The Lebedev affair gets more and more fascinating. (For example: another of his journalists was shot in Moscow today, though it looks like she got caught in the crossfire of a gangland hit — so this event probably says something about Moscow but nothing about Lebedev).
The Lebedev affair has had loads of coverage over the weekend. But I do not think anyone has looked at it hard enough from the Murdochian point of view.
Rupert Murdoch believes that only two profitable national newspaper companies will be left standing in the UK in ten years time - his own News International and Associated Newspapers. Other papers will still exist, such as The Guardian, but — as ever — they will not be profitable.
He is determined that his company will be the biggest and is constantly waging war, either trench war or outright war, on Associated.
Thus: The Times has steadily eaten into the profits of The Mail; The Sunday Times does battle with The Mail on Sunday; The Sun and the News of the World are virtually unchallenged.
The two thorns in his flesh are Metro which leeches advertising revenue from The Times and London Lite which blocks any potential profitability for The London Paper.
The biggest single key to Metro’s success is its exclusive contract with the London Underground which is up for renewal this year. Murdoch needs either to win this off Metro or push the price up so high that Metro becomes unprofitable. His best option is to make The London Paper a 24 hour operation and attempt to put a free morning edition on the tube.
However for The London Paper to be truly profitable there must be no London Lite.
The key to London Lite’s ability to survive has been The Standard. With the Standard newsroom in full flow it was not hard to produce London Lite very cheaply.
So he spotted the chink in Associated’s armour. With losses at £18m a year the Standard might be prised away. With his son in law Matthew Freud helping to direct the Lebedev campaign, one assumes Murdoch would have known about the plan to buy The Standard. But it would be absolutely vital for him to stay absolutely out of the picture otherwise it would never get sold.
Once time has gone by and the contractual restraints that Lebedev will probably have to sign have expired, one might imagine the Lebedev/Freud Standard would move closer to the Murdoch camp, at any rate enough to stop assisting London Lite.
London Lite then becomes another drain on the Associated resources. It has to be closed down. If Murdoch can force Metro into making losses - another victory.
The Murdoch family then owns the Sun, News of the World, Times, Sunday Times and The London Paper (which by then is profitable and gives away one million copies a day - including a morning edition on the tube).
The Rothermere family owns the Mail, Mail on Sunday and possibly a struggling Metro (or possibly not).
Several thoughtful and influential people in the local newspaper business are thinking about the following model. It has great potential.
Establish a voluntary correspondent in every postcode/village that you want to serve. Give then a business card and agree to pay them a small retainer.
Set them up with a blog to which they must post daily, strictly only local and relevant news and views, text, audio and video (no thoughts about Middle East policy). Geotag and subject tag it all.
Create one single national website for local news.
Let it be completely personalised by the user (many of us have more than one village or locality we would like to keep up with) and as algorithmically intelligent as, say, Amazon
Give each voluntary correspondent a good quality A4 colour printer. Pay for the paper and ink.
Have small teams of editors in regional HQs who know a bit about their area
Produce branded, weekly, free, double sided, single sheet A4 weekly mini-newspapers (like the old FT Digest) for each postcode area
Distribute door to door via Royal Mail (if affordable) or volunteers if no.
In print, advertising would be both hyperlocal and national — i.e. networks of demographically targeted postcodes.
On the web, advertising would be 100% user targeted.
Anyone could do this. I do not see necessarily that it will be one of the major established players that does it first.
What a coup! When you remember the fuss that the Rothermere papers made about the sale of The Daily Express to Richard Desmond it is a trifle surprising that the family would sell a once-loved family heirloom to you, an ex-KGB agent about whom we in this country know very little, despite the excellent public relations campaign.
It does strongly signal that the love of newspapers has died at Associated. Running papers takes endless flair, courage, risk, originality and a passionate belief in the medium. Once the belief has gone you may as well take the money and run.
Which leaves the field to you.
Unlike many I do not believe you have bought a turkey. The Standard is a great paper. Its recognition in London is huge. London is probably the world’s greatest city. Whatever its current losses, you can make a success of it and create a profitable and valuable title again in time.
Once you have appointed Geordie Greig as editor, here are some ideas:
Keep it upmarket - even more upmarket than it currently is. The business columnists are brilliant but why not ask the FT to provide your afternoon news. They’d jump at it. And then you have the City wrapped up.
Target Time Out which has lost its point, is ridiculously expensive and dull and still makes money with its London edition. Recruit young Londoners as volunteers to help you do this.
Produce Standard-branded two-page hyperlocal weekly news sheets distributed door to door in London’s outer districts written by citizen correspondents filing to local websites.
Let users personalise everything on your main website - now relatively cheap and easy to do
Launch a social network for Londoners
Get the circulation back up to 500,000 so that you are competing for advertising with all the quality morning papers in London.
Do this by going free - but very carefully, so that the paper is reaching ABC1 readers and keeping up its advertising profile. There are intelligent ways of doing this…almost like a controlled circulation model.
What’s all this? A naked pitch for you to retain Shakeup Media?
Of course. But also a disinterested desire to see a title that I used to work on and love dearly, thrive and prosper and prove to all the doubters that London can easily support a quality paper of its own.
Two zesty pieces of writing about media this week from America - both buzzing with flashy, larky intelligence that makes English journalism feel too much like mashed potato.First an elegant contribution to the “print is dead” discussion in the New York Times Magazine. It is by Virginia Heffernan, 39-year-old former “young-editor-to-watch” (Columbia Journalism Review), fact-checker at the New Yorker, editor at Slate, Harper’s,Talk and now, I think, online video critic for the New York TimesMagazine.
Second a sizzling attack on the “feckless zombies” who run Big Media, posted on The Daily Beast by its editor and founder Tina Brown, former editor of Talk, The New Yorker, Vanity Fair and Tatler.
What Ms Heffernan says is that traditional media types are great at self-delusion. First they pretend that content is king and that others will take care of the delivery. When that doesn’t work they pretend that traditional (”classic”) forms will survive thanks to digital extensions (i.e. the video game will support the Bond movie). When that doesn’t work (why not just have the video game and not the movie?) they overwhelmingly fail to realise that the stuff everyone is reading on Twitter and so forth is radically different from the stuff they are producing for Random House or Vogue or CNN. She says the DNA of the way a magazine feature is written is deeply and irreversibly connected to the fact that it is for a magazine. It is nothing like the way you would write a piece for The Huffington Post. So traditional media people must either a) focus on what they do best and defend their dwindling audiences and die or b) loosen up! and develop some mental flexibility in order to make the best of the brave new world.
What Ms Brown says is that we are back in eighteenth century London where the old patrons of the arts were withdrawing from the scene and the middle classes had not yet started buying books and newspapers and buying theatre tickets in sufficient quantities to provide a living for those being dumped by their patrons. She’s happy enough because of course those middle classes came good. Very good. And she sees the same happening on the web sometime soon. Meanwhile her vitriol is directed at the drones who oversee and torment the people in media companies (like some that I encountered at IFRA I suppose). “There are floors of these creatures in any behemoth media company, buzzing about each day thwarting new ideas or, worse, having “transformative” ideas of their own when what is usually required is to revive, with a bit of steadfast conviction, the originating creative purpose of the enterprise”.
My advice is to take both these thoughts very seriously as we march towards the end of 2008, the last of twenty years when journalists have known relative plenty, settled lives and predictable careers. Mental flexibility, yes. And getting back to the original creative purpose of the enterprise, yes.
But in one important way both Brown and Heffernan are very probably wrong: they both seem to think that the future is exclusively on the web. This is now such a widespread prediction it is like the belief that Canute thought he was more powerful than the sea or that the Earl of Sandwich invented the sandwich i.e. it is easier to agree than disagree.
However it is far more likely that the web will leap forward in more pervasive and exciting ways than we can currently perceive and that the same will be true of old media such as movies, radio, magazines and newspapers. There will be huge shifts between them of course. There may be more people using the internet and fewer people reading newspapers. But it is madly improbable that the older genres will be wiped out by the new.
Why?
The idea that a new technology abolishes a previous role is much too simplistic. In the history of culture it has never happened that something has simply killed something else. Something has profoundly changed something else. The Pharaoh told Hermes that his new invention, writing, would kill off memory. In fact writing gave people more to remember. Frollo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame says that the alphabet will kill images, the printing press will kill the cathedral (ceci tuera cela), but both the cathedral and the image have flourished mightily since Gutenberg. The photograph was meant to kill painting but Daguerre made Impressionism possible. After the invention of Daguerre, painters no longer felt obliged to serve as mere craftsmen charged with reproducing reality. Nor did photography only encourage abstract painting. There is a whole tradition in modern painting that could not exist without the photographic model (e.g. Hopper).
Precisely because the DNA of the web is profoundly different from the DNA of print or film or radio it will not replace those things. If it were the same (cassette tape/CD for instance) one might predict a swap. But it is becoming clear that it is not the same at all. Indeed as the web develops it is getting more distinctly and uniquely itself.
There is so much more to do with print. (Movable type has only been around since 1439!) Take newspapers. They have not fundamentally changed for over fifty years. They have gently evolved in every way, especially design and printing but have never been subject to a truly radical reinvention. Thanks to the web this will now happen and newspapers will be better. Just one example: no need any longer for long pages of share prices and TV listings, or of classified ads and news roundups. Newspapers can concentrate on the great yawning appetite of our age - the quest for meaning.
Between Heffernan’s sclerotic journalists and Brown’s zombie managers we are not getting things right. We can only dimly see the outlines of the way the web will work and it will not be the way we think. And, scared, we have turned our backs on print without seeing the potential that remains.
It will all come right in the end but we are taking the long way round.
Parting thought from a T shirt company: These T-shirts are made on the shamble and by imperfect people. Expect smudges.
In the gloom before the storm it is tempting to be nothing but depressed. There are many reasons to be sad or sorry. Each friend who receives a call for an appointment with the HR director is another reason. But there are also reasons to be cheerful. Here are five mutually reinforcing points, unscientifically presented.
One
Why we should be cheerful: There’s a growing public demand for serious journalism.
What’s happening: There are signs, real signs, that people are getting more demandingly curious about the world. More people want to understand; fewer people want to be titillated. We need meaning, not just information. This might be because when things go wrong, you look for wisdom. But it might also be a reaction against the past 20 years during which we fell in love with the technologies that undid our capacities to think. In the West we became a trivial culture, preoccupied with the feelies, the orgy porgy and the centrifugal bumble-puppy. Many people became addicted to being constantly amused; and if they were not, they sulked.
Evidence? Intellectually, not only the uncanny truth of some of Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World but also some of Neil Postman’s 1985 book Amusing Ourselves to Death. The essay Overload in the November 2008 issue of the Columbia Review of Journalism. Empirically, the success of The Economist, The Week, The Spectator and Alain de Botton’s School of Life. Also, the galloping sales of non-fiction books that in some way or other “explain the world”.
.
Two
Why we should be cheerful: In the next three years media owners will start to support “good” journalism. They’ll have to.
What’s happening: Media owners are at different stages but they are all going to have to take the following four steps 1) Stare mortality in the face. This is happening everywhere from Wasilla to Lugansk and from Porsanger to Brownsville. 2) Realise the future’s with the web - whatever platform you use now 3) Work out that the only journalism that will flourish on the web will be networked 4) Discover that networked journalism has to be better journalism because a post-modern, post-industrial, multi-faith, neoEnlightenment world demands it. Journalism that remains even a little bit out of touch, cumbersome, prejudiced or inaccurate won’t survive and a business that can’t take these four steps is heading for the turn-off to Valhalla.
Evidence? Intellectually, Charlie Beckett’s book SuperMedia which is the text for networked journalism. The more you peruse it, the more it emerges as a very good book indeed. Empirically, which would you put your money on: Huffington Post or the LA Times?
Three
Why we should be cheerful: It’s an open field. Anyone can be the next Joseph Pulitzer.
What’s happening: In the next few years being a big media company is going to be beyond grim. Costs are going up. The most important source of revenue, advertising, is going down - probably by 25%. The only way to survive is cuts. Shrinking not only hurts, it disfigures. Shrunk businesses are tomorrow’s dead businesses. Meanwhile: the media business models that work are a) cheap to start and b) baffling to mainstream media. If you have been working in TV or newspapers for 20 years and got to the top, you have not had time to pay attention to the new media ecology. It is a great time to be young, to be daring, to be unafraid of failure.
Evidence: A site such as Glam - already huge and based on (relatively) little funding.
Four
Why we should be cheerful: Attractive populism is a real possibility
What’s happening: Populism is good for journalism. It connects journalism to large audiences. It is good for society; it keeps powerful people honest. It balances the pervasive curse of elitism. What interests the public is, in the end, in the public interest. We must learn to love our Daily Mails. But, historically, populism has been so damned ugly, mean, spiteful and nasty. Now, however, there’s a sign that a new populism might catch fire in the West that’s highly attractive: the populism of hope, of reason, of tolerance and of confidence in human ingenuity. Behind this lies a massive cultural shift to a post-materialist sensibility in which values replace stuff and happiness is only tenuously linked to wealth. Did anyone else notice Michael Wolff of Vanity Fair writing this month: “The media business is about the glory of stuff-stuff to buy, stuff to envy, stuff to dream about. But for the first time in modern media memory, stuff is now the enemy. The consumer is in retreat from consumerism.”? What a manifesto for a new Beaverbrook.
Evidence: Barack Obama
Five
Why we should be cheerful: Print has a great future.
What’s happening: It’s just a matter of getting it right. This doesn’t contradict the four steps mentioned above. When I say the future’s with the web and journalism will be networked, I don’t preclude that journalism being published in print. The best newspapers of the next 10 years will create powerful online networks and use them to help create the words and pictures that they put into print. Print is not just a technology to be replaced by a newer one. Print is a genre with a soul of its own. But to survive, it must change. There’s no future for 126 page papers filled with a mix of heavy, light, UK, foreign, business, arts and sporting news. Papers will have to focus ruthlessly on what they do best and leave the rest to others. What they do best is to edit. (Some use the word “curate”). It boils down to this: taking a huge heap of confusing stories and reducing them to a package with meaning. Distilling, synthesising, explaining, designing - that is what papers must focus on. They will have to do it with fewer pages and far smaller staffs. But when they do it right they will usher in another golden age of print. Of course printing machinery may evolve to the point where we have digital paper or e-paper. In my view that still counts as print.
Evidence: “Unlike the doom-and-gloomers, I believe that newspapers will reach new heights,” - Rupert Murdoch last week.
The Editor of the Daily Mail Paul Dacre does not need defending. He will never a) read this article or b) give two hoots about what it says. Nonetheless, this is a defence of Paul Dacre.
There is a personal reason for writing it, which is that I spent three enjoyable years working closely with Dacre at the Daily Mail when he was new to the editor’s chair. It was the time when he was remoulding the paper to his own image after the long rule of David English, and I suppose I had something to do with the shape of the paper which emerged and which has continued successfully to this day. So I am in part defending myself.
There is however a more important reason. In the circles where I live and work - typically middle class, non-ideological but educated - the Daily Mail needs a voice. Almost to a man and woman, these people identify the Mail with disastrous and deluded demagoguery. So powerful is the latent antipathy that any position the Mail takes is automatically rejected out of hand.
And yet the speech that Paul Dacre made at the Society of Editors last Sunday (Nov 9th 2008) will, I believe, come to be seen as a landmark in the contemporary discussion about journalism - containing the lineaments of a path to recovery for an industry that desperately needs re-invigorating and, without which, Britain would be massively worse off. Philosophically it belongs to a tradition of emotional populism that has had many champions in the West, from Wesley to Dickens to Philip Roth and the fiercely intellectual contemporary American scholar Martha Nussbaum. It is nothing to be ashamed of and still less to be sneered at.
The reaction to Dacre’s talk has been evidence of a shocking lack of attention, or perhaps just lack of intelligence (and this is from the supposed British intelligentsia).
On The First Post, the writer Neil Lyndon huffed and puffed about coverage of the McCanns and national papers that “traffic in degradation” without any sense that he had listened to Dacre’s argument for a rumbustiously entertaining press.
On his blog, Observer columnist Henry Porter criticised the Mail’s ‘inconsistency’ (the intellectual snob’s favourite word) in defending the right to expose the private antics of Max Moseley and attacking the government’s plans to store data on phone and web use, without appearing to understand the huge difference in principle between the misdemeanours of public figures and the innocent business of private citizens.
Charlie Beckett, the director of the media think tank Polis, merely pointed out that “many people do not think S&M is depraved”, forgetting perhaps that the Mail is not about ‘many’ it is about ‘most’.
Peter Wilby, the Guardian media columnist, says in his brilliantly acerbic style, that it is pernicious to attack the most trusted news source in the land (Beeb) and that without it we’d only be left with the distortions of the Mail. He must have missed Dacre’s previous assertions that he would “die in a ditch” to defend the need for a BBC but that he was trying to take a stand against its incursion into every nook and cranny of national life.
Most vehement of all was Polly Toynbee in her Guardian column. Among other things she attacked Dacre’s twisted logic for saying that Mr Justice Eady, the judge in the Moseley case, might have felt very differently if his wife or daughter had been one of the prostitutes in uniform. No logic was intended. Dacre’s point is an emotional one. He does not think that anybody’s wife or daughter should be treated like Moseley treated his willing accomplices in S&M. Indeed the twisted logic is Toynbee’s argument that there is an equivalence between torturers and newspapers who expose people.
The Guardian letters page today contains a clutch of readers cockily pointing out the difference for the millionth time between ‘interesting to the public’ and ‘public interest’. But whenever Dacre defends the press right to expose public figures he is patently clear. He is talking about public interest. Joe Calzaghe would as likely confuse ‘punch’ with a fruit drink.
The headlines after the speech focussed on Dacre’s attack on Mr Justice Eady and on the expansion of the BBC. But the speech is not primarily about either of these points. It is primarily a defence of populism.
The emotional populist, such as Dacre, believes that ordinary people have instincts and reactions which, if properly tapped, will be sufficient to provide guidance and authority to the statesman. He supports the people versus the elites. Long passages of his speech last Sunday were a tribute to the great populists who shaped his career; a previous generation of newspaper editors such as John Junor and Arthur (We never waste space saying, “On the one hand.” We just state an opinion in a Godlike voice) Christiansen, legendary editor of Beaverbook’s Express and tireless champion of the little man.
Of course any of these editors will take a stand again the pink-cheeked judge and the smug BBC. Of course they will rail against the loss-making liberal-left papers that think that they know best and have a right to stick their views down people’s throats (however good these papers actually are, and they are). What is shocking is that this should offend so many people so deeply. Why? Are we still so class-ridden that we are afraid of the convictions of around one in three of our countrymen? Do we yearn so strongly for the infinitely more elitist culture of continental Europe?
I believe that the press, in its current crisis, is betraying itself. It is so distracted by commercial, technological and cultural problems that it is very seriously missing the point. I bemoaned last week the shocking lack of innovation and inventiveness among newspaper managements. However it is just as important to recognise the shocking lack of ability among editors and journalists to connect with a readership and write with sufficient passion about anything worth caring for. The British press is still among the best in the world. But the steady growth of flimsy, pointless opinion writing combined with predictable, turgid and irrelevant news is the real problem. Blaming the internet, the advertising downturn and the price of paper is a lame excuse.
Dacre’s speech was a call to arms. His paper practises populism his way. There are other ways. Did anyone listen?
We were in Amsterdam last week (thus, lazily, no column) at the main annual gathering of IFRA, an acronym that according to the organisers “no longer means anything”.
It used to be the event for newspaper publishers to meet and talk about printing. It is now trying to turn itself, with only partial success, into the event for publishers to meet and talk about everything from software to websites (as well as print).
So it was a good place to take the temperature of the patient that is the newspaper industry and to talk to the people that run it. Here were the commercial bosses from newspaper companies in all the major economies of the world.
I had some meetings arranged in advance with outstanding people that I respect and admire. However out on the floor of the conference what a dismal experience it was. If it had been a parade ground these were emphatically not the Marines. Dad’s Army perhaps.
With the benefit of a few days’ reflection I would put it more temperately. There were, as I say, some very interesting and vital voices there. But to convey the raw emotion that I felt on Day Two of IFRA, I find my notebook contains the following:
“What a gathering of jobbernowls! Seldom have I tuned into a more lifeless, jargon-filled, half-baked, self-pitying, poorly-digested, left-over rice pudding of thoughts about the state of journalism. If we want to know why our business is in such a state we must surely start with this: the management is not up to scratch”.
I have a friend who is on the board of a top international business school. “Journalism attracts some top young intellects,” she says. “It is still seen as a really exciting and respected role. Publishing is not. People who get jobs in publishing are people who were not smart enough for retailing, advertising or insurance.” I don’t agree with her but, apparently, plenty of her peers do.
It seemed that nearly all of the 10,000 people there were in a deep funk about print. The recession, falling currencies, newsprint prices, advertising downturns, free papers, aging readers and the incursions of the web were all cited as reasons. Hall 10 (I think it was) where the big print companies had their stalls was either referred to as the Dinosaur Park or the Natural History Museum.
I was shocked by the pessimism. Maybe Roy Greenslade is right. His arguments about the inevitable death of print are always lucid and powerfully put and his is a voice to be taken extremely seriously. In an excellent blog today about the BBC and the regions he rams it home:
“Old media - whether it be newspapers, magazines or straightforward radio and TV broadcasting - has accepted that it must move on to a new platform, the internet, if it is to survive.”
I have spent two years, so far, struggling to start a newspaper in the UK so I am under no illusions about how tough it is. I have not one trace of rose-tinting left on my old and battered spectacles.
However I have always believed that printed newspapers have lives still to live. I have always believed that there are new types of newspapers we haven’t imagined yet that will excite readers all over again.
Let me try and clarify the two contrasting views here. First there is the view that newspapers are a format. An oft-used metaphor is from the music industry. Anyone over 50 has seen the market move from vinyl to digital (and everything in between) in rapid order. As a society we still love music. We simply store it and play it in a different way. According to this view, newspapers are the vinyl of news. News will continue but papers won’t.
The second view is that newspapers are a genre. This view holds that there is something about newspapers that makes them a category of their own, with a distinctive form, content and technique that can’t be replaced - such as theatre or oil painting. These genres have not been replaced by possible substitutes such as film or photography. On the contrary they have been inspired by them to new directions. According to this view the internet will not replace newspapers but will enable a reinvention to take place inside newspapers, creating myriad new opportunities for journalism and for entrepreneurs.
Anyone who loves newspapers and has seen them function well will know what I mean when I talk about the sum of print, paper, type, words, pictures, history, opinion and character adding up to more than the parts. This is what makes a genre. By contrast there was nothing about a cassette tape of Leonard Cohen that made the listening experience any different to a CD of Leonard Cohen.
There are plenty of newspaper master classes to be had currently in Britain. (How to run a campaign - Daily Mail. How to design a page - Guardian). I would posit that there are hardly any to be had in the USA which might help explain why the industry is doing so badly there. It’s interesting that web evangelists such as Jeff Jarvis are becoming increasingly excited by the idea of editors - or “content DJs” as he suggested we might call them earlier this week.
In the aftermath of the financial collapse, people are looking for simple realities and hard truths. Real journalism, analysis, reportage and explanation can live better on the printed page than on the screen. Advertisers that want to share that authenticity also seem to prefer print. No stand-alone website has yet found a way to fund journalism.
All this requires more thought, I know.
But perhaps, if newspaper managements were as innovative and exciting as, say, Google’s - we wouldn’t be quite so glum.
If we take ‘our age’ as being the past 30 years, its defining debates have been around the following subjects (results in brackets): capitalism v communism (knock-out victory to capitalism); East v West (East coming up strongly); rationalism v fundamentalism (rationalism winning not without fierce resistance); free markets v controlled economies (we thought free markets had triumphed eh??) and consumerism v slow/green/small/simple movements (more later).
When the histories get written by our great grandchildren I think it will be last debate that is seen to be the most significant. This is the underlying ebb and flow which really governs our lives. Our age is the one in which pockets of people first took to heart the conservationist gospel against which all else pales and whose long term effects supersede all others. In addition, and in my view even more powerfully, our age is the one in which nearly everyone experimented with the idea that sex and shopping could make you happy and found it severely wanting.
This is the philosophical reason why the current story of the markets is so exciting and important. It is much more than a story of human hardship, greedy bankers and panicked politicians although that in itself is a drama that commands attention. It is a story of the turning point in the most important debate of the past thirty years. In future our descendants may look back and say: “October 2008 is when the slow movement won”.
Our age is when the view that life’s main aim was consumption and the purchase of material possessions reached its widest acceptance. It was energetically encouraged by the champions of laissez-faire economics, continual growth and free markets. Against it, has been a growing coalition, united in opposition even though sharply divided on many key matters. This coalition includes conservationists, anti-capitalists, socialists and religious groups.
Even before October, any attentive observer of British life would have noted a steady efflorescence of this anti-consumerist front. But it was this month’s ungainly collapse of the free market economies of the West that really became the tipping point in the argument and the moment when the anti-consumerists gained the upper hand.
Where does anti-consumerism take us? The Future Foundation says we should expect more “smart boredom”. We should expect more log fires (boom time for chimney sweeps apparently); more cycles; more cooking at home; more scrapbooks; more knitting; more board games. Above all we should expect to see a hardening of consumer taste in favour of the sustainable, the rough-and-ready and the real. The highest mark of value? No longer Paris, London and New York but home-made.
Most fascinating of all to some of us is - what does this mean for journalism? Who is it bad for and who is it good for?
The bad news is that it is likely to be bad for the mainstream which currently gives most journalists their livelihood. Most of our mainstream media from ITV on one side to the Daily Mail on the other is both fascinated by consumerism and heavily dependent on it. Keeping up with the Joneses drives much of its content. And advertising, the lifeblood of consumerism, drives much of its revenue.
The pressure on this model is hardly new. Decline has been endemic for several years. But a widespread step change in sentiment such as the one that will follow on from the banking collapse of October 2008 will make this pressure immeasurably worse.
What sort of journalism will it be good for? Slow journalism, honest journalism, sincere journalism. One of the most thoughtful newspapermen I know predicts the rise of something like the Campaign For Real Journalism. By this I believe he means a pressure group that will fight for the right of journalists to spend enough time on a story to get somewhere near the truth of the matter, to do investigative work, to go off the beaten track and to polish the end result.
There has been a lot of interest in the US in a new website called ProPublica. This is an independent, non-profit newsroom that produces investigative journalism in the public interest - supported by donations from several American foundations. British charity law is very different and I doubt the same site could flourish here but the need for it is parallel.
I also think the new zeitgeist will be good for home made journalism, for the individual with something to say and for the small group with a clearly defined purpose - as far as possible removed from the corporate structures and junk superficiality of the mass markets. It is precisely this trend that is giving such energy to journalism on the web. Of course it’s a truism now but no less worth remembering for that: anyone with a Word Press blog can now do their home made journalism and have access to a potential audience of trillions.
This week we at Shakeup tried to apply this thought to print. We tried to produce a prototype newspaper that was as “home made” as possible, without recourse to expensive presses or complex technologies. The result was The Manual, entirely hand-written and hand-drawn, distributed at certain tube stations on Monday morning, complete with ink splodges and errant lines where a hand had wobbled. (See the blog below for more).
We carried no advertising, used 100% recycled paper and printed on simple silk screen presses in a old workshop in Dalston. We consciously tried to convey something of the smell and feel of the materials that the newspaper was made of since we wanted people to keep it as an object of beauty rather than to discard it as junk.
We didn’t print that many copies but if we had printed 5,000 and had paid everyone involved at normal commercial rates we would have had to charge £3.50 an issue to break even.
I guess that means it isn’t a business. However, maybe that’s the unreconstructed mass market newspaperman in me. After all, £3.50 for a work of art that also happens to inform you about the world - that wouldn’t be a bad price.
This is most of the team (above) working last night on producing the first hand-made newspaper in the UK. Every word and every image and every mark of any kind in The Manual was drawn by a team of volunteers - mostly illustrators. The printing was also by hand, silk screened at The Print Club in Dalston. Each copy of the paper has been numbered in a limited edition of around 100.
This one-off non-profit project was organised by Shakeup Media to make a point about the future of print. We hope to show that handmade qualities can transform newspapers from ‘junk’ to collectable. We also want to demonstrate the power of print as a medium by using ink and paper in a manner that emphasises their unique touch, smell and texture.
(We are using 100% recycled 170gsm B2 size sheets folded in half and Neptune water-based ink with 10% retarder).
The journalism in The Manual is a work in progress but we are aiming for a style that is more explanatory than simply factual - the motto of the paper is “Today Explained”. And of course, being only four pages long, the paper must be extremely selective about the events that it covers.
What do we want to achieve? In our wildest dreams we would find a sponsor that wanted to produce a paper like this regularly. Otherwise we are happy simply to have done it once and worked with so many talented and generous illustrators and printers.
The photographs here are all copyright of the award-winning Caroline Irby (www.carolineirby.com)
The Cast
Richard Addis
Ryan Bowman
Jackie Shorey
Beatrice Addis
Chrissie Abbott - illustrator (website)
Susie Q and the Owls - illustrator (website) Fran - illustrator
Paco Garcia - illustrator (website)
John Sunyer - writer
Patrick Savile - printer (website) Nicolai Sciater - printer (website)
Emily Evans - printer/calligrapher
Victoria Torrance - printer/calligrapher
Rachel Solnick - calligrapher (website)
Becca Davies - calligrapher
William Williamson - film
Caroline Irby - photographer (website) Tom Barette
Fred - printer/Print Club owner (website) Kate - printer/Print Club owner (website)