To preempt a potentially embarrassing libel trial, NBC News paid more than half a million dollars to Richard A. Jewell, the falsely accused suspect in the Atlanta Summer Olympics bombing. But NBC never did issue a retraction or apology, or acknowledge that it went too far when Tom Brokaw reported that the FBI was close to "making the case" against Jewell and "they probably have enough to arrest him right now." I asked Bill Wheatley, NBC's respected vice president for news, how come. He replied, "Jewell's lawyers were more interested in money than an apology."
 Having agreed to pay Jewell, NBC owed its viewers an admission that its reporting went over the edge. But news organizations are notoriously reluctant to go public with their own mistakes, even though they are quick to point accusatory fingers and demand that others do so. How many times has the press insisted that Bill Clinton and Newt Gingrich come clean with the facts concerning their own alleged improprieties? "The press has a great double standard," says Steven Brill, chairman of American Lawyer Media. "We spend most of the day holding everyone else accountable but when it comes to holding ourselves accountable . . . most of us are a bunch of hypocrites." Brill's company not only issues prompt and prominent corrections but also identifies the editors and reporters who are to blame. His is the rare exception.

 When I was at NBC News a decade ago, we tried to launch a weekly series of news segments with the late Bill Monroe as correspondent, videotaping complaints of viewers who had legitimate gripes about our news reports. The producers and anchors so resented having to put those spots in their shows that they made a successful end run around the management; the programs invariably ran out of time before the viewer complaints could air. Our effort to produce a decent television version of letters-to-the-editor died a premature death.

 Eager to play "gotcha" with others but unable to admit error when their own credibility is challenged, journalists are seen by the public as arrogant, insensitive, and holier-than-thou. What accounts for the stubborn reluctance of newspeople to admit they make mistakes? One veteran newsman, John McMillan, retired president and publisher of the Utica, New York, Observer-Dispatch, offers this explanation: "As an editor, I found the problem intense and deeply rooted. I never figured out why. Perhaps it pertains to the quick-and-dirty nature of much journalism, where practitioners are defensive about knowing they are being less than thorough."

 There's a simple and inexpensive, if at times painful way for news organizations to improve their credibility and their public image: make it a practice to own up to mistakes quickly and fully, even before being pressured into it. And if it's a major gaffe, don't settle for a measly paragraph hidden at the bottom of an inside page, or a reluctant "By the way . . ." from an anchor just before sign-off. Stand up to company lawyers who advise, "Don't admit error or say you're sorry because you may get sued." (ABC News's corporate-driven, gun-to-the-head apology to Philip Morris in 1995 was a sad anomaly.)

 Last fall, cjr gave its lead "Laurel" to the Northwest Arkansas Times and editor Mike Masterson for a front-page admission that the paper had conducted an inaccurate and "almost pathological smear campaign" years earlier against a mayoral candidate. The story ran even though the candidate had lost his libel suit against the paper. The banner headline read, an apology is long overdue. As the victim accurately responded, "Unfortunately, no one I know has ever heard of this kind of thing happening at a newspaper. I can't help but think that such a commitment . . . might actually become a contagious phenomenon within your powerful profession."

 Back in 1987, The New York Times ran a memorable top-of-page-one story with the headline: a correction: times was in error on north's secret-fund testimony. The paper had stated incorrectly that Oliver North testified that when he was on the National Security Council staff, he and CIA chief William Casey planned to keep secret from President Reagan a fund they wanted to set up for covert operations. The Times discovered its own mistake and 'fessed up in a big way. The correction was ordered by the executive editor, Max Frankel, even though, as the paper reported, nobody had complained that the article was wrong.
 Perhaps journalists can also learn a thing or two from smart business executives who've come to appreciate the value of getting faults out on the table as soon as possible, as Johnson &AMP Johnson did with its Tylenol-poisoning scare, Perrier did with its contamination problem, and Texaco's chairman is doing with its bias scandal. News organizations can save themselves a good deal of grief and earn a much-needed measure of respect by reporting their own blunders with as much alacrity and gusto as they report the blunders of others. They should overcome their fear of those two credibility-building words, "We're sorry."

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