AI Ethics in Journalism: Beyond Human Baseline

The “human baseline” approach posits that the ethical success of artificial intelligence is achieved when its decision-making mirrors or marginally improves upon that of a competent human.  In the classic “trolley problem,” this implies that if an AI can consistently choose the “lesser of two evils” with more precision than a panicked human, it has cleared the ethical bar.

However, as the media and journalism industry increasingly integrates generative AI and automated editorial systems, it is becoming clear that a “slightly better than human” standard is insufficient. In the context of information dissemination, a human-level baseline for AI is not a gold standard; it is a liability.

While comparing AI to the human baseline in moral dilemmas reveals the machine’s capacity for consistency, it fails to account for the unique accountability required in journalism.  

Because audiences in 2026 are caught in a “breaking verification” crisis where trust is the ultimate currency, an AI that is merely “slightly better” than a biased human is ethically insufficient. To be truly ethical, AI in media must move beyond mimicking human choice to provide a level of transparency and evidentiary rigor that transcends a journalist’s capability.

Our newsrooms are facing a speed-versus-verification dilemma.   The human baseline for a journalist is breaking the story vs. being 100% accurate.   AI’s logic is fundamentally different.   AI shifts control from individual journalists to automated systems optimized for engagement and scalability.   Therefore, an AI that performs ‘slightly better’ than a journalist at producing content quickly may be ethically inferior if its underlying logic lacks the transparency and evidentiary rigor that defines journalistic integrity.

Because so much information is published in many ways across many platforms, audiences are having a difficult time distinguishing fact from fiction. 

“‘Breaking verification’ will replace ‘breaking news’ in 2026, and trust will decide who survives,” according to Vinay Sarawagi, co-founder and CEO of The Media GCC.

Audiences need to see evidence and sources to back up what they see online, because seeing is no longer believing.   If AI only does as well as humans at spotting fakes, it’s not enough. To solve the trust crisis, the AI must be exponentially better at citing sources.

In 2005, Wallach and Allen argued that the principal goal of the discipline of artificial morality is to design artificial agents to act as if they are moral agents. They distinguish between operational morality, in which an AI simply follows pre-programmed human safety rules, and functional morality, in which a system can independently navigate moral dilemmas.  In journalism, an AI that merely mirrors an editor’s baseline choices is operating within a limited framework.   If the media is to serve the public’s best interests, a journalist AI must move toward a functional morality that transcends basic human instinct and provides the transparency and accountability the public expects.

From a strategic standpoint, “slightly better” is a recipe for disaster.   If AI-generated content results in a libel suit or negatively impacts a company’s stock price, the defense that AI is slightly more accurate than an average human is a losing argument.  As the media shifts into what is being termed the ‘Answer Economy’, the traditional value proposition of a newsroom is being disrupted. When AI models synthesize reports into a single summary, the value of a news organization is no longer just the ‘answer’ or the scoop itself, but the auditable trail of evidence that allows that answer to be verified (Seo Ai Club, 2026). If an AI only meets the human baseline for producing a plausible-sounding summary without providing this rigorous, machine-readable proof of its sources, it fails to meet the ethical demands of a 2026 audience.

Note: This is an essay originally written for a course on AI and business strategy at Johns Hopkins University.

References

Wallach, Wendell and Allen, Colin. “Artificial Morality: Top-down, Bottom-up, and Hybrid Approaches.” Ethics and Information Technology volume 7, no. issue 3 (September 2005): 149-155. https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10676-006-0004-4.

Li, Haoran et al. “Artificial Intelligence and Journalistic Ethics: A Comparative Analysis.” Journal of Journalism and Media volume 6, no. issue 3 (August 2025): 105. https://www.mdpi.com/2673-5172/6/3/105.

Mee, S. et al. “Moral judgments of human vs. AI agents in moral dilemmas.” Scientific Reports volume 13, no. issue 1 (February 2023). https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC9951994/.

Simon, Felix.How AI reshapes editorial authority in journalism.” Digital Content Next (June 2025)

Reuters Institute.How will AI reshape the news in 2026? Forecasts by 17 experts around the world.” Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism (January 2025)

Seo Ai Club.The Answer Economy: A Comprehensive Analysis of Answer Engine Optimization Tracking Software and Strategic Market Leadership.” Seo Ai Club (January 2025)

Character vs Reputation: The True Measure of Success

I recently listened to an episode of Freakonomics Radio titled “If You’re Not Cheating, You’re Not Trying,” featuring an interview with disgraced cyclist Floyd Landis. The conversation eventually turned to John Wooden’s famous maxim: “Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are.”

Landis, perhaps unsurprisingly for a man whose career was defined by a massive deception, rejected Wooden’s idealism. He argued that in the “real world,” reputation is the only thing that functions. It’s the currency that buys you the contract, the sponsorship, and the adoration. To Landis, character is just a consolation prize you cling to once your reputation has been torched.

I understand his cynicism. But I fundamentally disagree with it.

Landis views reputation and character as two separate assets you can trade, like stocks. But Wooden’s point was deeper: Reputation is merely the shadow cast by character. You can manipulate the shadow for a while – stand in the right light, distort the angle, make yourself look larger than you are – but eventually, the sun moves. The shadow always snaps back to the reality of the object casting it.

In my media career, I’ve seen this physics play out repeatedly. We live in an industry obsessed with the “shadow” – the ratings, the viral potential, the race to be first. I’m certainly not perfect; I’ve made mistakes in my career. But I’ve learned that the “reputation” of a news organization isn’t built on its speed; it’s built on its credibility. It’s built on the boring, invisible machinery of character: fact-checking, sourcing, and the refusal to cut corners when no one is watching.

A journalist can fake their way to a scoop once. They can build a reputation for being “first.” But if that reputation isn’t grounded in the character trait of accuracy, the fall is inevitable. When the correction comes – and it always does – the reputation doesn’t just dip; it evaporates.

Consider the case of Janet Cooke, a Washington Post writer whose heartbreaking profile of an 8-year-old heroin addict won a Pulitzer Prize. The unraveling of her reputation began, ironically, with a celebration of it.

Her former employer, the Toledo Blade, initially rushed to publish a tribute to their former staffer. But the tone shifted when editors compared the Associated Press biography—based on Cooke’s own resume—against their internal personnel files. While Cooke claimed to be a magna cum laude Vassar graduate with a master’s degree, the Blade’s records told the truth: she had only attended Vassar for a year and held a standard bachelor’s degree. Because the character didn’t match the reputation, the entire structure collapsed. Her prize-winning article, “Jimmy’s World,” was exposed as a complete lie, and the Pulitzer was returned.

I’m seeing a similar tension now as I study the business strategy and ethics of Artificial Intelligence. The temptation in the AI space is to let the “reputation” of the technology—the hype, the valuation, the promise of an AI future—outpace the “character” of the build (safety, bias, alignment).

Landis would argue that we should ride the hype wave because “that’s how the world treats you.” But history suggests that tech bubbles built on reputation without underlying substance always burst. The companies that last are the ones where the internal reality matches the external promise.

Warren Buffett famously said, “It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it.” Unlike Landis, Buffett doesn’t see reputation as a mask to wear; he sees it as a fragile byproduct of integrity.

Bob Iger, the retiring CEO of Disney, reinforces this in his memoir, The Ride of a Lifetime: “True authority and true leadership come from knowing who you are and not pretending to be anything else.” For Iger, character and decency are not merely “soft skills,” but strategic advantages that define a company’s success.

Floyd Landis believes he was punished for playing the game. I would argue he was punished for mistaking the shadow for the man. Ultimately, the spotlight always falls on a person’s character, not their reputation.

Late-Night TV’s Crisis: Adapting to Audience Changes

CBS pulled the plug on The Late Show, but the real story isn’t politics—it’s a failure to follow the audience into the digital age.

Some people on social media think The Late Show was canceled because of Trump. He’s celebrating on Truth Social, but it’s doubtful he had anything to do with it. The more likely reason is precisely what Paramount said: a financial decision.

A business that loses $40 million a year is unlikely to remain in business. Blame a shrinking linear audience, rising production costs, and a failure to evolve into a digital-first, everywhere-content machine. Whether politics played a factor is pure speculation, but the financial and market pressures are written on the wall.

When you look at the big picture, TV talk shows, regardless of daypart, are either mostly being watched in social media clips or being replaced by podcasts – video podcasts. I mostly listen, not watch—but over a billion people now watch podcasts on YouTube.

Streaming has changed everything. In June, streaming accounted for 46% of viewership while broadcast and cable combined for 41.9%. YouTube now leads all platforms in TV and streaming time, according to Nielsen.

If you’re like me, you’re not staying up for late-night shows—you’re catching the clips on YouTube, TikTok, or wherever they land.

The Late Show has declined from nearly 4 million nightly linear viewers a decade ago, but it still gets over 2.5 million viewers and leads the pack. However, Colbert lags behind Kimmel and Fallon on the platforms where more people are watching.

The Tonight Show has 32.7 million YouTube subscribers and 19.2 million on Instagram. Jimmy Kimmel Live follows with 20.7 million on YouTube and 4.3 million on Instagram.

The Late Show? 10M on YouTube and 3.7M on Instagram.

It’s not just losing the attention war, but also the ad war. According to Hollywood Reporter, brands spent an estimated $32.2 million on The Late Show this year—compared to over $50 million each for Kimmel and Fallon. ABC and NBC also bundle in digital ad packages. CBS doesn’t.

With late-night linear ad spend falling from $439 million in 2018 to $221 million in 2024, it’s shocking CBS didn’t chase the audience—and the money—harder.

From all the reports, The Late Show’s downfall looks like a case of a legacy business failing to adapt fast enough.

And for the late-night shows still standing, the future’s uncertain. Even Jimmy Kimmel asked last year if they’ll still exist in a decade.

“There’s a lot to watch and now people can watch anything at anytime, they’ve got all these streaming services. It used to be Johnny Carson was the only thing on at 11:30pm and so everybody watched and then David Letterman was on after Johnny so people watched those two shows but now they’re so many options. Maybe more significantly, the fact that people are easily able to watch your monologue online the next day, it really cancels out the need to watch it when it’s on the air and once people stop watching it when it’s on the air, networks are going to stop paying for it to be made,” he said on the Politickin’ podcast.

As Kimmel noted, good programming is expensive, and appointment TV doesn’t fit this on-demand world.

Podcasts are cheaper and created for how people consume now—scrolling on phones, watching whenever they want.

That may sound like a doomed scenario, but audiences — and algorithms — are fickle. Creators have to stay nimble, and legacy media must evolve.

At the end of the day, content is still king. Late-night isn’t dead — it’s evolving. The shows still deliver; the challenge is distributing and monetizing them across every platform that matters.

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Mastering Manoa Climb: My Personal Victory Over One Steep Hill

There are steeper hills.

For me, though, Manoa Climb has been torture.

I’ve done a lot of biking over the last couple of years, almost 500 miles this year. I struggle with a few hills and often walk, but none has been more frustrating than Manoa Climb.

It’s a roughly 5% grade covering a half-mile. I have started and finished this hill, but have never completed it without walking at least part of the way.

The hill is always at the end of my rides when I am most tired, especially after a long ride.

I did 20 miles today, pacing myself in the hopes I would finally conquer this hill.

The base of the hill is especially steep and usually where I run out of pedal power. Today, I pushed hard up that base, motivated by a few walkers. It’s always more motivating when there’s an audience. I knew in my heart that getting halfway up the hill was key.

When I got to the bend in the road, about a third of the way up, I felt the momentum. I knew I had finally overcome my physical limitations to reach the top without stopping.

So whatever hilltop you are trying to reach, I hope my little story inspires you. Keep climbing!

Challenges and Frustrations of New York City Commuters with Amtrak and NJ Transit

Yeah, that’s me. Stuck on an Amtrak train this summer. Over the last 16 years, I have been a New York City commuter who has relied on Amtrak and NJ Transit. This year is the worst that I can remember. I’ve been stuck on trains for hours at a time and even been forced to stay in the city because the delay was so long that I would have needed to turn around almost as soon as I got home.

The New York Times provides a great analysis of how we got to this point. A lot of people like to blame current management but the real problem with Amtrak began years ago when our leadership from Washington to New York City failed to plan for the future. The century old tunnels that urgently need replacement should have been addressed 20 even 30 years ago. The electrical system that also dates back to the 1930s also should have been addressed decades ago. Instead, politicians kicked the can down the road and here we are with a failing Amtrak rail system that by extension also impacts NJ Transit.

And it’s not just the tunnels and wires, but also the trains. Many of the engines are decades old, according to conductors with whom I have spoken. The bathrooms are often a hot mess. I’ve been in cars where the doors don’t lock or the toilets don’t flush. Talk about gross.

As extreme heat takes hold during the summer, the delays just get worse. The old trains and infrastructure just can’t handle it. While Amtrak has been better since the June meltdown, I still get a daily reminder of potential delays.

NJ Transit is another story as those commuters endured more hell on the rails this past week. They too have endured weeks of frustration, and as my colleague NJ Burkett reported earlier this month, we are still years away from real change.

The frustration for many commuters is not just the delay or the cancelation but the lack of contingency plans when something goes haywire. A few weeks back, a train from Philadelphia to Boston got stuck south of Trenton at 1:00 a.m. Those folks sat on that train until the next one came along – my morning train nearly 6 hours later. That is just wrong but there’s no contingency plan to get stuck commuters off a train and on another form of transportation – unless they are stuck at a station. Then maybe there are alternatives.

The immediate future likely holds more delays, cancelations, and frustrations, and it is clear Amtrak is a long way from getting to where we need it to be. Let’s just hope nothing else stands in the way of building that newer tunnel and finishing the replacement for the portal bridge, or the wait for a better tomorrow will only get longer.

The Media Industry is not dead

This New York Times article about how the media industry is losing its future is pretty doom and gloom, but I’d counter that media industry revenue continues to grow and hit all-time highs year after year. It’s certainly more competitive than ever, but I’d rather have an industry with a wealth of opportunities than one with only a few. And how amazing is it to be alive and working in an industry fueled by amazing technological change? Look how far we have come in such a short amount of time!

The article reminded me of Bob Iger’s book (paid link), his thoughts on disruption, and why many businesses have failed. He wrote, “Courage. The foundation of risk-taking is courage, and in ever-changing, disrupted businesses, risk-taking is essential, innovation is vital, and true innovation occurs only when people have courage. This is true of acquisitions, investments, and capital allocations, and it particularly applies to creative decisions. Fear of failure destroys creativity.”

We can’t be afraid of the future. Change may be disruptive to how things are, but how we adapt makes growth possible.

Eulogy for my father

The last several weeks reminded me of the great writer Dylan Thomas who wrote his most famous poem as his father lay dying.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Old age should burn and rave at close of day.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

My father was the strongest man I knew, the Hungarian bull.

A street fighter, as he would say.

My dad’s last fight left him battered and beaten.

Parkinson’s disease slowly took away his ability to move, to feel, to see, and to communicate.

But the disease did not take away his passion for life.

My father did not go gentle into that good night.

He raged for as long as he could against an opponent he could not defeat.

He died just 8 days after we also lost my mother-in-law, Nancy Flanagan. God bless my wife, Megan, and her family for all that they have endured.

At the time of Nancy’s passing, and knowing about my dad’s failing health, my father-in-law said to me that death makes you wonder what it’s all about.

Philosophers have pondered what it’s all about for centuries, and I have thought about it a lot in remembering my dad and his lessons about life.

The son of immigrants, my dad grew up in Bethlehem with his sister, Loretta.

As a child he developed a love for hunting and fishing.

He ran track in high school where he once got impaled by a javelin.

He worked on cars, and nearly died in one in 1962.

He broke a lot of bones in his life.

My dad was a hard worker first for Air Products, where he met the love of his life, and then for decades at Bethlehem Steel.

As a side hustle, he caddied until he was 40.

He rode bicycles and snowmobiles, was deathly afraid of snakes, rooted for the Oakland Raiders, and liked to play the horses.

He talked a lot about news and politics and the weather and theorized about space and space travel. We launched lots of homemade rockets from our backyard.

He was curious about stuff.

He made me curious, which is probably why I became a newsman.

My dad could have been an artist or an engineer if the cards had fallen right. He did, in fact, get a patent for a railroad idea once.

From my dad, I learned a love of life.

Growing up he often woke me before sunrise with a booming voice echoing from the shower.

The only thing louder than his singing was his snoring. (like father, like son)

Singing in the shower is just one of those things that says a lot about a person.

You knew he had joy in his heart.

Joy that came from my mom.

He loved my mom dearly.

They knew each other for 60 years, and they would have celebrated 57 years of marriage this month.

They made a wonderful life for themselves in the house that they built on Spring Valley Road.

My dad loved the outdoors and planted enough trees that our house appeared to be in the middle of a small forest.

He and my mom spent many years cultivating their yard into a garden of beauty.

We had a pool and a deck and he even built a fireplace in the backyard.

It was a great place to be a kid.

One of my dad’s great lessons was giving the people you love something to look forward to.

My mom reminded me of a story of when I was a kid and he bought ice skates for me, my cousins, and himself, so we could go skating in the mountains.

Before allowing us on that small frozen pond, he wanted to test it.

My dad did not know how to skate, so when he tried to skate across the pond he fell on his backside.

And he would get up and try again and fall again.

This went on for 5 or 6 times and finally my mom said, ‘I think it’s safe, Joe.’

I don’t think he ever put on skates again, but we had fun… and that’s the point.

It wasn’t about him, but about giving us a good time.

His great love was fishing.

He had hundreds if not thousands of lures. We had many fishing trips over the years.

One of the more memorable trips was down the ocean to go crabbing with his friend and my Godfather Tommy Domyan.

Now, Tommy had a decent sized boat, but we had a small fishing boat meant for a lake.

On a calm day we might have been okay, but it was cloudy, and damp, and the bay was choppy.

We were not having much success in our tiny boat and at one point a much bigger boat sped by and waved us.

We got soaked.

I remember being dripping wet and having to scoop the water out of the bottom of the boat.

Fortunately, we made it safely back to shore, and we did catch some crabs.

His favorite spot to fish was Lake Nockamixon, where he once had the largest fish in the lake on the hook.

I did not witness it, but that’s the legend we are creating today.

We did catch a few big fish over the years….

and he shared his love of fishing with many friends and of course my mom.

Mom and dad did lots of things together. They honeymooned in upstate New York and in Massachusetts.

As a family we went on many vacations down the shore and once to Canada.

They racked up mile after mile on bicycles…

and spent many winter weekends snowmobiling in the Poconos.

Snowmobiling was a great passion. He loved it.

There’s nothing quite like going out in the snow in sub-zero temperatures and crossing a frozen Pecks Pond at 50 miles an hour.

He loved to go fast.

Once he went so fast, he hit a bump and the snowmobile went one way and he went the other. The way my mom tells the story, he looked like he was snow angel when she found him.

We spent many winter weekends in Kelharts’ cabin and the foot of High Knob.

God bless the Kelharts for some memorable childhood weekends.

That’s where I learned to play darts, learned not all bathrooms are indoors, and that’s also where we discovered our wonderful dog, Snoopy.

Snoopy was a beagle lost in the woods along with another beagle.

My dad had many dogs over the years. Jay was probably his favorite hunting dog but Snoopy had a special place in his heart.

When we found the owner of the dogs, I watched through the kitchen window as he tried to give my dad money for saving Snoopy and my dad started to cry.

That’s how Snoopy joined our family.

Little did we know at the time, but she was pregnant.

Before we knew it, we had 6 dogs. 6 beagles that barked a lot.

My love for animals comes from my dad. We had dogs, cats, hamsters — including an escape artist named Peter who once burrowed himself in a wall.

We even had a rabbit… piece of advice — you should never buy a rabbit for a girl at Easter.

Dad taught me to make a difference in the lives of all creatures, big and small.

He taught me to be kind and supportive.

When my mom’s dad died and my grandmother had nowhere to go, he invited her into their home for 17 years, making her final years comfortable, happy, and memorable.

My dad, like all of us, was beautifully imperfect.

One thing my dad hated was change or taking any kind of risk.

He never wanted to fly in plane or travel to some far-off place. He liked to stay close to home.

He would be the first to admit he had high anxiety outside of his comfort zone.

But because of who he was, I am who I am.

From my dad, I learned courage.

He taught me to put myself out there, to chase my dreams, and to seize the day.

He may have worried about me, endlessly, but he cheered as I spread my wings.

In his final years, he told me that he was proud of me, but courage is only part of the story.

I could not have accomplished anything without his love and the love of my mom.

I am who I am because of my parents.

I hope that Megan and I have been as good of parents to our kids as our parents were to us.

And kids, I hope that one day you too find life partners as kind and generous as I have found in your mom and our parents found in each other.

So, what is it all about?

I believe it is about Love.

Love.

Love brings us together today.

Love of a spouse, of a parent, of a grandparent, of a brother and an uncle.

Love of family.

Love of friends and neighbors.

Not the love you get, but the love you give.

That’s what matters. The love you give.

And give it your all. And when you think you’ve given your all, give some more.

Because life is hard.

Life is crazy.

Life throws curveballs.

My dad never saw Parkinson’s coming, but every time it knocked him down a little more, he fought back over and over and over again, just like that day on that frozen pond.

My father did not go gentle into that good night because he had love in his heart.

Love for my mom, for me, for his grandkids, for my wife, for you.

Love gives us hope.

So LOVE… to the moon and shoot for the stars…. every day… because tomorrow is not a promise.

Love while you still can.

My dad’s greatest lesson….

It’s a wonderful life when you love someone.

And dad, I will always love you.

The PSA Test may have saved my life

Life will throw you curveballs.

I learned over the course of recent months that I am one of the 270,000 men who will be diagnosed with prostate cancer every year. Without the PSA test, I might be walking around with a ticking time bomb. On Thursday, I will have surgery to remove this uninvited visitor.

Cancer is a scary word because it’s too often wrongly associated with the final chapter. While some cancers are aggressive, others are slow-moving moving like sloths. My point of view is cancer is another of life’s many challenges just like heart disease, diabetes, COVID, and many other illnesses.

I’d be lying if I wrote that this diagnosis did not raise awareness of my mortality. Every breath we take from the moment we are born takes us a step closer to the final destination, but awareness of the journey is most apparent when one can see the end of the road.

For me, that view is still on the horizon. Far enough away that I know I still have time, but close enough to heighten my senses not to waste a minute. I do not fear death but I love life. I have had a wonderful life.

But, I do not want this news to be about me as much as I wish to elevate awareness of the PSA Test. It is as valuable to men over 40 as a mammogram is for women.

Prostate cancer is the second most deadly to men, but it’s also the most survived — if it’s caught early. An annual PSA test makes that possible because otherwise, you might not be aware what’s happening on the inside. Like so many others, I have no major symptoms and am generally in good health.

I have been an advocate for PSA testing since my friend and WPVI colleague Gary Papa was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2003 and a careful watcher of my own prostate health as my dad is a survivor. His diagnosis likely raised my risk of getting it.

While my prognosis is good, I want to stress without the PSA test, I would be unaware that I had anything growing inside me. Ben Stiller, who was 48 when diagnosed, has a similar story and shared how the PSA saved his life.

Please help to spread the word and encourage men in their 40s and older to get this test, even if the doctor says they don’t need it.

I was reminded why awareness is so important after one person recently asked me after learning my diagnosis, “What’s PSA?”

Good question. It’s prostate-specific antigen — a protein produced by both cancerous and noncancerous tissue in the prostate.

A test measures how much PSA is in your blood.

Normal PSA ranges by age, but in general the number should be below 4.0.

My PSA rose over the course of the last year from high 3s to 4.7. Once it’s over 4, your doctor may want to do an MRI to take a closer look.

If the MRI shows anything, then a biopsy is ordered, and results determine your course of action or treatment.

There is debate over who should get a PSA test. My feeling is all men over 40 should get the test at least to know their baseline but also because they could have cancer without any symptoms. Prostate cancer grows slowly and silently, and eventually can metastasize.

You can learn a lot more about the PSA test and prostate health by visiting the National Cancer Institute.

Raise awareness about this important test and make the world a better place.

10 effective tips to help you lose weight

How I lost almost 40 pounds after the pandemic

It’s taken almost 13 months but I have cracked 200 at last.

The pandemic led to bad habits and a ballooning of my body. It has not been an easy road, something of a rollercoaster, but here are 10 tips that might help you on your journey:

1) Read a lot about how others lost weight and got into shape. I don’t mean the gurus of diet and fitness books, but average people. Medium is a terrific source to understand what works — and there are many different methods. Find the ones that fit your personality.

2) Track what you eat. My go-to is MyFitnessPal. It’s a habit you must create to understand how what you are eating impacts you. Eating bad food adds up quickly. Know your calorie limit and stay below it, but also pay attention to other important areas like carbs and sugars.

3) Avoid processed foods as much as possible. Lots of fruits, vegetables, and proteins (limit red meat to no more than once a week).

4) No soda. I have never been a big soda drinker. It’s really bad for you. Water and green tea are much better options. I still drink coffee too with skim milk but no sugar and only in the morning. I also opt for tomato and orange juice as an alternative.

5) Avoid alcohol. I have not been a drinker since I was 25 outside of an occasional glass of wine at a social function.

6) Walk daily at a pace that gets your heart rate up. I walk 2–5 miles per day. Thanks to my family, I have a treadmill under my desk that I use daily (even during Zoom meetings).

7) Resistance train at least every other day. You don’t need dumbbells. Invest $20 in resistance bands or at very least do push-ups and planks.

8. Be consistent and persistent. It’s easy to put it on, especially as we age. Hard work is required and you will have days when you say why am I bothering?! My trend line has gone down, up and down. Don’t give up.

9) Invest in a scale where you can track your weight and other body measurements. Weigh yourself daily and don’t be discouraged if the results take time, because they will. A pound or 2 a week is a positive trend.

10) Invest in an Apple Watch or Fitbit to track your overall health. I also have a low-cost blood pressure monitor, which is also helpful.

Please add your own tips in the comments below!

Wake Up and Fight

I see so many people posting about how awful 2020 has been, good riddance, and all of that. Yes, a lot of bad has happened, but there’s always a bright side to life.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve spent more time with my family this year than I have in the last ten. I feel fortunate to know my kids a little bit better especially as we approach a time in their lives when they will be moving to the next stage. It’s also a good sign that my wife hasn’t killed me yet being home for almost a year.

Together, we made a difference in the lives of many dogs and families by fostering. I’ve lost count how many dogs have passed through these doors this year, but I know all of them have found loving forever homes. We also welcomed an abandoned, half-dead puppy named Bailey into our lives in the middle of the pandemic. She’s a healthy and happy dog now, and the best ballplayer on four legs that we’ve ever had.

Believe it or not, I’ve made more friends this year. I’ve met more people this year than I otherwise might have never met thanks to Zoom. And I probably communicate more and better than ever with my co-workers. How is possible to be so separated by distance yet feel so close? It’s a question I ponder.

Come to think about it, I never would have been hosting trivia nights had this pandemic not happened. That’s been a lot of fun for me and I hope for everyone who has played.

And when you really think about it, technology saved thousands of jobs. How many of us are able to work remotely? Imagine the impact if this pandemic happened in 2010.

I’m thankful every day that I am able to work and grateful for the senior leadership at WABC-TV and the Walt Disney Company trying to guide us through this nightmare. It’s not easy, I know. They’ve had to make some really hard choices and sacrifices.

2020 has been good for learning. I’m reading more than ever. I’ve also spent hours on YouTube learning new Powerpoint and Excel skills. I know a few people who have gotten certificates or started pursuing higher degrees of learning thanks to the remote availability of education. That’s so incredible!

None of this is written to minimize the horror and anxiety of 2020. It’s been awful. I haven’t seen my dad in a year. I’ve seen my mom only a couple times. I know friends who’ve lost 4 and 5 loved ones to COVID, others who are out of work, and a few who stopped talking to relatives and friends over politics. Admittedly, I’ve unfriended a few people out of pure frustration. I probably should not have done that, but all of us make mistakes.

2021 like all years begins with hope. A fresh start. None of us, though, should be fooled into thinking tomorrow will be better than today because the year changed. I was reminded this morning of Woody Guthrie’s resolutions. The last one – “wake up and fight” – seems as meaningful as it was when he wrote those words on New Year’s Day 1943.

When tomorrow comes, wake up and fight. Fight to make the world a better place. It’s up to us to make tomorrow better than today.

Happy New Year, friends.

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