Archive for the ‘New Zealand’ category

The benefit of hindsight: Saving New Zealand’s newspapers

February 23rd, 2009

They say hindsight is a glorious thing. When looking back, everyone can be an expert. Should have done this, shouldn’t have done that.

If you could go back in time, let’s say five years, and set out a new strategy for a failing newspaper, what would you do?

Paywall? More blogs? Less blogs? Fewer editions?

Here’s a market where you can put the benefit of hindsight into real action: New Zealand.

As Jim Tucker writes, the Kiwi press has thus far dodged the slaughter of the ever-changing media world, keeping sales generally intact.

But that’s beginning to change. Jim’s figures — from the NZ ABCs — suggest all is not well:

While the downward trend shown in Audit Bureau of Circulation figures (about 4% over the past 18 months) is steady compared to the slaughter overseas, some of the bigger players are taking heavy hits.

The biggest, the NZ Herald, has dropped 7.1% (13,622) to 177,391 in the period mid-year 2007 to December, 2008.

The other major national player, the Wellington-based Dominion Post, has also taken a hit, down 6.2% to 90,279.

But these are ’safe’ figures, rather than the industry-defining declines we’ve had to deal with in the UK. So there’s still time.

Knowing what we know now, what would you do about it?

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.

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.

Patience is key to online networking

November 20th, 2008

In the past year, I’ve had the pleasure of teaching lots of people about online journalism.

First, a guest lecture at the University of Lincoln about blogging. Then, a six week stint in New Zealand where I taught at Whitireia Journalism School.

Even more recently, again at Lincoln, I lectured a group of first year students. I was hoping I’d be able to plant a few seeds for online.

Usually after such sessions, I’ll notice a flurry of students signing up to the likes of Twitter and Wordpress etc, announcing their existence with a nice big post or tweet. This excites me — it’s good to get started as soon as you can.

But too often these people give up. I’m pretty sure it’s because they don’t get an instant return on their investment.

“Does your blog get you work?” they’ll say.
“Yes,” I’ll reply.
“Great! I’ll start one tonight!”

Problem is, many of these people will just make that one post. And, if they’re not writing the lead for tomorrow’s New York Times, they’ll swiftly give up.

I’m busy preparing some materials for my book (more on that another time! Woohoo!), and in my section about social networking tools, I plan to make it very clear that it will take time for any of these services to bring any rewards. And, indeed, even when they do, you might not necessarily know it.

What’s important, though, is that you keep at it. Use Twitter for chit-chat with colleagues or potential colleagues. Don’t turn up with a direct message to your favourite editor with something like “HI! CAN I WORK FOR YOU? THANKS!”. It won’t work.

Likewise, don’t expect the world’s media to be knocking down your door once you’ve posted a nice long introduction post on blogspot. It won’t happen. I was just contacted by a student the University of Westminster who asked how to get people in the media to read his blog. Here’s my response:

Hi XXXXX,

Cheers for getting in touch … noticed lots of people finding my site via your lecturers blog!

There are lots of things you can do. Personally, I think most effective method is to find other bloggers that write about the same things you do. For example, if you write a sports blog, then find others who do the same — same sport or same team or same competition etc.

Then, leave comments on their blog linking back to yours. Almost all blogs allow you to add your blog address when you make a comment. Chances are the blog owner will click through to your blog out of curiosity. Also, other people reading the blog will see your comment too and can also click though… and so on.

Even more effective, is finding posts by other people and discussing them, making sure you link through. For example, I wrote a post recently (http://daveleejblog.com/2008/11/time-lapse-video-of-nytimes-election-night/) that just simply linked to something else I liked.

This is a quick way to get noticed. In time (and you need to be patient), they may start linking to you… and then you’ll be getting loads of readers.

Hope that helps mate, and good luck!

It’s obvious advice for some, but if you’re faced with stats that say “10 views” each day, you may feel at a loss.

So my advice to everyone is: Take your time. Keep plugging away. Treat your online relationships like your real life ones.

You don’t go up to random people and say “Hello there would you like to be my best friend?”, do you? No, you slowly meet people, get to know them better and then who knows, they might end up being your best mate ever. But not if you rush it.

BBC Election night: Where it went wrong

November 6th, 2008

Election night was great, wasn’t it? I managed to keep up ‘til about 3am, when Ohio officially came in.

My choice of coverage was the BBC. They did a lot right. But they did a lot wrong.

Jeremy Vine is a man I love to watch — or in his normal day job, listen to — and I was hoping election night would be his time to shine. I called it a coming of age in a piece for NewsWire in New Zealand.

But it was all a bit lost. Early doors — before any results came in — we were facing problems. The producers seemed unable to isolate Dimbleby’s voice out of Vine’s ear when he was using his funky touch screen. On one occasion, Vine whipped his ear-piece out, such was the extent of Dimbleby’s waffling in his ear.

Dimbleby is as much a fixture in election coverage as Peter Snow and his swingometer. But last night he looked tired right from the word go.

Amazingly, he made the most exciting night in world politics in a generation seem rather routine. More should have been made of Pennsylvania, that’s for sure, and when the final presidency-clinching result came in? I almost expected Dimbleby to come out with a cynical “who cares” remark.

I’ve seen the effort involved in the BBC election result service being a great asset to the coverage, but there’s no avoiding the fact it was SLOW on Ohio. Fox called it way before the BBC did. Fortunately, the pundits alongside Dimbleby made the public aware that Fox are unlikely to call a battleground state as Democrat given its fiercely Republican bias. They wouldn’t risk it. But Dimbleby refused to get excited. It wasn’t over until the fat BBC sang. Sadly, the other networks were on the encore while the Beeb was still enjoying the mid-way interval.

But where the American networks triumphed, the BBC innovated, right? Maybe. Their ‘less shouting, more statistics’ approach online was a breath of fresh air. Despite my insistence that tonight was going to be the night of social media and bloggers, I soon grew tired of some of the people online getting ahead of themselves. The BBC gave results, expert comment and quality journalism from the off. Good show. Except Dimbleby who, and the Standard agrees with me here, was off the pace.

Back on the television, we had the blog team. Or rather, two geeky-looking women in Times Square transfixed on their iBooks.

Who were they? We weren’t given so much as URL to check out their stuff. And we knew, before they spoke, that they weren’t great bloggers, or else they’d be working on the election in other, more productive ways.

Had Arianna Huffington been sat there casting an eye on the ‘sphrere then we might have had a reason to listen. But these two randoms offered no insight other than the ability to Google ‘Obama+result+florida” and hope for the best.

At one point, one of the bloggers said “My inside source in Florida says McCain’s lost”. Admittedly, she was right. But then many people predicted it. Here, the blogger was playing big-time journo. Inside source? Nobody says that anymore. If you’re going to say it, back it up. On television, you can’t get away with that sort of ambiguity.

I’m not blasting the role blogs played in this election. No way. I am, of course, a promoter of all things bloggy. I even toyed, today, with making my about page say I’m a social media evangelist — such is my determination that social media is the future of news.

But the BBC got it horribly wrong. These bloggers were little more than people with computers. They let the rest of us down. If the BBC plans to take blogging seriously in its coverage of the UK elections in May, they need to get themselves involved with the big name bloggers. Guido Fawkes springs to mind, but I’d be kidding myself if I thought the Beeb would take the risk.

The viewing figures for the BBC’s coverage were huge, but I hope that doesn’t breed complacency within the team producing the UK election show in May. Just because a lot of people watch it, doesn’t mean your coverage is good. If the World Cup Final was live on one channel and one channel only, then the viewers will be riveted no matter the quality of broadcast.

Yes, British viewers had a healthy choice — but only if they had Sky/Cable. And, since this was a night of bedtime viewing, many would have been restricted to the five trusty channels on analogue telly.

So, to sum up: Must try harder.

On a more cheerful note, well done America. While the front pages of today’s papers really, really sucked (owing to the time restraints), it was a wonderful moment seeing one Evening Standard seller shout “none left” outside Liverpool Street Station tonight.

It was almost as if people had to read it in a newspaper in order to really believe it.

Selling the BBC licence fee to the public (and Terry Tibbs)

October 30th, 2008

A few media commentators have used the Brand/Ross fall out to take swipes at the BBC licence fee. I fear it’s a debate that will escalate even more now that Jonathan Ross has been suspended for 12 weeks, an admission that the presenter got it very, very wrong.

I feel I’ll struggle to show objectivity with this post, given my current career developments, but hopefully people who know me can verify that my admiration of the BBC has existed for a long time — not just in the past few weeks.

When I taught in New Zealand, I introduced the BBC website as being the greatest news organisation on earth. Several students expressed their envy at not having such a well-respected public broadcaster on their own shores.

So why do I constantly come across opinion pieces, comments and blogs rallying fiercely against the £131.50 yearly fee? Do we really believe it isn’t good value for money?

The fact that we pay the wages of both Brand and Ross seems to have added an unwelcome fuel to this current fire. Anyone resents having to pay compulsory fees for anything; even something we enjoy as much as television and radio. Surprisingly, though, millions upon millions of us think nothing of paying the fee amount three for four times over to receive Sky Sports. Ironically, if the licence fee were higher, BBC Sport would be able to compete in that arena too.

It’s not often I agree with Noel Edmonds, but a while ago he made a terrific point about the BBC licence fee. Here it is (from the Independent):

Edmonds claimed his one-man protest was against the corporation’s “we know where you are” ad campaigns against those who didn’t have a TV licence, which he argued were threatening.

Spot on my shoddy-shirt wearing friend. The TV Licensing adverts are disgusting. They’re said in the same grumped-up tone as the adverts on benefit fraud. The psychology is all wrong. The BBC shouldn’t just be telling payers that they have to pay, they should be shouting about why it’s good to pay. What am I getting? Where’s the benefit? Where does my fee go?

Fonejacker — brilliant show about, topically enough, prank calling — has a wonderful character named Terry Tibbs. Terry is your old-school business man. And, ridiculous as he is, he could have some choice words when it comes to persuading people that the licence fee is worth it. In one sketch, he says this about buying a car:

“Hang about. Look. We’re not talkin’ money jus yet. Alright? I wanna know a bit more about the car before we get into that. Come on, you gotta seduce me. You don’t just jump into bed with Terry Tibbs. You take Terry Tibbs out to lunch. You wine and dine him. You give him an oil massage, and then he gives you nineteen-fifty, if you’re lucky.”

Now while that may just be an excuse to mention Terry Tibbs in a blog post, I think if the BBC imagined Terry when pushing TV licence adverts, there’d be a lot more enthuasiasm for our public broadcaster.

Rather than: “We’ll find you.” They should be saying: “Look what you’re getting, isn’t it brilliant?”

Yesterday, I visited a friend in Norwich. While I was there, I went to the wonderful new BBC building. In it was a library, cafes, studios… loads of stuff. Around the floor, stalls sold products for charity or small business. It was packed out — on a Wednesday. It’s just one small example of the goodness an organisation like the BBC can bring.

Think of the licence fee as a tax on a nation’s intellectual well-being. We pay tax to keep our roads in order. We pay tax to keep our health service running. Personally, I think a tax that ensures knowledge, entertainment and world class journalism is just as valid. Let’s never forget how important it is.

Sure, you may not like Russell Brand. That’s fine. Millions of people, however, do like Russell Brand, making the money paid for his services justified. The same can be said for Jonathan Ross, too.

I don’t like Cash in the Attic all that much, but I don’t object to my licence fee going towards it because I know many people do.

If we can get the public to understand all the goodness that comes from the BBC licence fee, then the battle to regain faith is almost complete. The first step is some positive fee-related adverts. Seduce me.

Why I can never trust travel journalism again

October 22nd, 2008

Trust in the media is something we talk about on a grand scale. The Queen having a strop, for instance, or the uproar over You Say, We Pay on Richard and Judy.

We dissect the issue of trust when there’s been a major breach. But what of the minor ones?

I’ve long since got over the fact that some content is magazines is made up. Those sex stories in lads’ mags, for example, are not really sent in to the title. Rather, some delightfully imaginative staffer pens out some filthy fantasy.

It’s a white lie. A fib. I can deal with things like that, because they’re damn entertaining to read. Not a problem if they’re not true — I’m not relying on Nuts for tips in the bedroom, thanks.

I’m a lot more concerned about something I learned just this week. Over on a forum I frequent, a member posted a dilemma. A press trip to stay in a hotel (for reviewing purposes) was all set to go ahead. Booked it, packed it, etc. But then the magazine folded. The now angry hotel wants the journalist to pay in full anyway. The journalist explains:

“The hotel (a very swanky expensive one) offered three nights on a comp basis half board plus four nights on a media rate.

I’ve promised them I will try very hard to get something placed elsewhere BUT they have come back and said the hotel now wants to charge me the media rate for all seven nights and it’ll only be B&B.

So the stay will now cost me around £600-700 extra. Not good news.”

Not good news at all. But by far the most alarming part of those paragraphs were the words ‘media rate’.

One member shares my concern:

“I might be missing something here but how can you review a hotel when the hotel knows you’re reviewing it?”

To which comes this reply:

“I’d love to be able to review in secret but given my editors aren’t in a position to pay my expenses, the only way most of us can do travel pieces is by being hosted on press trips of one sort or another.”

Which is backed up further by another member:

“Straight hotel ‘reviews’ are pretty rare in travel journalism, really…they’re much more likely to be just mentioned in the fact box, with maybe a name check in the text for letting you stay for free. The nature of the assignments (ie. they would cost several thousand pounds to do) mean that in fact almost everything within travel journalism is paid for by someone other than the journalist.”

Thus rendering them useless, no? If hotel staff know you’re there to review the hotel, you can bet you’ll be getting preferential treatment. Quicker food, the best rooms, friendlier staff. In fact, I bet in the staff rooms they’ll have a list of which rooms have people paying ‘media rate’.

One member points out:

“I wonder how many negative reviews are written by journalists on freebies. It’s no wonder sites such as Tripadvisor are proving so useful.”

Quite. It goes back to a post made by former-Press-Gazette-now-PaidContent journalist Patrick Smith, who questioned the validity of film critics:

“A more extreme and amusing example of obscure film-blurbism Guy Ritchie’s not-awful-but-completely-bewildering Revolver (about gangsters, unsurprisingly). The film was universally panned by critics, yet huge billboards appeared around towns declaring it ”Brilliant…Guy Ritchie back to his best!”

Fair enough if that’s what you think, except that the line is from The Sun’s online film e-zine Film First which had bagged a WORLD EXCLUSIVE interview with the director, as The Guardian pointed out at the time. Private Eye established that the “brilliant!” part of the quote was from none other than The Sun’s Page 3 girl Ruth (she makes a brief appearance in the film).”

Are journalists really going to pan a hotel when they know that if they big it up, they’ll probably get another free trip again soon?

Perhaps more worrying is this scenario from another member:

“I only adored one of the hotels (one was fine but naff, and the other was fine but austere) they only used the one for the hotel I genuinely loved. I still got paid for all my work.”

So not only can we not fully trust motives behind hotel reviews, we also don’t get to see the ones that don’t get a favourable write up. Why is this? If it’s a high-profile hotel which turns out to be a complete stinker, isn’t the press in place to provide the service of warning us?

From when I was in New Zealand, I recall Jim Tucker telling me about how he went around Wellington reviewing restaurants. This wasn’t a press trip, and I’m certain Jim didn’t let them know he was there to review the food. His reviews never saw the light of day. Why? Because he dared to criticise.

We often call for high-profile journalists to declare their interests. In fact, a member of the same forum that I’ve been quoting from here has suggested we produce a national register documenting those interests. Great idea, I say. And, let’s not forget Robert Peston who is being ‘looked at’ because of some of his financial coverage. I believe we’ll find that Peston is merely a brilliant journalist and an astute financial genius, but we just don’t know how cosy he is to the people he reports on.

They’re more serious examples. But why not apply this practice to all journalists? If a hotel review has conducted with the hotel’s prior knowledge, then I think we, as readers, have a right to know this.

Regionals should get their houses in order before trying to stop others

October 21st, 2008

I don’t think it’s fair that some of the local press is getting in a strop with Sir Michael Lyon’s plans for better regional BBC content.

Read this article in today’s Times for a bit of back story:

Newspaper groups are unhappy about BBC proposals to introduce ‘hyper-local’ news websites, covering a town or county, which they believe will stifle their digital growth, at a time when their profits are crumbling in the wake of the economic downturn caused by the credit crunch. The plans, though, have to be approved by the BBC Trust, which Sir Michael heads.

That paragraph, on its own, seems to present a good point from the regionals. Why should the BBC juggernaut — and it is a juggernaut, despite its well-publicised hardships — trample on the local press with its own hyperlocal offerings?

Chief exec of Trinity Mirror, Sly Bailey, has been doing the rounds lately. She’s been here there and everywhere defending newspapers. Her interview in Press Gazette was especially interesting — but since it’s not online, nobody can read it. Figures.

She pops up again in the Times piece:

Ms Bailey accused Sir Michael of holding “outrageous views” and making “an astonishing attack on the local press” and said that “research shows consumers rate regional press as more trusted than any other media, including the BBC”.

I trust my local paper. Why would I have any reason to disbelieve that a school put on a production last week? Or that someone is now 100 years old? I’m not dismissing local press as being trivial here, but my point is that it’s a lot harder for the BBC to maintain that trust when they deal with far more complex topics.

Here’s my main criticism of Sly and co.’s argument:

If the BBC doesn’t go ahead with its hyperlocal plans, will it mean local newspaper sites will improve?

I think we all know the answer.

My two most local newspapers — The Hunts Post and Cambridge News — aren’t doing nearly enough to engage with their readers online. The Hunts Post is a great newspaper. It has a small team. Too small, I’d argue, but that’s another issue. I don’t blame them for not spending too much time interacting online, because the paper still has a very strong print audience.

But the Cambridge News? Cambridge is a city of early-adopters. I once read that, as a percentage of total population, Cambridge has more people registered on eBay than any other European city. Sorry I can’t verify that with a source, but anyone who knows the city well wouldn’t find such a statement hard to believe.

Cambridge is a home to huge centres for the likes of Microsoft. Does its newspaper reflect that? I’d argue no, not at all. Their ‘blogs’ aren’t even blogs at all. Why is there not a news blog? Or a sports blog? Or, considering Cambridge is a hub for science in the UK, why not a science blog that is written in the same style as Bad Science in the Guardian?

If the paper has a Twitter presence, it’s not publicised enough. If they’re on Facebook, they’re doing a pretty poor job at making themselves known.

Now, it’s all well and good saying what’s wrong with a site. It’s another to prove it can be done better. Well there’s proof in Matt Gooding’s Cambridge United Blog. Matt writes for the Royston Crow — another newspaper starved of any kind of progressive internet publishing. I wonder if they know they have the likes of Matt in their ranks? A waste of brilliant blogging talent.

More to the point, though, if Matt is doing his Cambridge United blog in his own spare time, for free, using tools that are available for no fee, then why isn’t the Cambridge News? They couldn’t possibly complain of budget constraints. You know, even if they just aggregated his blog. Or linked to it. Or ANYTHING that acts as a service to readers to let them know that some brilliant, opinionated writing is out there.

The moral of this whole tale, of course, is that regional press haven’t dealt with the internet. It scares them. They don’t know how it works.

A friend of mine was recently told not to mention the internet in a job interview with a regional because “the editor doesn’t like it”. The editor should be sacked this instant. When I mention this tale on Twitter yesterday, I got a load of replies saying ‘I bet it was…’. All were wrong. But it goes to show that it isn’t an isolated problem.

If I was to meet Sly Bailey tomorrow, I’d tell her to wake up. Rather than have a go at the BBC for moving with the times, why not look into providing better websites yourselves. It doesn’t cost much. The site I created for Whitireia Journalism School in Wellington, New Zealand, earlier this year proves that so much can be done with so little time, effort and money.

I’m biased, of course, but I’d say Newswire.co.nz is a far better local news site than Cambridge News. Newswire’s total cost? About £200, plus my wage. Cambridge New’s total cost? I dread to think.

What will be most telling will be the response to my criticisms. There won’t be any — except maybe from Matt Gooding and those at Newswire. Why? Because they’re in control of their online identities. The likes of the Cambridge News won’t be aware of anything I’ve said. I hope they can surprise me, I really do.

I’ve used the Cambridge News as my example, but to steal a Sarah Palin-ism, I think it’s fair to suggest that Cambridge News is a microcosm of the UK regional press.

Many regional papers would be happier if the internet didn’t exist.

But here’s the good news: There’s still time. It can still be turned around. There is enough money in the kitty, and enough readership to give any regional paper some online success. Whether they rise to the challenge or not is up to them. If they don’t they’ve only got themselves to blame.

Robert Fisk: “To hell with the web, it’s got no responsibility”

September 18th, 2008

Legendary reporter Robert Fisk recently gave a public lecture in Wellington, New Zealand, and offered some very strong personal thoughts on web journalism. Newswire reports:

“Mr Fisk said the internet had led to the erosion of quality writing.

He recalled being challenged about a quote of his that had been published on a website – although he had never said it. “But I read it on the internet,” was the response, to which Mr Fisk simply hung up.

Often “misquoted or requoted” on the internet, he is furious when people cut pieces out of what he has said or written, especially if someone uses ellipsis to indicate something has been cut from a quote, when they have actually culled 380 words.

Gordon Campbell – political editor of Scoop and host of the evening – attempted to defend the internet, taking the microphone off Mr Fisk several times to reassure the audience of the benefits of web journalism.

At one point, Mr Fisk retorted: “To hell with the web, it’s got no responsibility.”

I wonder what his problem is. I have always admired Fisk. He’s an exceptional journalist. But like so many exceptional journalists who have earned their living reporting for newspapers, I don’t think he understands what blogs actually are.

Let me ask you this: Why do we report news? To inform, yes. To educate, yes. To apply a sense of public voice… absolutely. For reporters like Robert Fisk, a blog should make him weak at the knees with excitement. If you read Reesh’s piece in full, you’ll come across this statement:

“British-born Fisk (pictured), a journalist who has lived in the Middle East for 30 years, describes as disgraceful a newspaper cutting off the bottom part of a photo of a man holding his dead daughter. By not showing the bone protruding from her leg, the newspaper got away with the caption: ‘A man carries his wounded daughter.’”

With a blog, he could have posted that picture in full.

In fact, everything Fisk claims is wrong about Middle East reporting would be solved if he posted his work on a blog as well as just in a newspaper.

Fisk’s work achieves the goal of informing and educating whoever reads it. But if we’re looking at ABC figures, that puts it at 235,289 on average per day. That’s a very small percentage of a small country.

I say if we, as journalists, are to really do our job as the world’s mouthpiece, then Fisk needs to embrace the web, before the web consumes him.

J-school debate: The best route to success?

September 3rd, 2008

What is the best way to train as a journalist? The debate is raging over on Mindy McAdams’ blog.

It’s widely accepted there are two main ways of getting into journalism. Route 1: A degree course of three years or more. Route 2: A trade school (or polytech if you’re in NZ. Or in the UK, this would be a college, I guess) for a year or so.

The third and so far unmentioned route is the ‘go it alone’ vision. It’s no secret that the world’s best journalists have landed via this method, but I’ll be discarding this one. Argue if you must.

The question is, then, which route is best?

I’m in the lucky position to have experienced both. I studied a degree in journalism at the University of Lincoln until this year (I graduate next week, expect a photo or ten!), and I also taught on a trade school course, out in New Zealand, at Whitireia Community Polytech.

The key difference here, I don’t really need to add, is that I was on opposite sides of the learning experience in Lincoln and Wellington.

I was lucky enough (honestly, it was a great debate) to enjoy this argument in real life over dinner with Jim Tucker and Martin Hirst.

On one side of the table, Martin defended degree courses. Three years at AUT, he said, not only gave you hands-on skills, but also the journalistic mind.

Jim’s course, however, was an intense practical endeavour. Students are journalists from pretty much day one.

At the time, I sided with Jim. Although I’d spent three years of my life at uni, not to mention a load of my own and my family’s money, I came to a conclusion that a trade school is the way to go. The course had one goal: to produce journalists.

You could argue — unfairly perhaps — that the trade school approach has somewhat of a production line feel to it. What they produce is journalists based on the designs of journalists gone by. Where a trade school lacks, I believe, is in creating thinkers.

Why are we doing this? Where did it come from? What will it become? — all questions that are rooted in studying ethics and history in detail.

During that dinner, Martin made the point that I could only make such observations about the two courses and their use in the world because I’d be lucky enough to have enjoyed both.

And let’s not forget that my position in NZ came about from this very blog. Would I have been discussing journalism in this way had it not been for my university education? I’m not sure.

But still, I put contacts, skills and value-for-money over all of that. And so still the trade school was winning.

I thought back to my uni life. I founded and edited a newspaper. I had a radio show. In fact, I dipped my finger in every available journalistic pie going. There are opportunities that can only be created by universities because of one simple reason: budget.

But that budget has it’s own unique cost. Universities are determined to fill their lecture theatres. I know Lincoln certainly was.

I’ve no doubt that universities have terrific journalism tutors, but what value is a tutor of any quality when they have over 100 students to serve? It’s impossibl to do it well.

With the small, trade school-sized classes of 20 or so, a tutor can really gain good rapport with all of them. At Whitireia, Jim and I would be thinking about stories that were coming in. “Ah, xxxxxx would be good for that story,” we’d often say. We knew our students. We knew their personalities. We knew that Dave plays golf at the weekend. We knew that Jono loved rugby — and that his girlfriend was a hairdresser.

Isn’t that how newsrooms work? Isn’t that how JOURNALISTS work?

There are two sides to this coin.

On one hand you have the might of university. The prestige, the money, the time and resources to really learn your subject. Whitireia could never, for example, install a great big radio studio like Lincoln did while I was there. The money just wouldn’t be there for it.

But on the other hand you have trade courses that involve little time-wasting, less money (let’s not forget: journalists shouldn’t just be those who have enough money to study away from home at university) and — from my experience at least — better 1-on-1 teaching.

When a j-school is small, it can swiftly adapt to new ideas. Take Whitireia’s NewsWire website. Designed, implemented and live within four weeks. The amount of ‘you beat us to it!’ comments we received when we went live tells you all you need to know about the speed in which a university curriculum can evolve.

“We’re going to do this, we’re going to do that.” I hear it everywhere. I heard it in NZ, I hear it in the UK. Well if I was a journalism student I wouldn’t give two hoots about what you’re going to do. I want to go somewhere where it’s happening already.

And although I feel bad in criticising my own education here, I don’t think universities provide the best source of learning for journalists. Not by a long way.