Washington Post Publisher and CEO Fred Ryan delivers Wake Forest Universitys commencement address

August 16, 2024

On Monday, May 20, Washington Post Publisher and CEO Fred Ryan delivered the 2019 commencement address at Wake Forest University. Ryan reminded graduates to be seekers and stewards of the truth. The full remarks are available below.

Thank you, President Hatch. And thank you to the Wake Forest Class of 2019. It is an honor to speak on your special day.

Yesterday, a very high bar was set for anyone delivering a commencement address. Speaking at Morehouse College, philanthropist Robert F. Smith pledged to pay off all outstanding student loans for the entire graduating class. It is an incredible act of generosity that deserves our admiration.

I wish I could do something that magnanimous. I was thinking of instead offering to pay off any open tabs at Last Resort. But then I realized those bar tabs might actually be more than your student loans.

It’s great to be back on this beautiful campus. Three years ago I was sitting where your parents are now, watching my daughter, Madeline, graduate. It was a proud and memorable day. As a Wake Forest parent, I’ve had many opportunities to observe what a truly special place this university is. Of course, I was a little worried when I first heard that one of the biggest campus events is called “Shag on the Mag.”

But I know from my own family that, while your time at Wake Forest has been an incredible academic experience, it has been so much more. This has been the place where you’ve broadened your minds, growing and maturing along the way. This has been where you’ve challenged and pushed yourselves farther than you thought possible. This has been the source of friendships and relationships that will last you a lifetime. This has been your home.

Leaving home can be hard—especially when you don’t know what lies ahead. Though Wake Forest can be proud that for about 98% of you, what lies ahead is gainful employment or a graduate program. I’d urge you to be especially nice to the other 2%—because someday you’ll probably end up working for them.

While uncertainty can be intimidating, this is a thrilling moment—because what also awaits you is amazing opportunity.

My role today is to share some reflections on how to make the most of that opportunity. Unfortunately, I don’t have any easy responses—because the answers will be as varied and fascinating as each of you are.

But I would like to share some thoughts on a topic that affects all of you. It’s an issue that I deal with every day. And that is: the search for truth in the “fake news” era.

The dangerous behavior that, in my view, crosses a line is when the President of the United States publicly attacks the press, or any of his fellow citizens, as “enemies of the people.”

— Fred Ryan, Publisher and CEO, The Washington Post

In many ways, searching for truth has been at the heart of your experience at Wake Forest.

You’ve spent your years here amassing an enormous collection of facts—by reading books, compiling lab results, taking lecture notes, and memorizing equations. You’ve learned the crucial skills for processing, connecting, and evaluating these facts. And you’ve sought to give them meaning—in research projects, essays, seminar discussions, and, most important, in those late-night dorm-room discussions over pizza and—and I’m not going to ask what else. But I have some ideas.

Part of what makes a Wake Forest education so special is that you have been taught not to settle for the obvious answers or follow the easiest path. You’ve been encouraged to relentlessly seek and discover—and to use what you learn to serve the greater good.

As you’ve pursued the truth at Wake Forest, you’ve been able to trust the information you’ve received and the guidance you’ve been given. It has come from some of the best instructors in the country and in conversations you’ve had with a world-class set of peers. You’ve been able to assume that these exchanges have taken place in good faith, as part of a constructive, and mutually supportive, learning experience.

Unfortunately, not everywhere is like Wake Forest. When you leave here, you will encounter a broad range of perspectives on the truth. My observations come from the media industry, which, in today’s society, does much of the gathering and distribution of information—the building blocks of truth, you might say. And those of us in journalism see alarming efforts to obscure the truth on a daily basis.

Some of the challenge is posed by technology. We live in a time when technology is completely revolutionizing our lives. It’s changed the way we communicate, shop, do business, learn, make friends, get dates, get from one place to the other, and even exercise, eat, and sleep.

Your generation has grown up with these technologies, so you may take many of them for granted. But let me put the speed of this transformation in perspective.

In 1997, the year many of you were born, two Stanford computer-science students had a research project they called Google.com. Today, Google has billions of users. Its name has become an official verb in the Oxford English Dictionary. In fact, some of you are probably Googling right now: “Who is this Fred Ryan guy?”

In 2006, when most of you were in third grade, a messaging service called Twitter was launched. Now, some half a billion tweets are sent each day—and not all of them come from Pennsylvania Avenue. (More on him in a moment.)

And when you were in junior high, a couple of college kids out West were creating an application known as Snapchat. Thanks to you and your friends, that company has gone public and those students are now billionaires.

These are just a few examples of how your lives have been transformed by technology so far. And today, the pace of technological innovation is dramatically accelerating.

For decades, we in the United States have actively embraced digital innovation because we’ve mostly seen the upsides of technology. But with those benefits comes tremendous change. For the news media, this has meant operating in a mode of constant transformation, encountering unexpected opportunities and challenges along the way.

One of the challenges we see comes from the rise of “fake news.” In many ways, this is not a new phenomenon. Intentionally false information published as authoritative fact has been an issue for America since the beginning of our republic. In fact, in 1777, someone created seven fake letters purportedly from George Washington and circulated them to cast doubt on his commitment to the cause of independence from England.

But this sort of “fake news” has never been as widespread or threatening as it is now. In today’s digital world, it’s possible to be a news purveyor without a newsroom—spreading poorly sourced stories, or in some cases intentional outright lies.

Share this articleShare

The speed at which information now races across the internet enables “fake news” to be “weaponized”—strategically targeted to achieve a desired effect—be it to move financial markets, impugn reputations, inflame regional tensions, or influence political campaigns. In fact, an MIT study found that, in the real-time, instantaneous environment of Twitter, fictitious stories spread faster and more widely than the truth.

These swiftly evolving technologies provide a powerful reminder that “fake news”—and other efforts to spread misinformation through our digital networks—will present new, and increasingly complex, challenges in the years ahead.

Combating this problem will not be easy. And the work will fall to each and every one of you. Over time, we’ve seen advances in technology follow a pattern: One generation discovers the science; the next generation contends with the consequences. Your generation inherits the task of balancing digital technology’s promise against its peril. How you respond to these challenges will be felt by society for years to come.

There is another grave threat to the truth, growing more alarming by the day, that your generation must also grapple with. It is the escalating efforts to suppress honest reporting through calculated attacks on serious journalism. These are part of a purposeful campaign, waged by officials who would prefer to wield power free from scrutiny and out of the public eye.

We see this in efforts to delegitimize serious reporting by calling it “fake news”—by equating it with the fabricated stories, delivered through social media, that I spoke of earlier. In these cases, the charge “fake news” is used to deliberately muddy the line between what is real and what is not. It is an attempt to lead us into a “post-truth” era where we’re expected to accept “alternative facts.”

As long as there have been presidents and reporters, there have been institutional and, at times, personal tensions between them. For the most part, these tensions have been a healthy and important part of our democracy.

But today’s environment is entirely different—in ways that should concern all of us, regardless of our politics. I’m not referring to the president’s Twitter tirades: As demeaning as they are to the office, and no matter how inappropriate they may be, we’ve generally come to ignore them.

The dangerous behavior that, in my view, crosses a line is when the President of the United States publicly attacks the press, or any of his fellow citizens, as “enemies of the people.” After all, “enemy” is a word to describe those we use force against. For vulnerable and misguided individuals, these are more than just words—they can be an incitement to violence.

The president and his security team are well aware of the risks that come with such inflammatory attacks. These verbal assaults create a dangerous environment, and he should stop them immediately, before his words lead to physical harm to innocent Americans.

The Washington Post is keenly aware of this campaign against the truth. We feel the best response is the strength and integrity of our reporting. We resist efforts to undermine our work by approaching every story with intense scrutiny, thoughtful analysis, absolute objectivity, and healthy skepticism. And if our reporters can’t get enough sources, or if our facts aren’t triple-checked, we won’t publish. Over the years, this rigor has helped to preserve our reputation for integrity.

I think there’s a lesson in this for all of us. Regardless of who we are, where we work, or what party we support, we can all commit to safeguarding and honoring the truth.

We can also remember the words of former New York Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who said: “Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but not to his own facts.”

We live in a time when the line between opinion and fact is blurring. If you watch MSNBC’s coverage of what President Trump did today, you’ll likely hear a litany of terrible misdeeds. If you watch Fox News, they’ll present several examples of the president’s brilliance. Same day—two totally different accounts of what happened.

The diversification of traditional news media and explosive growth of social media has contributed to our national dialogue. It has also enabled us to design our own personalized versions of the truth. Increasingly, what many seek out is not information, but affirmation.

But if we only seek out news that confirms our existing opinions, we only have part of the story. And the parts we’re missing may be the most important.

So what can each of you do to take on this challenge? Think critically about your news sources, and understand the line between facts and opinions presented around those facts. With your friends and families, with your co-workers, and in your communities, seek out perspectives that are different than your own. In our jobs and social circles, it’s easy to become trapped in an echo chamber where accepted views are repeated and promoted. If you find yourself in an environment where no one challenges your understanding of the world, move around until you find people who will.

Seeking a broad range of information and perspectives is not just something you can do for society—it’s something you can do for yourself. Having your arguments rebutted will make them sharper. Understanding more points of view will allow you engage with a wider group of people. Having more facts at your fingertips makes you more useful—and, let’s face it, a much more interesting date.

The ability to freely seek and share ideas and arguments—even controversial ones—is not something we should take for granted. As Americans, our First Amendment guarantees us free speech and a free press. The Founding Fathers made these guarantees not because they had a particular fondness for reporters, or because journalists in the late 18th century had good lobbyists. They did it because they saw the free exchange of ideas as essential to the success of a free nation.

The experience of millions of people around the world bears this out. In the most repressive countries, sharing—or just possessing—certain information can be dangerous, even deadly. Last year, 66 journalists were killed for their work. Right now, 172 journalists are in prisons around the world just for doing their job.

This issue has touched us personally at The Washington Post. Many of you have followed the story of Jamal Khashoggi, one of our opinion columnists. Jamal was from Saudi Arabia, where he had a long and distinguished career as a journalist. In his writing for The Post, he often focused on his native country—in particular, the abuses of Saudi Arabia’s young crown prince, Mohammed bin Salman.

The prince had initially been hailed worldwide as a reformer, but quickly revealed himself to be anything but. Under his influence, Saudi Arabia has created a humanitarian disaster in Yemen, imprisoned and brutalized women simply for demanding the right to drive, and unleashed a reign of terror upon the Saudi people.

Like any good journalist, Jamal Khashoggi was committed to telling the truth—including the truth about these abuses. But his courage came at a cost. Last fall, Jamal was brutally murdered inside the Saudi consulate in Istanbul by trained assassins acting on orders of the crown prince.

Today, we should ask ourselves what Jamal’s killing means for the rest of us, and how we can respond.

First, we can commit to paying attention to stories like Jamal’s and never turning a blind eye to abuses of press freedom. Because even when threats to journalists happen far away, they end up affecting us at home. To make important decisions, we need accurate information not only about our own countries, but also from abroad. In this way, an attack on a journalist anywhere is an assault on liberty everywhere.

Above all, Jamal’s story should remind us of the power of the truth. It is so powerful that people will kill to keep it hidden. It is so powerful that people like Jamal Khashoggi will give their lives in order to bring it to light.

During your years at Wake Forest, you’ve embraced the motto “Pro Humanitate”—for humanity. In countless ways, you’ve lived out this calling, and I know many of you leave here committed to bettering yourselves so that you can better the lives of others.

Exactly how this unfolds will be unique to each of you. You’ll fulfill this mission in different regions of the country and different parts of the world. In pursuit of this calling, you’ll follow a wide variety of personal goals and professional paths.

But allow me to offer some advice that will apply to all of you, everywhere—whether you become a journalist, teacher, lawyer, doctor, artist, consultant, or entrepreneur. And that is: Embrace your role as a seeker and a steward of the truth.

Always explore for new facts and new perspectives. Go to trusted news sources for the information that is most important to you. Be skeptical of information that seems too good to be true. When speaking of others, especially if you’re attributing motives, use sensitivity and discretion. Think twice before forwarding something, or retweeting it, or reposting it, making sure you are not contributing to the rapid spread of misinformation. And, most of all, respect the truth and those who work hard to uncover it.

In preparing for today’s remarks, I learned that the first Wake Forest commencement speech was delivered in 1858 by Solomon Satchwell and that it lasted two hours. I promise you I won’t try to beat that record. Knowing that I’m the only thing standing between you and your diplomas, I’ll end with one last bit of advice. It may be the most urgent and least controversial that I’ve offered today.

We are all here to celebrate the incredible achievement of the graduates. The successes that brought you to this day amaze and inspire us all. But I doubt that many of you got here entirely on your own. Each of you was helped here by the efforts and devotion of someone else—a parent, a relative, a partner, a friend—who got you through the tough moments and times of doubt along the way.

This is their day as much as yours. So in all the joy and excitement of celebration with your classmates, be sure to find a quiet moment to pull them aside. Give them a hug, and say “thank you,” and recognize their contributions to this achievement, too.

Congratulations to the Class of 2019 and to everyone who has helped prepare you for the world of opportunities that awaits.

Thank you.

ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7uK3SoaCnn6Sku7G70q1lnKedZL2ze5FpaHJnYGp8c3yOsJisoJmjtLW7zWanqKukYr22rsuiqqGdomKwpruMn6menF2nxqK6jJ2cpaGmmr%2B0edaaop5llqS%2Fpr%2FTZqynoaaav7S107KqZpuforqmusKepJ6mpGKupbDRnqqsZw%3D%3D