I think all good reporting is the same thing - the best
I think all good reporting is the same thing - the best attainable version of the truth.
Carl Bernstein, whose pen helped unravel the hidden rot of power during the Watergate scandal, gave us a definition that echoes with humility and weight: “I think all good reporting is the same thing – the best attainable version of the truth.” These words are not only about journalism, but about the eternal human struggle with truth itself. For truth is vast, like the ocean—no man can grasp it whole. At best, we gather fragments, glimpses, reflections upon the surface. Bernstein reminds us that the task of the reporter, and indeed of every seeker, is not perfection, but pursuit: the unrelenting labor to reach the best attainable version of truth.
In his wisdom, there is also a confession. No mortal voice, no newspaper column, no chronicle of history can claim to hold the totality of truth. Bias, limitation, and perspective cloud every account. But this is no excuse for surrender. Instead, it calls forth perseverance—the noble duty to strip away falsehood, to resist distortion, and to refine our vision until what remains, though incomplete, is honest. Thus Bernstein teaches that good reporting is not an act of arrogance, but of discipline and humility: it admits its limits while striving with all its might to approach the eternal light of truth.
The origin of these words lies in the crucible of Watergate. Together with Bob Woodward, Bernstein followed a trail of whispers, documents, and denials. They pieced together fragments, knowing that each piece might be flawed, but that each could be tested, cross-checked, and refined until a picture emerged. That picture—imperfect but faithful—revealed corruption at the highest level of power. Theirs was not omniscience; it was the best attainable version of the truth, and it was enough to awaken a nation and topple a president.
History abounds with similar examples. Consider the chronicles of Herodotus, called the “Father of History.” His accounts were riddled with stories, myths, and rumors, yet he labored to sift through them, to preserve what he could. Though imperfect, his work became the foundation of our knowledge of the ancient world. Or think of the journalists who exposed the horrors of the Vietnam War—not omniscient, but determined, they brought home images and testimonies that shattered illusions and forced the world to reckon with the cost of conflict. In each case, what was offered was not pure truth, but the best attainable version, and it changed the course of history.
There is a lesson here beyond reporting: in every walk of life, we must learn to embrace the pursuit of truth while acknowledging our limitations. The parent guiding a child, the leader making decisions, the teacher shaping young minds—all of these, like the reporter, can only work with what is attainable. But if they work with honesty, diligence, and humility, the fragment of truth they hold can bring forth light enough to guide others. Truth pursued, even imperfectly, is greater than lies perfectly polished.
This wisdom also humbles us. It warns us not to idolize a single account, a single voice, or even our own perspective. What we see is partial, what we know is incomplete. To be wise is to seek corroboration, to listen widely, to test what we hear against evidence and reason. In this way, we guard against arrogance, and we come closer to that “best attainable version” that Bernstein praised.
Practically, let us live this teaching by becoming seekers of truth in all things. Read broadly, question deeply, and weigh carefully. Do not demand perfection of yourself or others, but demand honesty and effort. When you speak, do so with humility, knowing your words may be flawed, yet let them be faithful to what you know. And when you listen, do so with discernment, recognizing that every account is partial, yet together they may form a clearer picture.
For in the end, truth belongs fully to no man, but its pursuit belongs to us all. Whether as reporters, as citizens, as parents, or as friends, our duty is the same: to strive, tirelessly, for the best attainable version of the truth. For in that striving lies the strength of nations, the wisdom of generations, and the dignity of the human soul.
BTBui Tien
Carl Bernstein’s quote reminds me of how important it is for journalists to remain as neutral as possible while reporting. But how does a reporter determine what the 'best version' of the truth is when there’s so much information available? How do they ensure they’re not distorting facts, even unintentionally? It makes me think about the pressure reporters must feel to get it right while presenting an unbiased story.
DNNguyen duy nhaN
I like the idea of 'the best attainable version' because it acknowledges that truth can be elusive. But it also makes me think about how much of reporting is subjective. Can truth ever be entirely factual, or do we always bring our own understanding and experiences into it? At what point does the pursuit of truth become an interpretation rather than the truth itself?
TPLinh Phung Thi Phuong
This quote really makes me reflect on the ethical responsibility of journalists. How much can they shape or filter the truth without losing its essence? Is the best attainable version always the most objective one? What if the truth is complex and conflicting, and different people may interpret it in different ways? Can journalism ever be truly unbiased, or is it always shaped by human perspective?
AMAcc Mat
I wonder if Bernstein is saying that truth is something we can always get closer to, but never fully grasp. Is there really a perfect version of truth in journalism, or is it a constant process of refining our understanding? How do reporters decide what 'the best version' of the truth is, especially when there are so many different perspectives on a single issue?
Hhjgbhargvpb
This quote really speaks to the idea of striving for objectivity in reporting, doesn't it? But is the 'best attainable version' truly the truth, or is it just the closest we can get? It makes me think about how personal biases, even in the best reporters, might shape the truth they report. Can we ever fully reach the truth, or are we always just approaching it?