Do web editors dream of electric eyeballs?
New philosophy is needed for the newspaper industry to survive
I FEAR FOR newspapers, and I fear for us all.
The calibre of modern media discourse on the Internet—and more importantly the trivialization of online news-making itself—has created a distorted funnel of information which discourages critical thought on important issues by readers and journalists alike.
Newspapers, from your average tabloid to the most respected broadsheet (and occasionally our own student newspapers), have been swept up in a mystifying news paradigm—brought on by the internet and advertising pressure—that eliminates the importance of the role that these journals are meant to serve.
First, allow me to address the problem. In previous decades, the motto of the news-making industry may have been “May the best news win,” but in the age of the Internet, there is no such thing as “best”—only “most” and “fastest.” The most and fastest news leads to the greatest online-advertising revenue on a newspaper’s website.
Coverage of news events, sports, arts and culture, and, of course, celebrities, is now based on a hair-trigger philosophy. Celebrity eulogies are written well in advance of the pitiable person’s final heartbeat and sports stars are attacked for the most mundane of incidents or comments.
Newspapers have been fighting a losing battle in the past decade, attempting to attract more eyeballs than the rest of the Internet. For instance, the Ottawa Citizen website (ottawacitizen.com) has added video reports, photo slide shows, podcasts, and blogs in order to keep up with the pace of the rest of the Web. The ongoing reports of shrinking revenue, bankruptcy, and ever-changing ownership from across the industry demonstrate that newspapers in their current form cannot maintain the pace.
How else can we explain the success of the algorithm-edited Google News? With nary a sentient brain in sight, this glorified list of headlines attracts more eyeballs each day than your average local newspaper’s web editor could imagine.
Google News constantly whispers in the internet-attuned ears of its readers with a stream of updates: “Look over here—another report from the Apple press conference; Is Brangelina done for? New photos of the couple leaving their home; Ottawa budget update—O’Brien slams OC Transpo chief; Alfredsson ‘95 per cent’ ready to return to Sens lineup.”
While struggling to keep pace with the Internet and fighting for revenue against blogs and other low-cost digital media, legitimate news outlets—the ones who are integral parts of our community, our democratic institutions, and our everyday life—have given into the news junkie’s need for hourly updates on trivial items.
Rather than differentiating itself from the rest of the Internet, the news industry has adopted strategies, as well as the journalistic values, of its more agile competition—and both the newspaper industry and its readers are suffering because of it.
Important news items, such as international happenings and political dialogue, are pushed aside in favour of the ever-changing flavour of the hour. Trusted news outlets are driving their readers to distraction with minor updates on unimportant stories and dedicating staff to posting up-to-the-minute content, rather than giving journalists the time and mental breathing room to digest and analyze the real story.
Just as the anger and excitement over the prorogation protests have drifted away from our nation’s interest (descriptions abound, but insight is lacking), so too will the recent devastation in Haiti. I believe these stories deserve a few more days on the front page.
Years ago, a wise professor told me, “Newspapers don’t tell us what to think, but they do tell us what to think about.” And now I fear that they tell us to think about too many things too quickly.
So let me propose an alternative to what has sadly become the status-quo: I want to see a newspaper that doesn’t battle for online ad revenue; one that does not give away its content online, in words, blogs, or podcasts; a newspaper without a website at all. How about that?
Dear writers, editors, and photographers: bring me only the best and most important. Every day, deliver to my doorstep a whole day’s worth of work. Sell me your ability to pick the imperative from the negligible, and I may come to trust your judgment.
Give your columnists and analysts the front page. Let the bloggers pick over the hourly scraps with their limited collection of intellectual instruments and allow your bright minds to compose the big picture from a week’s worth of ammunition.
To me, that sounds like writers and editors hard at work. That sounds like something worth reading everyday. That sounds like something that advertisers will invest in once again. That’s a real newspaper.
