A false rivalry: they may not realize it, but print and online journalists have a common cause.
Palser, Barb
There's a big misunderstanding between traditional and
new-media journalists. It's clouding our conversations about the
future of news and creating acrimony when we need solidarity.
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
It starts with the word "newspapers." When the
dignitaries of print howl about the decline of newspapers, members of
other media and younger generations yawn or chuckle at what sounds like
the irrelevant noise of shortsighted, self-interested dinosaurs. That
might be a fair assessment if the print people are mourning the
crumbling business structure built around ink and paper. And some of
them are.
However, many of them are using newspapers as shorthand for the
types of journalism the best papers represent: Serious investigative and
foreign reporting. Muckraking and watchdogging. Daily community news
that nobody else covers. When editors protest the terrible things
happening to newspapers, they're warning us that quality journalism
is in jeopardy.
They might be surprised to learn that not everyone gets the
message. To bloggers, disgruntled readers and some new-media
journalists, "newspapers" evoke less noble images: Last
night's news. Messy ink and wasted paper. Insular arrogance.
Opposition to progress. Why would we care if they go away?
Unfortunately, the print defenders usually bury themselves in the
next breath by saying something bitter about the Internet siphoning away
readers. As if online news is part of the problem. That attitude is
underscored by the resources thrown at efforts to revive print
subscriptions, while Web budgets remain achingly low.
It must be tempting to blame online publishing for some of the
changes happening in print newsrooms and set up a "print versus
Internet" rivalry. But it's a false rivalry, and it's
damaging in several ways.
First, there's no reason to believe the future of journalism
depends on newsprint, or that online news is inherently cheap and
shallow. That suggestion is a sure sign of dinosaur thinking and an
insult to the many people doing important journalism on the Web.
It's also an insult to online viewers, who are just as hungry for
the latest news from Iran as they are for updates on Tom and
Katie's baby. As we all know, news on the Internet can be important
and influential; print journalism can be fluffy and trite. Newspapers
were fighting pressures to make cheaper news long before the Internet
showed up.
Second, when the conversation focuses on newspapers, it allows
other journalists to feel unaffected, when they're not. Other media
have always depended on the reporting of newspaper journalists--and none
has relied on newspapers as much as online news has. Yet if online
journalists are paying attention to the breakup of Knight Ridder,
it's usually with detached interest or even mild satisfaction.
Because they've been made to feel like suspicious interlopers in so
many newsrooms, it's not easy for online journalists to see how
closely their interests are aligned with the state of newspapers. The
connection should be obvious, but it's not.
Finally, the language of rivalry allows print journalists to think
of the Internet as something alien and threatening. When it comes to
reaching audience, the Web is actually the best thing that could have
happened to newspaper journalism. Important reporting can have far wider
distribution and greater impact than ever before. When Hurricane Katrina struck, temporarily stopping the presses of New Orleans'
Times-Picayune, the paper's Web site became a national news source
overnight. A significant amount of traffic to NOLA.com still comes from
displaced storm victims in other states. If print newsrooms take a
hostile stance toward the Internet, they're throwing away their
best opportunity for growth.
Of course, audience growth is different from revenue growth. In
that respect, newspapers are in a very bad spot. Much of the trouble has
to do with audience behavior and high profit demands. Some of it has to
do with the Internet--but not in a way that warrants tension between
print and online journalists. The Internet poses the same economic
challenges to all of us. If we, as an industry, can't figure out
how to make enough money on news Web sites to support a fair share of
news-gathering costs--with a profit to boot--we all go down together.
Our wagons are hitched.
Those who worry about the future of newspapers might gain more
support by speaking inclusively about the types of journalism they wish
to preserve: doing Pulitzer-worthy reporting, informing the public,
challenging power, covering communities. And they should acknowledge
that online journalists--and yes, citizen journalists--might be their
best allies in preserving those principles. Sadly, newspapers have come
to represent very different things to different groups--but our ideas
about good journalism are surprisingly similar.
Would a more harmonious relationship between old and new media save
newspapers from savage budget cuts? Probably not. But it could help the
public understand what's really at stake and draw a few more allies
to the cause.
Maybe the dinosaurs have something important to say, after all.
It's about the journalism, not the paper.
Barb Palser (barb@ibsys.com) is director of content for Internet
Broadcasting Systems Inc.