A long, long time ago, in the mists of early time, I gave a speech at my high school graduation ceremony.

I wasn't the valedictorian, although I ranked pretty close to the top of the class. I think they asked me to speak because I was in the drama club and some of the really smart kids refused to get up in front of a crowd.

I wanted to talk about how upset I was that the school administration had suspended one of my classmates for growing a beard, but that plan fell victim to censorship by the same administration. Instead, I talked about the news media, questioning whether they could be trusted.

Doubtless I would have forgotten about this, but Grandma saved the speech in a drawer with mothballs and reminded me of it some years later, after I had been named editor of a small newspaper in the Chicago suburbs. She suggested that if the media couldn't be trusted, now it would be my fault.

By that time, I was more concerned about whether the government could be trusted than the honesty of the media. But my skepticism toward both institutions was linked (should I say, “seared in my memory”?) by the events of 1968.

My parents moved the family to Chicago that year; I was a junior in high school. That summer, the Democrats held their presidential convention in Chicago.

It was a mess. The actual convention was a cacophony of various factions and interest groups. Outside, protests against the Vietnam War turned violent. Watching the coverage on television, it was difficult to tell who was doing what to whom. Long shelves of books have been written, none adequately, explaining those difficult times.

The protest chant of those days was, “The whole world is watching.” That tried to sum up the protestors’ desire that people everywhere would see the opposition to the war, the violent suppression of protests by the police and the need for the American government to somehow end the war and immediately usher in a new society of love, flowers and whole-grain muffins.

In those days, the media were much less complicated, much less diverse than today. Major newspapers depended on their own reporters and correspondents from a handful of wire services (so called because they sent their stories to newspapers via a phone line connected to a typewriter-like printer). Television consisted of the three major networks and PBS. Cable was in its infancy and had developed primarily to serve people in remote or mountainous areas who could not get regular reception. These early cable services didn't have the multitude of offerings of today's networks, let alone things like premium movies, sports channels and MTV.

Newsrooms did not have computers. Many reporters still used manual typewriters, as opposed to electric models. In fact, newspaper reporters still used carbon paper to make copies of their work as they typed — photocopiers were rare, extremely expensive and cumbersome to use.

But more important than all of this, the Internet didn't exist. No news sites … no search engines … no blogs … no chat rooms … no Drudge … no Google … no personal computers.

If the whole world was watching, it was watching through a narrow set of lenses — those of CBS, ABC, NBC and the local newspaper. (Radio was mostly music in those days — the phenomena of all-news and talk formats had yet to be established.)

If the media were manipulated by the government or protestors, the whole world was watching the manipulation. There weren't options. I got my insight from the evening news.

Folks today have options. If you don't think Dan Rather is telling it to you straight, you can tune in various cable alternatives. You can access virtually every newspaper in the world via the Internet. And you can view various alternative news sources, blogs, opinion sites, advocacy sites and discussion groups. You can find expert opinions about darn near anything.

Of course, the Dan Rathers of the world will argue that they bring experience, judgment and perspective to the reporting of the news. Perhaps … but can the mainline media be trusted?

That's the question I asked three decades ago — and I remain cynical about the answer. But today, as Dan Rather recently learned, “the whole world is watching” has taken on a new meaning.

If CBS (or the government or a politician) isn't totally honest, the Internet's millions of observers are going to find out and tell.

In 1968, if I didn't like the way television covered the convention and anti-war protests, I could complain to my friends and family, write a letter to the editor or give a speech in a hot, crowded gymnasium.

Today, you can search for other points of view, email people around the world, set up your own information site, link to articles in dozens of publications, create your own online magazine, post videotape of events you attend, watch videos and express any and every point of view.

Getting information has become more messy and complicated. Yes, you have all those exciting options — but you have to work at it. If the mainline media could be trusted, it would be so much simpler. But until that day comes, the whole world is watching.

Jim Fair writes from Chicago.