Archive for the ‘My Work’ category

5 things

January 27th, 2010

I had lunch with two of my former tutors the other week.

Well, I say former, but really they still are my tutors. Example late-night panic text: “Debbie! How many words should a 30 second cue be?!”

Anyway – I met Debbie and Andrew in the bar at Bush House. I could have sat there for hours chatting about things media with them.

We chatted about blogging. This blog, in fact, which the eagle-eyed among you will know is pretty much dead. A busy job, you see, is a surefire way of sapping time away from a personal project like this.

Sad, really, because it was this blog that opened up the opportunities which got me the job I’m enjoying right now.

Andrew said it’s important that at the very least I write about what I’m up to – if only for my own benefit years from now.

So I’ve come up with this plan. Rather than spend hours pushing out well-crafted (ha!) posts – I think I’ll keep it simple. “5 things I’ve learned about…” is the theme. Just five things. And I’m starting later today.

The depressing but inevitable demise of Press Gazette

April 6th, 2009

Today, Wilmington Media announced that Press Gazette, the UK’s journalism trade mag, will be closing.

It’s a sad day — Press Gazette has been a part of many a journalist’s career, from the Grey Cardigan column keeping the old-timers happy, to the Knowledge section showing newcomers the way to go.

I’m proud to say I contributed plenty to the magazine. First, as student on work experience. Being on the newsdesk of what was already a shrinking staff gave me plenty of opportunities. And as I wrote up notes on the train home I realised that I was improving as a journalist with every day I spent there.

There were signs of discontent when I was on my placement. While looking through the paper archives, I was struck by how the print product had evolved in such a short time. Gone was the slick, filled-to-the-brim magazine that screamed “finger” and “pulse” at you. In its place had arrived a cheap-feeling, awkward publication that resembled an internal staff newsletter.

I was told, way back in 2007, that the British Press Awards — the magazine’s big event of the year — was what was keeping PG alive and well. Well, alive at least. It was a real money spinner. Should the awards go, then the magazine would almost certainly go with it. It’s no coincidnce that the Awards happened last week. One last hurrah.

I made some great contacts. Martin Stabe, the then online editor (who is now at Retail Week), gave me what was essentially my first big break by linking to my site from his widely read blog. I repayed this favour by calling him Michael. D’oh. Martin managed to hook me up as the magazine’s Student Journalism blogger — my first regular paid gig.

After university, Martin gave me my second big break, putting me in touch with Nick Reynolds at the BBC. That contact led to my current job on the BBC Internet Blog. I hope and believe that if I play my cards right, I could well end up working for the BBC for the rest of my life.

There’s no doubt that I wouldn’t be in the position I am now without the help of Martin and Press Gazette.

But in more recent times, my relationship with the magazine has been seriously tarnished.

Fast forward from 2007 to last summer. After a month or so of unemployed panic, I was excited to learn that Press Gazette were hiring a reporter. Brilliant news for me — I knew most of the staff, knew the beat, had the skills and even the contacts.

Encouragingly, two members of staff emailed to suggest  I go ahead and apply.

I was confident. In reality, I should have been sceptical. The position I was filling was that of Patrick Smith — who grabbed a great spot on PaidContent. They needed a replacement, or so I thought.

I’d decided I didn’t want the job about five minutes into the interview. I was told that they didn’t actually know if they were hiring anyone. What they’d prefer to do was extend the hours of an existing member of staff from three days (if I remember correctly) to five days. Fair enough — although it would have been a good idea to work their budgets out before advertising for a full time reporter.

But I could let that go detail go. What I couldn’t let go was what happened next. I was offered another placement — maybe (yes, maybe) with expenses. Incredibly insulting — I’d gone from applying for a job to being offered some work experience. To quote a tabloid sensation who is no longer with us: “‘Ave I got ‘MUG’ written on my ‘ead?”

I didn’t. I turned down the placement (or rather, scooted around the offer) and said I was interested in the paid position, thanks. They said they’d let me know.

Weeks passed, and nothing. Nothing until the leaving do of Patrick, which I was invited along to. On the day of his departure, I got a call at about half five letting me know I didn’t get the job. I’m guessing the editor suddenly realised it would be a good idea to tell me before I went to to the pub. After all, everyone there would be congratulating the successful applicant. Or rather, the reporter who got two extra days a week.

I wonder how long it would have taken had I not gone to wish Patrick well?

But that’s besides the point. What that whole furore told me about Press Gazette is that it was a publication in complete disarray. My experiences were just one part of a big mess that started from the very top and tumbled down. It was a publication that lacked direction, ideas and, crucially, money. As a freelance, I’ve waited over 8 months to be paid by them, contiually emailing and ringing to get it sorted out. Only to learn the best way to deal with the unprofessionalism (of their accounts, not the journalists) was to have a great old rant on Twitter.

A great shame. Journalism needs publications like Press Gazette, but long gone are the days where it had any real drive or clout. MediaGuardian, big in budget, has flattened it into a mere pancake of irrelevance.

Is it risky to have the dominant media publication tied to a newspaper? Probably, but MediaGuardian still reports discontent at the Guardian Media Group, so, on the surface at least, it seems to be ok. And if not, bloggers and other sites can make up the gap.

Maybe Press Gazette will rise up from the dead like it has done in the past — but I don’t see it. This collapse goes well beyond the credit crunch. A magazine that I held in very high regard has fallen from a once great height, leaving me with a very bitter taste in my mouth.

The journalists at PG only found out of the closure today too. Not surprising — given my experience there. I wish them all the very best of luck finding other work — when you look at the size of the staff, to put out that much good content was an amazing effort, and they all deserve to be better paid and appreciated.

There’ll be coos of nostalgia for Press Gazette in the press for the next few days, but, with tinges of regret, it really is time to let it go. They say the website will remain, but I think we all know it’ll just be the job site and little else. Roy Greenslade has put out this plea for a buyer — but I don’t think any publishers will touch it.

Just one example of how a blog can help your career

March 18th, 2009

I’d like to share with you a string of emails I sent and received recently.

Dear [Editor],

I would like to offer you this feature idea for [publication]– hopefully I haven’t missed your print deadlines for your next issue. If you’re interested, please get in touch.

[My pitch went here -- you think I'm gonna show off my technique? Pfft!]

I hope you are interested in the piece and I look forward to hearing from you.

Kind regards,

Dave

The reply:

Dave,

Thanks for getting in touch. We have already lined up an article about [my pitch] for next month.

Regards

[EDITOR]

Balls. My reply:

Hi [EDITOR]

Not to worry — thank you for getting back to me so quickly.

Best wishes,

Dave

End of discussion. Or was it? A few moments later:

Dave,

I see from your blog that you write about media & technology. We had half an idea for looking at [story]. Is this something you’ve  been following?

[EDITOR]

Ah ha! Looks like Mr jBlog has helped me out — yet again!

My piece went into the magazine last week, earning me a modest yet satisfying sum.

Is it worth starting a blog? This piece alone has covered hosting/domain costs for the next two years. You’d be a fool not to!

Cuttings: Social media money, Project Canvas, Al-Jazeera brilliance and brandjackers ahoy

March 9th, 2009

Number one sign you’ve been doing this journalism malarky for a while is that you don’t post “LOOK AT ME!!” posts every time something is published.

Nah. Instead you save up a few and then do an even bigger “AINT I JUST BRILLIANT?!” post instead. :-)

So here are a few things I’ve been up to lately.

Journalism.co.uk: ‘Journalism schools: embrace Al Jazeera’s Creative Commons deal’

You might not know it yet, but Al Jazeera may have just changed the face of student journalism.

The news agency has now started publishing its news footage on the web under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 licence.

BBC News: The future of TV lies on the net

In early March, the BBC Trust set about the task of debating the public value of Project Canvas.

Should the plans put forward by the BBC executive get the go-ahead, it might mean that Internet Protocol Television (IPTV) becomes a staple feature in UK homes as early as 2010.

BBC News: Making money on a social network

It remains the elephant in the room. Or, more to the point, the “fail whale” in the room.

Just how are social networks, with their millions upon millions of users, going to make money?

BBC News: Online brand abuse ‘on the rise’

Online abuse of the world’s top brands is rising, according to a report.

Cyber-squatting – in which someone registers a domain name with the aim of selling it on at a later date – remains the most common form of abuse.

Ta-da!

Is the BBC reporting on Twitter too much?

March 8th, 2009

bbcfailwhaleIn the last six months, thanks to a certain Stephen Fry, Twitter has catapulted from being a past-time restricted to, mainly, geeks and journalists into a mainstream hit.

It’s everywhere. On Thursday, freebie London mag Shortlist led with it on the cover, a magazine which generally tends to stick to top actors, sports people or beautiful women on their front page.

It’s also all over the BBC, as this Google search demonstrates. It appears some readers have had enough.

This post by Darren Waters on BBC News Technology dot.life blog fell onto the pointy end of the licence fee payer stick in the comments:

Here is a line-up of self-appointed ‘techies’, neither of whom can claim any real scientific or technological qualifications, who are being paid, with license fee-payer’s money, to inform us precisely how they waste our money.

Says one.

Any chance you could shut up about Twitter, and start to do some journalism for a change? For example, a half-decent investigation into Phorm and BT, or are you scared you might upset someone?

Says another. And one more:

You’re peddling the same opinion (note, not “story” or “news”) again and again – that Twitter is a journalism tool. We get that you believe that. Thanks for pointing it out. Repeatedly.#

It would be wrong to ignore their points (and indeed, I was surprised to learn when I joined, comments are taken very seriously at the Beeb. Pressure from readers via blogs really does make a difference here).

It’s easy to see their argument. If you don’t use the service, it must be a bit tiresome to see so much coverage on what is essentially one solitary website.

In comparison to other sites, though, the BBC is relatively Twitter-free. Darren Waters tweeted these figures a few moments ago:

Readers complain we talk about Twitter too much. BBCNews: 450 refs in 1 month. Guardian:1,700 Times.co.uk 4,500 NYimes 9,800.

And what if those nay-sayers are just, y’know, wrong? When BBC blogs (and most mainstream media blogs) first started out, the comments ranged from the crazy to the bored unemployed. But now their a little more diverse, and often raise points as well put as the original piece. I draw your attention to this (from the same entry):

It’s *really* nuts to complain that Twitter is just full of “mindless drivel”.

Twitter is a medium, not content.

Content is provided by human beings, not the medium itself.

Hence, if you’re reading drivel it’s because you’re talking to the wrong people. If you were at a party listening to a bunch of people stood around together and the conversation was rubbish, you’d drift away quietly and find some more interesting people to talk to.

This is like complaining that it’s the fault of “the telephone” that people ring you up and try and sell you double-glazing. Or putting your foot through the TV because you’re watching a rubbish programme on a crappy channel.

Twitter is an extremely powerful tool that enables conversations between lots of people simultaneously. That’s all. If you’re finding it tedious, follow some different tweeple.

Brilliant point, I’d say. Many of the readers that are anti-Twitter complain it is simply full of rubbish. The above comment deals with why that’s no reason to give up on it.

But we must consider this valid perspective too:

You see, conventional social discussion mediums such as email and SMS (used by the BBC, in this case, for the acquisition of public opinion on TV and radio channels, read out by presenters) are all regulated by international internet or phone network standards, none of which is protected or owned by a particular trademark or brand name – at least not one the BBC ever endorses. You can SMS a BBC TV or radio station with your opinions in numerous different ways, as you can also email from any domain or webmail package out there. It is transparent, free and bereft of any endorsement or brand advertising.

But Twitter is different. Twitter isn’t a standard or a protocol, it’s not regulated by any government or any international internet organisation. It’s a brand name. A trademark. A business. It is self-regulating and self-managing. And for the BBC to chime out messages, from the public writing on Twitter, to their audience via TV or radio, they are endorsing Twitter – simply by mentioning it to this audience.

I couldn’t possibly argue against this. He/she is right. We rarely say ‘micro-blogging’ is taking the country by storm, do we? We just say Twitter. But then why wouldn’t we? Micro-blogging, on the whole, isn’t doing all that well — Twitter is only popular choice. But it’s still a business which will, eventually, come to use its dominance for commercial gain. The BBC, in that respect at least, should be very careful.

But here’s the twist: I firmly believe Twitter is part of a communication revolution. It’s not just some little website.

Just like the telegram, the telephone and the email that came before it, Twitter is already changing how millions of people communicate.

Therefore, it’s the BBC’s duty to be on top of its every development. To not be would fail licence fee payers. Technological advances are never popular — even among technology readers. Scepticism runs wild: “Why do I need this?” is the common cry. But, I’d argue, it’s our job to hold onto a makeshift crystal ball. There are few tech journos who don’t think Twitter is a major player in the internet. I myself recently penned a piece assessing how Twitter can be right up there with Google in web search stakes — look out for that soon.

Whenever I think of sceptics, I think of two groups of people. The first I was reminded of a couple of days ago when I met a man who worked on the launch of bbc.co.uk. He told me that there was some opposition to the BBC using the internet at all. I wonder how those opposers feel now.

The second group was a bunch of people who said that the video phone was a pile of steaming proverbial. And they were right.

I’m not saying Twitter is as significant as the maturing of the internet. What I’m saying is that the principle behind Twitter is, despite its simplicity, a major shift in how the world interacts. A shift that should be covered, disected and scrutinised at every turn. Not only by the BBC, but by everyone.

NUJ follow up: I’m still not convinced

February 12th, 2009

I’ve been doing some thinking about this whole NUJ thing. My post the other night reads very ranty — indeed, I guess it is very ranty — but I’m pleased to see that many readers of this blog agree with what I’m getting at.

And, from the defence, I received some rather predictable responses against my argument.

I’ll start with this point, from Joanna Geary (formerly Birmingham Post, now The Times):

I have much sympathy with your argument, although £13 a month for legal protection may be worth it and it is for that reason I am still an NUJ member.

Of everything I received (and blimey, there was a LOT) this was perhaps the most useful. £13 a month, as Joanna says, is very good to get legal protection.I can’t argue with that.

But it’s comments like this from ‘Chris’ (no link given) that remind me why I wrote that post:

But you wait till you’re staring down the barrel of redundancy – through no fault of your own, just because it happens that your team is being shut down.

Wait till you’re being forced to accept alternative work in a place you don’t want to live or in an area you have no interest in.

Wait till you’re summoned to meetings for a “quick chat” and end up facing four senior managers using classic intimidation tactics.

Then you’ll wish you had a union rep by your side to help fight your corner.

It’s always good to have a union behind you if you’re facing redundancy. Now, I underqualify myself here, as not only have I never faced redundancy, but I work for a corporation that is arguably more ’stable’. In other words, licence fees are still coming in. While not immune, we are safer.

But my issue is that while the NUJ are fighting a corner, it’s all rather pointless. Take this recent example of an NUJ ‘fight’:

The NUJ has strongly condemned the decision of Independent Newspapers to enforce three redundancies at The Kerryman newspaper in Tralee.

Séamus said: “This proposal represents a direct attack on the editorial heart of one of the oldest and most significant newspapers in Ireland. The inevitable consequence would be a poorer newspaper, which would not adequately reflect the community life of Kerry.”

At a meeting with the union yesterday, management announced its intention to make three journalists redundant. The NUJ chapel held an emergency meeting at which management was urged to rescind the decision, which staff say will have a detrimental effect on The Kerryman and Corkman titles.

My issue with this goes back to my ‘SAVE THE JOURNALISTS!” argument. The NUJ is pouring its efforts into protesting job cuts, when really they should be coming together — as a union — to offer more productive aid to their members. Advice on training, re-skilling and re-deployment.

Ed Hart’s comment:

As an objective observer on this one, I have had good and bad experiences of unions. If I had to sum up what I would want a union to do and be, it is to work on behalf of its members. The problem is that some unions lose touch with what this means, and see themselves as lobbyists, or big movers and shakers; when in fact their remit remains low key, but essential to those who really should matter – their members. Do they occasionally forget who the customer is, and what their customer wants?

Helps me counter this argument from ‘thatstheway’ (uh huh, uh huh, I like it!):

Someone so self-consciously hip like you could have some input into its digital media strategy if you weren’t so busy doing precisely what you accuse the NUJ of doing all the time, which is complaining, and making digital media sound like some big deal that’s going to require your special skills alone.

I feel I could contribute with the NUJ no more actively than I could to ASLEF, the train drivers union. Why? I feel I don’t have a connection with their outlook in any shape of form.

I’m all for protecting the strength of print. By doing so, we uphold the values that have made our profession truly great. But I’m also aware that, like the industry, a union has to change and adapt. Sometimes there are battles that cannot be won by standing outside a building with a placard.

I think it’s time for the NUJ to take a step back and reflect.

It needs to swallow a bit of pride and admit that just because journalism is online, doesn’t make it bad. In fact, it can make it very, very good.

It needs to stop posting videos like this, which show not only a devestating lack of understanding about online media, but also an aggressive “We’re trained and you WILL employ us” attitude that we just can’t afford to have anymore.

Maybe what we need to do is knock our collective heads together and search for ideas of how the NUJ can modernise and become the forward-thinking union we all need it to be.

Because here’s the thing: I want to join the NUJ. One commenter on my last post accused me of having no sense of solidarity which, and I hope my friends would vouch for this, couldn’t be further from the truth. If the NUJ can bring itself up to speed, I would love to get stuck in and get my hands dirty.

I believe in the future of journalism. I believe that journalists will be as important in 50 years than they have ever been. I’m preparing myself, and training myself, for a world without newsprint. It’s time the NUJ got ready too.

The new way to learn journalism

January 20th, 2009

There’s a very interesting piece in a Guardian supplement today about something they’ve labelled University 2.0.

Annoyingly — and surprisingly, considering it’s the Guardian — the article isn’t online. But not to worry, I’ll quote the bit that got me thinking:

“[Peter Scott (director of the Open University's Knowledge Media Institute)] predicts that students  will soon be mixing their higher education experiences from resources all over the world, choosing to study at Harvard, say, while listening to lecutres from Oxford, taking part in discussion groups at the University of Mumbai, and sitting exams somewhere entirely different.”

Isn’t that great? Pick ‘n’ Mix education. The finest material from the finest institutions.

A date with Greg Linch and Andrew DeVigal

And, of course, this is already happening. A fortnight ago I logged on to Twitter to see Greg Linch tweeting about his imminent live webcast with the New York Times’ multimedia editor, Andrew DeVigal. I’ll pop in and have a look, I decided, not because I was really interested in sitting down for an hour and watching, but because I a) like Greg — our careers seem to run in parellel in some weird way and b) I wanted to see if it was any good.

And boy, it really was. Watch it here. Now while the shot may have been a little dark (owing to the fact Andrew was doing a presentation), it didn’t detract from the viewing. And even when the audio dropped out of sync every so often, it didn’t really matter too much.

Why? Because Andrew was brilliant. Engaging and well-prepared, his ‘lecture’ was more like a Jobs-like keynote… pacing around the room, getting excited about what he does.

And then add to the experience that while this was going on, Greg was popping links into the chat panel so that we could have a go at what he was talking about. For example, when Andrew mentioned the Virginia Tech graphic… Greg popped up moments later with a link. In that respects, this experience was actually superior to actually being there.

Oh Mindy, you came and you gave without taking

Really, she did! And indeed… she does. Constantly. Mindy McAdams, I mean. She puts her courses online so we all can learn. I used them extensively to prepare my work for New Zealand. Not because I was lazy and just wanted to copy, but because I know that Mindy is possibly the best in the world at what she does. How do I know this? Because she puts it all online. So, if the worry from colleges and universities is that free courses will mean no students — I’d argue it means the opposite. If you do a great course, we’ll all know.

Mindy doesn’t stop there. Not content with just plonking course syllibi online, she also makes online content for teaching too. Made for her students, but shared with the world. Want to learn Flash? Take a look.

Let the thinkers do the talking

So, from the practical skills-learning of Mindy, to the theoretical get-your-mind-thinking work of Adrian Monck. I was lucky enough to catch Adrian in Cambridge last year as he introduced his new book, ‘Can you trust the media?’. He is a strikingly nice bloke and, even more importantly, he discussed things that still embed themselves in my head on a dayt-to-day basis. As I established over dinner one night in the company of Martin Hirst and Jim Tucker, a good ethical brain is as important to a journalist as his newsgathering skills.

Adrian shares his thoughts on a daily basis. Offering up links and resources that, in previous years, would traditionally be saved for his students — he teaches at City — tied up in reading lists that are as long as they are tedious.

And then there’s Paul Bradshaw, David Dunkley Gyimah and the brilliant Jay Rosen. What a dream team! Not to mention all the educational journalism blogs out there. 10,000 Words being the best example right now.

Please, sirs, can we have some more?

So all that’s great, isn’t it? Of course it is! You’d be mad to argue that all this information in the open internet isn’t promoting better journalism.

As ever, we can do so much more. At the University of Lincoln, the wisdom-ous Richard Keeble organises a series of guest lectures every fortnight. Past speakers have included the BBC’s Jonathan Charles, Channel 4’s Dorothy Byrne and, the speaker that really kicked off this blog for me, Philip Knightley.

They were all brilliant sessions. With some lively Q+A. Next month, Lincoln will be hosting Will Lewis, editor of the Daily Telegraph. I’m going to try and go. But couldn’t this be streamed too?

I know other universities are holding similar sessions. And I’m sure we’d all be interested in what each place is learning about — so why can’t we share? Why can’t some students at these universities be shown how to set up a camera and stream these guest lectures to the world. I’m sure, like when I logged on to Greg’s feed, we’d have journalism students from all over the world chipping in to ask questions, get involved in discussion and, above all, LEARN.

The great open-source syallabus

In the last month I’ve attended a lecture at the University of Miami, courtesy of Greg, and asked a question to the multimedia editor of the New York Times. I’ve taken a course in Flash journalism — thanks to Mindy — and read about the pros and cons of digital recorders — handy for the future, definitely. I’ve considered the effect of the media blackout in Gaza thanks to insight (and links to other opinions, let’s not forget) from Adrian Monck. I’ve discovered some nifty resources for following breaking news thanks to 10,000 Words. That’s one hell of an education.

AdWords not known for its sensitivities

January 19th, 2009

For those of you who read my website using RSS (Feedburner tells me there are 100 of you or so… hi!), you may have come across this faux pas at the bottom of my last post about the Hudson river air crash:

ScreenShot022

I can only apologise. No doubt the word’s ‘crash’ in this post will mean the same occurs on this post instead. Perhaps if I write VIAGRA it’ll even the balance. Or at least boost my Google rankings.

Video Journalism will save newspapers in 2009

January 15th, 2009

In the past twelve months we’ve seen the amount of people watching online video go through the roof. But, unlike the YouTube boom that potentially signalled the end for professional journalism (citizen this, citizen that!), this new round of video habits has one crucial factor: length.

The success of the BBC iPlayer has shown that people are prepared to watch video online for a long time. Half an hour or more. And, in the same way the blogs took off once people were used to writing and conversing on the web, I believe that long-form online video will have a similar such boom, where masses consider half an hour spent watching something on their PC a good use of their time.

What’s more, sites such as the brilliant Vimeo show the eagerness of viewers to lap up some full-screen, HD-quality stuff. There’s no sitting around for big downloads, or trying to keep your eyes strained on an awful, grainy clip so tiny you could put a stamp over it.

Video journalism has finally come of age.

As I write this, the Guardian has no less than three pieces of video on its homepage. The NYTimes led with video earlier today — and has a HUGE video section. So too does the Telegraph. Soon, I’ll predict we’ll see video blossoming into the primary content on newspaper sites. Lead headlines always complimented with a video.

Why? Because for the reader, it’s easily digestible, engaging and interesting.

But more importantly, for the publisher, it could prove to be the money-maker they have long been searching for

Many have written about David Carr’s ludicrious statements suggesting an ‘iTunes for news’. Most are saying it’ll never work — and I agree. Why pay to read news on NYTimes, when I can read the same news in the LA Times? Or the Chicago Tribune? Or ANYWHERE?

But wait a second. What if there was a way to make your news better than everyone else? What if there was a way you could cover the same stories, but cover them so well and in such a way that people come flocking to your site; not because they can’t read it in other places, but because they really want to get your coverage.

Video journalism offers this chance. It doesn’t allow for lifted quotes, for recycled copy or for blind churnalism. It promotes good, inventive journalism.

And the reward? Advertising. Loads of it. Think of it like this: When I was in New Zealand, I regularly logged on to the BBC website to catch up. Of course, being abroad, I got BBC.com, the international, advertising-laden edition. When clicking to watch a short (<30 seconds) clip, I was presented with an advert.

I clicked away. The advert was almost as long as the clip.

But on the other hand, when I’m at home, I watch a lot of 4-on-demand, Channel 4’s catch-up service. Before and during the show, there’ll be adverts a plenty. Do I turn away? No! Because in a half an hour show, two minutes of adverts is more than acceptable. Just like in traditional media, it’s all about ratio. 30 min programme = 1 break. 1 hour programme = 3 breaks. A film = 30 minutes of trailers. Or more if you go to Cineworld.

Video journalism finally solves all the problems:

- How to stay unique — no-one has your pictures

- How to save money — no big production projects here, folks. One man, a camera and a laptop

- How to make money — people don’t mind watching adverts when it comes to long content

In time I’ll be posting my plans for how I aim to get stuck in to video journalism. I drawing inspiration from the likes of David Dunkley Gyimah, and hopefully by utilising my job at the BBC as a means for getting training an experience.

Over the next year, me and a friend will be testing the water. Baby steps, if you will, with the aim of selling two pieces of video journalism to the world’s press. Two isn’t a big number, but it idoesn’t make it any less of a task. All in good time.

BBC iPlayer Day — a lesson learned

December 15th, 2008

Last Friday was iPlayer Day, an event on the BBC Internet Blog organised by myself, Nick Reynolds and Jonathan Richardson.

It was my first major contribution as a BBC employee since starting. Nick added his thoughts on his own blog here, but I thought I’d add some other thoughts in addition. I say addition as I pretty much agree with what Nick has said.

1. Video. I love video on the web — but something didn’t quite sit with our contributions. With a little while between the inception of iPlayer Day (it was planned before I arrived) and the actual day itself, I feel the luxury was a little too comfortable.

Compare it to, for example, a footballer lining up to take a shot. Often, the longer he has to tee it up, the more likely he is to fluff it. Same for cricketers who gather high catches. With so long to think about something, it is only natural to over-think — and miss.

We were caught between a rock and a hard place. Do we create video that was rough and ready, gritty, had tinny audio and wobbly-ish composition? Or do we create professionally shot ‘interviews’? In retrospect, I think we should have gone with the first option. It’s what our readers expected.

And then, of course, in an overwhelming determination to impress, I forgot the basics. Something I don’t feel I’ve done ever since I went to do an interview for our local paper without a pen.

2. Social media. Social media lovers are strange beasts, aren’t they? I should know, I am one. It’s hard to know how we would be able to harness the web 2.0 world, given that a) It’s harder for a MSM company (or corporation in this case) to appeal to the charity-style of contributions found in social media and b) There wasn’t much incentive for contributions other than mild discussion.

A day or two before the event, I believed we’d secured an incentive. A top BBC figure was going to answer Twitter questions. We were to record the clip and post it online — all within an hour.

By Thursday, for various reasons, that incentive was gone. As a result, I feel our social media input ranged from predictable (“I’m a Mac user, and I hate you”) to the nice (and appreciated) but rather mundane (“I love iPlayer!”). I’d have liked a little bite to some of the submissions — and I believe giving the opportunity to pose questions via Twitter would have been our headline moment of the day.

Above all, I feel I let myself down when it came to social media promises. In our initial brainstorm, we chucked around ideas that were exciting, and very d0-able. So far so good. But various ideas for mash-ups and interactivity were quashed by limitations. Given the chance to do all this again, I’d be far more conservative — not because I couldn’t deliver what was promised, but because in the situation they were to be placed, they weren’t deliverable. There are many reasons — but take the ability to use Google and YouTube out of the equation, and mash-ups are much more difficult.

3. Journalism or PR? I was both, I think. The thing is, it was clear from the offset that iPlayer is an immensely popular product. It has done for on-demand video what the iPod did for MP3 players. People don’t say ‘have you got an mp3 player?’ they say ‘have you got an iPod?’. There are adverts all over the Tube for audiobooks which read “Download for your iPod or MP3 player”. They are, of course the same thing. iPlayer is now in that realm.

So the battle was already won. We didn’t have to convince anybody. The teams involved in iPlayer have done extraordinarily good jobs in the past year — and so are very proud.

The by-product of all this happiness and iPlayer-lovin’, of course, is that the blog content read like reams to reams of good PR. It wasn’t intended that way — over my dead body etc — but it was hard not to be over-positive about something that has been such a roaring success.

But I still think I could have applied my journalism hat a little more. Had I been a little more cutthroat, I would have cut the beginning and the end of the video with Anthony Rose, head of online media, and just included a short clip of him talking about iPlayer 3.0. That’s what people had come to see.

The fact lots of exciting information about how iPlayer 3.0 would be social media-based has passed a lot of bloggers and journalists by — and I think the format of the video is to blame: The first six minutes or so consistent of Anthony talking generally about the service. In the video, Anthony spoke about Broadcast 1.0. Well I think the manner of the clips we used were Web 1.0. In future, I’d have much preferred to find him at his desk, ask him two questions, and upload it to the web before I’d even returned to my chair. That’s Web 2.0. That’s exciting media.

But in hindsight, we were all learning. I was learning about high-quality production values — mistakes made on Friday were flagged before I’d noticed. This isn’t something I’m used to, but something I’m feeling increasingly humbled to be a part of. Many people within the BBC were coming forward to point out mistakes. Not because they were being picky, or harsh, but because it’s their BBC too. And they’re not going to let everyone else’s hard work in maintaining the respect of the BBC be let down by me putting in a broken link.

I was learning about how the BBC is put together. Who’s in charge of what, who reports to who. Indeed, in this respect I was well and truly tied. I didn’t know who did what — and there was little time to find out.