We've all heard outrageous tales of political correctness, stories of ludicrous victimization, the horrors of particular word choices, and so on. Mostly, these things are reported to occur in the academy. Thanks to books like Roger Kimball's Tenured Radicals and Dinesh D'Souza's Illiberal Education, the academy has been under attack as the bastion of so-called 'political correctness ' for nearly two decades. Stories about victimization seem to spread like wildfire and become favorite tales of the Far Right.

I have often wondered how it is that tales from the academy get such play in the mainstream media. Now I know.

A friend and colleague of mine at University of Southern California has recently been the subject of such a 'PC' story and the events that have transpired in its wake are worthy of a Kafka novella. Peggy Kamuf, a professor of French and Comparative literature, gave a talk several months ago to a group of academics in New York. Her topic: The history of reading. Professor Kamuf gave a very academic talk in nature and traced out two paths in the history of reading. The first, taken by literary theory, focused on St. Augustine's account of the practice of 'silent reading.' The second, the more scientific approach, detailed the ways in which neuroscience has understood the process of reading. Kamuf's conclusion, and I quote, is that 'Literary theorists should read cognitive scientists' (and vice-versa).

Imagine her surprise when her inbox was flooded with angry e-mails decrying her theory as absurd, hateful, and evil.

Such comments were not coming from angry literary theorists, nor were they the work of cognitive scientists. Instead, the cries of protest were coming from angry mothers.

It seems that a member of the audience had heard something different. A freelance writer, Amy Halloran, after listening to a 40 minute talk on St. Augustine and neuroscience somehow concluded that Kamuf's thesis was this: 'That reading aloud to your child is a violent act.' Halloran, using words like 'brutal,' 'painful' and 'terrorism' (none of which appear in the lecture) concluded that this absurd thesis could only be driven by Kamuf's need for recognition and careerism. Others were not so kind, going so far as to suggest Kamuf actually hates children.

Halloran's article, which appeared on Salon.com, was published as commentary on that site's insultingly titled 'Mothers Who Think' section. But the article was more than simple commentary, it was reporting. Halloran was not just saying what she thought about Kamuf's talk, she was reporting what was said. And she was doing it inaccurately.

Halloran's reporting was so deliberately inaccurate and so sensationalistic that I find it hard to believe that the editors of Salon.com didn't see red flags going up all over the place. A well-known and established professor at a major research university (a professor of literature no less), stands up and announces that reading to your children is child abuse? I would think, at the very least, an editor might make a phone call or send an e-mail and check if that is what Kamuf actually said.

Imagine if someone had submitted an article saying 'George Bush says he hates children.' Not that Bush hates children because he supports this or that program (that would be commentary), but that he actually said it.

Any editor worth his or her salt would want evidence for such a claim. For example, you would expect the author to provide direct quotes or details about the speech. Halloran's piece contains none of that information.

Kamuf responded to Halloran's piece, but Salon.com relegated her response to the 'Letters to the Editor' section without providing a link to it from the original essay, in effect, burying it in the site's archives. But this is only the beginning of the story.

According to Scott Rosenberg, Managing Editor of Salon.com, it is not their policy to submit stories such as Halloran's to 'rigourous fact checking,' or indeed any fact checking at all. Instead, he says, 'for most stories we rely on smart editors and the trust they have in their writers,' a model he notes which resembles many daily newspapers.

'It's not infallible, but then no journalistic enterprise is.' The section where Halloran's essay was published contains mostly personal essays, according to Rosenberg, though none of them is marked specifically as commentary or opinion. This was a case of a 'writer who was writing a rant,' Rosenberg said.' She heard something she diagreed with and wrote about it. This is a case of a vigorous disagreement.' In fact, Rosenberg believes that Kamuf's letter of reply sent to Salon.com confirms this, citing the point of disagreement (a comment made in passing about violence).

Halloran's 'commentary' was repeated as fact in a column by John Leo for U.S. News & World Report, where he reports Kamuf as saying that 'reading aloud to one's children is an act of violence' and 'victimization.'

The problem with Leo's report is that it took Halloran's commentary and disagreement for fact. In short, Leo took Halloran's 'rant' and attributed it to Kamuf as if she actually said it. In some ways it is easy to see why, Halloran is describing the event and making statements of fact. Her essay is not marked as commentary, nor does it make any reference to the fact that Kamuf herself doesn't agree with Halloran's characterization of what she said.

From there, Leo's report was picked up by the 'Bonehead of the Day' Web site, where it (along with Kamuf's e-mail address) was e-mailed to more than 23,000 subscribers. To his credit, after examining the essay, Jerry Lerman, the proprietor of Bonehead of the Day, issued both a retraction and an apology to Professor Kamuf.

Most recently, Shelley McKinney, writing for the online publication EnterStageRight.com, a conservative news service, published an essay similar to Halloran's under the title 'Please Abuse Your Children Daily.' She cites Leo's article by way of a British 'e-newsmagazine' where the article's author was 'unnamed.'

It strikes me as curious that McKinney, who was able to track down Kamuf's curriculum vitae (she cites her translation work, where she received her degree, previous teaching positions, and awards she has won) didn't bother to check the 'unnamed' e-story for factual accuracy or try to confirm it with Kamuf herself.

McKinney's story was picked up by FreeRepublic.com, another conservative news site which has a readership of nearly 5 million. With each iteration, Kamuf has to deal with a new flood of angry mail as members of the site are fond of posting her e-mail address encouraging readers to express their outrage directly to her. Such tactics border on harassment.

Kamuf has since posted a Web site chronicling the spread of the story and offering the original essay allowing readers to make up their own minds.

What we need to take note of is the way in which such commentary is becoming the mainstay of the Web and the ways in which sites like Salon.com are blurring the lines between commentary and reporting. As journalism on the Web increasingly gains credibility and has more impact on traditional forms of media, it becomes important that the sites like Salon.com and others avoid catering to sensationalism at the expense of solid journalistic practice.

Unfortunately, what such an event reveals about the Web is the ease with which Web commentary and reporting can take on the very worst characteristics of tabloid journalism. In this case, because Kamuf's alleged statement was so patently absurd, story authors and readers (posting messages in response to the story) often filled in her motives, which ranged from 'weirdness' to maliciousness. Ultimately, it was this (speculation about her possible motives) which became the story, but that story was an illusion, based on things that were never said, never written, and never even considered.

What is the best about the medium of the Web (rapid dissemination, interactivity, popular participation, and accountability) suffers in a context like this one, where commentary and reporting had blurred, and where basic source corroboration and fact checking becomes the responsibility of the subject of the story itself.

Most egregious of all, perhaps, is the fact that what is best about this medium of the Web isn't being used by Salon.com to correct what is clearly a serious error.