Over the past 150 years, the American press has had some great success in exposing grave injustices in politics and business. These are the big stories, the ones that get attention and sell papers: the Teapot Dome scandal, the Pentagon Papers, Watergate. But overall — and of course there are some exceptions — papers shy away from really critiquing the accepted status quo of community standards, until they are forced to do so. Until 30 years ago the coverage of rape in newspapers was abysmal: community standards dictated that rape was either a "fate worse than death," or that "she was asking for it." Fifteen years ago, a newspaper would never cover the issue of domestic violence — "community standards" dictated that it was a "private matter." It took Matthew Shepard’s brutal death in 1998 to force newspapers to cover the extensive violence faced by gay men, lesbians, and transgendered people; violence that was largely considered acceptable behavior — even in accordance with "community standards" — for many in the dominant culture.

Indeed, newspapers’ acceptance of these "community standards" has been at times horrific and appalling. In the 1920s, for example, it was not unusual for some Southern papers to print notices of an impending lynching of an African-American man in legal custody. A way of getting a good crowd, it was most certainly in line with the prevailing notion of "community standards." In 1965, Alice Crimmins of New York, who worked as a cocktail waitress and was accused (with almost no convincing evidence) of murdering her two small children, was essentially convicted during her trial by every paper in Manhattan (including the New York Times) because she refused to shed tears in public, a clear violation of community standards about how women should behave. In 1991, Paul Reubens (a/k/a Pee-wee Herman) was arrested for masturbating in a adult-movie theater. Newspapers (and other media) vilified him and essentially destroyed his career: community standards dictated that children’s-television stars shouldn’t have sexual lives. In January 2002, the Providence Journal printed the names and addresses of men who had been picked up on misdemeanor charges of engaging in consensual sex in an adult-movie theater, even though this was antithetical to accepted journalistic practice of at least two decades’ standing. One of the men committed suicide. Apparently, at least in Rhode Island, community standards call for the public humiliation of homosexuals.

These examples, of course, represent the extreme. Far more common are the instances of newspapers reinforcing the social status quo. Up until a few decades ago, Southern newspapers had long followed a practice of referring to African-Americans by only their given and last names, rather than by the titles of miss, missus, or mister with their surnames. It had long been a "community standard" in the South, after all, to refer to "Negroes" by their first names alone. (This "community standard" practice gave rise to some African-American parents’ naming their infant boys "Mister" to ensure that they were given respect, however unintentionally.) The "customary" Southern use of only first names for African-Americans gave rise to a lawsuit in the 1960s that finally forced judges and attorneys to use the respectful titles of mister, missus, or miss when addressing people of color in courtrooms.

Indeed, the battle over language — which is, of course, a battle over etiquette and appropriate behavior — is profoundly political. In the 1950s and 1960s, civil-rights activists fought long and hard with newspapers to get them to stop referring to African-Americans as "colored." During the same period, fledgling homosexual-rights groups didn’t have the social or political clout to effectively lobby newspapers not to use words like "perverts" and "queers" when referring to gay men and lesbians. By the 1970s, however, gay activists could persist in fighting long and hard to get newspapers to stop using the more old-fashioned and clinical term "homosexual" in favor of "gay." The New York Times put up an often-acrimonious, eight-year-long battle — during which Times editors continually refused to meet with gay-rights groups — against using "gay," finally relenting in 1982. And, of course, the fight for "Ms." (instead of Miss or Mrs.) went on for years in almost every newspaper across the country before it became accepted usage.

NEWSPAPERS REINFORCE societal standards all the time. And a look at social coverage in American newspapers over the past 50 years chronicles how overtly wrong and insulting many of these papers’ policies have been. Indeed, almost all these practices have changed; many of them far later then they should have. Up until the late 1960s, for example, the New York Times printed notices of Jewish weddings on Mondays, while those of Christian weddings were published on Sundays. As recently as 30 years ago, most major dailies devoted considerable space on their society pages to debutante coming-out parties and activities; only white debutantes and their parties were given any notice, even though middle- and upper-middle-class African-Americans were engaging in almost identical activities. In New York City, for example, the Times was the place to have one’s "coming-out" proclaimed. Yet the parties of African-American debutantes were written up in the Amsterdam News, a large and influential paper published in Harlem, even though these affairs were as formal, expensive, and hierarchically structured as those of the white debs. In excluding notice of African-American debutantes, the New York Times was merely following "community standards," but the implication of this was far broader. By not reporting on black debutante events, the Times, as the nation’s newspaper of record, was saying that in the incredibly diverse city of New York, only white people and their activities and social events counted. This eradication of African-American social life simply reinforced the idea that society — that is, those of social standing — were, of course, white.

Ten years ago, only the bride’s (very formal) photo appeared in wedding announcements; now, it is perfectly acceptable, even mandated, to have a photo, usually informal, of the smiling bride and groom. It is not unheard-of, although still not very common, to see photos of non-white or even interracial couples in major newspapers — something that just wasn’t done 20 years ago. It is also now common for gossip columns to mention, in passing, the homosexuality of such openly queer celebrities as Sir Ian McKellen, Ellen DeGeneres, or Sir Elton John, along with their date du jour — which would have been verboten just 15 years ago. And 10 years ago, it was unacceptable in obituaries, whether paid announcements or news stories, to use the word "lover" or "partner" for the deceased’s unmarried (gay or straight) survivor. The more liberal papers might have been willing to say "is survived by ..." without a specific relationship designation; but most would not even allow that. (Eight years ago, when my lover of 20 years died, a friend who was placing a paid obituary notice in the New York Times argued for 20 minutes with the woman who was taking the notice to say that the deceased was "survived by his lover, Michael Bronski." But she, as well as her supervisor, was adamant in denying the wording.) Community standards will out.

COMMUNITY STANDARDS change. That much is obvious. What’s less so, however, is that these changes are not just the reflection of profound societal evolution but are, indeed, the very enactment of such change. To a very large degree, we aren’t just who we say we are, we are who the society pages say we are. The reason why newspapers like the Globe are unwilling to print notices of gay and lesbian weddings — or at least are wrestling with the decision — is because they understand full well that such a change in policy is not just cosmetic. It’s intensely meaningful on a societal level. The profound political point here is not that publishing gay-wedding notices and announcements constitutes capitulation to a noisy, demanding minority, but that such a move would be another important step in granting homosexuals access to a public space that is open to everyone else.

In this, newspapers have a clear choice: they can follow or they can lead. The argument that community standards are at issue here, as put forth by the Globe’s Baron, is a not only false; it’s also pernicious. The poet Audre Lorde once said that "the idea that you can’t fight city hall was made up by people in city hall." This is also true of the idea — enshrined in American culture — that there are common, shared "community standards." People who speak of "community standards" are, for the most part, simply rubber-stamping the comfortable status quo that benefits them and their interests.

Most of what passes for community standards in America today — casual acceptance of a pathetic minimum wage, the social tormenting of kids who don’t conform to "appropriate" gender roles, the continued harassment faced by many women in the job force, the ongoing scapegoating of African-American youth by police — prevents people from leading healthy, productive, and happy lives. If those who run our country’s biggest newspapers followed their best instincts and traditions, they would spend most of their energy combating community standards, not pandering to them.

Michael Bronski is the author of The Pleasure Principle: Sex, Backlash, and the Struggle for Gay Freedom (St. Martin’s, 1998). He can be reached at mabronski@aol.com