When Norman Pearlstine—as editor in chief of Time Inc.—agreed to give prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald a reporter’s notes of a conversation with a “confidential source,” he was vilified for betraying the freedom of the press. But in this hard-hitting inside story, Pearlstine shows that “Plamegate” was not the clear case it seemed to be—and that confidentiality has become a weapon in the White House’s war on the press, a war fought with the unwitting complicity of the press itself.

Watergate and the publication of the Pentagon Papers are the benchmark incidents of government malfeasance exposed by a fearless press. But as Pearlstine explains with great clarity and brio, the press’s hunger for a new Watergate has made reporters vulnerable to officials who use confidentiality to get their message out, even if it means leaking state secrets and breaking the law. Prosecutors appointed to investigate the government have investigated the press instead; news organizations such as The New York Times have defended the principle of confidentiality at all costs—implicitly putting themselves above the law. Meanwhile, the use of unnamed sources has become common in everything from celebrity weeklies to the so-called papers of record.

What is to be done? Pearlstine calls on Congress to pass a federal shield law protecting journalists from the needless intrusions of government; at the same time, he calls on the press to name its sources whenever possible. Off the Record is a powerful argument with the vividness and narrative drive of the best long-form journalism; it is sure to spark controversy among the people who run the government—and among the people who tell their stories.

"The author endured a firestorm of criticism from fellow journalists when, as editor-in-chief of Time Inc., he turned over Time reporter Matt Cooper's notes on confidential sources in the Valerie Plame scandal to special prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald. In this defensive apologia, he explains his reasons for defying what he allows is a hoary journalistic tradition of going to jail to protect sources. Pearlstine, who holds a law degree, cites a high-minded conviction that "journalists aren't above the law," but admits that the "tipping point" in his decision was his formulation of a hairsplitting legalistic distinction between "confidential" sources, who should be protected, and mere "deep-background" anonymous sources, who can be given up to the grand jury. Along the way, he discusses at length the critics who accused him of putting Time-Warner's profits above journalistic principle as well as New York Times reporter Judith Miller, who went to jail to protect her Plame sources (before finally testifying). He also raises some cogent points about journalists' abuses of anonymous sourcing conventions. Readers already persuaded of Pearlstine's pusillanimity may find his lawyerly self-justifications less than convincing." Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)

"'The author endured a firestorm of criticism from fellow journalists when, as editor-in-chief of Time Inc., he turned over Time reporter Matt Cooper's notes on confidential sources in the Valerie Plame scandal to special prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald. In this defensive apologia, he explains his reasons for defying what he allows is a hoary journalistic tradition of going to jail to protect sources. Pearlstine, who holds a law degree, cites a high-minded conviction that 'journalists aren't above the law,' but admits that the 'tipping point' in his decision was his formulation of a hairsplitting legalistic distinction between 'confidential' sources, who should be protected, and mere 'deep-background' anonymous sources, who can be given up to the grand jury. Along the way, he discusses at length the critics who accused him of putting Time-Warner's profits above journalistic principle as well as New York Times reporter Judith Miller, who went to jail to protect her Plame sources (before finally testifying). He also raises some cogent points about journalists' abuses of anonymous sourcing conventions. Readers already persuaded of Pearlstine's pusillanimity may find his lawyerly self-justifications less than convincing.' Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)" Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)

In this powerful inside story, Pearlstine calls on Congress to pass a federal shield law protecting journalists from the needless intrusions of government. At the same time, he calls on the press to name its sources whenever possible.

Norman Pearlstine, editor in chief of Time Inc. from 1995 to 2005, was previously the managing editor of The Wall Street Journal; he trained as a lawyer before making his career as a journalist. He is now a senior adviser to the Carlyle Group. He lives in Manhattan.