Earlier this month, Grantland published a feature profile of Dr. Essay Anne Vanderbilt, the reclusive and eccentric scientist behind a scientifically advanced golf putter named the Oracle GXI. At least, that’s how the story begins — by the end of the article, Vanderbilt has committed suicide and been outed as a trans woman, all in the name of a good story.
To be clear, it is a good story; I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. Caleb Hannan, the writer behind it, is clearly talented. His 8000 word piece is packed with unexpected twists and turns, including the revelation that most of Vanderbilt’s professional credentials were elaborate fabrications. Hannan digs deep into Vanderbilt’s past, uncovering a series of lies and deceits that make for what might be the most engaging article ever written about golf putters.
But Hannan and Grantland made the mistake of publishing an article that values storytelling over ethics — Vanderbilt is never considered as anything more than a weirdo and a con artist, and her ultimate suicide is treated as the climax of an elaborate fiction rather than the actual death of a human being.
Hannan calls it “an odd experience” to be writing a eulogy for a woman who by all accounts hated him, but he never considers the privilege he has in presenting the story from his point of view. His is the last word on Dr. V’s story; we’ll never hear her side of it.
Most of the controversy surrounding the article revolves around Hannan’s discovery that Vanderbilt is a trans woman; he describes a chill running up his spine upon learning this fact, and proceeds to treat the revelation as further evidence of Vanderbilt’s deceptive nature. Delving deeper into Vanderbilt’s past as Stephen, Hannan refers to her as “a troubled man who had invented a new life for himself.”
To publicly out Vanderbilt as trans on an international news platform is one thing; to refer to her by a male pronoun in any context is not only ignorant, but belittling to her identity as a trans woman. Hannan even outed Vanderbilt to one of her investors before her death, a move that would more accurately be described as witch hunting than journalism. He may not have been aware of the gravity of his actions, but that’s hardly an adequate excuse.
Vanderbilt’s suicide is treated as the climax of an elaborate fiction rather than the death of a human being.
Grantland’s editor in chief, Bill Simmons, recently published a 3000 word mea culpa explaining the editorial process behind the piece, apologizing both to his readers and to Hannan. He admitted that no trans people were consulted before running the piece, and admits that Grantland “made an indefensible mistake” in publishing the article.
Many have gone so far as to argue that Hannan murdered Vanderbilt, which is an indefensible accusation — it’s ludicrous to assume that the writer’s article was the sole factor, or even a contributing factor, in Dr. V’s suicide. But this doesn’t absolve Hannan of his guilt.
As an editor, I understand the challenges that come with working on a story like this one, but Hannan, along with Grantland’s editorial staff, had every opportunity to question whether the article was an acceptable one to publish. It wasn’t.
Journalists should do more than tell stories; they have a moral responsibility to treat their subjects with even-handedness and respect, and to tell their stories with that same level of respect. Hannan’s piece may be good writing, but it’s bad journalism — as soon as we begin to value stories above people, we lose touch with the world we’re attempting to reflect.
