One of the pieces of information that has been drilled into our heads over the course of the last few weeks (and indeed, if we've had our eyes open, for the last year or so) has been the fact that journalism is in a bit of a pickle. There has been hand-wringing, wingeing, and generally much ado about the demise of the printed word, specifically that which appears on newsprint.
Whither newspapers? Nobody knows and everyone is up in arms. One professor asked us last week why we're bothering with an industry that is shrinking at such a record pace. Another stated that so-called journalists are nothing more than the lapdogs of corporate conglomerates. All have driven home the point that traditional journalism is--oh the horrors!--in shambles.
Now I'm not going to argue that the industry isn't at a turning point. Nor am I going to argue that the changes that will occur are going to be easy. But I do believe that there is a predominantly conservative (small-, not big-C) attitude toward Our Irreparably Damaged Industry that clouds the judgment of otherwise rational individuals.
I am consistently shocked at the aversion and--sometimes--downright repulsion to change voiced by my colleagues. In a class discussion last week a classmate had a great moan about being thrown willy-nilly into any number of start-up projects the newspapers are thinking up in order to save their skins. How awful! To think that someone could be sent as a lamb to the slaughter, shipped off cruelly to the vanguard of experimental frontlines of This Great Battle!
Those frontlines are what's making headlines these days. Since we're in the business of headlines, I would imagine, then, that the frontlines are where we ought to be. Closing eyes and hoping that traditional reporting will prevail at the end of the day is not only lazy and cowardly but it is also a great recipe for unemployment.
Perhaps the days of the breakfast broadsheets are gone. Perhaps gone, too, are the days of gathering 'round the fire on a lazy Saturday with a thick stack of flimsy paper, ink-stained hands and a big mug of tea. But dwelling on those bygone idylls is not a particularly competitive attitude with which to greet the day, or indeed a burgeoning career.
Greeting change whole-heartedly and with a vicious appetite is, I suspect, the sure-fire way to succeed in These Dark Days (*thunderclap) of Print. The failure to embrace changes in journalism is akin to cutting off one's fingers, scooping out one's eyes, and vowing never to speak again.
Whither newspapers? Nobody knows and everyone is up in arms. One professor asked us last week why we're bothering with an industry that is shrinking at such a record pace. Another stated that so-called journalists are nothing more than the lapdogs of corporate conglomerates. All have driven home the point that traditional journalism is--oh the horrors!--in shambles.
Now I'm not going to argue that the industry isn't at a turning point. Nor am I going to argue that the changes that will occur are going to be easy. But I do believe that there is a predominantly conservative (small-, not big-C) attitude toward Our Irreparably Damaged Industry that clouds the judgment of otherwise rational individuals.
I am consistently shocked at the aversion and--sometimes--downright repulsion to change voiced by my colleagues. In a class discussion last week a classmate had a great moan about being thrown willy-nilly into any number of start-up projects the newspapers are thinking up in order to save their skins. How awful! To think that someone could be sent as a lamb to the slaughter, shipped off cruelly to the vanguard of experimental frontlines of This Great Battle!
Those frontlines are what's making headlines these days. Since we're in the business of headlines, I would imagine, then, that the frontlines are where we ought to be. Closing eyes and hoping that traditional reporting will prevail at the end of the day is not only lazy and cowardly but it is also a great recipe for unemployment.
Perhaps the days of the breakfast broadsheets are gone. Perhaps gone, too, are the days of gathering 'round the fire on a lazy Saturday with a thick stack of flimsy paper, ink-stained hands and a big mug of tea. But dwelling on those bygone idylls is not a particularly competitive attitude with which to greet the day, or indeed a burgeoning career.
Greeting change whole-heartedly and with a vicious appetite is, I suspect, the sure-fire way to succeed in These Dark Days (*thunderclap) of Print. The failure to embrace changes in journalism is akin to cutting off one's fingers, scooping out one's eyes, and vowing never to speak again.
Should I ever lose the Globe and Mail at my breakfast table, I will mourn.
ReplyDeleteNot only is the Globe great for independent reporting, but the almost universally stupid columns by Margaret Wente provide a good cause for a bit of anger to get on with the rest of the day.