunt of bad management by those whose goal is profit above all else. The newspaper industry is a prime example of this, particularly for local and regional titles. Their owners have pursued impressive figures at the expense of all else - including the quality of their product. Losing sight of what their businesses are all about, they have made editorial staff redundant, put up prices, refused to replace departing staff and piled on a mountain of additional tasks for the already struggling staff to deal with.

The result of this? Morale is at an all-time low. Workers have lost faith in their employers. Sales are plummeting, causing advertising revenue to fall even further than it would have naturally in a recession.

And frontline staff are left trying to explain to readers why there is nobody available to go to the parish council meeting, to review the local amateur dramatics society's latest production, to attend the opening of a new school - or to hold business and council leaders to account for failing to resolve workers' dissatisfaction and avert the threat of strikes.