Way back when putting newspaper content on the Internet was a new idea, visionaries decided that they could establish their publications as the go-to sources for all information in their communities by making it available for free.
I wonder if General Motors ever considered giving away the cars it builds -- and how much longer the company could have staved off bankruptcy by following the same shrewd strategy.
Now, with newsrooms across America continuing to shove free news onto a medium they haven't figured out how to make pay, David Simon has an intriguing, albeit risky, proposal in the current Columbia Journalism Review. He calls upon the publishers of The New York Times and The Washington Post to start charging everyone who doesn't subscribe to the print papers to read them online.
There's something about this that feels like the periodic efforts to end the reliance on anonymous sources in the nation's capital. It could work only if everyone involved agrees to do it -- which never happens.
The same is true here. If either paper balks, the other would suffer greatly. On the other hand, if both go along -- and, perhaps, are joined by other large news organizations -- they just might be able to breathe some life back into America's newsrooms.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
What to say? Who will care?
Relatively new to the world of social networking, I'm finding that there are people who have lives even less interesting than my own. I know that because they tell me -- on their blogs, on Facebook, on Twitter.
It seems not too long ago that people who didn't guard their privacy might even exaggerate their experiences to impress others. That time seems to have passed.
Now an act of personal hygiene, a mundane task, a random thought all are assumed to be of interest to the rest of the world. Take, for instance, Jeni Searcy, a "lifecaster" in Fort Worth, Texas, whose life is an open electronic book. Melody McDonald of the Star-Telegram introduced us to Searcy and others like her, including a bride who considered tweeting while walking down the aisle.
"I -- uh, what? Oh, yeah. I do!"
If I'm going to get with the program, I'm going to have to dial down what I regard as worth sharing.
It seems not too long ago that people who didn't guard their privacy might even exaggerate their experiences to impress others. That time seems to have passed.
Now an act of personal hygiene, a mundane task, a random thought all are assumed to be of interest to the rest of the world. Take, for instance, Jeni Searcy, a "lifecaster" in Fort Worth, Texas, whose life is an open electronic book. Melody McDonald of the Star-Telegram introduced us to Searcy and others like her, including a bride who considered tweeting while walking down the aisle.
"I -- uh, what? Oh, yeah. I do!"
If I'm going to get with the program, I'm going to have to dial down what I regard as worth sharing.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Failure to communicate
It’s always shocking – but it shouldn’t be – that organizations that exist to communicate with the public communicate so poorly internally. Shouldn’t be because it happens with such regularity.
The latest example is Salongate at The Washington Post, recounted by Post Ombudsman Andrew Alexander in Sunday’s issue. First exposed by Politico July 3, it involved a plan to bolster a sagging bottom line by, in essence, selling access to the newsroom.
The now-aborted scheme called for companies to pony up as much as $25,000 to have dinner at Publisher Katharine Weymouth’s home with, among others, members of the Obama Administration and newsroom representatives. The “spirited” but not “confrontational” conversation was to be off the record.
White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs said that any such invitation would be reviewed but that he thought that it “would likely exceed” what the administration would find acceptable.
The major players at the newspaper – Weymouth, granddaughter of the late Post Publisher Katharine Graham and niece of Post chief executive Donald Graham; Executive Editor Marcus Brauchli; President and General Manager Stephen Hills; Charles Pelton, who initiated the plan; and several top newsroom editors who were briefed – now acknowledge, to one degree or another, that it was flawed. The general theme, though, seems to be that they didn’t fully understand what was being proposed or thought that the alert they were receiving was preliminary and would be revised. Apparently no one objected.
Organizations that regularly expose and comment harshly on others’ shortcomings ought to understand that they live in a glass house and be more sensitive to the consequences of violating the rules by which they expect others to live.
The latest example is Salongate at The Washington Post, recounted by Post Ombudsman Andrew Alexander in Sunday’s issue. First exposed by Politico July 3, it involved a plan to bolster a sagging bottom line by, in essence, selling access to the newsroom.
The now-aborted scheme called for companies to pony up as much as $25,000 to have dinner at Publisher Katharine Weymouth’s home with, among others, members of the Obama Administration and newsroom representatives. The “spirited” but not “confrontational” conversation was to be off the record.
White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs said that any such invitation would be reviewed but that he thought that it “would likely exceed” what the administration would find acceptable.
The major players at the newspaper – Weymouth, granddaughter of the late Post Publisher Katharine Graham and niece of Post chief executive Donald Graham; Executive Editor Marcus Brauchli; President and General Manager Stephen Hills; Charles Pelton, who initiated the plan; and several top newsroom editors who were briefed – now acknowledge, to one degree or another, that it was flawed. The general theme, though, seems to be that they didn’t fully understand what was being proposed or thought that the alert they were receiving was preliminary and would be revised. Apparently no one objected.
Organizations that regularly expose and comment harshly on others’ shortcomings ought to understand that they live in a glass house and be more sensitive to the consequences of violating the rules by which they expect others to live.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Information overload
Been giving a lot of thought lately to the finite amount of time in a day and the inverse ratio of the volume of information to be consumed to the number of minutes remaining for other activities -- having a life, for instance.
I marvel at others' capacity for digesting an avalanche of messages -- news, communication, entertainment, etc. -- and still accomplishing more than I would attempt. Even adding to the volume of information for others to consume.
Something tells me that I need either a speed-reading course or a method for determining, before I read it, if something is worth the time.
Surely there is software for that.
I'm beginning to suspect that the Internet isn't as much to blame for the decline of newspaper-reading as I imagined. When information overload has been reached, it's only natural to want to shut off the flow.
I marvel at others' capacity for digesting an avalanche of messages -- news, communication, entertainment, etc. -- and still accomplishing more than I would attempt. Even adding to the volume of information for others to consume.
Something tells me that I need either a speed-reading course or a method for determining, before I read it, if something is worth the time.
Surely there is software for that.
I'm beginning to suspect that the Internet isn't as much to blame for the decline of newspaper-reading as I imagined. When information overload has been reached, it's only natural to want to shut off the flow.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Where they read the "paper"
Perusing the Nieman Journalism Lab website for a class assignment, I bumped, belatedly, into an April 13 article by Martin Langeveld in which he found that only a little more than 3 percent of the people who read newspapers do so online. It was based mostly on widely accepted Newspaper Association of America research but also a couple of assumptions by Langeveld, and it immediately became controversial.
Even if Langeveld's findings were off, as critics contended, the evidence seems to suggest that most people who read newspapers do so in print. That doesn't consider, of course, the large number of people who bypass newspapers altogether in seeking information, getting it from television, radio or from non-newspaper websites.
As newspapers struggle to maintain adequate newsgathering forces in the face of declining revenue, and difficulty in generating revenue from their online operations, they might well consider both how quickly they abandon print for the web -- and also what they need to do to make their websites more appealing.
Even if Langeveld's findings were off, as critics contended, the evidence seems to suggest that most people who read newspapers do so in print. That doesn't consider, of course, the large number of people who bypass newspapers altogether in seeking information, getting it from television, radio or from non-newspaper websites.
As newspapers struggle to maintain adequate newsgathering forces in the face of declining revenue, and difficulty in generating revenue from their online operations, they might well consider both how quickly they abandon print for the web -- and also what they need to do to make their websites more appealing.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Communicating loudly
Watching fireworks all around, I wondered how they came to mark the United States' independence from England -- and what it all means.
Wikipedia, source of all things true (after which it then is made more true), tells us that the earliest unequivocal documentation of fireworks dates back to 12th Century China, where they were used to frighten away evil spirits and also to pray for happiness and prosperity. OK, I'm beginning to see a potential connection.
It goes on to explain that fireworks and black ash were used to celebrate important events long before the Revolutionary War -- and that even George Washington's inauguration as president in 1789 was accompanied by a fireworks display.
After more than 200 years, Americans haven't come up with anything to beat fireworks as a means of expressing our happiness at being independent.
Wikipedia, source of all things true (after which it then is made more true), tells us that the earliest unequivocal documentation of fireworks dates back to 12th Century China, where they were used to frighten away evil spirits and also to pray for happiness and prosperity. OK, I'm beginning to see a potential connection.
It goes on to explain that fireworks and black ash were used to celebrate important events long before the Revolutionary War -- and that even George Washington's inauguration as president in 1789 was accompanied by a fireworks display.
After more than 200 years, Americans haven't come up with anything to beat fireworks as a means of expressing our happiness at being independent.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
New look -- but for how long?
My brother the PR executive called to ask if I'd seen the local newspaper's latest website design. It didn't please him, and he wanted to vent to me because he had suppressed his first impulse: to tweet about it. Ruffled feathers and all that.
The subject of his displeasure, though, reminded me of an evening newspaper in a city in which I once worked for the morning competition. The PM went from a nearly exclusive emphasis on local news to heavy-duty copshop reports to a series of visual redesigns. The changes, it seemed, weren't doing much to attract readers -- and advertisers.
Then came the day when another, different-looking version of the paper arrived, proclaiming itself, "The newspaper for people who watch television."
Well, people certainly were doing that, and apparently they continued to do so -- instead of reading the newspaper, the new slogan notwithstanding. Shortly thereafter, the paper went out of business.
Since then, whenever I see a newspaper, TV news program or the like start to take on a new look -- or, of greater concern, a series of new looks -- I don't think, "Oh, how clever" or "They're really staying on the cutting edge," which, I suppose, is the reaction they're seeking.
No, I more often wonder just how bad things are down there -- and how much longer the publication or program will be around.
The subject of his displeasure, though, reminded me of an evening newspaper in a city in which I once worked for the morning competition. The PM went from a nearly exclusive emphasis on local news to heavy-duty copshop reports to a series of visual redesigns. The changes, it seemed, weren't doing much to attract readers -- and advertisers.
Then came the day when another, different-looking version of the paper arrived, proclaiming itself, "The newspaper for people who watch television."
Well, people certainly were doing that, and apparently they continued to do so -- instead of reading the newspaper, the new slogan notwithstanding. Shortly thereafter, the paper went out of business.
Since then, whenever I see a newspaper, TV news program or the like start to take on a new look -- or, of greater concern, a series of new looks -- I don't think, "Oh, how clever" or "They're really staying on the cutting edge," which, I suppose, is the reaction they're seeking.
No, I more often wonder just how bad things are down there -- and how much longer the publication or program will be around.
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