As Jesus said when he reached the top of a mountain somewhere in Galilee and turned to face the cameras, “Some stuff is happening and I’m here to tell you about it” [Matthew 5:1-2]. He was a man before his time. These last few weeks, months or years, depending on how many references I get into this article, have seen changes to the way we view, choose and consume media that anybody born tomorrow will take for granted but many born before 1980 refuse to even accept. A few things have happened particularly recently (or ‘last month’ as it will be referred to a month from now) that are particularly salient amongst the cacophonic playground noise of examples in support of this argument.
For those of you yet to discover him, Jon Stewart hosts
The Daily Show on Comedy Central that ‘takes a reality-based look at news, trends, pop culture, current events, sports and entertainment with an alternative point of view’. ‘Alternative’ is a reference to the ‘spinmeisters and shills on the American 24 cable news network’, who, on 1 April 2009, were in receipt of a ‘smackdown’ from Stewart himself. Bearing the brunt was Jim Cramer, host of
CNBC’s Mad Money, who was humiliated and destroyed (
his words) by Stewart, whose charge sheet was fairly simple. CNBC and its cohorts failed to report the truth about the economic crisis. Bear Sterns, Lehman Brothers, Merrill Lynch, Bank of America and AIG were all shored up by CNBC’s experts and the footage in which they did so was (on
The Daily Show) artfully juxtaposed with the facts of their respective demises – collapse, bankruptcy and bailouts. Cramer was one such expert, and his humiliation at the hands of Stewart has caused widespread fallout in the world of journalism and parts of the internet where people care about this kind of stuff.
But this was much more than Stewart vs. Cramer or Comedy Central vs. CNBC. The real question is why they got it so wrong; why couldn’t they see the biggest crisis since the 1930s coming? Discounting incompetence and the fact that its size made it harder to accurately predict – because they are not excuses – the important part of Stewart’s argument is one echoing round the world of new media. Many journalists are either too cosy with or too dependent on the people whose activities they are supposed to report on. This means that if the truth conflicts with the line they are fed the latter wins and the public lose, every time.
The same argument was levelled at certain political journalists more recently in fairly spectacular fashion by the political blogosphere when its biggest player,
Guido Fawkes, toppled government spinner and all round twatbag
Damien McBride. His abusive treatment of lobby journalists via text message went unreported for years precisely because if it had been, the reporting journalist would have lost the access to politicians that their career depended on. I know you don’t care about Westminster playground scuffles, but this episode matters and is relevant, despite appearances, because it is yet another example of the fact that the old school old media way of doing things is dying out, and how you consume your news is changing.
Journalists used to ‘make’ the news. If you read The Times tomorrow you will consider yourself up to date with ‘the news’. But what if something happened that The Times didn’t consider newsworthy? Limitations of finance, space, geography and time have always stood in the way of us gathering our own news, which is why we use journalists as our gatekeepers on the world’s events. But those boundaries were, if not smashed, seriously eroded the moment the internet became a household must-have. If you have enough free time and know how to use Blogger or Wordpress (see last month’s issue) you too can be a gatekeeper. Or you can be a one-off journalist, like those who Tweeted about the Mumbai bombings or sent the first pictures of that plane on the Hudson River – every national event now features this networked journalism and will do forever more. At the other end of the same spectrum,
The Drudge Report (Matt Drudge broke the Clinton/Lewinsky scandal) has more than three million unique visits per day, and all he does is put links to other sites’ stories on his site. He rarely authors stories himself. The internet gives everyone the potential to do something similar, and with a scoop like Clinton/Lewinsky, enormous agenda-setting power. Obviously connections on the inside are extremely helpful, but if your website gains a readership on its own merits, those contacts will find you.
Woe abounds about the death of newspapers, particularly local ones, but those advocating its rescue are missing two fundamental points: first, it is happening whether you like it or not. People are buying fewer newspapers because they can get their news online, and you cannot rebottle the genie. Second, it doesn’t matter, at least not for journalism. The written word’s content and quality are not affected by its form, whether it is printed on paper, uploaded or published. So equating the death of the newspaper with the death of journalism is completely false, and, I would suggest, rather a masked scream from those in the commentariat who have realised that the internet’s archival nature shows the worst of them up as inaccurate, hypocritical and short-termist in their views, while its low barriers to entry have simultaneously facilitated millions of potentially worthy journalistic adversaries.
If you’re a reader rather than a writer all you really need to know is the gatekeepers are changing. If you value your news you need to know that the parameters of information supply have been stretched to the point of non-existence. In other, more normal words, the only thing now limiting your news supply is your own time and how much of it you want to spend reading. This doesn’t mean all news is online and written by anonymous bloggers; comedian (not journalist) Jon Stewart is one such new gatekeeper. TV is not shiny and new, but as I said and repeat: the form does not matter. (In an attempt to tie this article together) if the internet had been around several years earlier there would have been no need for the Sermon to be on The Mount. Jesus would have blogged his moral teachings, the disciples would have linked to the post, it would have been covered by the national press and the rest of us might have tweeted about it. The message would have reached millions in minutes rather than millions in years. Big JC would have been a networked journalist too, only with a slightly more powerful editor than usual (or maybe not). In addition to which and perhaps more importantly, people wouldn’t have had to rely on their local tribesmen/town criers/journalists/gossips – the old school gatekeepers – to find out about what he said. The whole transcript would have been up on
The Huffington Post in pdf before you could say Christ Almighty.
So the next time you hear
Polly Toynbee moaning about people leaving nasty comments under her stupid factless articles or politicians complaining about bloggers uncovering their expenses, leave them a comment of your own (after all, it is free). Mine will simply read: the future is networked; deal with it.