Chances are you love to hate "the media" on a regular basis.

And chances are you won't admit when you like "the media," even just a little.

Perhaps your notions of the media, whatever they may be, were reinforced after last week's Sago Mine tragedy in West Virginia.

Right after the nail-biting FedEx Orange Bowl came to a finish, a TV news station in Pittsburgh announced that 12 of the 13 miners had been found alive.

The impossible, the miracle of all miracles, had occurred.

Those of us who watched the live reports saw the family and relatives cheer when they learned their loved ones had been spared.

Newspapers went to press with bannered headlines, and stories and photos that spanned across their front pages, all on the basis of incorrect or misconstrued information that had been broadcast in an open room.

And the information, we now know, had been not yet been confirmed by officials.

It seems as though everyone -- family, relatives and reporters alike -- wanted to believe that after 40 hours underground, 13 men could survive.

Not more than three hours later did reporters learn that in fact, 12 miners had died and only one had lived.

And we, the media, got it wrong.

Despite the "misinformation," it's incumbent that the media carry the heavy burden of proof, even though the pressure of competition is constant.

We report the news as we know it, but to maintain the trust of readers we have to admit when we make mistakes.

I cringed the next morning after learning that many newspapers' headlines were completely wrong; some had already printed their first editions to meet deadline, while others, like the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, had been able to stop the presses mid-run to correct later editions.

I sipped my coffee and thought to myself, "Damn it, we've done it again."

Another black mark against journalism, despite our best intentions.

The media need to be accountable for their reporting methods, but the media also exist for a reason.

Of course, much like everything else in the U.S., the free flow of information and the right to know is something we take for granted.

In the former Soviet Union the media were state-owned, with content and a news medium's existence dictated by state leadership. News was not reported as it happened, but rather days later, most likely when it received state approval. Russian journalists couldn't even report the Chernobyl nuclear disaster until days after it had occurred.

The price many individual journalists pay is high as well.

Just recently, Afghan journalist and magazine editor Ali Mohaqeq Nasab had a choice: Apologize for "radical" ideas regarding Islam, women's rights and the Afghan justice system that had been printed and go to prison, or be killed.

He apologized.

Imagine how horrible it would be if the media didn't care enough about a story to do follow-ups in light of the most recent mining disaster, ranging from Sago's repeated safety violations to the lives that have been touched and subsequently changed forever because of the tragedy.

Though the media are by no means perfect, they are necessary for a well-functioning society. People want and need to know what's going on around them -- it's simply human nature.

If you want to let Penn State community members know what's going on and why it's important, then the Collegian needs you. Bring a pen or pencil and a blue book to the James Building on Jan. 17 or Jan. 18 from 3 to 4:30 p.m. or 6 to 7:30 p.m., or Jan. 19 from 3 to 4:30 p.m.

Journalists and citizens worldwide struggle for a free press.

We don't have to.