For somebody like me, who is, at least stylistically, more at home in the impressionistic European feuilleton-style than the crisp commentary of the Anglo-Saxon kind (although you need only to read Alistair Cooke's Letter from America radio broadcasts to find that these aren't mutually exclusive) it always seemed an easy claim to make. Perhaps too easy.

If the press is truly fulfilling an important function in a democracy — public enlightenment — isn't what is needed in a time of declining newspaper sales a more "literary" approach to journalism? Inventive, fresh writing would surely top the dullness that is — at least in some American newspapers — known as the arts and culture pages, which sometimes resemble a grab-bag of reviews written according to the same standardised stale formula. It is true that we need publications that are bold enough to denounce, decry and dethrone myths others only tiptoe around. It is equally true that there are various shapes of journalistic expression, each with its purpose and merit, and that in any decent newspaper there should be room for a broad range of stories and styles. There is, however, some truth in the old lesson that literature teaches us: the message is often the least interesting part of a story; it's how you tell it that counts. 

While this may seem like an outrageous idea to most British and American readers (no matter how they take Oscar Wilde's credo that "all art is quite useless"), it would seem equally peculiar to most on the Continent to claim the exact opposite. Now, imagine my dilemma when the story broke — was it a story? — of the battle over the mosque near Ground Zero in Manhattan. None of the reports I read in newspapers or saw on TV seemed able to lay out all the facts, despite reporters vigorously trying to do so. How is anybody going to be able to form a clear opinion on a matter that could define American cultural memory and also prove to be an ideological turning point? 

Walking past a deserted newspaper stand off Fifth Avenue, I felt that the debate around information, leaks, whistleblowing and the dwindling influence of newspapers teaches us predominantly this lesson: in addition to our old journalistic values of truthfulness, objectivity, accuracy, impartiality and fairness, we may need to remind ourselves of another, bolder one: courage.