Reporter Fights The Times In a Battle for Truth

The Word That Dared Not Speak Its Name: How a Reporter Fought the Times 

Words possess power. For journalists during the nineteen-seventies and eighties, one three-letter adjective was strictly off-limits in most news reports, forcing reporters to find creative ways to communicate with their audience. A single word can define a community, yet for years, a leading American newspaper refused to use it. This refusal created a quiet battleground within the newsroom, where the fight for representation was waged one word at a time. The struggle over the term 'gay' at a major New York newspaper reveals a deeper story about media responsibility, institutional resistance, and the slow march towards progress. 

This conflict came to a head in the 1980s. A prominent national newsmagazine that serves the L.G.B.T.Q. population, The Advocate, published an issue on December 9, 1986, that took the New York paper to task. The magazine's perspective was that the major newspaper showed a profound indifference, or perhaps even animosity, toward the queer population. A notable article within that edition, titled with a clear reference to the forbidden term, concentrated on the paper's persistent refusal to integrate that specific adjective. 

A Rule Etched in Style 

At that point in time, the official internal guide for journalistic style contained a very clear restriction. The guideline mandated that its writers could not use "gay" as an alternative for "homosexual,” with exceptions allowed only when the term appeared inside an organization's official, capitalized name or within quoted material. 

This particular directive felt degrading to gay men, a sentiment David W. Dunlap intimately understood because he counted himself among them. Serving as a young, not-yet-out reporter for the Metro desk, he knew there was no realistic chance of convincing the leadership to change this regulation. The ban had been originally created in 1976 by publisher Arthur Ochs Sulzberger and the paper's executive editor, A.M. Rosenthal. 

A Quiet Rebellion 

Consequently, some journalists chose to engage in a subtle form of protest. Dunlap, for instance, developed stories of special interest to gay audiences and made sure to insert the restricted term as often as he possibly could, while still adhering to the established directive. He also made a conscious effort to limit his use of the more clinical and old-fashioned descriptor, "homosexual." 

His objective was not to be subversive; instead, he wanted to provide readers the feeling that his stories were composed using natural, everyday language. It was a delicate balance to strike, weighing the demands of the style guide against the desire for respectful and accurate representation. This careful navigation of language was a small but significant act of solidarity. 

The Battle for Representation 

The fight over terminology was part of a larger struggle for fair and accurate media representation. Before the 1980s, coverage of gay issues in mainstream publications like the one in New York was often negative or non-existent. A 1963 front-page story, for example, bore the headline "Growth of Overt Homosexuality in City Provokes Wide Concern" and described homosexuality as a "disease" that scientists believed could be "cured." This kind of coverage perpetuated harmful stereotypes and contributed to a climate of fear and misunderstanding. 

The AIDS crisis of the 1980s further highlighted the media's shortcomings. Initially, the epidemic was largely ignored by mainstream outlets. When it was covered, it was often framed as a "gay plague," reinforcing the idea that it was a niche issue affecting only a marginalised group. The NY publication, under the leadership of A.M. Rosenthal, received criticism for its slow response to the crisis, failing to feature it on the front page until 1983, by which time hundreds of New Yorkers had already died. This reluctance to cover the epidemic adequately had devastating consequences, delaying public awareness and government action. 

A Turning Point for Language 

To illustrate his method, Dunlap chronicled the repurposing of a former city school building in Greenwich Village four decades and two years ago. That site would eventually become the modern LGBT Community Center. Within the text of his article, the word "homosexual" showed up just a single time, though it was also in the headline—a caption he had no part in writing—that read, 'Sale of Site to Homosexuals Planned.' Conversely, he successfully worked in the censored adjective on six different occasions through the inclusion of organizational names and direct statements from his sources. 

This calculated use of language was a way to honour the self-identification of the community while adhering to the paper's rules. It demonstrated how a determined reporter could shape the tone of a story, even within strict constraints. The article, while factually reporting on a real estate transaction, also served as a small victory in the ongoing battle for respectful representation. It showed that even within a rigid system, there was room for nuance and advocacy. 

A New Chapter for The Center 

The 1983 establishment of The LGBT Community Center was a landmark achievement for the LGBTQ+ community in NY City. Born from a dream that followed the 1969 Stonewall riots, The Center acquired the former Food and Maritime Trades High School building on West 13th Street. It quickly became a vital hub for a community grappling with the political, medical, and social challenges of the era, particularly the escalating AIDS crisis. 

In its first year, The Center hosted meetings for 60 different groups. Organisations like the Community Health Project, the nation's first community-based HIV clinic, found a home there. The Center provided a safe space for organising, sharing ideas, and building community. It played a crucial role in the 1986 fight for a law in NY City that banned discrimination based on sexual orientation. Over the decades, it has continued to evolve, expanding its services to meet the changing needs of the diverse LGBTQ+ population. 

The Advocate's Challenge 

That specific 1986 edition of The Advocate is now housed in the newspaper's own museum. It serves as a tangible reminder of the tensions that once existed between the newspaper and the queer community. Displayed with it is a version of the old style manual, turned to the page with the entry for "gay." This display captures a pivotal moment in the history of journalistic standards and LGBTQ+ rights. 

The magazine's critique was not an isolated incident. It was part of a broader movement demanding more accurate and respectful media coverage. Activists and organisations like GLAAD consistently challenged news outlets to abandon discriminatory language and practices. The pressure from these groups, combined with the efforts of individuals within the media, slowly began to effect change. The struggle was long and arduous, but it laid the groundwork for a more inclusive and representative media landscape. 

A Shift in Policy 

The restrictive stylebook rule at the paper finally changed in June of 1987. An editor named Thomas Feyer marked the occasion by scrawling a large "X" across that particular entry in his personal edition of the guidebook. His action coincided with a new memorandum circulated by Allan M. Siegal (1940-2022), who was then an assistant managing editor, which officially invalidated the old policy. The new communication from Mr. Siegal announced that the newspaper would, effective immediately, sanction the adjective "gay" as an equivalent for homosexual when writing about subjects of a social, cultural, or political nature. 

This policy shift was a major victory for those who had long advocated for it. It was a recognition that language evolves and that journalistic standards must adapt to reflect a more accurate and respectful understanding of the world. For reporters like Dunlap, the change made their work considerably less complicated in numerous ways. It allowed them to write about the queer population in a way that was both authentic and in line with the newspaper's official policy. 

The Legacy of Change 

The modification to the style guide in New York was part of a broader shift in journalistic practices. Around the same time, the Associated Press also deemed "gay" to be a permissible term, signaling a wider acceptance of the word within the media industry. This evolution in language was a direct result of the persistent advocacy of the queer population and its allies. It reflected a growing understanding that the words used to describe people and communities have a profound impact on public perception. 

The journey from "homosexual" to "gay" was more than just a linguistic evolution; it was a reflection of a changing society. It marked a move away from a pathologizing, clinical view of homosexuality towards a more affirming and self-determined identity. The media's adoption of the term "gay" was a crucial step in this process, helping to normalise and validate the experiences of a long-marginalised community. 

The Evolution of the Press 

The story of how one of the nation's top newspapers handled this specific word is a powerful illustration of the media's role in shaping social norms. For years, the newspaper's adherence to an outdated and offensive term reflected a broader societal prejudice. However, through the persistent efforts of activists, advocates, and individual journalists, the institution was eventually compelled to change. This transformation, while slow and hard-won, ultimately led to a more inclusive and accurate representation of the queer population. 

Today, the standards for reporting on LGBTQ+ issues are vastly different. Style guides from organisations like the National Union of Journalists and GLAAD provide detailed guidance on using respectful and accurate terminology. Journalists are encouraged to use a person's preferred pronouns and to avoid language that sensationalises or stereotypes. This shift reflects a deeper understanding of the media's responsibility to report on all communities with fairness and sensitivity. The quiet rebellion of one reporter has become the standard practice of a more conscious and inclusive press.