DeFede’s punishment too harsh

I hope this column is outdated by the time you read it.

Ordinarily, it is the bane of a columnist’s existence, the fear that his words will become obsolete between the time of his writing and your reading. But in this case, that would be the happiest possible outcome, because it would mean Jim DeFede had his job back.

That he lost it in the first place is a travesty.

You know the story by now. Wednesday of last week DeFede, metro columnist for the Miami Herald, took a call from a friend, former Miami City Commissioner Arthur E. Teele Jr. Teele, already under indictment on numerous corruption charges, was facing further humiliation from the imminent publication of an article in the Miami New Times, that alleged dealings with drug dealers, crooked contractors and transvestite prostitutes. (Editor’s note: Jim DeFede is a former reporter for The Spokesman-Review.)

DeFede was worried about Teele; his friend sounded on the verge of cracking up. So he quietly hit the record button on his tape recorder. There should be a record of this conversation, he thought. They talked for 25 minutes.

A little later, Teele called again. Moments after this second call he shot himself to death in the Herald’s lobby. Hours later, DeFede was out of work.

Herald executive editor Tom Fiedler and publisher Jesus Diaz Jr. say they fired DeFede because it is a violation of Florida law – and journalistic ethics – to tape a phone conversation without the consent of both parties. The argument is not convincing.

It is unclear whether DeFede actually did break the law – I’ve seen conflicting assessments – though if he did, it’s probably a misdemeanor at best. But the law is not the point. New York Times reporter Judith Miller has run afoul of the law – she’s in jail for contempt of court after refusing to identify an anonymous source – and many journalists regard her as a hero. So the simple fact of being on a court’s or a cop’s bad side is hardly de-facto proof that one is unfit for duty as a reporter.

As for ethics: what DeFede did was certainly a violation of journalistic standards. He deserved punishment. But he didn’t deserve “this” punishment.

Fiedler has said that any action short of firing would have sent the message that the Herald “tolerates” unethical behavior. I’m at a loss to understand how anyone could have taken that message from suspending DeFede and requiring a public apology as a condition of his return to work.

The message sent by DeFede’s firing is not one of intolerance for unethical behavior, but rather, one of robotic absolutism, the same unthinking tendency toward one-size-fits-all punishment that characterizes school principals who suspend children for bringing aspirin to school because it’s a violation of zero tolerance drug policies.

Put it another way. Suppose I kill somebody. Let’s say I plot a murder for financial gain. Or shoot an unfaithful lover in a jealous rage. Or accidentally run down a pedestrian who jumps out in front of my car.

In all three cases, the end result is the same: somebody dies. But the law treats the deaths differently, mandates a different range of responses to each, in recognition that the varying circumstances demand it. You don’t give the death penalty to someone who strikes down a careless pedestrian. You don’t give probation to a cold-blooded killer.

It is that recognition, that ability to weigh mitigating factors and come to reasonable conclusions, that is so conspicuously missing from the Herald’s treatment of DeFede. In a moment of great stress, he broke the rules. He did so not from malice, laziness, or a desire to hurt anyone. He owned up to his error.

And he gets fired?

There was no shortage of bad decisions that awful Wednesday night. Art Teele made the first and the worst. Then DeFede made one, followed by the Herald. But only one can be reversed and it should be.

Give the man his job back.