WHEN CHRIS FARAONE NAMED NAMES IN  CJR THIS YEAR, THE NEW YORK TIMES TOOK THE RAP.

CARTOON BY TOM JELLETT

The New York Times rarely refers to rock stars such as Alice Cooper, Moby, and Elton John by their birth names. With few exceptions, Vincent Furnier, Richard Melville Hall and Reginald Dwight get free passes on their alter egos, as do the likes of American Idol icon Clay Aiken (Clayton Grissom) and anti-Christ superstar Marilyn Manson (Brian Warner).

For some reason, though, the unofficial guideline that once compelled former Times critic Donal Henahan to make subsequent reference to Iggy Pop and Sid Vicious as Mr Pop and Mr Vicious (instead of Mr [James] Osterberg and Mr [Simon John] Beverly, or even Pop and Vicious) does not apply, apparently, to hip-hop artists. At the Times, the penalty for being a rapper is twofold: you are routinely referred to by your birth name, and you are rarely addressed as “Mr”. This nominal double standard surfaces from time to time in hip-hop articles throughoutthe mainstream press, but due to the Times’ extensive urban-music coverage and its eternal struggle with honorific conformity, rap handles seem to inspire more copy dilemmas there.

Despite selling several million discs and serving as president of Def Jam Recordings under his alias, Jay-Z still gets pegged as Shawn Carter. The Times’s David M. Halbfinger and Jeff Leeds did so in reporting on the Brooklyn rap entrepreneur’s 2007 comeback, as did Los Angeles Times staff writer Richard Cromelin and the Boston Globe’s Sarah Rodman. No hip-hop artist is immune – Wu-Tang Clan ringleader RZA (Robert Diggs), Queens heavyweight 50 Cent (Curtis Jackson), and urban mogul Diddy (Sean Combs) are all routinely birth-named in the mainstream press.

Sam Sifton, the Times’ culture editor, says that while such decisions are handled on a case-bycase basis, rap artists often get special treatment. “There’s a big difference between [Houston rapper] Bun B and Tony Bennett,” Sifton says, referring to Bernard Freeman and Anthony Dominick Benedetto, respectively. “Tony Bennett took a stage name, which I think is a little different from taking an alias. Someone like Jay-Z can be Mr Carter, certainly, or he can just be Jay-Z, but he’s never going to be Mr Z.”

But is there a meaningful distinction between a “stage name” and an “alias”? That Sifton made an example of Jay-Z – rather than someone like, say, Ghostface Killah, whose chosen moniker is further outside the mainstream nomenclature – suggests that at the Times, at least, there is, and that rappers are in a class by themselves. Why else would a performer from beyond the rap realm, such as Alicia Keys – who took a stage name (or devised an alias) based on the instrument she plays – have never been outed as Alicia Augello-Cook? In Kelefa Sanneh’s October 5, 2003, Times CD roundup, Outkast rappers André 3000 (André Benjamin) and Big Boi (Antwan Patton) got name-dropped, while Erykah Badu’s birth name (Erica Wright) was never mentioned.

Even more confusing are articles that seem to follow no logic whatsoever: a December 3, 2006 Times profile on celebrity Sirius Radio hosts refers to rap personality Ludacris as Christopher Bridges (and as “Mr Bridges” in subsequent references), but allows Eminem (Marshall Mathers), Snoop Dogg (Calvin Broadus) and Bob Dylan (Robert Zimmerman) to use their stage names. On second reference, though, Dylan is “Mr Dylan,” while Eminem remains Eminem; Snoop is only  mentioned once, but judging by former Times treatments he would have been called “Snoop” or “Snoop Dogg” had his name come up again. “If you look in our archives, which we famously refer to as our compendium of past errors, you’ll see plenty of examples of us looking ridiculous,” Sifton says. “One of the difficulties that the Times has in addressing contemporary culture, and certainly hip-hop culture, is that we risk looking stupid all the time.”

Since it doesn’t look like it will be abandoning honorifics any time soon, blanket uniformity might be the best bet for the Times to look less foolish, or at least more consistent. After all, if they can call Brian Warner “Mr Manson,” then surely America’s finest newsrooms can honour Calvin Broadus as Mr Dogg.

It’s been two months since the above article ran in the Columbia Journalism Review (CJR), and since it has sent otherwise conscious liberals in newsrooms across America scrambling for their political correctness handbooks: “Oh my God – have we been doing that for all these years?” When I have trouble sleeping, I just imagine them all squirming in their black-framed glasses.

Though CJR is hardly available on every stateside newsstand (I live near America’s academic capital, Cambridge, and even there I can’t find a copy), word within the media spreads quickly on such pieces; my guess is that Sam Sifton’s superior had a copy waiting on his desk the morning after it arrived at Times headquarters. Furthermore, within hours of CJR posting “Name-Dropping” on its web site in late June, dozens of blogs – from those covering hip-hop and pop music to ones concerning linguistics and media – posted the piece for discussion.

When the editors at Walkley asked me to bulk up my article for an upcoming issue, I immediately wanted to squeeze in all the junk that my CJR editors slashed in our numerous edits. But then I had the notion that maybe, just maybe, decision makers at the Times not only read my piece, but reacted accordingly.

A few hours bopping through the Times archives proves that “Name- Dropping” may have had a major effect. In a June 7 article titled ‘‘Martial Art of Chess, Promoted by a Rapper,’’ RZA is never referred to as “Robert Diggs”; and furthermore, readers even get a pronunciation key: “RIZ-a”. The same goes for a June 20 business feature on concert behemoth Live Nation, in which Jay-Z is not once called “Shawn Carter”; as well as in the recent extensive coverage of rapper Nas, who, I’m proud to say, has not received the “Nasir Jones” treatment since December last year.

As for Snoop Dogg, that has yet to be seen. But although I bet he won’t ever be Mr Dogg, chances are he’ll no longer be Calvin Broadus either. And that’s a good start – especially for the Times.

Chris Faraone is a hip-hop reporter for the Boston Phoenix.

Tom Jellett is an artist with The Australian.