A
few years ago I gave a speech to a conference of Canadian media
executives at which I told them that within a decade no one would pay
for 'factual' news anymore. The audience was not impressed. They were
rubbing their hands together in glee at the thought of being able to
repackage the content from their newspapers and business magazines and
news programs electronically and sell it as 'feeds' to large
corporations. These same large corporations already paid handsomely for
thousands of copies of this content in hard copy form, one for each
executive desk, so now, surely, they would pay at least as much again
for the same content in a different format. I told them they were in
for a rude surprise.
Part of my job at the time was to negotiate for my employer the
purchase of these electronic news feeds. I started out with the premise
that we shouldn't have to pay twice for the same content, and that, if
we were to largely replace
the hard copy with electronic feeds, we would actually be reducing the
publisher's costs (since bits cost less than paper and ink), so we
should actually pay less
than we were paying already. I was not a popular customer, but in the
eight years since then I've been at least partially vindicated. To the
extent companies were
able to reduce their number of hard-copy subscriptions, they now pay
less in total to each vendor than they did eight years ago (if they're
negotiating competently), and usually have a 'site licence' that allows
them to distribute the content to every desktop in the organization,
not just the executive suites. As Marshall McLuhan said, "Information
is always trying to be free".
I was also partially wrong. Many of the people in the executive suites
are slow adopters of technology, and still demand their hard copy of
the information, redundant and awkward as it is. It is true that,
especially for
commuters, reading hard copy is more convenient than reading off a
screen. But with wireless and e-paper, that won't be true much longer.
You can see the results of this struggle, too, on the Internet. Some
newspapers and magazines initially refused to put their current
editions up on the Internet unless you were a subscriber. You had to
enter a subscription key. Those with such keys posted them up
anonymously for other users and defeated this. Some tried to 'embargo'
their content for a period of time -- only subscribers would be able to
get it right away, while those who wanted it free would have to wait
until it was off the shelves, no longer 'news'. This is the same model
used by movie-makers (it's not working for them, either, thanks to
file-sharing). For newspapers, which mostly recycle and package content
from news services that is available free, immediately, elsewhere, this
pretty well guaranteed no visitors to their websites. I know of one
local newspaper that admits that much of its online traffic comes from
people looking for the obituaries -- the only content it carries that
is unique and highly valued. You can't get it anywhere else.
Some magazines, like the New
Yorker, tease you by putting
some of their content online and directing you to the hard copy for the
meatier stuff. They lessen the blow of this tease by offering some
multimedia content 'online only', for free. Some, like Harpers,
put nothing at all online (they have recently switched to the 'embargo'
system, putting archives up after the issue comes off the shelves).
Others, like Wired,
have separate 'online only' editions that run in parallel to their hard
copy editions. And others have given in and put everything up
immediately, and trust that their subscribers find enough value in the
magazine to buy the hard copy anyway, to photocopy and pass around and
tear out the best articles and graphics, or because their readers tend
to read their magazine cover-to-cover and, at least for now, hard copy
is the most convenient format for doing so.
When I made my speech one member of the audience asked what they should
do if my dire (and mostly correct) prediction came true. I told them
they had to 'add value' to the content. If it was meta-tagged (indexed
by subject matter) for easy online search that would be useful. An
ability to link back to earlier related stories would add value, and a
link to the reporter's detailed unpublished files would be even better.
But more than anything else, I told them to take the content up the
value chain that I've illustrated above. 'Just the news', the
facts and data of what happened with no slant or embellishment, as
journalists are taught to provide, is at the bottom of the chain. If
you synthesize
it, put it in context, provide the background history and the related
stories that let you see the whole picture, that's more valuable. If
you analyze
it and provide insight as to what it means (and that implies providing
more than one point of view on what it means) that's more valuable
still. And if you advise the reader what they can do (not tell them
what they should
do -- but identify what alternatives are available to them that might
make sense to do, with the decision left to the reader) as a result of
that knowledge, that's providing the most value of all.
Let's take an example. Here's an excerpt of the NBC video that we've
all seen in the past couple of days showing a US marine shooting an
allegedly unarmed, injured Iraqi in a mosque:

The picture itself is news. It's data. You can't argue with it. A
thousand sources have attempted to turn it into information by giving
us some context. Some of them
are biased, others at least attempt to be objective about what we're
seeing and how it happened (I won't get into the debate today about
whether truly unbiased reporting is possible). We learn that the mosque
depicted is in Fallujah, during a siege by the US against suspected
militia. We learn what the Americans were saying to each other as the
Iraqi was shot. We learn from the account of NBC's Kevin Sites, a
grizzled veteran of war reporting, that five wounded Iraqi fighters had
been left in the mosque after Marines had fought their way into that
part of the city on Friday and Saturday. Ten other Iraqis had been
killed in the battle for the mosque. The wounded Iraqis were left in
the mosque until a second group of Marines entered the building on
Saturday, following reports that the building may have been reoccupied.
Sites said that at this point one of the five Iraqis was dead and that
three of the others appeared to be close to death. In his report
accompanying the images, Sites said that one of the Marines noticed
that one of the wounded men was still breathing before shouting that he
was "faking it". At this point, the Marine shot the Iraqi and walked
away. We learn as well that the assault on Fallujah has been especially
harrowing for the young Marines, who are exhausted and stressed out.
Now we have a little
information, just enough context to start
to make sense of what happened. Enough, perhaps, to be dangerous.
On to insight, what
it means. Here's where the
media start to play fast and loose with us. In the first place, they
don't really think it's their place to tell us what it means. Sure,
they have newsmagazines that will attempt this. But they'll do it very
badly. They'll start by reiterating the facts and the limited context
for this one event. There will not be time for them to recount and
synthesize hundreds of similar events, and different events from the
raid, so that we can see whether there's a pattern here or just one
pair of individuals acting in the intense stress of war. In fact, we probably
won't know what the real context
is for this event for months, by which time the media will no longer be
covering it (it will no longer be 'news'). Instead, for the next week
or so they'll bring in pundits with diametrically opposed views on its
significance. They'll give each of them a couple of minutes to present
hasty and utterly inadequate interpretations of what this news item
means. One of them will quickly say that "Such images will recruit more
terrorists faster than they are being killed". Notice that it isn't the
behaviour of American troops toward Iraqis that's being discussed here,
it's the "images". The reporting
of the news has become the
news, more than the actual events! The other pundit will say that "We
will only win the hearts and minds of Fallujah by ridding the city of
insurgents. We're doing that by patrolling the streets and killing the
enemy. There's no way of knowing whether the Iraqi was really injured
or whether he had hidden arms. In the heat of battle you cannot take
chances and there is no time for second-guessing. You do what you have
to do." [Incidentally, I'm not making these quotes up -- they're what
has already been said about the incident]
And that will be the end of it. There will be no real
analysis -- there is no
time for it, not enough facts have been accumulated to permit it, and
the context provided is not nearly substantial enough for anything more
than pure speculation. There will be no prescription for action at all,
no alternatives laid out about what we as citizens of this planet
should do as a result of this, because the show is already running
over, attention spans are short, and besides there is not nearly enough
quality analysis to support any prescription for action. All we can do
is shake our heads and change the channel.
This is, in my opinion, irresponsible journalism, lazy, incompetent,
and pandering to certain viewers' love of sensationalism (the viewers
who are more mature and reasoned in what they want have mostly given up
on the mainstream media, and according to a recent poll the mainstream
media command about the same amount of trust and respect from the
majority of citizens as politicians and the IRS). The failure of the
mainstream media to legitimately cover the news -- providing proper
context, analysis and insight, and suggestions for action -- is a total
abrogation of their responsibility to inform the American people. They
say they do what they can with the data that's available. They say they
haven't the time or resources to do more. They say the people whose
eyeballs pay the bills won't watch or read anyway. But the truth is
that the media are a principal cause
of the American public's attention deficit for news. Why watch or read
something if you get no true insight of what it means, and if there's
apparently nothing you can do about it anyway? And if you really want a
sensational jolt, the special effects and picture quality of the latest
Hollywood blockbuster are much better than the grainy shots of Abu
Ghraib or the assault on Fallujah. They should be -- there's a lot more
money invested in their production. It's no wonder we're all suffering
from a feeling of learned
helplessness. As I said back in
January:
The
delusion of danger, and the illusion that something can or
has to be done, that someone -- British cows, Canadian farmers, Chinese
cats, Firestone, Saddam Hussein -- must be brought to account in order
to give us back control, is literally making us all crazy. It causes us
to believe we cannot let children out of our sight even for a moment.
It causes us to wildly change our diets, to avoid visiting whole
countries, to fingerprint whole nations of visitors, to suspend civil
liberties, to put barbed wire around our communities, to drink only
bottled water, to wear masks, to introduce five levels of increasingly
hysterical 'threat' to everyone's safety. [and, I might add now, to
re-elect the worst president in the history of the United States]
Alright, enough complaining. What should we do about it? How can we
'reinvent the news' so that it does
provide value?
Here's a good start. Take a look at this
archive from the New
Yorker. Hundreds and hundreds
of pages of first-hand accounts and analysis of the Iraq war dating
back to before it began. Data on what happened. Context to put the
events in perspective. Analysis to provide insight into what it all
means. And suggested actions on what we could do about it. This
is what we should be getting in the news. Of
course the mainstream media
will say it costs too much and that not enough people will read it or
watch it to justify that cost. It doesn't matter. The media are
licensed and given enormous public resources (spectrum allocation,
cable and satellite allocation, and access to billions of eyeballs) to
inform us. Not to titillate
us with sensational pictures and celebrity indiscretions and leave us
bewildered about what it all means and what we can do about it. They
have a responsibility
to inform us, more than ever today when our lack of knowledge allows
those with money and power to launch wars under false pretenses,
blackmail and bankrupt whole nations, and destroy our world.
In most Western countries outside the US, the governments and the
people understand this. The most important (not the most popular, the
most important)
media in those countries are publicly owned. The BBC, Deutche Wellle,
the CBC, and similar public broadcasters strive to meet this mandate.
In the US, NPR and PBS do their best, but they're horrifically
underfunded and Bush would like to eliminate public funding for them
entirely. There are many independent 'alternative' media, mostly
Internet-based, that are quite well networked, but which barely have
the resources to dig up basic facts, let alone provide investigation or
analysis. There are tons of freelancers out there, more than ready to
do whatever will put food on their table.
And then there's us, the bloggers, the 'million guys in pajamas'. We
are becoming an extension of the independent media, capable of
unearthing many more facts, at least in those areas where we live or
have deep connections. But as critics have pointed out, mostly what we
do is recycle the facts, both from the mainstream and independent
media. We get them out to a larger audience. But we don't have the
resources, the skills or the time to provide much context, analysis, or
prescriptions for action. So we, too, do what we can. When we see what
we believe is a credible spin to a news item, we pass it on, notably to
others who tend to believe the same things we do. Some of us have the
unmitigated gall to write analyses and prescriptions for action, often
based on woefully inadequate knowledge. But hey, we're trying.
So we have mainstream media with lots of money who are squandering it
on crap, and shrugging off their responsibility to inform. We have some
magazines doing great investigative reporting. We have public
broadcasters who are doing, mostly, an admirable job, with not enough
money. We have independent media with good networks but not much else.
We have freelance journalists with skills and time but who need to be
paid a modest wage for their work. And we have us bloggers, who have
vast numbers and great ideals and some modest writing skills and some
time on our hands, but no resources. Put 'em together and what do you
have? A system where the only players with the money are disinclined to
use them to inform.
So what do we do? Here's my suggestion:
- Dynamic
Libraries: We could create
large virtual libraries of news, information and analysis by linking
together in one, organized place, everything you could possibly want to
know about a particular subject. I don't like the word 'archive'
because it connotes 'old and outdated', but it's an up-to-date dynamic
archive I'm proposing. Like the New
Yorker Iraq file, but
super-sized and better indexed. The blog is not a useful mechanism for
this, because it sorts content by date and drops it off automatically
after a certain period of time. Wikis might
work. We need a mechanism for indexing and organizing all this content
in simple, powerful ways, ways that allow us to see the context
of all this stuff -- search engines aren't up to this task. We need a
way to filter all the content on a particular topic by relevance, by
value, using some kind of voting mechanism that allows all users to
rate articles, but discounts the brief frenzy of sensational news to
produce some measure of enduring
value. This is a resource that everyone, even the big media, would get
value from. Instead of having to go to a hundred sites following link
after link, you could just go there.
I'll leave it to the librarians and the technologists to design this. I
think it could be dynamite.
- A
Network of Investigative Reporters:
This would be like a giant labour exchange where anyone -- mainstream
journalists, freelancers, bloggers, anyone with time on their hands --
would be able to post our credentials, our hourly rates, our physical
locations, our areas of expertise (we all know a lot about something),
and our areas of interest. So if I want to do an objective analysis of
the story of jailed animal rights activist Tre
Arrow, for example, I could use
the exchange to find people to do the research, to interview those who
like him and hate him, to interview him in prison, at rates I can
afford (or even for free). Together we could move thousands of stories
and events up the knowledge value chain, and, in the process, perhaps
employ some people who need work to do some very satisfying work, and
develop a lot of people's critical thinking and reporting skills. And
build up some superb content in the Dynamic Libraries. And get some of
us bloggers off our asses and out into the communities where we can
really make a difference.
- A
Tax on the Private Media to Fund Investigative Reporting:
As I have stated, I think media who use our spectrum have a
responsibility to inform the public. Their shareholders, obviously,
don't agree. So what if we provide a mechanism to allow the private
media to outsource this responsibility to a public foundation? Here's
how it might work: You start with some proportion, say 5%, of the gross
revenues of a media company that has access to the public airwaves. You
deduct from that the number of man-hours that the company invests each
year in legitimate investigative reporting, times a reasonable hourly
rate (including a provision for out-of-pocket costs), say $100. The
proviso would be that the results of all qualifying investigative
reporting would have to be posted to the Dynamic Libraries. The media
would be able to make their own economic decision whether or not to
actually broadcast the results, but at least it would be captured in a
public archive, where, I suspect, it would provide more value than a
one-time news broadcast would. Any deficiency would be paid as a tax to
a public, National Foundation for Investigative Reporting, with a
mandate to spend the receipts, using members of the Network of
Investigative Reporters, to conduct investigations on subjects selected
by an independent advisory board. The board would be elected by the
members of the Network of Investigative Reporters itself, i.e. by all
of us who care about being informed.
OK, that's all I have right now. I'm still thinking the concept
through. I confess it's a bit idealistic. I'm trying to be pragmatic,
allowing networks who just want to entertain to pay others to take on
their responsibility to inform. I'm trying to find a way to
mobilize the incredible intelligence, energy and knowledge of a million
bloggers and millions of others who care about the news and about being
informed and who are currently sitting on the sidelines rehashing
information when they could be producing and adding value to it. What
would it take to make it really work? Pessimists who think it could
never work, please keep your thoughts to yourself, at least until
others have weighed in.
Oh, and bloggers offended by my description of us as 'a million guys in
pajamas', please understand that the best way to destroy a false myth
is to ridicule it from the inside. For investigative reporting
fieldwork, what you're wearing will work just fine.
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