(This column, written for the Wisconsin Newspaper Association’s member newsletter, was published in April 2015.)
Ryan Honl reached out to several local and national media outlets late last year because he was concerned about the overprescribing of pain killers at the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs Medical Center, where he worked in Tomah, Wis.
No one returned his emails. He received no calls.
Honl had tried all channels of government and gone through the appropriate internal processes. Nothing worked. The media was his last hope.
“I would say the biggest problem was getting to a human being that actually listened,” said Honl, a Gulf War veteran and West Point graduate who resigned in October from his position as a secretary in the hospital’s mental health clinic. He’d worked there for two months and filed for federal whistleblower protection before he left. “So, I actually gave up … and tried to move on with my life.”
But Honl’s persistent nature eventually got the best of him, as clinicians, administrators and families of veterans continued to come to him in hopes of exposing the abusive and sometimes fatal practices at Tomah’s VA. He tried again in November, after reading a story from the Center for Investigative Reporting’s Aaron Glantz entitled “If you want to help veterans, get attention by shaming the VA.” He shot an email off to Glantz, “not expecting to hear anything back.”
Within minutes, Glantz emailed him asking for the information he had. That night, he called Honl.
What followed was a succession of stories revealing egregious overprescribing of narcotics that resulted in multiple deaths, several congressional hearings, the removal of the hospital’s chief of staff and director, and the filing of an ethics complaint accusing Sen. Tammy Baldwin for engaging in a political coverup regarding the situation.
All of this, because one reporter took the time to investigate Honl’s claims.
“The government and corporations and any big bureaucracy, the only thing they fear is the press,” Honl said. “You’re literally a dangerous person when you’re a journalist. …You become really dangerous when you start asking questions and turning over rocks and shining flashlights.
“The government fears a good journalist and it’s supposed to be that way.”
Honl was honored last month with an Openness Award from the Freedom of Information Council. He received a standing ovation from a room full of journalists. His inspiring story serves as a reminder of one of our industry’s most basic principles.
It’s a principle that was underscored throughout the night, as Meg Kissinger — a (Milwaukee) Journal Sentinel reporter known for having a “profound and uncommon compassion for the people she is writing about” — was presented with this year’s Distinguished Wisconsin Watchdog Award. Kissinger’s empathy has allowed her to be the voice of the particularly vulnerable.
It’s easy to get caught up in the daily grind and not pay as much attention to the tipster on the other end of the phone line, or the person who wrote you an email concerned about the treatment of patients at a local nursing home. Maybe you just don’t have the time. Maybe the story seems impossible to prove. Maybe the tip doesn’t seem credible.
But before moving on, stop to ask yourself, “What if it is true?”
Honl suggests a type of Constitution-based news judgment barometer. The First Amendment grants us freedom of the press, but also carries with it a responsibility to be the public’s watchdog. Would the potential story fulfill that role?
“It’s the check and balance — the fourth estate. When all three branches fail, which they did in my case, then you have the press,” Honl said. “The press has this responsibility that goes way beyond just informing the public of day-to-day stuff.
“It’s literally the salvation of a nation.”