The U.S. Army invades the Fray.

You can learn a lot about Slate's audience by following the  Fray. Articles about professional trades, like trucking or education, draw the attention of workers in the field. Write about politics and you'll attract dogmatic partisans like a flame gathers moths. Thoughtful coverage of culture, literature, or foreign affairs appeals to hardly anybody. And, judging from the state of the Explainer Fray, U.S. service members care deeply about the weather in Iraq.

Last week, David Sessions answered whether Iraq really gets temperatures as high as 130 degrees. The short answer? It doesn't. However, many current and former soldiers are quick to point out that it still feels that way, and many of the environments in which they work really do hit such numbers.

It's a stark illustration of how deeply the Internet has transformed our access to information when soldiers deployed abroad can post to chat boards at home, criticizing the news in real time. While such firsthand reports may not be completely uncensored, they're certainly immediate. Some are probably untrue, given how popular imposture is on the internet. But, there's not much ground to disbelieve the assertions that Iraq is really hot.

Though participation by soldiers in our forum is interesting for its own sake, what they have to say is more interesting still. Over and over and over again the charge is leveled against David Sessions that he has somehow let down our troops by reporting the official temperatures of the Middle East. There are some reasonable critiques, such as lefty warmonger's allegation that the official numbers are rigged to whitewash routine violations of international labor regulations. But the most common complaint is a semi-coherent version of an objection best described by smoresj: that such information could undermine domestic support for our troops by conveying a false impression of an easy standard of living for the troops on the front lines.

We're in sorry shape, indeed, if our troops are depending upon a lie of six degrees. It's sad to see so many troops (plus their friends and family) opposed to a mere statement of truth. I don't think they're giving the folks back home enough credit for realizing that Iraq is hot as hell, despite debate over the exact number of degrees. Nevertheless, there's some fascinating material, too. If you're curious about the mundane details of the war, there's a lot of informative posts in the Explainer Fray. Check them out. GA … 7:30 p.m. PDT

Saturday, September 15, 2007

In two recent "Press Box" columns (Aug. 27 and Sept. 6), Jack Shafer criticized Clark Hoyt, the New York Times public editor, for worrying aloud about the damage inaccurate stories in the paper's Web archives could do to the reputations of their subjects. Shafer objected to the very idea that personal reputation should be considered a personal interest, describing it as something that "actually resides in the minds of others." This may be true, but the distinction has long been irrelevant to the common law, which holds libel a cause of action precisely because of the damage that can flow from others' bad opinions. According to Shafer, the burden of fixing old inaccuracies shouldn't fall upon the shoulders of the New York Times but rather upon the subjects of the stories, who can use the Internet to counteract misinformation.

This stance seems unfairly dismissive of Hoyt's concerns, and more than a little self-serving. Has Jack Shafer, Slate's editor-at-large and a career man of the press, let his self-interest overtake his judgment? The press certainly benefits from unaccountability when publishing falsehoods. It's much less clear, however, that this privilege provides a net benefit to the public.

The potential impact of our online profile these days is undeniable, at least if we're cursed with anything like a distinctive name. Employers routinely Google the names of prospective hires, provoking sharp debates over the ethics of such practices. Many people routinely Google up their romantic interests in advance of the second date. A simple Web search is even a tool for keeping tabs on old friends or family we've lost regular contact with. Whether you like it or not, your Google profile has an increasing power to define you, for good or for ill, in the eyes of others.

Shafer's blithe response to this worry ("Get a Web page") hardly constitutes an adequate response. As bagelwoman points out, few people can count on receiving the link love that Shafer's column provided to Allen Kraus, the victim of a misleading fraud allegation printed in the New York Times. An ordinary individual has little chance of beating the net's leading periodicals in a battle of Web optimization. In the world of ordinary people, exercising ordinary judgment, the consequences of misleading press coverage are nearly inescapable and potentially severe.