Everywhere I turn these days, friends and colleagues in the journalism trade are losing their jobs. With an economy in free fall—and all portents suggesting even worse times are on the horizon—losing a job is not a new story for most Americans. Like cancer, alcoholism and Republicanism, job loss has left few families untouched.
However, journalism seems a particularly volatile profession these days. And nowhere is it more volatile than in print journalism.
Last week, some Hartford Advocate staffers were let go due to belt tightening. This follows on the heels of the New Haven Register "retiring" its State Capitol reporter, who had 28 years of experience. The Hartford Courant, parent company of the Hartford Advocate, just endured painful budget trimming during which the newsroom staff was reduced by 25 percent in two years. The daily newspaper where I work part-time as a copy editor just eliminated two of its four regional editions, shutting down two bureaus and sending reporters and editors packing. Even the venerable New York Times has been hit hard; the Gray Lady's stock has declined by 54 percent since 2004.
It's tough out here for us ink-stained wretches, no question. For the gruesome details, check out Eric Alterman's article in the March 31 issue of The New Yorker ("Out of Print: The death and life of the American newspaper"). Though painful to read, it is instructive. The lesson I took from it was this: Journalism, in general, has buried its head in the sands of lifestyle, entertainment, scandal and propaganda for the past decade or so, and there's always a price to be paid when any profession strays from its mission and from the truth.
A recent example from Daily Kos, one of the blogs blamed for journalism's demise: two of the most important stories of the moment were that a Justice Department memo by John Yoo "revealed that the Bush administration declared the Fourth Amendment of the Bill of Rights to be inapplicable to 'domestic military operations' within the U.S." (essentially, violating the Constitution) and "The U.S. Attorney General appears to have fabricated a key event leading to the 9/11 attacks and made patently false statements" as a result. What, then, were the priorities of our "free press" over the past 30 days? A Nexus search found that "Yoo and torture" net 102 hits, "Mukasy and 9/11" got 73 hits, but "Obama and bowling" net 1,043 hits and the oldie but goodie "Clinton and Lewinsky" had 1,079 hits (this in 2008!).
The convenient explanation for the precipitous plunge in print journalism has been the Internet. And, of course, it is true that the Internet has had a profound impact on our trade. However, its impacts have been profound on all aspects of American culture, and some are only just now being understood, much less addressed. For all its plusses, the Internet has also helped foster a mentality that, in the long run, could be harmful to all professions, not just journalism. That is, there is a pervasive mentality that everything that falls under the heading of "intellectual content" is, or should be, free. If access to anything you want to know, hear or view is free, 24/7, why pay for something when it's given away at no cost? Consequently, you get what you pay for. Nothing for nothing.
When the Internet broke big in the 1990s, many journalism executives ignored the peril, dismissed it as a fad or mocked the very bloggers who were putting them out of business. Others embraced the Internet, grudgingly and half-heartedly in most cases, by setting up Web sites that essentially offered their reporters' work for free to anyone with a mouse and a modem. While they bled revenues from the print versions of their papers, they hoped to tread water long enough to figure out a way to make money on the Internet.
That still has not happened.
Stay tuned.
Please.
