Idaho Times phone situation "untenable"

Every Monday morning is the same: having dishabituated to the newsroom phones' constant ringing, the grim succession of reporters in turn thrust open the office door and are greeted, as though landing on some terrifying exoplanet, by a cacophonous chaos of deranged, digital crickets. As quickly as some serendipitous rhythm emerges from this frenzy, it is smothered by pervasive dissonance: grating sonority that emanates from all angles like some perverse surround-sound system.

This is not to say that the phones go unanswered. On the contrary, we attempt with desperation to attend to their tuneless wails—if only for a moment's peace—but it is plainly impossible to keep up. Upon bidding one caller a good day and hanging up the receiver, one is met immediately with a backlog a dozen or more callers long, each more disgruntled by the delay.

Such is the reality of the Idaho Times office—to pursue any potential lead is to forsake hundreds of others: others that may be just as newsworthy, just as compelling, just as heartbreaking. So what qualifies us to make this decision? One is reminded of that much-derided staple of undergraduate moral philosophy—of the tension between deontological and utilitarian ethics. Even if no runaway train threatens to plow into and obliterate our cherished audience, there is nonetheless a decision that must be made. Is inactivity preferable, starving citizens of potentially valuable news, but at least doing so indiscriminately for all would-be news items? No, it can't be. We can but try.

The migraine of discordant tones gathers its usual midday momentum. "I can't fucking do this. I'm sorry", Sara says, "I'm sorry". Our third intern in as many weeks hangs up the receiver for a final time.