What Will Happen When All Newspapers Die?

The fact that print journalism is dying is not news anymore. People read less, look at pictures more, love listicles, and rattle off witticisms online as soon they pop into their heads. News executives are talking about "engagement" and "metrics", using staff to create advertorials, and redesigning their websites to remain relevant. The only question is: how will these changes affect what we know about the world?

For starters, we'll be far less informed. Aside from crime, sports events, and "who wore it best?" polls, news is still broken mostly by reporters at local newspapers and wire services. And it is often these reporters that supply the material for the more popular media. (For a funny example, just check out this clip with news reports about Mike Myers' new baby. Could they all have the same news writer on staff?)

A survey this year by the Pew Research Center found that 31 percent of adults have deserted a news outlet because it no longer provides the news and information they want. Of those deserters, more than 60 percent said less complete stories were the most noticeable change in news today. The reason is simple: reporting actually does require skill and talent. Staff writers at a daily paper have to quickly find news to report and figure out how they will complete their stories in only a few hours. They have to interview both sides in a dispute, and present each of the perspectives accurately and fairly. And on tight daily deadlines, they have to distill the most important facts and quotes into a tight and compelling narrative that will both inform readers and keep their attention.

Don't get me wrong: citizen journalism, crowdsourcing, and social listening have enhanced journalism, providing reporters with a faster and far richer view of what readers think and feel. But given a choice of a one-sided rant and shaky cell phone video, or a short and structured story that represents all sides, what would most people pick? I would think the latter. There is simply no amount of packaging and marketing that can replace the value of old-fashioned reporting.

Where Were You on 9/11? Don't Ask

For 11 years we've remembered the day that terrorists flew planes into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania, killing nearly 3,000 innocent people. But I still avoid conversations that begin: Where were you on 9/11? I know it's an open-ended question that prompts us to share first-hand accounts of that tragic day and its global impact. But whether it's survivor's guilt, hypersensitivity, or both, I just don't feel comfortable sharing my story.

Maybe it's because I was a young reporter at a daily newspaper in the suburbs north of New York City, just getting to work with no idea how big a story it was. Or perhaps, it was because my job post-9/11 was to help find out who died and write about them. In the first few days and weeks, it was making calls and knocking on doors, trying to find out if husbands and wives knew the status of their loved ones. Soon, I was covering memorial services and funerals, from Central Park to Scarsdale, learning about the people who died just because they worked in those two towers. It was hard for sure; but I always felt lucky just to be alive. I saw the funerals as a chance not only to write about the lives of victims, but also to learn from them. Some weeks or months after 9/11, the news staff received an email from a top editor, recognizing the work we had all done and offering us the option to turn down another funeral assignment if it was just too tough. I remember appreciating that message: the editors recognized we were all human.

Still, I never turned down an assignment. It was not because I was better than other reporters, whom I hope took breaks whenever needed. But I guess I saw reporting as my duty to the victims and their families. It didn't matter where I was on 9/11; it only mattered where they were.

If It's a Need, It Leads: Why Local News is Reporting Less Crime and More Traffic/Weather

 
When I was living in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, I found a local blog that was a great way to stay informed about the neighborhood. The blog, MyUpperWest.com, featured stories on new restaurants and stores, on movies being filmed in the neighborhood, and on free or inexpensive events on the weekends. Quite simply, it was news that people could use to make decisions about how to spend their time and money in their community.

Sites like MyUpperWest represent a shift from the local news of the past few decades. Acording to a recent study by the Pew Research Center, local TV news shows are spending less time on crime stories, and more time on traffic and weather. In my view, the reason is clear and simple: people want news they can use. Maybe it's the endless stream of crime shows on TV, or the reality of living with the constant threat of terrorism? Or maybe it's the economy, which has left many people both un- and under-employed and worried about their financial futures?  Either way, local TV news seems to be getting the picture: people are less fascinated by violence, and more intrigued by how to enjoy life on tight budgets. The old mantra -- if it bleeds, it leads -- has been replaced with -- if it's a need, it leads.

Now that I moved to Forest Hills, I have been picking up the local newspapers and reading them on a regular basis to learn about my neighborhood. And if I find anything like MyUpperWest.com, or hear about a major traffic jam on the Grand Central, I will be sure to let you know.