Dean Wright is Global Editor, Ethics, Innovation and News Standards. Any opinions are his own.

Kidnapping isn’t funny.

Neither are extortion, hijacking or murder threats.

So why have some in the media been laughing—or at least winking—at people who have been doing precisely that—the criminals who have been hijacking ships and crews off the Horn of Africa and holding them for ransom?

I think it has something to do with what we’ve chosen to call them: pirates.

Perhaps we in the media have all seen too many cartoonish films with Johnny Depp portraying the charming and engaging Jack Sparrow. Or maybe we remember an earlier era when Errol Flynn played a charming and engaging Geoffrey Thorpe who fights for commerce and his country (England) and the affections of a Spanish princess.

Maybe we need a break from the mostly grim coverage of the financial crisis and evaporating savings, continuing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, a tide of gun violence and unrest around the world.

The day after the crew of the Maersk Alabama kept control of their ship after the attack by pirates who later held Capt. Richard Phillips, the front-page headline in the New York Post was: “Yo, Ho, D’oh.”

A Google News search over the past month shows 414 stories with references to “ahoy,” 150 to “avast,” 76 to “walk the plank,” 61 to “Davy Jones,” and 165 to varying spellings of “arrgh.”

The White House press corps was not immune. As the Washington Post’s Dana Milbank wrote (sprinkling his piece with references to Davy Jones, walking the plank and scallywags), “ …the discussion of an American shipping captain’s successful rescue from pirates over the weekend brought the rare sensation of adventure on the high seas to the White House briefing room yesterday—and everybody seemed to enjoy the diversion.”

Maybe we do need the diversion, but this is deadly serious business and I wonder if we’re calling the Somali “pirates” something they aren’t.

At the risk of being accused of splitting hairs (oh, let’s split hairs!), dictionary definitions of “pirate” and “piracy” traditionally have much more to do with theft than kidnapping.

According to Merriam Webster online, “piracy” is defined as “1: an act of robbery on the high seas; also: an act resembling such robbery 2: robbery on the high seas 3a: the unauthorized use of another’s production, invention, or conception especially in infringement of a copyright b: the illicit accessing of broadcast signals.”

Putting aside the third definition (that’s another column), it seems that what the Somali “pirates” are doing is closer to extortion and kidnapping than robbery. They don’t want the grain in the holds of the Maersk Alabama and other famine relief ships headed to Kenya or even the vehicles on the decks of other seized ships. They don’t even want the ships. They want to exchange the ships and their cargoes for a ransom that is a very small percentage of what they are actually worth.

I know this isn’t the Council of Trent and I don’t hold out much hope of persuading my colleagues to call the “pirates” something else, like “kidnappers” or “extortionists” or “hijackers.” But I think we could turn down the “shiver me timbers” index considerably.

There are signs that the coverage of the kidnappings off the Horn of Africa are changing the ways some people think about “pirates.”

In Grand Rapids, Mich., Amy Hekman, a childhood literacy coach, told the Grand Rapids Press that when she’s talking to her children about the incidents, “I’ve been conscious not to use the word ‘pirate.’ I tell them a ship was captured.”

And 10-year-old Jacob Peterson told the paper that he’s not sure he’ll want to reprise his pirate costume for Halloween, because, he said, the Somali “pirates” “seem mean.”

Thank you, Jacob.

Dean Wright is Global Editor, Ethics, Innovation and News Standards. Any opinions are his own.

The global financial crisis may have drained the coffers of investors, businesses and nations, but it’s making our language a bit richer as we discover, revive, coin and develop words and phrases to help make sense of it all.

Some take hold quickly and spread far and wide. “Bailout,” naturally, was voted Word of the Year for 2008 by the American Dialect Society and by Merriam-Webster and was No. 2 on Time’s “Top 10 Buzzwords” (a list that also included “staycation,” a frugal vacation spent close to home). Interestingly—and predictively, as it turned out—the dialect society’s 2007 Word of the Year was “subprime.”

There is a blizzard of language that strives to describe—but sometimes obscures—the strange new financial world we’re in. Television shows, websites and talk radio have exhorted us to buy or sell, have faith or run for our lives, be calm and just trust CEOs or don’t believe a word they say. It’s enough to make you wonder if screenwriter William Goldman’s famous assessment of Hollywood—”Nobody knows anything”—applies here.

We who make our livings in financial journalism have a responsibility to help show the way through the blizzard—to translate and explain, or at least not to make it any more confusing. To that end, here at Reuters News, we’re updating our financial glossary. We want it to be a living document that changes as the world it describes changes. When we’re finished with updates, we plan to open it up to our users as a wiki. In the meantime, take a look and feel free to comment on this blog.

I also want to invite all of you to post on this blog your own words and phrases that capture the essence of the financial situation or help you make sense of it. Or you might want to share words and phrases that you’d like to see disappear from the language because they confuse and obfuscate, rather than illuminate.

Some words describing phenomena and financial tools that are causes or effects of the global financial crisis have quickly come into common usage. For many people, definitions for these important terms are still less than clear. Among them:

• Agflation: “Inflation driven predominantly by rising prices for agricultural products,” according to Word Spy. Reuters was quick to cover this phenomenon and we created a special coverage page, though the earliest use, according to Word Spy, was by the National Post in May 2007.
• Collateralized Debt Obligation: “An asset-backed security which uses a portfolio of bonds or loans as collateral, or security. A sponsor uses the portfolio to set up a special purpose investment vehicle which issues securities or CDOs, sometimes with a higher credit rating than any of the individual underlying assets. There may be reduced transparency in assessing the underlying risks,” according to our financial glossary. That’s not exactly a “Finance for Dummies” explanation, but it’s a complex term. Given what’s happened in the last year, maybe no one really understood CDOs.
• Leverage: Also known as “gearing,” according to our glossary, leverage is the ratio of debt to equity. As we’ve learned painfully in the current crisis, companies with extremely leveraged positions—that is, those who have borrowed much, much more than they own—are left vulnerable to major market fluctuations.
• Securitization: “The creation of asset backed securities. The assets to be securitised are sold to a special purpose vehicle (SPV), thus isolating the borrower from any claims for repayment. The SPV then issues bonds or other debt instruments which can be traded. The money raised by the issuance of the debt is used to pay the borrower for the assets. Mortgages can be securitised as can future royalties from a pop star’s song portfolio,” according to our glossary. Again, that’s not exactly an elementary explanation of this important term. More simply, securitization is a process of pooling assets that produce revenue—like mortgages—slicing them up, and repackaging them as securities that are sold to investors. In the U.S., securitization of mortgages—some of them “subprime” loans taken out by home buyers who couldn’t afford them and later defaulted—was a major contributor to the financial crisis.
• Stagflation: This one pretty much means what it sounds like: “A state in which an economy experiences high inflation accompanied by stagnant economic activity, i.e. low growth and high unemployment,” according to our glossary. Still, for the uninitiated, it might not be quite so obvious without the definition. And we’ve used the word more than once in stories without defining it.

Other words or phrases that are decades or even centuries old that have risen to prominence during this crisis:

• Clawback: “To get back (as money) by strenuous or forceful means (as taxation),” according to Merriam-Webster. This word, which the online dictionary dates to 1953, has been used a lot lately, typically in the context of recouping big bonuses from Wall Street high-fliers whose employers now need taxpayer-funded bailouts just to survive. New York Senator Chuck Schumer, a Democrat who’s received plenty of financial support from Wall Street, said on NBC’s Meet the Press earlier this month that the U.S. needs “really tough oversight” on limits to executive compensation. “I like clawbacks, for instance,” the senator said.
• Decremental: A gradual decrease in quality or quantity, according to Merriam-Webster. The online dictionary says this one has been around since 1610, but it’s certainly appropriate for a 21st century crisis (although “gradual” might not be entirely appropriate).
• Ponzi Scheme: Sadly, with the arrest and guilty plea of Wall Street swindler Bernard Madoff, this one is firmly back in common usage. “A fraudulent investment scheme that promises high returns which are derived from an inflow of new investors’ funds rather than from sound investments. The scheme collapses when there are not enough new investors to pay the old investors. Also known as a Pyramid scheme,” according to our glossary. Generally, we’ve done a good job of clearly explaining what Ponzi schemes are. For instance, this piece about the increase in Ponzi schemes devotes its entire fourth paragraph to this clear definition: “Such schemes use money from new investors to pay distributions and redemptions to existing investors. They typically collapse when new funds dry up.”

There are also a number of tongue-in-cheek phrases that poke fun at the gloomy fiscal landscape.

• Brickor Mortis: “A real estate market in which very few houses are being sold,” according to Word Spy. This one saw a lot of use in the United Kingdom.
• Flat is the new growth (or up): Let’s hope not for long.
• Jingle mail: “The practice of abandoning one’s house and mailing the keys back to the creditor because the mortgage is worth more than the house itself,” according to Word Spy.
• Utility vs. casino: Expresses the divide between conventional and unconventional banking.

Other new words are pure invention. For instance, the Dialogic blog listed the winners of the Washington Post’s Mensa Invitational contest, which “asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting or changing only one letter, and supply a new definition.” I highly recommend the full list, and two or three of them seem appropriate for a new financial crisis vocabulary:

• Cashtration: The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
• Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to begin with.
• Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

And at the Double-Tongued Dictionary, we find a number of words and phrases that have made it into the language, if not the mainstream dictionaries. The Double-Tongued Dictionary is edited by Grant Barrett, who is a co-host of the U.S. public radio program “A Way With Words.”

• Bad bank: Though it might sound like a scolding tut-tut given to irresponsible financial institutions, this term typically refers to the proposal for a giant, government-run bank that would buy toxic (or “bad”) assets from existing banks, hopefully allowing them to return to financial health.
• Econolypse: The situation we may or may not be in.
• I kill you later: This catch phrase was described this way on Bloomberg.com: “Using derivatives contracts known as accumulators, the company wanted to minimize its currency exposure resulting from a A$1.6 billion (US$1.07 billion) investment in an iron ore mine in Australia. Three months later, the Aussie had lost almost 40 percent of its value against the greenback, and Citic Pacific’s losses from the accumulators—so notorious in Hong Kong that investors refer to them as “I kill you laters”—had soared.”
• Jet-pooling: The mode of shared travel that’s been popularly, and sometimes sarcastically, suggested to corporate CEOs who fly on expensive private jets to Washington D.C., where they then asked the U.S. Congress for emergency bailout funds.
• Mini-Madoff: The nickname given to alleged Ponzi schemers whose suspected swindles—while not nearly as massive as Madoff’s US$65 billion fraud—have also been exposed by the economic downturn. As Warren Buffett famously said, “You only find out who is swimming naked when the tide goes out.”
  
• Zombie company: Firms kept alive by banks even though they were insolvent.

We’ve only scratched the surface. I know readers of this website are more plugged into the financial world than many. So let us know the words and phrases that you’ve heard that have enriched the language, if not your brokerage accounts.

Dean Wright is Global Editor, Ethics, Innovation and News Standards. Any opinions are his own.

It’s Oscar time, and I’m again reminded of the debt Hollywood and journalists owe each other. Journalists supply Hollywood with great stories and Hollywood sometimes makes us look cool—or at least worth a couple of hours of time and the price of a ticket.

Put aside the fact that a number of Hollywood movies literally are made from the pages of journalism –“Saturday Night Fever,” “Dog Day Afternoon” and “Adaptation,” to name only a few, were all based on magazine stories. We journalists are also the very characters that Hollywood screenwriters sometimes love.

In addition to sometimes bringing out our cool factor—although, really, what aspiring reporter could resist Robert Redford’s corduroy suits in “All the President’s Men”? — Hollywood movies can illuminate the kind of ethical, moral and values issues that journalists have to deal with.

This year’s slate of Oscar nominees again includes a movie with journalism as its subject. “Frost/Nixon,” the film adaptation of the Broadway play about British journalist David Frost’s pursuit of the ultimate interview with disgraced former U.S. President Richard Nixon, is nominated for five Oscars.

So here is a completely arbitrary list of my top dozen movies about journalism that have something to say about the way we do our jobs–ethical or unethical, selfish or selfless. Aside from that, about the only thing they have in common is that they all were at least nominated for Oscars. I’ll also acknowledge that most of the films are U.S.-oriented, like the Oscars. So I want to especially encourage feedback and suggestions for films from all parts of the world. (A word of warning: There will be plot spoilers.)

The envelope, please.

12: “Roman Holiday” (1953)—A journalist decides that there are things worth more than getting the story– love and happiness, for example. Gregory Peck plays a struggling American reporter for a celebrity-oriented magazine in Rome assigned to cover a princess (Audrey Hepburn) on a state visit. The princess wants a taste of “real” life and escapes her handlers and falls into the arms of Peck, who sees the liaison as a chance to get an exclusive story and escape his down-at-the-heels lifestyle. Naturally, they fall in love and the princess sees just how much fun the common people can have. But Peck decides the exclusive story isn’t worth ruining his subject’s happiness as the princess reluctantly returns to her duties. Extra points for a bearded Eddie Albert’s portrayal of crazed photographer.

11: “Reds” (1981)–A journalist crosses the line from covering his subject to becoming part of the story. Warren Beatty is radical American journalist John Reed, who already writes from a strong point of view. He becomes more involved in leftist party politics, journeys to Russia to cover the 1917 Bolshevik revolution and becomes a semi-official voice for the cause, all the while engaged in a tempestuous love affair with fellow journalist Louise Bryant (Diane Keaton). Extra points for Jack Nicholson’s lecherous but poetic role as Eugene O’Neill.

10: “The Year of Living Dangerously” (1982)—A journalist uses his relationships with a lover and colleagues to further his career before deciding that love really is more important. Mel Gibson is an Australian radio reporter sent to Indonesia in the 1960s as President Sukarno breaks with the West. Working with a dwarf photographer named Billy Kwan (a stunning Oscar turn by Linda Hunt), his career prospers and he falls in love with a British diplomat (Sigourney Weaver), who may or may not be using him. As he gets wind of a coup, he must decide between love and his career. Love wins.

9: “The Killing Fields” (1984)–A foreign correspondent learns he can’t do his job without his courageous local colleagues and that life and friendship are more important than getting the story. Sam Waterston is New York Times correspondent Sydney Schanberg, stationed in Cambodia as the Khmer Rouge take over. His colleague, Cambodian journalist Dith Pran (Haing S. Ngor) sends his family to the U.S. as the Khmer Rouge move in, but Pran stays behind to work with Schanberg and falls victim to the brutal Khmer Rouge. Schanberg is wracked with guilt and works to ensure that Pran also gets credit for the award-winning journalism. After they were reunited, Pran worked in New York for The Times as a photographer and died last year.

8: “Broadcast News” (1987)—A trio of sad television journalists battle over the authenticity of news and learn that style often trumps substance. William Hurt is a handsome but glib and shallow newsman who’s not above staging shots and faking tears. Albert Brooks is his neurotic, by-the-book rival whose ethics, passion and knowledge are no match for Hurt’s hollow charm. Both men are after the romantic and professional attention of Holly Hunter’s producer, whose journalistic skill and success are equalled only by her private, self-destructive depression. Will the authentic journalist and authentic love win out? Don’t count on it.

7: “Citizen Kane” (1941)—It had to be here, didn’t it? A newspaperman’s youthful idealism turns to power-mad self interest. Orson Welles’ magnificent film about the fictional Charles Foster Kane (now who might that be?) tracks the rise and fall of a journalist who got into the business to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted and dies a lonely, loveless tycoon. A great moment in the idealistic phase, as Kane talks about his creed: “…It is my duty, and I’ll let you in on a little secret, it is also my pleasure—to see to it that decent, hard-working people of this community aren’t robbed blind by a pack of money-mad pirates just because they haven’t anybody to look after their interests.”

6: “Frost/Nixon” (2008)—Journalists and politicians can’t live without each other and sometimes do the right things for the wrong reasons. In a gripping piece of drama and history, television journalist David Frost (Michael Sheen) seeks to save his career by landing an exclusive interview with former President Richard Nixon (Frank Langella). Frost wants to get the scoop and make news by forcing the disgraced president to confess. Nixon wants a platform to clear his name -–and the $600,000 fee. The truth wins.

5: “The Insider” (1999)—Corporate self-interest clashes with public-service journalism—and people in the middle get hurt. Al Pacino plays an aggressive television producer who wants to tell the story of whistleblower Jeffrey Wigand’s (Russell Crowe) revelation that the tobacco industry not only knew their product was dangerous, but deliberately tried to increase its addictiveness. When Pacino’s corporate bosses become nervous, Crowe loses his job, his wife and almost everything but his self-respect. Extra points for Christopher Plummer’s complex portrayal of Mike Wallace.

4: “Ace in the Hole” (1951)—A journalist who will do anything—and I mean anything—to get the story and revive a career. Once called one of the most cynical movies ever made, this is certainly one of the most cynical portrayals of a journalist. Kirk Douglas is Chuck Tatum, a down-on-his-luck former big-city journalist who stumbles on a story of a man trapped in a cave in New Mexico. Tatum takes charge and prolongs the rescue effort to milk the story for all the headlines it will take to get him back to the big time. (“Bad news sells best. Cause good news is no news.”) All the while, Tatum is romancing the trapped man’s wife, a blowsy Jan Sterling (“I don’t go to church. Kneeling bags my nylons.”).

3: “Network” (1976)—The line between news and entertainment blurs to invisibility. Released the same year as “All the President’s Men” (below), “Network” portrays journalists in a decidedly less positive way. Longtime network journalist and now ratings-challenged anchor Howard Beale (Peter Finch) has an on-air breakdown after learning he will be fired and promises to kill himself on the air. His struggling network decides to encourage his implosion after Beale’s antics begin to catch on, billing him as the “Mad Prophet of the Air Waves.” Beale’s famous line is, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more,” but the more telling one is: “ But, man, you’re never going to get any truth from us. We’ll tell you anything you want to hear; we lie like hell.”

2: “All the President’s Men” (1976)—Hard-working journalists put their reputations on the line in pursuit of public good. As earnest in its portrayal of journalists as its Oscar-rival “Network” was cynical, Alan Pakula’s film focuses on journalists as investigating, crusading watchdogs. A search of the script fails to turn up any references to “ethics”, “ethical” or “unethical,” but few films about journalists portray reporters—played memorably by Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford—as more dedicated to not just getting the story, but getting it right. And I still get nervous in lonely parking garages.

1: “Good Night, and Good Luck” (2005)—A tough choice for No. 1, but for me no film does a better of job of telling the story of journalists who act courageously and responsibly, fighting powerful corporate pressure to take on injustice. Perpetually wreathed in the tobacco smoke that killed him far too young, storied journalist Edward R. Murrow (David Strathairn) and his producer Fred Friendly (George Clooney) challenge and eventually triumph over Red-baiting Senator Joseph McCarthy. And extra points for Frank Langella (“Frost/Nixon”) and his nuanced portrayal of CBS chief Bill Paley.

So what do you think? What are your favorite journalism movies? What would be on your list of films journalists should either pay attention to or ignore? And again, I’d especially like to see suggestions for films made outside the U.S. Let the fray begin.