Related: Dilbert’s Scott Adams says ‘White people should get the hell away from Black people’

Southern California News Group believes that communities are strengthened by embracing diversity and striving for unity as opposed to divisiveness and provocation. With these values in mind, we cannot continue to publish Adams’ work for our audience.

Related: ‘Dilbert,’ Scott Adams lose distributor over racist remarks

Due to the timing of our production schedules, Dilbert will continue to appear in some editions, including this coming Sunday’s papers while the change is implemented.

The Southern California News Group publishes the Orange County Register, Los Angeles Daily News, The Press-Enterprise in Riverside, Daily Breeze in Torrance, Long Beach Press-Telegram, The Sun in San Bernardino, Inland Valley Daily Bulletin, Redlands Daily Facts, San Gabriel Valley Tribune, Pasadena Star-News and Whittier Daily News.

On that day, 19 al-Qaida terrorists took 2,977 innocent, unsuspecting lives. Those who died were, for the most part, regular people going about their daily lives. They were people like you and me. They didn’t see it coming.

President Franklin Delano Roosevelt described the Dec. 7, 1941, attack on Pearl Harbor as a “day that will live in infamy.” On that day, 2,403 Americans died. They were Marines, sailors, soldiers and civilians. Nearly half of them were aboard the USS Arizona. They, too, did not see it coming.

When we reflect on Pearl Harbor, we think of it as the event that precipitated the U.S. entry into World War II, a cataclysmic conflict that defines the 20th century but which ended definitively with the defeat of the Axis powers.

The War on Terror is not so easily concluded or even defined.

I’m not talking about our withdrawal from Afghanistan after 20 years of conflict and the rapid resurgence of the Taliban.

While I suspect that will be a scar on our national psyche, not unlike the fall of Saigon, my thoughts are closer to home.

I’m thinking of increased security at airports and entertainment venues and how, while most of us find these things inconvenient, they are really signs of the new times.

I’m thinking of the encroachments on our freedoms and privacy that we have accepted in the interest of national security.

I’m thinking about travel bans and the political swing back toward isolationism, and I’m wondering whether the tribulations of the past 20 years have made us better or just less tolerant.

And now I’m thinking of Dec. 2, 2015, when two ISIS-inspired terrorists murdered 14 and wounded 22 others at a Christmas party in San Bernardino, which is here, right here, too close to home.

Even 20 years later, we continue to grapple with the legacy of Sept. 11, haunted by the ghosts of the Twin Towers. The attacks that day triggered the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq as well as a new kind of asymmetrical conflict that sadly goes on and will continue to go on.

It has wrought changes in our society and culture and in the fabric of our politics.

It also reminded us that we are strong and resilient, a people who pride themselves on their indomitable will and it has shown us that we are a nation of heroes – from the firefighters and police who rushed toward the smoking skyscrapers to the Marines, soldiers, sailors and other military personnel who have given and risked so much to defend our nation even half-a-world away.

It has also reminded us that our democracy is not so fragile after all and that spirited debate and disagreement are part of our political process.

And it reminded us then, as it should today, that the one thing we all share is that we are all of us Americans, and it is that common bond that makes us strong.

OK, maybe that’s not quite right, given that our politics these days are like a black hole consuming the galaxy that once encircled it. Which is to say: Once it was a bright, shiny sun – the envy of all the world – and then, you know, it went supernova and collapsed upon itself, and now it’s a churning maelstrom that pulls in and pulls apart anything that drifts too close.

But hey, that’s democracy, right? Sometimes we fight. And sometimes we REALLY fight.

But this magazine is not about political fisticuffs.

This magazine is a celebration of our democracy, and we are doing that by profiling all kinds of people who have made politics their life’s work.

But please note: We’ve kind of left out the politicians.

Instead, we are focusing on the people who actually make the process work – the grassroots community organizer, the pollster, the volunteer, the political operative, the campaign manager, the party chair and so on. We’ve picked people from both parties, and we’ve done our best to leave the platforms aside in favor the personal stories in hopes that no matter which party you pledge your allegiance to, you’ll see that all of these people – even the ones you might normally refer to as THEY or THEM or even as something less generous – are just people.

Like you and me.

And like you and me, they are Americans who believe in the promise of our great nation and in the enduring strength of our republic.

In the following pages, you will meet people like pollster Adam Probolsky, whose career was born in front of his father’s bagel shop, and who says, “In California, the world was, and still is, wide open. Anybody can be anything.”

You’ll also meet political consultant Leo Briones, who offers his origin story in his own words, telling how a childhood brush with racism ultimately led him to an abiding interest in history and politics and ultimately set the course of his life: “I chose democracy and politics,” he writes.

And you’ll also meet the new chairwoman of the state Republican Party, Jessica Millan Patterson, whose political career started at 16, when she announced to her parents (both Democrats) that she wanted to volunteer at the Los Angeles County Republican Party Headquarters.

And there are many others as well, from both sides of the proverbial aisle and from all walks of life.

We hope you will find something in common with the new faces you’ll find in these pages, even if that commonality is as simple as the fact that we are all Americans, and together, we can build a better and brighter future.

Together.

Is this the worst year since 1968, the year that Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy were assassinated, the year of the Tet Offensive — a year of trauma and tribulation that still lingers large in our collective memory more than half a century later?

Maybe so.

It certainly feels that way given the social unrest amid the pitched battle with a global pandemic that is increasingly reminiscent of the Spanish flu of 1918.

If you think I’m overstating the impact of COVID-19 in comparing it to the Spanish flu, let’s settle up in 2021 or 2022. Hopes that the virus would die down over the summer appear to be fading as case counts rise and state and county governments scale back their plans to reopen local businesses.

These are dark times, indeed — suitably bearing comparisons to those previous years.

While it might be easy to pray for daylight and hope simply to survive, the real challenge lies in transforming the suffering of this moment into a brighter tomorrow entirely, to emerge stronger for what we’ve weathered together.

I hope we can.

I think we can.

Together.

This magazine takes its name from the last lines of Abraham Lincoln’s first inaugural address, which he gave on March 4, 1861. Lincoln, speaking just a month before the Civil War would break out, called for unity when he said, “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”

Powerful words.

In the spirit of unity and bearing in mind the lofty promise of our United States, we have assembled here a diverse collection of essays to inspire reflection. Here you will find articles that speak to this moment in hope and with at least a little bit of optimism, as well as a few stories about those who are working to make our country a better, more inclusive place.

Our goal is to shine a light on those among us who have labored to make the American dream more achievable for everyone and to show how we can all work together toward common ends for the common good.

Consider this our appeal to the better angels of our collective nature, a call to all to come together in support of the freedoms we hold so dearly.

The future of our precious democracy depends upon it.

In normal times, that would not be news, but in these pandemic days, amid ongoing shelter-in-place orders, it’s practically unbelievable.

In fact, when we reported the story, complete with the photos to prove it, many did not believe it and took to social media to tell us so.

The most noteworthy photo, above, showed a veritable sea of sunbathers basking on the beach while the rest of California was cooped up at home, couch surfing and streaming “Tiger King.”

At first glance, you might think it was a file photo, because how could this be possible amid the novel coronavirus quarantine?

But the photo was indeed shot this past Saturday, April 25, from the Newport Beach pier at 3:30 p.m. Actually, if you really want to get specific, the shutter snapped at 3:30:56 p.m.

The image proved quite popular, or depending on your point view, unpopular.

In hundreds of social media posts, readers let loose with cries of “Lies! Lies! Lies!” and “#FakeNews!” Some commenters accused us of doctoring the photo (one pointed out that some of the umbrellas in the photo appeared to be the same), while others claimed we used trick photography to make the beach look more crowded.

Neither of those things is true.

Photographer Mindy Schauer, who has worked at the Register for more than 20 years, shot the photo from the Newport Beach pier with a long lens because she wanted to get as much of the beach as she could to accurately depict the scene.

“It looks like a ‘Where’s Waldo?’ beach scene with all these people,” she said in a text to her editor.

She was also not the only news photographer on the beach that day. The Guardian and Newsweek have published photos similar to ours.

Schauer also shot other photos of groups of people walking to the beach or playing in the sand. Most of the people in the photos she took that day were not wearing masks, which have become ubiquitous in public places.

This led some commenters to conclude the photos could not have been taken on Saturday or couldn’t have been taken at Newport Beach. There are a lot of people in the photo, but if you really zoom in on it, a couple of them look like they might be wearing masks. Most, however, are obviously not. It should be noted, however, that Newport Beach does not, as of this writing, require masks to be worn in public, as many other cities do.

They just weren’t wearing masks, which isn’t such a stretch considering how crowded the beach was.

Now to be clear, we get plenty of criticism, and as much as we’d like to say that people’s generally low opinion of the mainstream media doesn’t apply so much to local media, we get plenty of feedback from readers who think we’re promoting a political agenda, especially in response to political stories we pick up from national wire services.

The fake-news rejection of a straight-news photo is something new, though.

Maybe it has something to do with the ever-increasing political polarization that has overwhelmed our public discourse.

Or maybe it’s just that people are tired of being stuck at home, tired of the endless procession of case statistics, death tolls and extensions of stay-at-home orders.

Like many of you, we’re tired of those things, too.

Believe me: We want to eat in restaurants, go to the movies and hang out with our friends and families as much as anyone does.

We also thought that what happened at Newport Beach on Saturday was pretty unbelievable.

But we know it happened, because we were there, doing what we do: Reporting the news.

And that’s how we got that photo.

So, you know, we can watch Netflix on any one of three devices on the same television.

If that’s not gratuitous, I don’t know what is.

To be fair, I’ve been experimenting, trying various combinations of streaming with different devices, trying to decide which is the best one, telling myself that, one of these days, I’m going to get rid of most of these contraptions and settle on just one. The best one. Whichever one that is.

And when I do that, I’m going to save a bunch of money. That’s what I tell myself. Yet, I just can’t quite bring myself to cut the cord.

Maybe it’s because it’s not really about the money at all.

Maybe it’s because, growing up, I spent way too many hours camped out in front of the old tube. That’s almost certainly true. In fact, if you were to ask me which was my favorite of the many televisions I’ve owned or watched over the course of my life, I think I would have to say it was the first one – a Zenith that perched on its own little swivel stand in the living room.

It was a color TV (I’m not that old) with a built-in speaker, three knobs and two dials. One dial was for channels that worked – 2, 4, 5, 7, 11 and 13, as I recall – and the other dial was for channels that mostly didn’t work. It also had two antennae on top of the set, which you had to move around to get a clear picture of any given station.

As a child, I loved that TV. After school, I watched Bugs Bunny, Yogi Bear and Scooby Doo, and on Saturday mornings, way back when Saturday mornings were made for cartoons, you couldn’t tear me away. Later, as I grew older and my tastes became more – ahem – sophisticated, it was “Twilight Zone,” “The Rifleman”, “Leave it to Beaver” and “Gilligan’s Island.” And yes, I must confess, there was also “Alice,” “One Day at a Time” and “Three’s Company.” I remember a sleepover at my grandmother’s house when I was about 10 during which I lied to her that, yes, I was indeed allowed to stay up until 8:30 to watch “Three’s Company.” (I am not proud of this.)

I also learned to play video games on that old Zenith, beginning with Pong. That Zenith hung around for nearly 20 years, and eventually, when I was a teen-ager, it went into my bedroom when my parents upgraded to something fancier.

I was in college when cable TV really blew up, and suddenly there were hundreds of channels to choose from. Remarkably, it still sometimes seemed like there was nothing on. When that happened, you went to the video store and rented a movie to watch on the VCR. That was before DVDs came along, but there was a time when you could rent those from a real brick-and-mortar store, too. That all seems so quaint now, with home entertainment systems that make old-time movie houses seem primitive.

Alas, that old Zenith television set is long gone, and even Zenith Electronics, once an American maker of TVs and other consumer electronics, is now owned by South Korea-based LG Electronics.

Forget 500 channels. When it comes to programming these days, you can watch just about anything that’s ever been made on-demand without leaving your living room. And still, somehow, there sometimes manages to be nothing on.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of choices, and most of what I watch these days is streamed in from Netflix, Amazon Prime or Hulu. The only thing I don’t watch on those “channels” is news, for which I still rely on my cable TV app, which does not require the box, but does require some form of subscription.

That’s been my main excuse for keeping the cable TV subscription. I’m a news junkie. Gotta have news. Live.Right now.

I know, I know: There are plenty of news apps from all the major networks available on the Roku or the Fire. But I just can’t quite snip that cable.

Maybe it’s the kid in me that remembers so fondly those days of the Big Three networks?

Or maybe this is the place where I acknowledge that I’ve also held on to my records – real vinyl records – and that I still have a turntable and the first record I ever bought. I’m not saying that because vinyl is on the comeback and now it’s cool to have crates of records and an old-school turntable.

I have a teen-aged daughter who is quick to disabuse me of any such delusion as to my hipness.

(Did he just say “hip” in a way that wasn’t referring to his leg? Yes. Yes, he did.)

I think it’s great that records are back, even if we’re supposed to call it vinyl these days. I was delighted when my daughter wanted the “Hamilton” soundtrack on vinyl for Christmas last year, and even more so when she actually spun it.

I am not, however, rooting for the return of rabbit ears.

I’m good with this next evolution of television.

At least I think so.

The truth is that the hardest part of canceling cable – of cutting the cord – is that it feels like bidding farewell to a bit of my youth. It’s kind of like that time in my mid-20s when I packed up all my records and gave them my childhood friend Chad because there was no room for them in my apartment, and I just didn’t listen to them all that often anymore.

I’m lucky that Chad not only kept my records, but also that he kept them safe. Years later, after finding out that I still had a turntable and still listened to records, he gave them back, and mixed in with my records, were his records. Chad died a year-and-a-half ago, and today, the most precious records in my collection are the ones that have his name in black marker on the labels.

While canceling cable is not exactly like giving away a crate of records, it feels a little bit like that.

I’m probably overthinking it, though. I’m told I do that.

And times change, don’t they?

Or do they?

Most nights, when I get home from work, I see a little pony tail or a little foot sticking up over the back of the purple couch, where my daughter has set up camp, watching not Scooby Doo (though there was a time), but YouTube. Usually, she’s watching some other kid play a video game, and often, it’s a video game she doesn’t even play. I’m not sure why or how this is entertaining, but to her, it absolutely is. It’s nothing like Pong, that’s for sure.

But somehow, it’s kind of comforting.

When I told her I was thinking of dropping cable, she just shrugged. So long as she’s got YouTube and Netflix, she’s good.

I imagine her 20 years from now, standing in her own living room, staring wistfully at some wafer-thin screen on her wall, with a pair of wire-frame virtual reality glasses in her hand, wondering, “Do I really still need that hokey thing?”

And she’ll be reflecting on what it was like to lie on the purple couch with a controller in her hand, back in the old days, when you needed such things.

And she’ll think, “Maybe I do.”

If you’re a Republican, conservative or a supporter of President Donald Trump, you will likely see it as just another example of the failing, fake-news media bashing the president.

If you’re a Democrat, liberal or a die-hard Trump-hater, you will almost certainly think it doesn’t go far enough in castigating our president for his boorish and dangerous behavior.

Today, we’re joining more than 300 other American newspapers in publishing editorials responding to President Trump’s repeated branding of the news media as “enemy of the American people.” You can read ours here.

We’re not doing this because we’re part of some secret left-wing media conspiracy bent on advancing a liberal agenda, as some will almost certainly contend. Nor are we categorically opposed to President Trump and everything he stands for. In fact, the booming economy is a testament to some of his policies.

The truth is that we’re a local news organization, and for us, local issues are a much higher priority than  Washington politics. Consequently, we spend more time talking about how we should cover what’s happening downtown than on which wire story to use on the latest flap from D.C.

Every day, we strive to be fair and balanced in our reporting, and we are accountable to our readers as well as those we write about. When we’re wrong, we take our lumps, and we’re not afraid of being criticized when we’ve fallen short or made a mistake.

But facts matter. The truth matters.

So when the news media in general comes under a sustained attack, as it has over the past 18 months, we not only take exception: We have to stand up.

There is no conspiracy, we are not enemies of the people, and most importantly, we pride ourselves on reporting fairly and accurately. Professional journalism is not cheap and it’s not easy.

Unfortunately, in today’s increasingly polarized media landscape, truth and trustworthiness seem to be in ever shorter supply, and “fake news” has become more than a way to describe a false narrative. It’s become a shield to be used against actual facts that don’t conform to one’s world view. In some cases, it’s become a stick with which to bludgeon the messenger.

The news media is by no means perfect, and some of the president’s concerns are warranted. He has been beaten up by national news organizations and even at times by local news outlets. He is not, however, the first president to tussle with the media. He is merely the latest, and perhaps the loudest.

Nevertheless, his attacks on the media should be seen for what they are: angry responses to unfavorable coverage. While his frustration might sometimes be justified, his responses make things worse instead of better by furthering divisiveness throughout the country.

Fanning the political feud only cheapens the public discourse, cheats the public out of real engagement of the issues and undermines constitutionally protected free speech.

That affects all of us, and not for the better.

Print readers have always paid for the news, though to be fair, the price of a subscription often doesn’t cover even the cost of newsprint and delivery.

The truth is, news gathering has traditionally been funded by advertising, but in these days of declining print advertising, those print dollars just don’t go far enough, and online advertising just isn’t making up the difference.

Real news gathering – the kind done by professional journalists who put their names on their work and who are accountable for its accuracy, fairness and balance – is not cheap.

So this week, we’re launching a digital subscription program, asking those who read our news to support local journalism by subscribing.

The first four weeks is only 99 cents. After that, we’re asking $10 every four weeks. That’s about what you probably pay for any one of a number of streaming video services.

And we’re worth it. We bring you the news, and more importantly, the news that’s relevant to you because it’s near you. Local news.

Our journalists are real people who live in the communities we cover, who go to the places we write about, and who know the issues they cover. We’re real people, and we do real news.

We believe that good journalism serves the people. We take seriously our obligation to inform the public and to ensure government is accountable to the governed. We are committed to the truth, and we are, ourselves, accountable to our readers as well as to those we cover.

We always aspire to get it right, and when, on occasion, we make an error, we own up to it and fix it.

RELATED: FAQs on the digital subscription program

We believe that the free press is vital to democracy.

But news, unfortunately, is not free.

If you weren’t already a fan of local news, you would not be reading this.

We hope, therefore, that you’re fan enough to become part of the family.

If you haven’t already, please subscribe.

In fact, real news is very expensive, especially when gathered and reported by a team of professional journalists.

If you’re reading this in print, you probably know this already as you presumably paid for the newspaper you are reading. (Bless you.)

If, however, you’re reading this on a screen – on your phone, tablet or desktop – odds are you did not pay for it and probably wouldn’t pay for it if we charged for it.

Most non-journalists understand the problem with the news business at this basic level. Fewer people are reading print and more people “are getting their news online” where there just isn’t that much money.

While that’s true, it’s also a pretty clear indication that we’ve done a lousy job of telling this story and explaining how it happened and what it really means. And now, unfortunately, the hour is late.

In the past few months, newspapers across the country have made headlines of their own as they confront an escalating sense of existential dread in the face of continuously declining print revenue and relentless rounds of staff reductions and budget cuts. Most recently, the Denver Post, which is owned by the same private equity firm as us, published a plea for new ownership or a new business strategy on the eve of a major layoff.

Our Southern California publications have had to make similar reductions: Our newsrooms have been cut by nearly half in just the past two years.

Our business model is not just distressed or struggling. That’s putting it too lightly.

It’s broken.

And if news is to survive, it’s unlikely to do it in its current form, as a business that produces high-margin returns. This is not to say that legacy media is not profitable. Most newspapers are, in fact, profitable. They just won’t stay that way without continually cutting expenses to keep ahead of dwindling revenue streams.

And when the news media ownership’s priority is profit, the public service aspect of the Fourth Estate takes a back seat to the balance sheet.

That does not make for good journalism. Or rather, it makes for less good journalism.

It’s been a long slide from those golden days when newspapers were pretty much the only game in town. We owned the presses and we owned the distribution network.

If you wanted to get a message to the community – an advertisement, say – you had to deal with us.

There was plenty of money.

We liked to think that all that advertising was tied to the news, but in reality, it wasn’t tied all that tightly to the news at all.

Today’s digital economy has made that very clear as internet giants such as Google and Facebook dominate the digital ad space based on their ability to deliver content and advertising much more quickly and efficiently than legacy news media ever did or could.

What they don’t do is create content.

But they don’t have to, because there’s plenty of “content” out there, and it turns out that what’s really important is the distribution network (no presses required).

The advertising, of course, is not free. Advertisers pay for it, and they pay a lot. But instead of going to newspaper companies where it offsets the cost of newsgathering, it accrues to the tech giants.

This is a gross oversimplification of a much more complex issue, but suffice it to say that so far no one has really figured out the model for a self-sustaining digital business that supports the kind of newsgathering the American public expects, deserves and needs.

It’s more than a business problem, though, because news is more than just a business. A free press is vital to a well-functioning democracy. That’s why the founding fathers made it part of the Bill of Rights. It’s one of our fundamental freedoms, and it must be protected.

As American journalism declines, corruption blooms.

The Fourth Estate function of news media cannot be undervalued. The role of the free press to serve as a watchdog and to ensure government is accountable to the governed is an important counterweight to the expanding power and reach of the state.

Even those who denounce and decry the mainstream media must recognize that without real journalists in real newsrooms, all that’s left is fake news, or put another way, propaganda. The propagation of fake news on Facebook, for example, has been well documented, and Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg told Congress last week that even his own data was pillaged.

More than just a business, news is a public service, and it must survive.

And to be fair, it will survive. There is too much demand for news and information and an obvious need for vetted, trustworthy reporting.

But change is needed, and quickly.

In a few rare cases, billionaires with a passion for journalism, have stepped up to buy major newspapers. That’s wonderful when it happens, but it’s probably not the solution to the bigger problem. (Although what newsroom wouldn’t want a benevolent billionaire as a benefactor?)

A shift to nonprofit status may be an option.

ProPublica, or closer to home, CalMatters are both good examples of digital nonprofits that fulfill the Fourth Estate function of a free press. In Pennsylvania, the Philadelphia Inquirer and the Daily News have become nonprofits as has the Tampa Bay Times (formerly the St. Petersburg Times) in Florida.

Or it could be a new business strategy that invests in the product and accepts lower margins to finance new initiatives.

Here in Southern California, where we have 11 daily newspapers and more than 20 weeklies, we’re working hard to preserve local journalism even as we try to develop new business models, from events planning and management to a digital subscription strategy that will soon roll out.

Journalism faces enormous challenges in adapting to new modes of media consumption. If the Fourth Estate as we know it is to survive, it will require ownership that is invested in its long-term success and a strategy that prizes purpose over profit.

We’re not giving up.

We do, however, need your support.

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR PROPERTIES:

The Orange County Register | Los Angeles Daily News | The Press-Enterprise | Long Beach Press-Telegram | The Daily Breeze | San Bernardino Sun | Inland Valley Daily Bulletin | San Gabriel Valley Tribune | Pasadena Star-News | Whittier Daily News | Redlands Daily Facts

Frank Pine is executive editor of the Southern California News Group. He can be reached at fpine@scng.com.

HoS No.003 is the latest men’s cologne from Newport Beach-based House of Sillage, which describes the new fragrance as carrying “distinct notes of oceanic sage and volcanic rock accord, blended with scents of ambergris and Akigala wood.” I don’t know about all that, but it certainly does carry the scent of the sea, and where most colognes seem to fade away by the end of a long day, HoS No. 003 lingers. In a good way. But the most important endorsement came from my sweetie, who took one whiff and said, simply​:​ “Yes.”