Entries Tagged as 'Media'

Whale falls

Most news organizations have been slowly shrinking both their budgets and staffs in the face of a vanishing market. Both insiders and outsiders are divining what went wrong and how to adapt to a new world of publishing. There are at least as many different opinions and strategies as there are keyboards. Even in a world composed of ceaseless chatter, journalists are a verbose and opinionated group.

It’s not that anyone’s appetite for news has diminished. It’s just that they didn’t want what traditional media was serving, or maybe how it was being served. It’s easy to focus on the particular details — the foolishness of considering a daily newspaper a breaking news medium decades after television stole that away, the rank arrogance of newspapers after the disappearance of true competition, or the excessive focus on packaging, at the expense of the product. These are just some of the complaints advanced as reasons for the decline, but whether they’re true in whole or part, they don’t explain much. The truth is far more complicated, and has more to do with the new rhythm and pace of the average person’s life than it does with journalists. I’ve mentioned context in another post, and there’s no need to elaborate on it here.

It’s more interesting to visualize the future of news, especially in light of the latest announcement by the Detroit Media Partnership. Many people in the industry have been wondering which major metropolitan daily would first switch to online-only publication. The well-respected (but rarely read) Christian Science Monitor recently made the news when it announced it would stop printing and publish only on the Internet, but they’re a different kind of publication from the daily metropolitan newspaper. It seems that the Detroit JOA is showing that, instead of a radical break with the past, we might see a more gradual move away from print dominance to a more complicated distribution system. They’re still going to print a daily newspaper, but they just won’t deliver it to homes for most of the week.

On its face, it seems a fairly bold step, at least for newspapers — they focus their print efforts on the days where they get most of their print revenue (82 percent is the number I’ve seen). But when you break the daily newspaper habit for home readers, you stand a very good chance of breaking their print habit entirely. After all, once you get used to reading it online for four days out of the week, why not give up the print subscription? In any event, it’s a great move for everyone else, because the results will be extremely illuminating. It’s not a trend yet, but eventually most newspapers will face similar choices. Not all of them, as John Duncan points out in an excellent post.

John has always been good at pointing out the obvious fact that for-profit media organizations are businesses, and should be run as such. It’s a refreshing viewpoint and moves away from the overall hand-wringing mentality that dominates media industry discussions, conducted mostly by folks who yearn for simpler times that they understood. But really the discussion should not be about what New Media is or isn’t, or what the future of Journalism is or isn’t. It should be focused on the simple questions, like “What do our customers really want and how much are they willing to pay?” Or given that newspapers have at least a decade of experience with the Internet, “Are our online operations still worth it for our particular newspaper?” Other newspapers might ask, “Should we lay off 90 percent of our staff and publish only on the web?”

For some newspapers, the right online presence is just a self-serve interface to their customer account, or even just a brochure listing contact information. For others, maybe the right print presence is no presence at all. These basic questions don’t seem to get discussed much by the right people. I do see a lot of newspapers pouring time and money into their online presence with only the conviction that it’s the future for their business. I’m not so sure they’ve really thought about what that particular future looks like.  The only thing I know is that it doesn’t look like their past, with its increasing revenues and comparatively high margins. It looks lean and small, even in good years. For most newspapers, it may be the only future. But it shouldn’t come as a shock.

Privately, I’ve mentioned to friends that the collapse of newspapers may not be such a bad thing in the long run. I’ve compared it to whale falls: When a whale dies and its corpse falls to the ocean floor, its nutrients can support a host of organisms. In a similar way, when a large media organization disappears, it gives smaller, nimbler enterprises room to breathe, in the form of advertising dollars and readers. Alternatively, most newspapers may not close up shop, but just fade and compete with other small news startups, or even passionate amateurs.

One of the reasons I quit the business is that even though I could see what was broken and doesn’t work, I didn’t have a clear idea as to what it would take to fix it. Gannett certainly had a plan, and I was happy to help implement it until it became obvious that it wasn’t going to work either. Kevin Kelly’s recent manifesto “Better Than Free,” clarified things, in the sense that it frames the problem in a clearer way. I’ve been thinking, off and on, about the points Kelly raises, and how they would relate to a news organization. I think this long and rambling post is part of that process. I can see a local news organization (or more) thriving, not just surviving in the future. I don’t see all the details yet, but I see enough that makes me happy.

Context

Contrary to what a very loud proportion of our readers say, we’re actually fairly sophisticated over here in the newsroom information center. Once we kicked the five-drink-minimum policy (and that was just before breakfast, mind you) we had decades of clear thinking to create what we are — a hard-charging yet reflective organization obsessed with metrics.

It’s just that sometimes they’re the wrong ones. Or we don’t measure the ones we really need. Lemme ‘splain.

We’ve had a lot of practice lately with audience metrics and narratives. We work hard at knowing who they are, what they do, and what they’re looking for in their media mix. We do that geographically, demographically, and — using the following word is guaranteed to make you sound like a raving lunatic, moron or both — psychographically. Then we try to match the content up to what we think the audience wants. So if you wonder why we run home-made pasta recipes for food-allergy sufferers, you can bet there’s a valued (and valuable) audience somewhere for that sort of thing, and advertisers who want to peddle their wares to them.

There’s something missing in this equation, though, and it’s a remnant of the days when all we did was print newspapers. It’s not just your interests that lead you to a newspaper, magazine, meeting, TV show, blog, chat room, podcast, DVD, book, MMO, video game, or some variant of dancing bear. It’s also the context in which you have time to take part in a conversation about those interests. I’ll use conversation even though your participation may be fairly passive (TV) or extremely active (internet, face-to-face meeting). It’s a weaselly and vague word, but it’s useful in that it takes us back to the original context: Sitting around the fire, belly full, pleasantly tired. And I’m tired of the word “media” — we use it so often and in so many different ways that it doesn’t serve much of a purpose outside of a particular subculture.

OK, fine, so what is context? Let me spit out some examples, starting with the endangered one I’m sad to see go: You sitting at the breakfast table, reading text. There are many reasons this context is disappearing. The morning TV shows are easier to watch or listen to while you’re preparing breakfast, everyone has a car, and we’re all moving further away from our workplace. That private commute time eats into our reading time in a way that public transportation doesn’t — you can read a newspaper while you’re riding on a bus, but not while you’re driving.

Speaking of driving, there’s another one. Even here in Reno your commute time is going to be about 15 minutes one way, which means you have 30 minutes of daily tedium to kill. That time can get filled with talk radio, music, books on tape, or phone conversations. Someday most vehicles will have internet access and download audio content seamlessly, but in the meantime even a podcast works for a growing minority of people with all the cables plugged into the right place.

Then you get to work, and you sit down at your workstation with free internet access provided by your employer. Now you and I are on the same side. My goal is to get you to come to my news site, and your goal is to take a break from work. You have the time and the opportunity to just sit in front of a computer most of the day, and that’s why news sites are busiest during weekday business hours. In your free time, you’d rather run errands, spend time with family or friends, or do any of a zillion other things.

It’s this complicated nexus of a person at a particular time and a particular place that really matters to an organization that specializes in conversations, or to a solo operator (read: blogger or freelancer). We get so hung up on the MEDIUM and the potential for storytelling with the MEDIUM and the unique constraints of the MEDIUM and what the MEDIUM really means that we just jump straight into our own navel while the person on the other end of the conversation says, “Fuck it” and finds someone more interesting. If all you do is write a blog, you’re ditching a vast segment of the population who might find you extremely interesting. If all you do is put video into a custom player and don’t make it easy for the alpha geeks to download it to their iPhone, you’re going to be playing catch-up when everyone watches TV on their cell phone while they’re waiting for someone. Because the context for video may not — and probably isn’t, if our numbers are right — be your workplace. I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to do is make it known that I’m wasting time at work.

“Multi-media” is not some giant conceptual train wreck created in Flash (can’t spell “shit-flavored” without it) with completely reinvented navigation, lots of black backgrounds and silly noises whenever you move the mouse. It’s all about your ability to carry on a conversation with lots of different people, at different times, in different places, and on many levels. It’s about meeting them where and when they are, and respecting their context — not yours.