Dr. Joyner nails it:

There’s a reason that freedom of speech and freedom of press occupy the same space in the Bill of Rights; they’re inextricably linked. Without information to form opinions, the ability to express opinions is meaningless. Conversely, information is useless unless one is free to share one’s opinions.

And there’s more:

America’s early journalists were merely citizens interested in the news. There was no such thing as J-School and the concept of credentialing would have seemed absurd. Over time, however, journalism moved from a craft to a profession, with many of the accouterments of the latter. This has been mostly, but not entirely, positive.

Professionalism arose out of a dark period in American media. Yellow Journalism and a tabloid mentality stripped newspapers of any value, since people had no reason to trust what they were reading. A canon of ethics was necessary, including the expectation that reporters attempt to present information objectively and truthfully. Theoretically, at least, opinion was to be clearly labeled and distinguished from factual reportage. In reality, of course, that ideal was never reached. Given that human beings staff newspapers and other media, it was never attainable to begin with.

Joyner’s discussion of these fundamentals of freedom and the professionalization of the media spring from a larger dialogue about the role and responsibility of citizen journalists.

In his new book Here Comes Everybody, Clay Shirky embarks on a lengthy and useful discussion about how technology has driven the mass amateurization of work previously limited to professionals. His most compelling example harkens back to the invention of the printing press. Moveable type brought information to the masses. It also made thousands of scribes irrelevant. (Or redundant, in the parlance of the UK.)

Needless to say, the scribes didn’t take kindly to the printers. The monks considered the ink-stained wretches beneath them — a scourge undermining the written word. But when, nearly a century after the printing press was invented, a leading scribe wrote a lengthy defense of his profession, calling forth the weight of history and tradition, he sought the broadest audience, and so he ensured his essay was printed on a printed press.

Today, we find the professional media zealously (and ineffectually) guarding the gates to their castle. The difference between professional and amateur is no longer relevant. Each is capable of gathering and distributing the news, and each must have the freedom to do so. Arguing over the scope of credentials is akin to quarreling over how much water to put in the bucket while your house burns to the ground. It’s the freedom that matters, not the credentials.