8. Navigating Power Dynamics

As a fact checker, you are an authority on what is publishable as fact-checked journalism. That means you hold a lot of power, which should be handled with care by following the Power Principle.

What we've tried to emphasize throughout this guide is that the operating notion of factuality in journalism is unique. Fact-checked journalism is not always capable of telling the truth about a matter, nor is it capable of telling all truths. Relatedly, power dynamics are unavoidable in human interactions, and being aware of them as a journalist doesn't necessarily mean you'll be able to change or avoid them in your work. But journalists should ensure that the stories we tell are held to agreed-upon standards of accuracy and integrity.

In this chapter, we begin by discussing the special role of the fact checker when it comes to navigating problematic power dynamics in journalism. We then discuss the different kinds of power dynamics a fact checker may encounter while working on a story, including power imbalances between different sources and between the fact checker and a source or community. Then we provide some methodological suggestions for addressing such situations—including, in certain special cases, working with outside readers, sharing drafts with sources, and ensuring reciprocity. Throughout the chapter, we emphasize the idea that factual journalism is a practice, not a product.

We approached this chapter a bit differently from the rest, in the hopes of acknowledging the limitations of our knowledge and the power we have as authors of this guide. During our research, we had the immense privilege of speaking with a wide range of consultants—journalists, academics, community members, and others—who have been thinking about and navigating power imbalances in their own work from a variety of perspectives. Since we wanted to centre their voices and experiences, much of this chapter is a collection of quotations.

Fact-Checking with Integrity

The fact checker's perspective in journalism is distinct. As a fact checker, you approach a story once all of the reporting and narrative-building has already happened but before it has been published. You don't know the story's history and context until it is dropped on your desk. And, inevitably, you'll be more or less knowledgeable about the subject matter of certain stories, more or less capable of navigating the sources used by the reporter, and more or less comfortable making decisions about the facts of the story.

Because you are given access to a reporter's entire body of research and asked to consult every source again, you have the opportunity to see the story as a whole from a fresh perspective. This means you can identify things that others may have missed, and you have the time and space to consider ethical questions such as sourcing, word choices, and interpersonal dynamics. You're not making editorial decisions or choosing the sources that inform the piece; you're coming in afterward, once the reporting has been done and the narrative choices have been made. This separation from the reporting process can make your job more difficult, especially when it comes to complex stories, but it can put you at an advantage in other ways.

Particularly important is your responsibility to speak with every person involved in a story (with some rare exceptions—see Chapter Three). It's interesting to note how the practice of conducting fact-checking interviews developed over the past half-century. In the early days of fact-checking at The New Yorker, for instance, fact checkers were largely restricted to background research, and interviewed sources' quotes were the reporter's domain: once they had been gathered, some of them weren't checked. "We gave far more deference to the writer and editor on those judgments than we presently do," says Peter Canby, who served as The New Yorker's head of fact-checking for nearly thirty years.

But that changed in the 1990s, after Tina Brown came on as editor of the magazine. In the mid-1980s, a source sued the magazine for having modified and even fabricated his quotes in a story; the lawsuit was finally resolved in 1994 (when the reporter, Janet Malcolm, was cleared of libel charges), and after that, the research department demanded that reporters share their interview transcripts, notes, and recordings as backups for fact-checking. This shift led to new editorial fact-checking standards at The New Yorker: fact checkers were asked to call back every source quoted in a piece and go over their quotes together, much more so than had been done in the past, and the scope of facts considered to be "on author" (meaning they did not need to be fact-checked) was highly restricted.

Over time, Canby's editorial team faced a new problem: occasionally, some reporters working with "high-level sources" (especially media-savvy politicians from Washington) promised them a process of "quote approval" during which sources could read their quotes and modify or approve them before publication—often without the editorial team's knowledge. This could complicate a fact checker's job, because some sources felt they could modify or retract their quotes however they desired during the fact-checking call. In order to prevent manipulation by powerful sources, the fact-checking team eventually shifted their process again—and developed a practice much like the one in place today: quotes are rarely ever read back to sources verbatim, nearly everything is paraphrased, and the checker can always default to the audio recording if there is disagreement about what was said. Here's how The New Yorker's fact-checking process was described in the Columbia Journalism Review in 2017:

For each story that goes to print, Canby's staff will endeavor to speak to every person mentioned, even if they're not quoted. That includes in stories that take the form of a memoir. As Canby says, "It's their memory, too." They give subjects a chance to fix errors, but not rewrite the interview. This can sometimes get contentious for fact-checkers, who might get pushback from Washington power players and business people who are no longer happy with what they said. (Pro tip: Reading back quotes is a surefire way to have a subject ask to rewrite them. Canby gives subjects the substance of what they said, but never reads quotes verbatim.)*

—"The New Yorker's chief fact checker on how to get things right in the era of 'post truth'," Columbia Journalism Review (2017)

Over the years, changes to The New Yorker's fact-checking practices were prompted largely by shifting power dynamics. And today, as a default, fact-checking is much better adapted to reporting on manipulative politicians than to reporting on marginalized communities. It's helpful to be conscious of this history when thinking about your own fact-checking approach. Ask yourself: Whom is the fact-checking process meant to serve, and what kind of relationship should I establish with different sources in order to counteract problematic power dynamics?

Scott Neufeld, a lecturer in psychology at Brock University and co-author of Research 101: A Manifesto for Ethical Research in the Downtown Eastside, emphasizes the fact that many members of marginalized communities feel like their personal stories are "extracted from their community by journalists like some kind of a natural resource." Once an interview has been conducted, they often never hear from the journalist again, they have no way of ensuring that their perspective is accurately represented, and they have no power over how their quotes are contextualized.

It feels like a lot of the time in research, and in journalism too, there's this moment when the person from outside the community just sort of rips that story away and severs the relationship. That can be really normalized by journalists: "I can sort of do what I want with this person's story, and I can put the context around it and edit it. I can represent it how I want; I have no further obligations to the person that actually produced it." That's a very easy disconnect to rationalize in research, and maybe in journalism too. And I think processes like member-checking or fact-checking are ways of resisting that.

—Scott Neufeld, Lecturer, Department of Psychology, Brock University

This is the kind of situation where fact-checking can help a great deal: by returning to the source to go over the content of the story with them, the fact checker is allowing for an important kind of transparency about the journalistic process. So fact-checking itself is one way of possibly giving power back to a source. But not if fact-checking is understood as an antagonistic, "gotcha" way of keeping interviewed sources at a distance from the journalistic process.

I write in a very specific way; I'm interested in highlighting systemic issues and guarding against trauma porn. For me to do that, I have to be a type of generous and open-minded in my work that I am not always in my personal life...I try to uphold the old journalism adage of afflicting the comfortable and comforting the afflicted. It's something that feels really lost these days.

—Jane Gerster, independent journalist

In the following sections, we will discuss several cases in which fact-checking and power dynamics interact. But, first, we want to note the importance of understanding the power dynamics in your own newsroom, which can affect a fact checker's ability to do their job thoroughly or a journalist's ability to make changes to their article. There are many issues that a fact checker cannot address—such as whether the publication hires a diverse staff, pays people well, and makes sure that fact checkers and other members of the editorial team are respected. But you can still address certain things yourself, within the scope of your own work.

It's helpful, for example, to think of documentation as a defensive tool, both for the publication and for you as an individual fact checker. In Chapter Three, we described how to track the changes made to a story by the handling editor on a post-input copy, which you should keep as part of your fact-checking records. The post-input copy is an important part of the documentation process, but it also protects the fact checker: if ever there are internal disagreements about a fact or corrections to be made to the published version of a story, the input copy will show which suggested corrections were made and which the handling editor stetted.

It's also important to recognize the complicated power dynamics that exist between reporter and fact checker. For the most part, you get to decide what remains in a story and what needs to be removed or adapted for it to be considered factual, and the reporter will have to revise accordingly. But that doesn't mean they will always take you as seriously as they should. And, for your part, you should treat all reporters with trust and respect.

Editors and managers should also be aware of inequitable power structures in the newsroom, which are not only unfair but also tend to produce poorer-quality journalism. Underpaying and undervaluing fact checkers, as is unfortunately common in newsrooms, leads to a situation where fact checkers are harried, errors are missed, and legitimate concerns are dismissed.

Fact checkers are often junior employees in a newsroom or freelancers who may not have a seat at the newsroom table despite the critical role they play in ensuring the accuracy and fairness of the journalism being published. This is part of why it's so important to be confident in your work—you may not have anyone else to back you up when making suggestions to editors and writers or when talking to sources. Confidence doesn't mean being pushy or rude, but it means that you should be sure of yourself when making a correction—you should know exactly why you're suggesting a change and be sure that you're right. And always make sure there's a paper trail. Make sure you document when a publication chooses not to take your suggestions and when a source pushes back. Document everything: it's a good journalistic practice to keep good notes, but it also protects you if anything goes wrong.

—Erin Sylvester, Managing Editor, The Walrus

The unfortunate thing is that when The New Yorker is wrong on these allegations, which we are from time to time, the cry goes out not for the writer or for the editor but for the fact-checker. In the department, we refer to that as the Shoot-the-Fact-Checker Syndrome, which is one of our occupational hazards.

—Peter Canby, "Fact-Checking at The New Yorker," Columbia Journalism Review (2012)

Power Imbalances Between Sources

Sometimes, failing to take into account the power dynamics that exist between different sources in a story could mean failing to check the facts accurately—either because a source with less power is wrongly discounted or because a source that abuses power is wrongly conferred authority. We have already discussed how issues of authority and expertise can complicate the fact-checking process (see Chapter Four). But it's important to emphasize that interpersonal dynamics can also make it difficult to assess whose voice should be given the most weight when determining the accuracy of a statement.

Here, we list situations where power dynamics between sources can affect the way you decide to approach a story. Keep in mind that each situation is different and should be addressed on a case-by-case basis.

• Stories involving the police, the courts, or the law

  Legal considerations are especially important when fact-checking a story about the people who have power in a society, such as government officials, police officers, and legal institutions. Journalists must act within the boundaries of the law to ensure that we—and our jobs—are protected. But that doesn't mean we need to agree with the courts factually, for example about their findings of "truth." We just need to ensure that, if we do disagree with court documents, we have enough evidence to back up our own claims.

  Journalistic coverage of crime can also be problematic. Because of the power dynamics involved, the corroboration needed to publish a story about crime is extensive. Don't rely on a newspaper article to confirm that someone has committed a crime; the claim needs to be backed up by official court documents and police reports, as well as testimonials from the people who were involved in the incident or who know the person at the centre of the story.

  If a person was found guilty of a crime, make sure that those charges haven't been overturned (see the Stress Test for Legally Sensitive Stories); even if they haven't, you should make sure that details of their criminalization are relevant to the story before fact-checking and including them. A person should not be defined by their criminal history without good reason.

  Sometimes we're asked to weigh in on how best to pronounce a place or name. When it was the name of somebody who was a suspect in a crime, for a long time our thinking was that, if we could contact an attorney involved in the case or the law enforcement for that jurisdiction, the guidance we would get from them would be good enough. Thinking back on that, that was horrible. For that level of detail, you cannot rely on the police department—that's not its purview. So we think about who or what is the closest source to this person or this event. And, when we share our findings with our colleagues, we point out any caveats: I can only see this detail in the prosecution's filings in this case, or I'm not seeing this reported elsewhere, or we don't have a good way right now to identify someone closer to the story who can verify this for us.

  —Mary Glendinning, Director of Products and Research, Research, Archives & Data Strategy, NPR

  The police are the last people we would go to in order to confirm someone's story about police violence. On a subject like that, there are plenty of non-police sources—like community members and witnesses, academic sources who have been studying the issue, and others; sources without a vested interest in advancing a narrative that exonerates police. With community members in particular, it's crucial not to discount the expertise of directly impacted people who have lived experience interacting with police in their own neighbourhoods. Often they themselves have been tracking incidents within their communities and can point you toward different people who will have perspectives to share. We can take seriously what people are telling us while upholding our responsibility to corroborate what they're saying.

  —Ashton Lattimore, Editor-in-Chief, Prism

• Subjects of historical and systemic marginalization

  If a community has been marginalized, that means dominant culture has not only prevented community members from telling their own stories but also considered them incapable of telling their stories. It also means that the community has been prevented from developing some of the material resources needed to advocate for itself, to seek accurate representation in mainstream media, and to rectify any factual inaccuracies about them that have been perpetuated by more powerful communities or institutions. As we discussed in Chapter Four, knowledge of systemic marginalization should affect the kinds of gathered sources you expect to find within and about a certain community and which ones you should take seriously. Journalism should be factually empowering those communities, not perpetuating their marginalization.

  It's important to remember that marginalization can affect interpersonal relationships as well. Two people who seem to have structurally similar experiences in a story may still not have equal power. Which student is the one with the trust fund, for example? As Cassius Adair, an Assistant Professor of Media Studies at The New School, notes, a journalist should double-check that a story about two people arguing over "who parked in the parking space" is just that and not, instead, a story about "how the white person always parks in the Asian person's parking space."

  One of the most frustrating things about contemporary mainstream journalism, to be entirely honest, is that you take the stories of individual community members and supposedly balance those stories with the authority of institutions that have been around for hundreds of years, with significant budgets, with infrastructures around communications departments and... people who have been trained to respond to the very kinds of questions that you're bringing to them. And then you've got these really raw, often emotional stories from community members, and that's what you call balance. And that's the way, for me, that the question of the "expert" becomes really important.

  —Rinaldo Walcott, Director, Women and Gender Studies Institute, University of Toronto

  A 2013 study in The Canadian Geographer found that in a sampling of articles published by the Vancouver Sun and Province from 1997—2008, politicians, police, and journalists were all more likely to be cited as "defining" sources in stories about the Vancouver Downtown Eastside than actual residents.

  —Zak Vescera, "How (Not) to Report on Vancouver's Downtown Eastside," Canadaland (2019)

• Community representatives

  Community representatives, whether advocacy organizations or more informal positions, have considerable power over the facts pertaining to the community they represent. They are often respected members of the community, but that doesn't mean they won't ever abuse their power when speaking with a journalist on behalf of their community. Choosing the wrong person to represent a community in a work of journalism may mean inadvertently reinforcing problematic power dynamics by omitting—or including—certain voices.

  Of course, it's necessary to rely on community representatives in many cases during reporting and fact-checking. Determining whom to include in a story falls to the reporter; a fact checker's job is to be aware of red flags about a representative they've been told to contact and raise them as soon as possible to the rest of the team. (The Tips for Assessing Subject-Matter Experts and Community Representatives will help you do just that.)

  Do we give a community some collective power in decision making around who gets to represent it? Or do we just go in, in the absence of relationships, and say, "Let's find some totally random person who is now going to represent this entire community?" That feels like it gives way too much power to the journalists to actually represent the existing web of relationships. Is this person routinely held up by a wide swath of the community as someone who really does have their interests at heart? According to whom? Don't just pick some random person you bumped into on the street. Go through the proper channels, which do exist.

  —Scott Neufeld, Lecturer, Department of Psychology, Brock University

  Try to recruit peers that are widely respected and trusted within their community. Recognize that certain people may not be the best representatives of the organization they are a part of or our community more broadly. Go through the proper channels for hiring people to work with you as representatives of their organization or community. Don't just hire the first person you meet or have a connection with, or your friend in the community. They may not be the best person for the job, and not going through the proper channels to hire a peer research assistant could create bigger issues for your project down the road.

  —Louise Boilevin et. al., Research 101: A Manifesto for Ethical Research in the Downtown Eastside (2019)

• Caretaking situations

  Sometimes, the most readily available source to confirm a fact about someone is their caretaker. The person being described might be impossible to check with—perhaps they have passed away, perhaps they are not physically capable of communicating with journalists, or perhaps they just aren't available within the time frame you require for fact-checking. Or you may have already spoken with them, but you need a second person for corroboration.

  There's nothing theoretically wrong with speaking to someone's caretaker to corroborate their story—in some cases, it might be perfectly appropriate and respectful. But you should be aware of the power dynamics inherent in caretaking situations and make sure that the caretaker does actually represent the perspective of the person you're hoping they represent. For example, they might not know the details of that person's identity or mode of expression—or they might disagree with them and try to change aspects of their testimony during fact-checking (as some parents have been known to do regarding their children's trans identities, for example).

  You should ask whether fact-checking with a caretaker is appropriate (ideally you'll have consulted with the original source about it first) and, if you have doubts, whether there are alternative routes to take or whether you can account for that problematic power dynamic in your fact-checking some other way.

  Standard situations where these issues come up include: someone's supervisor in incarceration, a group home, or foster care; someone's parent(s), legal guardian(s), or conservator; and someone's professional caretaker(s), such as a doctor or therapist.

  We often allow other people to speak for those who live with disabilities rather than speaking to them directly. The go-to for journalists is to talk to guardians, parents, medical professionals, and other experts. Yes, you can talk to those people, but you need to talk to the person with a disability, and that can be difficult, especially when you're interviewing someone with an intellectual disability. But you need to try to find a way to allow them to have a voice in a story that is about them...Don't assume that people with disabilities can't speak themselves.

  —Kristin Gilger, Reynolds Professor in Business Journalism, Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication, Arizona State University

  For trans folks, we're definitely looking at like, okay, what does their social media say? What do their closest friends say? What do their partners say? Parents, doctors, honestly, those come pretty low on the priority list to me. Like they are basically, unless I know it's a trans-affirming doctor, irrelevant. I don't really think about doctors unless they are known for listening to trans people. And then, parents, I also don't weight very heavily unless...I can clearly see that they are trans-affirming in their parenting, even if they don't fully understand it. If they use the name that I'm seeing on social media, then I'm more willing to listen to what they have to say. But, I mean, even if you aren't trans, there's so much that you hide from your parents... So it doesn't make sense to rely on parents and doctors as a primary source.

  —Sid Drmay, freelance journalist

  My wife and I recognize we have much more than an ordinary marriage—it's one that's filled with more than our fair share of tenderness and bliss. We've been married for forty-one years now, and it's been about ten years since Judy was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I decided to write about our love story, but given Judy's Alzheimer's and the fact that she had experienced sexual abuse while I had a lifetime of physical disabilities, I recognized early on that fact-checking would be tricky. I was sharing someone else's story, my wife's, but because of the extent of her Alzheimer's, she could not confirm or deny anything. My daughter knows what happened, as does one of my wife's close friends, so we fact-checked that personal trauma through them.

  Did I have the right to tell my wife's story? Judy couldn't grant consent when I was writing, but in those highly emotional days after her diagnosis, she urged me to keep writing about my life and our lives, and after lengthy consideration, I decided I needed to include in this memoir one of the reasons our marriage has been so strong: we held each other up when memories of personal trauma came, as they inevitably and often do, roaring back.

  —Stephen Trumper, magazine editor, writer, and instructor

Power Imbalances between Fact Checkers and Sources

In any research context, there is a power imbalance between the researcher and the researched. In the realm of factual accuracy, a fact checker wields power over the subject of a fact-checked story because they get to decide what should be considered "fact-checked journalism."

Power imbalances between fact checkers and sources can be divided into two broad categories: the fact checker's relation to individuals and the fact checker's relation to communities. Generally, the power dynamics between the latter cannot be solved by an individual fact checker, but there are steps that can be taken to mitigate them.

• Sources who are unfamiliar with media and fact-checking

  It's unlikely that a member of the general public will understand the inner workings of journalism—much less those of fact-checking—or fully grasp the consequences that their participation in a story may have. In this sense, the relationship between fact checker and source is one in which the fact checker has nearly all of the informational power, and the Power Principle is crucial.

  One thing that I talk about with fact checkers is an appreciation of whom you're talking to—their level of experience talking to a fact checker. So if there's a pundit who's been interviewed for a piece, that person has a different level of experience with journalism than maybe a person who is from a marginalized community, someone who isn't quoted a lot or has never been quoted before in any kind of journalism outlet. There can be reasonable differences and expectations when talking to a journalist, and reasonable differences in one's relationship to the process. That should all be taken into account when we're talking about judgment.

  —Betsy Morais, Managing Editor, Columbia Journalism Review

  The majority of the sources we interview are not in positions of power. So unlike an elected official or law enforcement source they don't come into regular contact with news media. Because of this we don't assume our sources understand the complexity and danger of immigration law and how going public with their personal narrative may impact their lives.

  In every interview we are sure to explain not only how their story will be shared to the public, but also the potential consequences—like US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents using news articles to identify and detain people. During our reporting and editing process we explicitly ask sources what could put them or their family in danger, either here in the United States or abroad.

  —"Best Practices," Borderless Magazine

• Media-savvy sources

  On the other hand, sources with extensive experience in media—such as PR people—may try to take advantage of the fact-checking process to control a story. Some magazines have dealt with this by being especially secretive about their fact-checking methodologies, but this runs counter to the values of accountability and transparency that undergird responsible communication.

  When it comes to dealing with PR people, remember that they are not expert sources. The only thing a PR person can speak to is general information about the company or person they represent—not personal statements by individuals or anything else of that nature. PR people can be quite persistent; they sometimes misunderstand fact-checking and think that you are requesting a new interview. They may try to stand between you and the source you're hoping to speak with. If a PR person refuses to put you in touch with a source and wants to answer fact-checking questions in their place, tell them that this goes against the publication's fact-checking policy and explain the importance of getting in touch with the source directly. If a PR person is giving you trouble, direct them to the head of research.

  People are well within their rights to refuse to participate in fact-checking, though they should be made aware that this decision may change the facts that end up being published. If they are powerful sources who seem to be trying to prevent publication by refusing to participate in fact-checking, you need not give in entirely to their demands. Let them know that, if they do not participate, you will rely on recordings, transcripts, and any notes taken by the reporter during the original interview(s), as well as any additional gathered and interviewed sources that can help you confirm the facts. Be clear about the limitations of fact-checking this way—the information could be outdated or not representative of the source's experience—and remind them that you will be available to speak with them until the story is published (give them a specific date). Preserve a record of the exchange for your fact-checking folder.

  The risk in adhering closely to traditional journalistic research methods—even if they're very good methods backed up by sound principles—is that powerful institutions will learn about those methods and then design roadblocks to stop journalists from using those methods. Take, for example, the policies that prisons have around allowing journalists to speak to prisoners. These policies are really restrictive, and they force journalists to jump through a lot of hoops (such as submitting a list of questions beforehand or agreeing to be accompanied by prison staff) to get an interview with a prisoner. The policies make it seem like there's some kind of due process and make it so that it's not literally impossible to get an interview with a prisoner. But, at the end of the day, any interview can be denied at the discretion of prison administrators.

  If you're doing any kind of reporting that's critical of prisons, administrators can and will shut down your access to sources who are prisoners. In those cases, you either just give up entirely and say, "If we're not able to follow the traditional journalistic practices, then we can't put out this article at all." Or you say, "We feel it's important to put out this article, even if it's compromised in certain ways, and so we're going to do it anyway—by accepting that we may not be able to do a follow-up interview with a prisoner or corroborate a prisoner's lived experience with their peers. And we're going to be as transparent as possible about how the article was made and why it was made that way."

  —Saima Desai, Editor, Briarpatch

• Communities that have been harmed by previous media coverage

  Misstating a fact about a community in a "fact-checked story" might mean introducing an error into the historical record for decades. This is particularly problematic when the story is about a community that doesn't have much accurate information recorded about it by mainstream media in the first place. You have a greater responsibility to set the record straight if the community has been stigmatized or ignored by mainstream media in the past, or if other journalists have published inaccuracies about them.

  Sometimes, journalists struggle to report accurate facts about marginalized communities because there is less previous reporting or fewer external sources to fall back on for sourcing. This means the fact checker might have to do more work to find authoritative sources about a community or be more creative with the kinds of sources they look for (as mentioned in Chapter Four). If that primary work isn't done well or with integrity, errors can make their way into the story—which is not only harmful to the community but also contributes to a distrust of media writ large.

  I would say part of how we handle that is being sensitive right up to the assignment stage. Starting as early as assignment, I try not to hire people to write stories about other people who are significantly more marginalized than they are. If I can get the right person to write a story about a community, who has at least adjacency to that community, that is what we do. Everyone on the team is very attuned to questions of oppression and marginalization. Providing opportunities for sharing truths that aren't on government documents—that's part of our ethos. But our goal is always to have as much respect as we can while still keeping that skepticism to make sure we're getting things right.

  —Jessie Johnston, Editrix-in-Chief and Publisher, Asparagus Magazine

  Our stories, field notes, and communities ask a great deal of us as journalists—and, particularly, as Indigenous journalists and journalists of color—especially in moments of grave consequence, like the present. It's hard, and in some cases impossible, to give yourself, your audience, your community, your sources—and perhaps also your land, your water, your relations—everything they want and deserve in your work. Indigenous experiences and perspectives challenge the notion that a press corps equipped with notepads and recorders can capture the whole truth. More often than not, I'm convinced that reality defies the disciplined space of stories, waging an epistemic resistance against the tyranny of language, text, and form—something we Indians can relate to.

  —Julian Brave Noisecat, "Apocalypse Then and Now," Columbia Journalism Review (2020)

  We have a real responsibility in this country to tell Indigenous stories properly, because it's been a complete tire fire for two centuries or more. The most important thing is to encourage and support Indigenous journalists to develop meaningful careers. In the meantime, though, as we ensure that young Indigenous journalists become mid-level Indigenous journalists who become senior Indigenous journalists, the rest of us have to learn how to do better.

  —Denise Balkissoon, Ontario Bureau Chief, The Narwhal

Methodological Suggestions

There is no universal approach to dealing with power dynamics, and as an individual fact checker, you will not be able to address all of the considerations listed above on your own. But you should aim to achieve an ongoing practice of awareness and care in fact-checking.

Most fact-checking rules can be bent to account for some of the considerations listed above, but that should happen only after careful consideration. Bending the rules shouldn't change the standards of verification to which you are beholden—just how you decide to meet them.

This section outlines some suggestions for working as a fact checker with integrity and in accordance with the Power Principle.

Ensure informed consent.

Informed consent is at the foundation of any responsible fact-checking practice. Every source involved in a piece of journalism must have a complete understanding of what their participation entails, including in the fact-checking process. Some sources will be much more familiar with the journalism process than others; don't assume they know what participation as a source in your story will look like. Some sources will need more explicit explanation of the fact-checking process than others, but every source should be approached with informed consent in mind.

It's never acceptable for journalists to try to catch someone off guard with the fact-checking process—part of the idea of fact-checking is that no one should be surprised by the information that is published about them, even if the story is critical.

Ensuring sources' informed consent is a collective responsibility held by the handling editor, reporter, fact checker, and head of research. During fact-checking, make sure to take notes of your informed consent agreements with sources as well as any relevant subsequent conversations.

Informed consent is important when reporting on communities. Many stories are published because the writer has a really, really deep relationship with the community that they're reporting on, and sources consider the writer to be a friend or a community member. If no one has taken the time to explain that fact-checking is an important part of the process of publishing the story, it would be quite jarring for sources to get a call from a stranger asking them about something that they had told the writer.

—Saima Desai, Editor, Briarpatch

My students used to say, "If I tell someone all of what can happen, they will pull out of the story." I really think that we act in journalism like everyone knows what we do. Depictions of journalists in mass media are ridiculous. My response is, "Okay, so you would trick someone into being in a story?"...I used to say this: journalism has a problem—a credibility problem, trust problem, appreciation problem; we were vilified under four years of Trump, we were the enemy of the people. I think that we have not thought very long or hard about how we treat people and how that has contributed to the distrust in journalism. Will you ever speak to a journalist again if you were tricked or if someone surprised you about the frame of the story?

In teaching accuracy checking, sometimes I would hear other editors in the newsroom say, "Make sure you check those quotes." And I am sure I made myself unpopular by saying that accuracy checking really isn't just a quote check, it's also about the context... It really kind of bugged me when students or colleagues would call it "quote check" because it really isn't fair, sometimes. Out of fairness to this person, to their reputation, you might want to check the paraphrase, the lead-in, describe where the quote is being used. We select quotes and select facts; it's a very powerful thing that can leave a certain kind of impression that may not align with the source's perspective.

—Katherine Reed, Director of Education and Content, Association of Health Care Journalists

For me, it's not about pretending that I'm objective or whatever; it is about fairness, and that looks different—I will pause and explain my process to sources who are not in positions of power. The less power you have, the more I will stop and explain and answer clarifying questions and build in the process of "Do you actually want to do this?"

—Jane Gerster, independent journalist

Just because I, as a journalist, have talked to you doesn't mean that I somehow have greater insight into your life experiences than you yourself do, but this is, of course, how journalists and researchers have tended to act. How can we try to balance that power dynamic? One of the ways that feminist research methodologists think about this is informed consent—specifically, informed consent as an ongoing process rather than a one-time decision made on the fly. So, essentially, you as the source or research participant sign an informed consent form at the beginning of our relationship that says, every time we have an interview, I have to ask you, "Do I still get to share what you've told me? Have you thought about this differently since the last time we spoke?" One aspect of thinking about informed consent in this way that I find fascinating, but that strikes many journalists as impossible or even a bit offensive, is that true informed consent means sources have the right, all the way through, up until the point of publication, to say, "I've changed my mind."

—Bruce Gillespie, Associate Professor, Digital Media and Journalism, Wilfrid Laurier University

Be aware that journalism has different roles in different countries. Explain clearly who you are, where you work and the type of journalism you do. Journalism can have a range of roles depending on the country. Workshop participants linked journalism with positive and negative qualities, ranging from the idea of journalism as a social service to journalism as a tool for politics and propaganda. Many refugees come from countries where media messaging is strictly controlled by the government. Being aware of these differences and explaining how journalism works at your publication can help put prospective interviewees at ease.

—Francesca Fionda and Alia Dharssi, "How journalists can do a better job of talking about refugees," The Discourse (2018)

Make the fact-checking process as transparent and accessible as possible.

Transparency is a large part of ensuring informed consent. A publication's fact-checking standards and processes shouldn't be a secret; its standards of verification and ethics should be easily accessible on the publication's website so that any source involved in a story can access them at any time. Of course, this is not something you can control as a fact checker, but if your publication does make this information public, make sure that you have a link handy so you can share it with sources when appropriate. If it does not, then be prepared to give sources detailed explanations over the phone or via email—in fact, it is good practice to provide a standard explanation for what you are doing at the beginning of every call. Again, many people do not understand what we're doing or why; being transparent about it can be time-consuming in the moment, but it is necessary for building trust.

Discuss with your editorial team what fact-checking should look like in different contexts, when traditional fact-checking methods are appropriate and when they are not. It's important for both the reporter and the fact checker to know what accommodations and support a publication is willing to give to sources who need them. These conversations should be conducted with accessibility in mind: making fact-checking as accessible as possible to sources in terms of language, tools, and resources is essential.

For example, if you're fact-checking with a deaf source, you should ask them whether they would prefer to fact-check over email instead of by phone. Other examples of accessibility accommodations include using plain language, defining jargon for interviewed sources with intellectual disabilities, and working with a translator to translate a fact-checking email into a source's first language.

Remember the Collaboration Principle: do not assume whether someone will need accommodations or what those accommodations might be—just ask them. Any accessibility accommodations should be explicitly discussed and agreed upon with the source.

Pace is a major aspect of expectations of performance; non-disabled people often take pace so much for granted that they feel and express impatience with the slower pace at which some people with disabilities need to operate, and accommodations of pace are often crucial to making an activity accessible to people with a wide range of physical and mental abilities.

—Susan Wendell, The Rejected Body: Feminist Philosophical Reflections on Disability (1996)

Be self-aware and humble.

Understand where you stand, what your standards and values are, and why. Trust your gut: if you feel that a fact is embarrassing to ask the source about during a fact-checking interview (for example, if it's a detail about their appearance—skin colour, weight, etc.—that doesn't feel relevant), that may be a sign that it shouldn't be included in the story. (If you don't feel comfortable saying something to someone directly, why would the publication print it for the whole world to read?) Building a trusting relationship with sources takes time, and sources are much more likely to feel comfortable with you if it is clear that you recognize the time, energy, and knowledge they are sharing with you.

Respect the independence of sources, the reporter, and members of the editorial team, but also know when to stand your ground when it comes to defending factual accuracy and integrity.

Do your homework, and make sure to conduct an appropriate amount of background research before speaking with interviewed sources—particularly if you are speaking with members of a marginalized community.

Expectations: Treat us with respect, stop with the elitism, stop with the entitlement, work toward creating conditions of actual equality and take seriously the meaning of the term "peers."

—Louise Boilevin et. al., Research 101: A Manifesto for Ethical Research in the Downtown Eastside (2019)

If it comes down to the cultural basics, please just search for yourself before you reach out to the reporter to do it. Understand that Indigenous reporters have a lot more requirements put on them than other ones. So, if you can take some of the work off and do more of it yourself, that would really be helpful.

—Robert Jago, freelance journalist

Marianna Couchie, former chief of the Nipissing First Nation in Ontario, Canada, has witnessed the burden of over-research within her own community. When the Nipissing started a new fishing program on their reserve, the lead in their fisheries department told Couchie that he was beset by interview requests in which the researchers were asking the same questions over and over again. Both Couchie and the fisheries lead were frustrated that so much of his time was being consumed with repetitive requests that conferred no value to their community. "They're more than happy to share their stories," Couchie says of the members of the Nipissing First Nation. But constant questioning—with no consideration for how the responses might be used to benefit the community—imposes an undue burden on the members' time and energy. And without a voice in the research, indigenous participants have historically been unable to steer it toward responding to their needs.

—Grace Huckins, "For Marginalized Groups, Being Studied Can Be a Burden," Wired (2021)

I'm less interested in Euro-colonial claims of "objective truth" than in integrity: the integrity of the information, what the motivation is for sharing that information... For me, it's about whether a story has the kind of grounding that can allow you to show different facets of it with care. Objective truth must be partnered with integrity.

—Zoe Todd, Associate Professor, Sociology, Carleton University

Be patient and respectful.

It's often unrealistic to expect that everyone will be able to work on your fact-checking schedule. Sometimes people will be slow to get back to you or will need additional time and explanation before feeling comfortable participating in fact-checking. The reasons for this could be personal, cultural, or based on negative experiences with media in the past.

Being patient and having the right attitude toward others go a long way (though, of course, you do not have control over the publication's timeline or how other members of the editorial team may feel).

It's called "Indian time" or "community time"—acknowledge that certain stories just take a while. Sometimes you have to wait for the community to be ready to collaborate with you.

—Tara Williamson, Research Director, University of Victoria Indigenous Law Research Unit

There's a real desire and intentionality to cultivate relationships of care and reciprocity and trust that often take time...We always want to encourage people to take time to cultivate the relationship to get things right and feel right.

—Jackie Wong, Senior Editor, The Tyee

Know when to step back.

Sometimes, you may feel that you are not qualified to work as the fact checker on a story, perhaps because you lack the cultural competency to do so with integrity. It's okay to say so.

Similarly, sources may decide that they do not want to participate in fact-checking; as we mention in Chapter Seven, being questioned, for a second or third time, could be perceived as a challenge to the truthfulness of their account or the cause of secondary victimization. If they explicitly say that they are comfortable with your team publishing their quotes without them being fact-checked, there's no reason why you shouldn't do so—as long as you're transparent about it with your audience (and you keep the exchange for your records). It gets more complicated, however, if the external facts of their story can't be confirmed either; in those cases, you may have to remove them from the story entirely.

A source may also request during fact-checking to be removed from the piece. Most journalists are against the idea of allowing people to step back from a story, but from a power-dynamics perspective, it's clear that no one who isn't a public figure owes journalists their time or their story, even if they've already participated in an interview on the record in the past. If someone expresses discomfort or a wish to no longer participate in the story, bring that information to the handling editor.

I try to listen, and I'm like, Am I even the person who should tell this story? And sometimes I'm not. It's not my story to tell.

—Zoe Todd, Associate Professor, Sociology, Carleton University

Work with outside readers.

It's possible for a story to have been perfectly reported, edited, and fact-checked and to still read as inaccurate or wrong by the community it is about. Often, fact-checking occurs outside a community framework, and we are therefore bound to miss contextual or cultural particularities. This is why some stories require the publication's collaboration with a (paid) outside reader, who may contribute to the editorial production of the story at any point in the process, including by reading over the final draft of a story (after fact-checking) in order to identify any cultural inaccuracies or sensitivities. The outside reader is usually someone from within the community in which the story is set, and they can be a valuable resource for ensuring that our subjects are represented properly and feel respected by the journalistic process.

Outside readers are sometimes also called inside readers, since they're from inside the community in question. Other people use the term sensitivity readers, but we prefer to avoid this term since the reader's role is not to protect the publication against possible negative reactions to the piece but rather to catch factual inaccuracies and misrepresentations.

It's the handling editor's responsibility to hire an outside reader, but they may call on you to suggest names, vet the outside reader they've selected, or incorporate the reader's comments into your fact check. You can also suggest hiring an outside reader if you get the impression that the story you're fact-checking could use a community check.

Even the most well-meaning and well-intentioned reporters make mistakes. When reporting on trans people, communities, and issues, it's best to involve trans reporters and/or editors who understand these communities. If this is not possible, hire an outside trans sensitivity reader or editor to provide feedback before publication. This is even more essential when your coverage involves trans people who experience marginalization in multiple ways—for instance, trans people of color, trans sex workers, or trans people with disabilities. In these cases, we advise hiring sensitivity readers who understand the various axes of oppression relevant to the story and sources.

—Trans Journalists Association's Style Guide

Really, [outside readers are] what's needed... It involves journalists relinquishing their power to know and tell, you know, and doing away with a whole lot of assumptions that fundamentally underpin a lot of journalism. So, I mean, I think that's a great way of sort of trying to do things differently.

—Tahu Kukutai, Professor, Te Ngira Institute for Population Research, Waikato University

Consider sharing quotes or drafts with sources pre-publication.

There has long been a debate in journalism around the appropriateness and ethics of pre-publication review (PPR), or the practice of showing excerpts or full drafts of stories to sources and allowing them to request modifications to the text before publication. The most common objection to PPR is that it gives too much editorial power to sources, who (the argument goes) are the objects of journalism, not the subjects. Indeed, the appropriateness of such a practice depends largely on the power dynamics between the journalist and the source. Sharing the draft of a reported story about political corruption with a high-ranking government minister ahead of time, for example, would be unwise—the minister may use it to their advantage, either by sharing it with others ahead of publication or trying to quash or modify the information it contains, or perhaps even by intimidating or coercing some of the other sources cited.

Nevertheless, many longform and narrative journalists share drafts of their pieces with sources who are marginalized or whose personal experiences are being featured. Jan Winburn, a veteran longform editor and specialist in trauma-informed journalism, argues that allowing certain sources to review a draft can make the story more correct and more respectful. "Without fail," Winburn says, PPR "has always made the story more accurate. And that's because people will have said something during the interview, and now, when they see how you're using it, they'll tell you more. The context becomes richer."

Editorial fact-checking is often presented as a compromise between these two perspectives: the fact checker is tasked with ensuring that every source is given appropriate consideration and is accurately represented—without handing powerful sources too much control over the story. According to standard practice, the fact checker will fulfill this responsibility in part by contacting every person with whom the reporter spoke and going through the relevant facts of the story with them. The fact checker will have an open conversation with the source, not only to confirm the quotes and information attributed to them in the story but also to ensure that the context in which these are presented is accurate and responsible.

Over the course of our discussions with consultants for this guide, however, many sources brought up the question of whether fact-checking could also accommodate a process of PPR, particularly in the context of problematic power dynamics between the fact checker and the source. Here, we have divided the issue into two separate but related questions: (1) the question of PPR itself, namely whether a reporter can or should show their draft to a source before filing; and (2) the question of verbatim fact-checking, namely whether a fact checker can or should share (parts of) the reporter's draft to a source during fact-checking.

Question 1 is technically beyond the purview of this fact-checking guide, but its discussion by journalists over the past several decades is nevertheless interesting and provides some important lessons that carry over into fact-checking.

Pre-Publication Review

Methods for PPR vary across the industry—because the practice is so contested, there are no general guidelines for how to do it—but here's one possible version of PPR that we find sensible: once a journalist is satisfied with the draft of their story, they call a source and read that draft to them over the phone. At the beginning of the call, they explain to the source that they are willing to engage in conversation about any aspect of the story and to hear any and all requests for corrections. But the only changes they commit to making ahead of time are those related to factual accuracy; the rest is discussed on a case-by-case basis. (In this sense, PPR is similar to working with outside readers, as described in the section above.) The reporter then makes the appropriate changes to the story and submits the final version to the editor.

If a journalist has practised PPR with a source or sources in their story, the editorial team should be well aware of it. The fact checker will step in after PPR has taken place, once the story has been edited and the reporter's research package has been filed, and the reporter should have noted in their annotated draft which sources were read a draft of the story in advance. Even though the source has already encountered the story in draft form, the fact checker should conduct a regular fact-checking call with them in case anything has changed since their review. The fact checker may also have questions of accuracy and clarification that the source and the reporter did not previously discuss.

In this situation, it's important to be clear about the boundaries of your work during the fact-checking call. The source should understand that the scope of PPR is wider than that of fact-checking, since the reporter may be willing to hear criticisms during PPR that the fact checker will not be able to implement as corrections during fact-checking. As always, the fact checker defers to the head of research regarding which changes to a story are necessary or appropriate.

Not allowing sources to review their quotes or a draft of the story sets up an antagonistic relationship from the beginning with a huge power imbalance: the writer and fact checker have an incredible amount of power. Releasing sensitive or inaccurate information can shatter someone's life. So, if the piece is accurate and fair, why is the journalist so unwilling to be in a collaborative relationship with their sources? Most people just want to make sure that they're quoted and described accurately. They don't want to unduly influence the story.

—Chanelle Gallant, activist, organizer, and writer

If you do read your draft back to a source, you have to set up the rules in advance. You can say something like, "It's very unusual in journalism that anyone would ever let you see a piece for publication, but because of the extraordinary nature of this story, I'm going to read the piece to you. I'm doing it for the sake of accuracy, and if there is something that isn't a point of accuracy but that bothers you, I'm willing to hear it out. I can't guarantee that I will change it." This is especially important to do for stories about trauma; it's a way for the reporter to give agency back to the person telling the story.

—Jan Winburn, Mentor, MFA in Narrative Non-Fiction, University of Georgia

I have shown every story I have written to all the sources I could find. At first, I had to read them over the phone, but now I can e-mail them. I ask the people mentioned in the story if they see any errors. They are welcome to argue about the tone, the analysis, or anything else that bothers them, but I change only the things that I am convinced are inaccurate. I've found that all the newsroom fears about doing this have proved to be wrong. The sources have not complained to my editors or given my information to the competition or done much else other than thank me for getting their words right.

—Jay Mathews, "Sources of Accuracy," the Washington Post (2003)

Verbatim Fact-Checking

Typically, during a fact-checking call, the fact checker will paraphrase everything that needs to be checked with the source. The standard exceptions are when fact-checking statements of identity, technical terms, and other cases where language is integral to the fact at hand (see Chapter Five)—but, even then, the verbatim checking rarely extends further than a term or isolated sentence.

The paraphrasing of facts is meant to facilitate the fact-checking process and ensure that the conversation between fact checker and source focuses on only factual correctness, not on the reporter's presentation style or other extraneous considerations. In some cases, however, a fact checker may see a need to verbatim fact-check larger parts of a story with a source who is otherwise unfairly disadvantaged by the traditional journalistic process.

In practice, verbatim fact-checking can take a variety of forms: the fact checker may read relevant excerpts of a story to a source over the phone, send the draft or excerpts via email, or meet with the source in person to show them a printed version and discuss it together. Regardless of how you decide to approach it, you must remember that verbatim fact-checking is not the same as PPR: the fact checker's domain is restricted to questions of accuracy, transparency, and integrity. You should have a thorough conversation with the source ahead of time to make sure that the boundaries of your work are clear, including the kinds of changes they are allowed to request and who will have the final decision about how they are implemented.

Whether practising PPR or verbatim fact-checking, the main thing to remember is that everyone—including the reporter, fact checker, editorial team, and source—should agree beforehand on the rules of the game. Keep in mind that not every publication will be comfortable with the reporter or fact checker sharing the draft of a story with a source, so it's important to always consult with the editorial team before deciding to share excerpts or drafts with a source. Importantly, if you are giving different sources different levels of access and control for the same story, you and the editorial team should think about how to justify these decisions—and about how to make them transparent for readers in the text of the story.

I would say it shows respect to make sure someone said what they meant to say or that what was said is being placed in the right context. And I would simply remind folks that you only get one chance to do that, and that it's a lot easier to maintain respect you've earned than it is to try to gain it back after losing it for lack of responsible behaviour. 

—Nicolas Leech-Crier, Storytelling and Community Networking Liaison, Megaphone

We take it on a case-by-case basis. Generally, the most that I'll allow a writer to send to a source is the direct quotes from them that are used in a piece and any sentences that directly mention them, but not the full article. But we've broken that rule. When working with marginalized sources who are justifiably distrustful of the media, we have sent full articles to them, making clear to them that we're not looking for them to provide feedback on the whole article. I would say it's primarily sending articles to Indigenous interviewees to make sure that the way they and their community have been represented is accurate.

—Saima Desai, Editor, Briarpatch

My thinking around sensitive personal stories is changing a little bit. I'm changing my mind about when it's appropriate to let a source see a portion of that material to make sure that the representation is accurate to what they experienced...There was an example of someone asking to do that last year—a writer who was working on a piece about working under the table. She was asking how much of the piece she could share with the subject. I think that, to get the piece as accurate as possible, sometimes the best thing to do is to just say, "Hey, is this right? Are these two sentences correct?" And the reasons for not doing that—that someone might interfere or hold up publication or whatever—they're less convincing to me as I get a little older.

—Nicholas Hune-Brown, Senior Editor, The Local

Consider compensation and reciprocity.

Compensation often comes up in discussions of reciprocity—a way of approaching research openly, collaboratively, and in such a way that it benefits both the researcher and the participating community. While reciprocity is practised across many disciplines and by many communities, it is particularly foundational to Indigenous research methodologies. The guiding question for journalists is: How can I give back to participants in a story who shared their knowledge with me? In practice, reciprocity can be as simple as sharing a link to the published piece with community members or checking in with participants after the story has been published.

Reciprocity refers to the bi-directional and dynamic interplay between researchers, communities where research is being conducted, and its people. The design and implementation of resilience research calls for information to flow both ways in these partnerships. In collaborative, respectful partnerships, reciprocity involves an exchange leading to shared understandings of the purpose, value, legitimacy, and processes of the research, for the benefit of both science and participating communities.

—Laurie "Lali" D. McCubbin and Jennifer Moniz, "Ethical Principles in Resilience Research: Respect, Relevance, Reciprocity, and Responsibility" (2015)

What about the practice of journalists compensating sources for participating in a story? Journalists generally agree that we should not offer or accept gifts (monetary or other) from sources. This reduces the risk of real or perceived conflicts of interest, problematic power imbalances, and coercion between the journalist and the source. But this isn't an absolute—sometimes, it may be disrespectful not to accept a gift from a source, especially if the gift is part of a cultural practice. When this is the case, you should tell your editorial team; together, you can determine whether disclosure of what was received and why it was accepted should be included in the piece.

The main argument against journalists compensating sources is that it could motivate a source to obfuscate the truth—or lie—in order to tell a journalist what they want to hear. The main argument for the practice is that some people are providing professional services as sources, especially if they are being called on to represent marginalized communities, and they should be compensated for their time and work. What is clear to us is that there are cases in which power dynamics between journalists and the subjects of their work mean that compensation should, at the very least, be considered.

In approaching Elders, there is a protocol. First, it is customary to ask an Elder to help you. Your request should be accompanied by a gift of tobacco and cloth. Sometimes, the Elder will tell you to see another person they believe to have more information. That is not to say that Elder does not know the subject area, but he or she may feel another is more knowledgeable. Patience is important. An Elder does not always answer on the day the question is asked. Sometimes, you are requested to return a few days later. Not only does one learn about listening, but one learns about patience.

—Sharon Venne, "Understanding Treaty 6: An Indigenous Perspective" (1997)

Regardless, it is not up to you, as the fact checker, to make any decisions regarding compensation or reciprocity—though it may be helpful for you to learn about the cultural practices of the sources you may be interviewing and to think about what appropriate behaviour entails in the context of different community norms. Decisions about compensation and reciprocity should already have been made by the time fact-checking takes place; all you must do is ensure that you respect the same arrangements during your fact-checking.

Honour our ongoing work of survival and don't shy away from necessary, though sometimes uncomfortable, conversations about money. Pay us fairly and promptly for our work on your project. Don't assume that we have nothing better to do or that it's not a sacrifice to spend time working with you on a research project. Don't assume we owe you something because of your 'concern' for our community. Don't expect us to work for free. ALL of the time we spend with you working on your project needs to be compensated. Hustling for survival takes time, and if you take our time and don't pay us we might need to hustle in ways that put us at more risk.

—Louise Boilevin et.al., Research 101: A Manifesto for Ethical Research in the Downtown Eastside (2019)

In the history of publishing Indigenous content by non-Indigenous authors in Canada, it has been unusual for the Indigenous Peoples or individuals providing the content to receive compensation. This is partly because conventional copyright does not recognize Indigenous cultural property, so revenues for using Traditional Knowledge and Oral Traditions have not, generally, flowed back to their owners in the form of royalties. Part of it may also come from a notion in conventional publishing that inclusion in a book is its own reward. The contribution of Indigenous Peoples to publications creates wealth. Sharing the wealth is a matter of respect and fairness. Royalties are important. So is direct compensation to individual Indigenous contributors. Collaboration places demands of time and personal expense on individual contributors. These demands are not insignificant, and are only likely to increase as Canadian publishing becomes more reconciliation-aware. Indigenous style requires engagement with Indigenous Peoples, and Indigenous contributors should not be the only ones covering the costs. Indigenous style recognizes the importance of royalties to Indigenous peoples and authors—and compensation to individual Indigenous contributors, and to Indigenous communities and organizations—as part of fair and respectful publishing relationships.

—Gregory Younging, Elements of Indigenous Style: A Guide for Writing By and About Indigenous Peoples (2018)