Taking Graydon Carter's Vanity Fair editor's letters seriously is probably, on the whole, less pernicious than, say, taking anything Michael Wolff ever writes seriously. Carter doesn't need to be outrageous; he knows that attention will accrue to him no matter what he says (or doesn't), unlike Wolff, whose increasingly desperate pleas for attention will no doubt shortly result in a blog post about how only Michael Wolff has the courage to admit that black people are scary. That said, Carter's current missive irks the hell out of me. Because it's just plain wrong.

Carter starts off by asking if we aren't all "growing just a bit tired of reading about the demise of newspapers-in the papers themselves?" (This is presumably distinct from reading about the demise of newspapers in publications like Vanity Fair.) But Graydon knows how to save the troubled industry: "My suggestion to newspapers everywhere is to give the public a reason to read them again. So here's an idea: get on a big story with widespread public appeal, devote your best resources to it, say a quiet prayer, and swing for the fences." I don't know, that sounds pretty risky. Do you have any examples?

In 2005, Ben Leapman, a reporter for the Telegraph, filed a Freedom of Information Act request asking to see the expenses of six members of Parliament. His request was denied repeatedly, but he had the doggedness of a good journalist, and finally a government "Information Tribunal" ruled that it was in the public's interest that details of the expenses claimed by M.P.'s (who receive an average $172,000 a year in salary, expenses, and housing allowances) should be provided in full. In March 2009 word circulated around Fleet Street that a disc containing the detailed expense reports of all 650 members of the House of Commons had found its way to the Telegraph's offices (possibly in exchange for cash). Lewis didn't merely print the details of the M.P.'s expenses, as so many in these straitened times might have. In what became the paper's biggest investigation in its 154-year history, 45 staff members and numerous lawyers spent two months in a secured area of the paper's offices, secretly preparing an epic series for publication.

Well, see, here's the thing: I've been following this whole expenses scandal story a little bit, and there are a few points that I'd take issue with. Carter is absolutely right to say that it's been a huge success for the Telegraph. However:

• Ben Leapman was just one of a number of people who filed a Freedom of Information request; a Sunday Times reporter and an American freelancer made similar requests. This was by no means a Telegraph exclusive.
• That "possibly in exchange for cash" line? The Telegraph has repeatedly refused to comment on whether or not they paid for the information, but many rival newspapers noted that they had also been approached by a middleman trying to sell the disc. They rejected the offer.
• The information on the disc was going to be made public on July 1 anyway, thanks to those FOI requests. The "paper's biggest investigation in its 154-year history" was presumably the result of shelling out a major amount of money and then having a large staff transcribe the information received.

Was the Telegraph smart to devote so many of its resources to this story? Surely. Was it a great idea to release it in dribs and drabs so readers had to keep clicking on its website and buy its papers? Absolutely. Did they report anything original that would not have been released to the public soon after? Of course not. In promoting this story as the way newspapers can save themselves, Carter is essentially endorsing shelling out to sources. Perhaps that's his intention. Maybe he should have Michael Wolff write a column about how checkbook journalism is actually okay; the guy would probably be up for it.