There's no reason to trust news based solely on unnamed sources granted anonymity for no good reason

Journalists are asking readers to have faith in them while providing fewer and fewer grounds to do so

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(Editor’s note: I’m travelling this week, as I was last week and have a number of things on the go. But rather than not fulfill my duties to subscribers, here’s a piece that first appeared in The Hub. Thanks for your patience and support.)

If I spun you a tale about my life as a mercenary in the 2012 Guinea-Bissau coup d’etat, I’d probably get your attention.

It would be a ripping good yarn, filled with evil masterminds, hints of Bond villains, precious relics, and blood diamonds. I might even sprinkle it with how I’d heard that the Ark of the Covenant is guarded quietly and stored in Nokolo-Koba National Park, not far from the Gambia River.

You might enjoy it. But I’m thinking you might ask for proof. Trust me, I would say, it’s not something I’m at liberty to discuss freely. Loose lips sink ships, these boys don’t like publicity, I’m not authorized, I wish to speak freely, etc. You’re going to have to put your faith in me.

Which, while I used hyperbole to make the point, is what the nation’s reporters are increasingly asking the public to do.

The once rare use of unnamed sources in the new “just trust me” world of Canadian journalism is getting out of control.

Exhibit A is a National Post story posted on May 23 in which readers learn of changes in the Prime Minister’s Office where staff are now expected to dress professionally and show up on time. In other words, a return to what most people would view as normal office decorum. Yes, you might wonder—as I did—why this constitutes news while the previous nine years’ shabbily-attired tardiness went unreported, but that would involve a significant digression. Another day, perhaps.

The sources were “half a dozen current and former PMO officials, senior bureaucrats and caucus members,” granted anonymity “to discuss internal workings of government openly.”

Two are “former” Liberal staffers, which makes one wonder if they might bear a grudge and what their motivations are. There is not a single named source in the story, nor is there any reference to the Post having asked the current management of the PMO for comment.

Exhibit B is the May 14 analysis on the pages of the Globe and Mail, which explains the thinking involved in selecting a finance minister. The thesis was based on “seven sources who have worked for Liberal and Conservative governments over the last two decades,” whose identities are being hidden “because they were not authorized by their parties to speak publicly about the federal finance minister.”

So you know, it was not that long ago when, if a reporter came to his editor to pitch a story like that, they would have been laughed out of the newsroom or, at the very least, instructed to include comments from people who are authorized. Because they exist.

In Exhibit C, CBC/Radio Canada uses no fewer than 12—count ’em—anonymous sources discussing whether party leader Pierre Poilievre should dismiss his chief of staff and recent campaign manager, Jenni Byrne. All were granted ”confidentiality to discuss internal party matters.”

To his credit, the reporter selected sources offering a variety of perspectives on the issue. But still, other than reference to public statements by Poilievre, no one is on the record even for passive phrases such as “No one seems ready to make this their hill to die on.” Are there no political scientists left to comment on such topics?

Surely getting something on the record would have added the needed “thump” to reinforce the story’s credibility and offer something better than a very broad “trust me” from the CBC. The Mother Corp. may trust the characters in this play. Without their names, I’m sorry, but I don’t.

The use of off-the-record sources can have great value. Recent examples include when deployed by the Globe in stories that prompted the China inquiry and, before that, Justin Trudeau’s efforts to bully Jody Wilson-Raybould into interfering in the course of justice.

But traditionally, sources were only granted anonymity if they faced some form of peril, such as loss of employment, criminal prosecution, or even physical harm. Unnamed sources are only a valuable tool in journalism, provided they are telling the (independently verified) truth and their motivations are not self-serving. Otherwise, if there’s any chance sources are just spilling gossip to enhance their own career prospects and damage their rivals—something that happens every 30 seconds or so in politics—they should be avoided.

“Sources” can also mislead reporters, as was done when the CBC reported in March that “sources with knowledge of plans of Carney’s team say he and some 15 to 20 cabinet members will be sworn in.”

That turned out to be incorrect, but the story still sits there, uncorrected. Every time that happens, the more suspicious people become of the news industry and its motivations.

If news organizations don’t care about levels of trust, they would do well to remember Arthur Kent’s successful lawsuit for a column in which his reputation was tarnished by unnamed sources, two of whom eventually had to testify.

The justice ruled in the case that Kent “suffered substantial distress and damage as a result of the defamatory factual statements in the article that were not saved by the defences of justification or responsible communications.”

Anyway, that’s how I see it. My sources tell me others have different interpretations. You’re just going to have to trust me on that.

(Peter Menzies is a commentator and consultant on media, Macdonald-Laurier Institute Senior Fellow, a past publisher of the Calgary Herald, a former vice chair of the CRTC and a National Newspaper Award winner.)