the Oasis

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley probably didn’t set out to write about the most important lesson journalists seem to not always think about. But her masterpiece still bests every other piece of writing about journalistic responsibility.

By Scott Morgan, Managing Editor,
Oct. 5, 2025

National press outlets have an enviable-yet-loathsome ability to create narratives. This is largely influenced by economy of scale.

A less egghead way of saying that is: CNN gots da money and da money gots da floor.

As discussed in a different post (this one, if you’re curious), stories that end up in the press are, often enough, stories that stem from someone in public relations trying to get ink. However cynically some might disparage the press, remember, our imprimatur lends credibility and weight to a topic. This is especially pronounced when the outlet is one of large-scale reach and influence.

It’s why we piss people off so much. If the press didn’t actually matter, as some critics say, then no one would care enough about what we say to get pissed off.

So what does this have to do with Victor Frankenstein? He certainly wasn’t the first person to create a monster.

Well, it has to do with Victor Frankenstein because it’s a solid bet that when I said ‘monster,’ you thought of the guy with the neck bolts.

You can be forgiven for thinking the monster is the guy. He certainly sounds monstrous — a patchwork quilt of body parts and tatty clothes who likes chucking 9-year-olds in flower ponds.

And, actually, the relationship between randomly assembled parts and Frankenstein’s monster is so ingrained that a trio of communications professors published a paper in the journal Information, Communication & Society in 2016 that referred to the growth of news pieces stitched together from all over the internet as ‘Frankenstein journalism.’

I’m not sure if that’s a complete misunderstanding of the actual monster or just an acquiescence to commonly shared perceptions in order to make a point.

Either way, it missed the more contextualized truth: The guy is not the monster.

(And neither is society, by the way.)

Frankenstein’s monster is his parental irresponsibility.

So let’s revisit the opening sentence of this essay: National press outlets have an enviable-yet-loathsome ability to create narratives.

It’s enviable because outlets like CNN, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, have immediate, international reach. What they report gets into the eyes and ears of millions, in the time it takes to read this sentence.

It’s loathsome because major outlets have a terrifying propensity towards creating a narrative that sends smaller outlets scrambling to find local angles and fire off breathless op-ed columns in support or defense, and then stepping back and saying, ‘We’re just covering the story.’

The monster is the divorce from responsibility for their creations. It rears up hardest when a news outlet’s output is wrapped in the cloak of public service.

Even when the outcome is benign, the creation of narrative is far too volatile a thing to rationalize. Narrative takes care and nurturing. It can’t be something created and then let loose without understanding the consequences.

This doesn’t only happen by intentionality. It also happens via selection bias — when a news reporter publishes a story that is, in itself, accurate and not incorrect, per se, but is, ultimately, not providing the proper context.

I am guilty of this myself. I recently published a story for another news outlet, about how Florida’s affordable housing model might offer South Carolina some lessons on how to better fund and expand housing options.

I was informed that I’d missed an important point of context: South Carolina’s way of funding housing initiatives is fundamentally different than Florida’s. How money is disperse in Florida is different than how it is dispersed here (the South Carolina Housing & Finance Authority receives money through the state Legislature to fund projects; in Florida, funds go to various initiatives more directly).

Aspiring to be more like Florida when it comes to affordable housing initiatives is fine. Thinking that Florida is the only model to emulate. however, is selection bias. And by not providing more context, my original story on this anoints Florida as the model to emulate; whereas in reality, there are other models that could be explored just as eagerly.

Another layer to the monster this feeds is, contemporary journalism has lost its feedback platforms. Partially, this is due to the fact that there are few public affairs segments in broadcast news anymore, and few print outlets that provide equal space to further contextualize stories through pubic feedback.

But another part is journalistic cowardice; the fear of being spoken to.

But this is journalism. Public feedback is vital, provided it is properly contextualized. Journalists are not (supposed to be) here to coddle you, nor offend you, nor provide an unrestricted platform for your agenda. But we are (supposed to be) required to listen. If we keep using words like ‘fearless’ to describe our organizations, we need to listen just as fearlessly as we talk.

Contemporary journalism has become a series of one-way conversations. Which is public relations, not journalism. When news outlets speak without leaving themselves open to be spoken to, we become advocates for our positions and our personal platforms.

In other words, we create something, then put it into the world, and then divorce ourselves from the impact of what we say.

Ms. Shelley warned us of the dangers of creating monsters. It behooves us with the privilege (the gift, really) of having the public platform to listen.