The Polk awards have been ahead of the game in recent years. Two of its recent honorees, notably, have recognized that journalism has moved squarely into the Digital Age, even though most of the kinds of journalism achievements that win big prizes -- notably investigative reports -- continue to be done by organizations willing to spend serious money and devote serious time to the efforts.

The first pathbreaker, which falls into the category of organization-based media that happens to live on the web, went to Josh Marshall and his team at Talking Points Memo in 2007. The one making waves this year, and the more relevant here, went to the still-anonymous person who captured the video images of the death Neda Agha-Soltan in the Iranian election protests early last year.

Darnton, interviewed by Mediaite, an online publication, offered left-handed compliments to the Neda video -- making it entirely clear that he doesn't really believe average people (as opposed to journalists with years of experience) have much to offer beyond bystander status. From the column by Willard C. Rappleye Jr.:

"(Darnton) does take umbrage, though, against the term 'citizen journalist.' 'If you're walking down the street and somebody collapses in front of you and somebody else runs over and administers CPR because they happen to know it, and saves the victim, you wouldn't go home and say you saw somebody saved by a citizen doctor. You'd say you saw someone saved by a bystander who happened to know CPR. Right? 'Same thing here. I like to call them bystanders -- not journalists. Just good bystanders.'"

He clearly does not understand -- or if he does, he deeply regrets -- that journalism is no longer the province of the people like himself, who rose on well-defined career tracks through a business that was comprised mostly of big monopoly organizations or a few members of an oligopoly -- businesses that achieved their economic power due to conditions that no longer apply.

He does not get that journalism is an ecosystem, and that it is becoming more diverse over time.

The regular people who capture important videos and pictures -- or who blog authoritatively what they've seen, etc. -- are not journalists. But they have committed acts of journalism, profoundly important acts of journalism. That is their role -- or more accurately one of their roles -- in the ecosystem, and it's becoming at least as important as any other role, including the one played by the people who do it for a living or for a few freelance dollars.

Just as reporter shield laws (assuming we should have them) should protect journalism, not the people who are accredited or licensed to be journalists, in these awards -- and in everyday life -- it is the act of journalism we should be celebrating.

Darnton's instincts are sound. And his wish to recognize the values of great journalism is absolutely correct. But I hope he'll expand his field of vision. And I hope he'll join those of us who are working on ways to help those people he relegates to bystander roles become even more active and knowledgeable participants in the journalism sphere.

Citizens who commit acts of journalism -- instead of semi-sneers, they deserve our support in every possible way.

(Cross posted from Mediactive)

This week, the commission held a two-day workshop entitled How Will Journalism Survive the Internet Age? -- the purpose of which is "to explore how the Internet has affected journalism."

There's been lots of blogging, Tweeting and journalizing about it. Some people think it was a valuable exercise. I question that, especially the FTC chairman's announcement that the situation might well call for government intervention.

The event came under the FTC's Office of Policy Planning. Here's its mission:

The Office of Policy Planning assists the Commission to develop and implement long-range competition and consumer protection policy initiatives and advises staff on cases raising new or complex policy and legal issues.

One of the Office of Policy Planning's primary roles involves competition advocacy, submitting filings supporting competition principles to state legislatures, regulatory boards, and officials; state and federal courts; other federal agencies; and professional organizations. The Office also organizes public workshops and issues reports on cutting-edge competition and consumer protection topics, addressing questions of substantive antitrust law, industry-specific practices, and significant national and international policy debates.

In addition to the Office of Policy Planning, several offices throughout the Commission, including the Bureau of Competition's Office of Policy and Coordination and the Policy Studies unit within the Office of the General Counsel, also provide policy advice.

Ah, we learn more in a Federal Register Notice (also PDF-only, naturally). The notice observes, in a promising start, that the Internet has created unparalleled possibilities.

The commission could have stopped there, and not bothered to hold the workshop. It could have recognized that we're in the early days of a transition from one set of business models (most of which have not been very competitive) to an emerging, hyper-competitive sphere. There's never been more reason for optimism than there is today, given the massive amount of journalistic and business experimentation going on all around us.

But the commission staff and many speakers found much to fret about, spurred in large part by the incessant whining of the newspaper industry in recent times. (Could it also have been influenced by the fact that the FTC chairman is married to a Washington Post opinion writer? No, this obviously had absolutely no bearing on anything.) The commission has discovered that the advertising model which once supported many kinds of journalism has eroded. Quoting several economists, the workshop notice says "public affairs reporting may indeed be particularly subject to market failure."

Market failure? What about the market failure -- which as far as I can tell never got any attention from a succession of FTC people during the past half-century -- of the monopolies and oligopolies created by media organizations during that period? The public affairs journalism was, for the most part, a modest spinoff of the extortionate advertising prices they charged when they had near-absolute market power to charge anything they wished. Only when there's real competition does the FTC get interested.

The commission, inevitably, is asking for opinions on whether federal taxpayers should subsidize journalism more directly than the indirect subsidies of low postal rates for print; giveaways of publicly owned airwaves (spectrum) to broadcasters; the odious "Newspaper Preservation Act" granting partial antitrust immunity to community newspapers, etc. (Believe it or not, meanwhile, the commission is asking if Congress should give journalism-related businesses even more antitrust immunity. Good grief.)

There's only one subsidy that makes sense, only one that wouldn't put government meddling squarely into the practice of journalism, an inevitable result of the direct subsidies being pushed by well-meaning but misguided media thinkers. It's not on the agenda, however.

As noted, taxpayer-assisted infrastructure -- especially the postal system and low rates for sending publications -- helped create the newspaper business, and enabled a lot of other commerce. Bring forward that logic to high-speed Internet access for all Americans, and enable the 21st Century communications infrastructure for all competitors.

As it is, we're moving toward a market failure of frightening proportions, as the telecom industry clamps down, or threatens to, on people's ability to use Internet connections as they see fit. We're moving toward a media business consolidation that would terrify make any real champion of open markets: a cable-phone duopoly. Maybe the FTC could poke its nose into the truly scary potential of the just-announced Comcast buyout of NBC Universal? That would actually be useful.

The Federal Communications Commission has jurisdiction over telecom, and is looking at the issue. But when it comes to how journalism will thrive in (not just survive) the Internet age, this should be high on any list of competitive issues of interest to agencies that push for competitive markets.

The word "broadband" was nowhere to be found in the FTC's planning document. Coming from an agency that says it wants to promote competition, that spoke volumes.

(Cross-posted, with updates,from Mediactive.)

A few months ago Pierre and Randy Ching founded Peer News. Their first project was a Twitter-related experiment called Ginx, which didn't get critical mass and is being closed.

Now they've announced Peer News' more important move -- a project aimed at creating the kind of local journalism that brings accountability and value to a community.

Pierre, in a note on the company blog, says he and his team are launching -- they aim for early 2010 -- based on deep research: "talking to a lot of people in the industry about journalism and how we might be able to have an impact, listening and learning as much as we can."

I'm one of the people Pierre has talked with, but I'm not privy to the details of the new venture. In a conversation last evening, he did say this will be service combining professional journalists and citizen journalists in "a commercial model that hasn't been tried yet."

Tantalizing, no? Let's focus for a second on the word "commercial," because Pierre and team are going for something that seems to have fallen somewhat out of favor for local news startups, the notion that they can and should be profitable. Not-for-profits are springing up in various places, and while Pierre is happy to see them he also believes it's essential to find solid for-profit models for sustainable media.

One message is for the local newspapers: Watch out. Pierre has analyzed the Hawaii media market and sees enough advertising money is going toward journalism in Honolulu "to fund a high quality operation" -- but clearly not the kind that dominates the revenue stream today, namely the local newspapers.

Peer News will operate in the leanest possible way compatible with doing solid journalism and community information. It will involve social media in a big way as well. (The Omidyar Network, the investing and charitable arm of Pierre and his wife, Pam, has been deep into socially valuable media for a long time. Count on them bringing what they've learned into Peer News.)

Plainly, the Hawaii launch is a test bed, in part. If it works, expect more local versions in other places.

Peer News is looking for a founding editor. My advice has been to find someone local, if at all possible, but especially to find someone excellent. If you're interested, here's where you can find out more.

One of the people who'll be talking to editorial candidates is Howard Weaver, a former vice president of news at McClatchy. Howard has been consulting with Peer News and offers some perspective on his own blog, including this:

I'm interested for a lot of reasons, but I'd sum it up this way: the new venture intends to demonstrate that a digitally native, technologically fluent web organization can profitably serve targeted readers who want sophisticated journalism focused on local civic affairs.

So I'm looking forward to following the progress of Peer News. So should anyone who's interested in the future of journalism.

(Note: The Omidyar Network was a seed funder of my long-ago Grassroots Media (Bayosphere) project. It lost money. Cross-posted from Mediactive.)

They should get over it. But they and their gifted-amateur and part-timer peers -- especially the ones capturing breaking news events -- should start agitating for some better marketplaces than the ones available today. More on that below, but first some background:

The marketplace for photography in the Internet era has changed irrevocably. In 2006, I argued that the professionals who will feel the pain most in the short run are the folks who shoot spot-news pictures. I said, in part:

They can't possibly compete in the media-sphere of the future. We're entering a world of ubiquitous media creation and access. When the tools of creation and access are so profoundly democratized, and when updated business models connect the best creators with potential customers, many if not most of the pros will fight a losing battle to save their careers.

This was bad news for them, I acknowledged, but not for the rest of us -- because someone with a camera (probably part of a phone) almost always would be in a position to capture relevant still photos and/or, increasingly, videos of newsworthy events. We'd have more valuable pictures, not less, and production values would take second place to authenticity and timeliness.

I also said that staff feature photographers were in less trouble. The Time cover suggests that I was premature in that assessment, though I do believe that great artists will always have a market for their work.

The rub, as anyone who spends any serious time on Flickr already knows, is that amateur photographers are doing incredible work. Few of them can match the consistent quality of what the pros do, but they don't have to. Every one of us is capable of capturing one supremely memorable image. Whatever you're looking for, you can find it on Flickr or other photo sites including the stock-photos service where Robert Lam listed the picture that ended up on Time's cover. Lam said that he was paid $30 for the photo, according to this conversation thread on the Model Mayhem photo community site, which includes some strenuous objections from pro photographers.

It does strike me as absurd that a huge magazine with huge circulation can get an image like Lam's for so little money. But that was his choice, and it was Time's choice to take advantage of the low price he was asking.

Just as some people gladly take the New York Times' absurdly low pay when their freelance articles make it into the paper's news and op-ed pages, some photographers gladly sell their work for peanuts to Time. They have their own reasons, which can range from getting valuable exposure -- so they can (try to) charge more for subsequent work -- to not needing the money staffers and more famous people can demand.

This gets trickier, it seems to me, when it comes to breaking news, where news organizations derive enormous benefits from having the right image or video at the right time and too frequently get it for less than peanuts. Indeed, practically every news organization now invites its audience to submit pictures and videos, in return for which the submitters typically get zip.

Which is why we need a more robust marketplace than any I've seen so far -- namely a real-time auction system.

The sites currently promoting citizen journalists' work don't offer anything of this sort, as far as I can tell. This isn't to say I don't like those sites, which include NowPublic and Demotix, because I like them a great deal. But someone needs to go further.

How would a real-time auction system work? The flow, I'd imagine, would go like this:

Photographer captures breaking news event on video or audio, and posts the work to the auction site. Potential buyers, especially media companies, get to see watermarked thumbnails and then start bidding. A time limit is enforced in each case. The winning bid goes to the journalist, minus a cut to the auction service.

The premium, then, would be on timeliness and authenticity. One or two images/videos would be likely to command relatively high prices, and everything else would be worth considerably less.

Eventually, someone will do this kind of business -- which could also be useful for eyewitness text accounts of events. For the sake of the citizen journalists who are not getting what they deserve for their work, I hope it's sooner rather than later.

(Cross-posted from Mediactive)

For more on Demotix and citizen photo agencies, check out this article from MediaShift by Mark Glaser.

A breaking-news example is the ugly case of Lori Drew, in which a federal judge is in the process of rescuing us from a prosecutor whose legal theories would have created criminals of just about everyone who ever signed up for just about anything online. The judge said last week he's overturning a jury verdict that prosecutors won by abusing the law while appealing to emotion.

The case is ugly not only because of the law-enforcement overreach, however. It started that way because of Drew's actions. She was a ringleader in a cruel online hoax against a teenaged girl in Missouri, Megan Meier, that may well have contributed to the girl's suicide. (See the Citizen Media Law Project's compendium for details.)

Boiling it down, Drew, whose daughter was fighting with Meier, and several others created a bogus MySpace account for a fictitious teenaged boy who wooed and then rejected Meier. It was a heartless act, and Drew and her helpers deserve at least contempt if not a civil lawsuit.

Using Hacking Law

Officials in Missouri had no cause for criminal action, however. But federal prosecutors hauled Drew off to Los Angeles and tried her for violating a federal law, the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act (CFAA), which had been used in the past to go after hackers who'd plundered others' computers for financial gain. Using a computer, prosecutors said, Drew had:

intentionally accessed and caused to be accessed a computer used in interstate commerce, namely, the MySpace servers located in Los Angeles County, California, within the Central District of California, without authorization and in excess of authorized access, and, by means of interstate commerce obtained and caused to be obtained information from that computer to further tortious acts, namely intentional infliction of emotional distress on [Meier].

As the Citizen Media Law Project reiterated last week, Drew's alleged crime was, boiled down to the actual law as opposed to the emotional element of the case, "nothing other than failing to submit 'truthful and accurate' registration information when creating a MySpace profile. She would have been no less liable for misstating her height."

Think about this. Is there anyone using online registration systems who has always, without exception, given utterly accurate information? As the judge explained in his ruling, allowing Drew's verdict to stand would make everyone who's ever violated a terms of service, no matter how minor the violation, guilty of a crime as well.

The prosecutor, Thomas P. O'Brien, didn't care. As Wired News reported, he was proud of himself. Sure, he said, using the CFAA was "a risk," but his office "will always take risks on behalf of children."

The larger risk was, in fact, to liberty. O'Brien's willingness to twist a law to serve even a well-meaning end deserves contempt, not praise, because he's supposed to know better.

So, one might imagine, would a member of Congress. One would be wrong. Rep. Linda Sanchez, a California Democrat, has praised O'Brien for his overreach even as she urges passage of her federal legislation against "cyberbullying" -- a bill that could looks like a dramatic overreach of its own.

Make no mistake. What Drew did was despicable. But what the federal prosecutor did was, in its own way, just as bad.

The Huffington Post is creating tomorrow's business model for journalism! Or not...

Northwestern University's "computer nerds" will save journalism! Really?

Ultra-cheap netbooks could save the media industry! Umm...

Journalism Online LLC will save newspapers (!) by helping them charge for what they've been essentially giving away for 50 years. Could be.

The iPhone will revolutionize mobile journalism! Or not.

The recent panic over the demise of newspapers has led to a predictable flurry of omigod, now-what speculation. We're being treated to one hype-filled piece after another about this or that startup or project that has the potential to save, revolutionize or do something really, really special to move us into the future of news and information.

Let's take a deep breath, calm down and understand what's going on here. There's no way of knowing which of these worthy enterprises, products and projects -- and hundreds or thousands more like them that already exist or will soon -- will be around in a decade. The fact of their existence is what's exciting, not their individual prospects.

We've become accustomed to a media world dominated by monopolies and oligopolies. So we -- and especially the paid journalists who remain in the craft -- tend to imagine that just a few big institutions will rise from the sad rubble of the journalism business.

That's not where it's going, at least not anytime soon. We're heading into an incredibly messy but also wonderful period of innovation and experimentation that combines technology and people and pushes great and outlandish ideas into the real world. The result will a huge number of failures but also a large number of successes.

This is why I've grown more and more certain that we will not lack for a supply of quality news and information. This comes with two caveats. First, we need a solid supply of people who are willing to take some responsibility for getting quality news and information. Second, we can't let government and/or big media take away the freedoms we now have to experiment.

Meanwhile, the next time you see or hear a story about this or that magic wand that someone is waving to save journalism, appreciate the entrepreneurial or technical or journalistic imagination that its founders have shown. But consider it just one small step along a long, long road to our future.

(Cross-posted from Mediactive)

At least, as we know it. 

Legacy media is on a serious decline.  It's hard to argue with the numbers. The often named champions of web 2.0 - Google, Facebook, Twitter - these tools didn't destroy the foundation of a business model which supported journalism and promoted a free, democratic, and open society for decades.  Instead, the real culprit is a fundamental shift in how society communicates, collaborates, and disseminates information. 

The Internet is no longer a network of connections, linking various documents.  Web 2.0 brought about a revolution in content creation, granting the ability of self-publishing to anyone with an Internet browser.  Lines between consumer and producer blur at an ever-increasing speed.  And as web 3.0 looms ominously on the proverbial horizon, these trends will multiply exponetially.

The Internet is evolving into a cloud of knowledge and data.  Content independent of format.  This precludes the possibility of a more widespread decline of the stand-alone website as an end-user experience.  With RSS, XML, RDF, and a myriad of other formats available for users to build their own media experience, the Web is atomizing into a sea of data, rewritable and reusable in any way one sees fit.

These trends confuse more than just journalists.

Journalism's fatal mistake may lie in depending on selling eyeballs to advertisers.  At least, ad revenue is the problem surfacing to the top of the list of declines legacy media faces.  Despite some signs of life in the internet advertising market, the advent of more precise, dynamic metrics measuring clicks, page-views and engagement times has exposed the little secret journalism milked for years: advertising is not as effective as people thought.  Huge cost structures built on basic assumptions of cost per thousand models have become outmoded.  At this point in time, and for the near future, they simply cannot support the vast organizations of legacy media.

These models appear to be drawing their last breaths.

Picking through the corpses

But there is hope

A new breed of journalism

There is no panacea

Reinvest

Own the technology

Multiple revenue streams

This Flickr map has more than 120 photos, taken by me and Arizona State University journalism students Chris Cameron, Adriane Goetz, Travis Grabow, Chrystall Kanyuck, Bailey MOsier, Elizabeth Shell and Evan Wyloge. We chose, for this experiment, last week's Phoenix "First Friday Art Walk" -- a monthly, self-guided tour of a downtown-Phoenix district that contains a number of galleries and craft-oriented shops.

Putting this together was absurdly simple: We combined the capabilities of the Google/T-Mobile G1 smart-phones and services provided by the photo-sharing site Flickr. (Note: Google provided us with the phones and its carrier partner, T-Mobile, gave us airtime.)

The G1s are the first in a line of what Google hopes will be lots of devices using the Android operating system, which is considerably more open than Apple's iPhone and has, in my view, roughly equal potential. The G1s contain, among many other capabilities, digital cameras and GPS (global satellite positioning  radios that tell location within a few meters).

Each of us shot a dozen or so pictures at various places along the Art Walk streets. After snapping each picture, we sent it by email to a special address at Flickr, using the name of the gallery or other location as the subject line and adding some body text to describe what we were looking at.

Embedded in the JPEG photo files created by the G1s is a critically valuable bunch of zeroes and ones: the location as determined by the GPS. Flickr reads that location data as it imports the picture files, and then places the images autormatically on a map.

In other words, the map was being created in real time, as we walked the streets and snapped the photos.

Now, this is not a new idea by any means. And we could have done a much better display of the pictures with a bit more time; Flickr's mapping display to the general public is very crude compared with what it could do (the image above, much better than the one you'll see if you click this public link, is available to the account holder of the map, but not to other people) Moreover, sending pictures via email was a crude way to handle the images; there are applications for the iPhone and Nokia's GPS-equipped phones that upload to Flickr much more efficiently than anything written so far for the G1.

Still, it was trivially simple to set this up and make it work, using tools that already exist and are, for the most part, easy to use. We'll be doing much more with the G1s over time (including, I hope, creating applications that more fully explore the devices' potential).

The point is that some events take place over time and space, and are made to order for this kind of treatment. Journalists are actually quite late to the party. Flickr and other sites are displaying crowd-sourced such events via user-created tags.

We're planning to open up this page to others in the Phoenix community, so that over time people create a rich photo set of First Friday. We'll help people sort by dates, not just location, so that we can see how the monthly event changes over time, too.

We are planning a series of other experiments with these phones (and others), and would be grateful for ideas on how we might take best advantage of these incredible devices. Our goal is simple: testing ideas that will help create valuable community information resources and services.

Perhaps he was playing to his audience, at least to a degree. Many other kinds of undergraduate degree programs could lay claim to a similar bragging rights; a strong liberal arts degree, no matter what the major, has great value. Still, there's no doubt that a journalism degree, done right, is an excellent foundation for a student's future.

Even if McNeil overstated the case, however, his words should inspire journalism educators to ponder their role in a world where these programs' traditional reason for being is increasingly murky.

Our raison d'etre is open to question largely because the employment pipeline of the past, a progression leading from school to jobs in media and related industries, is (at best) in jeopardy. Yet journalism education could and should have a long and even prosperous life ahead -- if its practitioners make some fundamental shifts.

Some of the shifts are already under way, especially in how journalism educators do their jobs. The Cronkite School, where I'm teaching, is one of many journalism programs aiming to be part of the 21st Century. The school understands at its core that digital technology has transformed the practice, though we hope not the principles, of the craft. This is welcome, if overdue; if newspapers have adapted fitfully to the collision of technology and media, journalism schools as a group may have been even slower.

But that recognition, while valuable, isn't nearly enough. Journalism educators should be in the vanguard of an absolutely essential shift for society at large: helping our students, and people in our larger communities, to navigate and manage the myriad information streams of a media-saturated world.

We need to help them understand why they need to become activists as consumers -- by taking more responsibility for the quality of what they consume, in large part by becoming more critical thinkers. And they need to understand their emerging role as creators of media.

In both cases, as consumers and creators, we start with principles.

For media consumers:

(See this recent paper, part of the Media Re:public project at Harvard's Berkman Center for Internet & Society, where I'm a Fellow, for a fairly lengthy description of the principles and an explanation of why I believe they're important.)

The principles underpin everything I believe about modern media consumption in general -- entertainment being the major exception -- and journalism in particular. Especially for the creators of media, they add up to being honorable.

If the principles are the foundation, the practices and tactics are an evolving superstructure. Journalism education needs to deal with both.

This applies not just to students studying the practice of journalism. The same issues are roiling public relations and advertising, the teaching of which is often housed in schools of journalism and communications. Not surprisingly, because modern commerce has been so much about selling things, those industries have been considerably more innovative, in the professional ranks, than journalism in recent years. Key leaders in advertising and PR are surely making their needs clear to educators, and one suspects getting results.

As noted above, journalism schools are starting to embrace digital technologies in their work with students who plan to enter traditional media. Too few are helping students understand that they may well have to invent their own jobs, however, much less helping them do so.

Still, the experiments are growing in number, in scope and in potential. What's more, they're involving not just newcomers to the journalism education ranks, but faculty members who've been on the job for some time. The News21 Initiative, funded by two major foundations, is an example. We're working on entrepreneurship as a core mission, and so is Jeff Jarvis at City University of New York, among others. Rich Gordon at Northwestern University's Medill School is helping computer science students understand the value of journalism, and how they can help create tomorrow's version. And so on.

But I keep coming back to the issue(s) that should trouble anyone who cares about the future of self-governed societies. We're not turning out the critical thinkers we need in a time when that skill has never been so important, particularly when the avalanche of data -- some of it bogus and much of it irrelevant -- has never been so difficult to handle.

One experiment, at State University of New York's Stony Book campus, is notable. Howard Schneider is leading another foundation-funded program (so many of these are, raising an interesting question that I won't go into here) that aims to make better news consumers and critical thinkers of all students, not just those enrolled in journalism courses. This goes only part of the way to what I'd like to see in journalism education, but it's a very useful start.

Where would I take it, if I ran a journalism school? I'd start, again, with the principles listed above, and rework the how-to part of the curriculum to be more digital (that is, media-agnostic) and entrepreneurially focused.

I'd also direct the alumni relations director to find out who attended the journalism program and then went onto great things in non-journalistic fields. To the extent that McNeil is correct about our offering such a useful program for students of all kinds, surely we'll find plenty of accomplished graduates in other professions and crafts. Take a look at the Cronkite School's "Alumni Hall of Fame" -- a listing, begun in 1993, largely comprised of former students who are now employed by traditional media organizations. They are all worthy honorees. Sixteen years from now, I hope, this list will offer a much broader cross-section of affiliations.

Then, tackling the media activism challenge, my colleagues and I would:

• Persuade the president of the university that every student on the campus should learn them before graduating, preferably during freshman year.
• Create a program for people in the community, starting with teachers. We should be seeing every student take a basic media activist course at every level of education -- not just college, but also grade, middle, and high school.
  
• Offer that program to concerned parents who feel overwhelmed by the media deluge themselves. Children especially need to learn to be independent thinkers and not take for granted that what they see, hear, or read is necessarily true or real.
• Provide for-fee training to communicators who work in major local institutions, such as PR and marketing folks from private companies, governmental organizations and others. If they could be persuaded that the principles matter, they might offer the public less BS and more reality, and they'd be better off for the exercise.
  
• Try to enlist another vital player in this effort: local media. The traditional journalism organizations should be making this a core part of their missions, but haven't yet realized why, namely that their own trust in the community would almost certainly rise if they helped people understand these principles -- not to mention the enormous value of truly engaging the audience in the journalism itself. New media entrants would benefit, too, if they embraced the principles of media activism to produce higher quality work and deepen their own conversations with their communities of geography and interest.
  

Community efforts would, of course, include training of citizen journalists to understand and apply the principles and best practices, and helping new entrants in local media find business models. Sometimes the business models will be for-profit; others will be not-for-profit.

That will likely mean partnering with other parts of campuses -- business schools, engineering/computer science, design and more -- to be an essential community-wide resource for the future of local media. Ambitious? Sure, but imagine what we could all accomplish.

All this suggests a considerably broader mission for journalism schools and programs than the one they've had in the past. We're not the only ones who can do this, but we may be among the best equipped. If we don't, someone else will.

(Many of the projects cited are funded, wholly or in part, by the Knight Foundation, funder of this blog and the work of people who are making these postings.)

"The basis of our governments being the opinion of the people, the very first object should be to keep that right," Thomas Jefferson wrote in January 1787. "And were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate to prefer the latter."

Today, we are dangerously close to having a government without newspapers. American newspapers shoulder the burden of considerable indebtedness with little cash on hand, as their profit margins have diminished or disappeared. Readers turn increasingly to the Internet for information -- even though the Internet has the potential to be, in the words of the chief executive of Google, Eric Schmidt, "a cesspool" of false information. If Jefferson was right that a well-informed citizenry is the foundation of our democracy, then newspapers must be saved.

The piece drew plenty of other attention from journalists and industry watchers including an interesting question from the Nieman Journalism Lab's Zachary M. Seward, who wondered how much it would cost "to sustain every American newspaper in perpetuity as non-profit organizations" -- and, after consulting with Alan Mutter came up with a guesstimate of $114 billion. Cough.

This is to save only the editorial staff, mind you. Journalists have an unfortunate habit of forgetting that other people also work in their organizations; and the logic here is that what we want to preserve is the jobs of the journalists who report the news -- never mind that the people who still buy newspapers don't do so entirely because of what fills the news columns, but also to see the ads and non-news features.

Seward reasonably points out that we'd be foolish to endow the newspaper industry as it currently exists. When I look at most local newspapers these days I see skeletons: businesses that have been systematically looted over the years, to send money to far-off corporate headquarters to pay fat executive salaries and boost stock prices. Preserve them? Why would we want to do that?

We're unquestionably losing something important as the newspaper business model implodes. As a shareholder in three of those companies I'm unhappy about it, but I'm also not going to suggest that I blindly invested. Over the years I've made much, much more on my newspaper shares than I would lose now even if all of them (not a chance) were to fail tomorrow.

But we're already seeing some models for the future emerge. One, just one, is nonprofit.

The idea that philanthropists should get into the community information business is not new, nor bad. It's come up a number of times, most recently with the Knight Foundation's funding support, along with community foundations, of local initiatives.

And not-for-profit media is hardly new. PBS, NPR and many other organizations don't aim to make profits. But nonprofits are enterprises, too. They require business models as much as any for-profit enterprise.

Nonprofits generally exist, meanwhile, to ameliorate failures in the for-profit marketplace. Markets do fail, and they do so frequently. (I'm not talking here about the financial meltdown we're experiencing, which is all about society's failures in a much wider way.) Bill Gates' worthy philanthropic efforts to rid the planet of diseases that aren't profitable for the medical industry speaks specifically to this issue, as do countless other such enterprises.

The market failure most notable in the newspaper business of the past half-century was felt not by the journalists but by the buyers and sellers of products and services in communities. This was due to newspapers' monopoly status, leading them to extract outrageously high profits from advertisers who essentially had no alternatives. Ask anyone who used the classifieds before eBay and craigslist and other better, cheaper competition came along -- they'll tell you what a failed marketplace looks like.

That era was good for the editorial staffs, which enjoyed long-term, stable employment and, in many cases, some distance from advertiser influence over the contents of the news pages. However excellent the journalists were, however -- and many were truly superb -- this was not a climate that bred risk-taking and innovation beyond imagining how to be better reporters. Improving the journalism was a great thing; but becoming conservative in other ways was not.

We're seeing an explosion of innovation now. Some of it is coming from inside news organizations. But the majority is, from my perspective, coming from outside, from people inventing or adapting business models as well as journalism and information techniques.

Do we need funding sources for these new and adaptive projects? You bet. Some has already been committed or is in the pipeline now. It's not enough, but it's a start.

I'll wager, with little fear of losing, that a great deal of the community information we'll get in a few years will come from for-profit sources. But that will still leave vast territories for two other models: volunteers and nonprofits. Sometimes these will overlap.

The most essential role for nonprofits is almost certainly going to be in addressing the new market failure. This is the category I call "eat your spinach journalism," the reporting that we all agree we need but which requires money and time to do. Certain kinds of investigations and watchdog reporting, including such basics as keeping an eye on what the City Council and local/state agencies are up to, may not support for-profit ventures, and we'll desperately need other sources of funding for those.

That the New York Times used its valuable op-ed space to showcase such shallow thinking by the Yale financial guys is depressing. At least their essay sparked some conversation. But please, let's move onto realistic possibilities.

Entries for journalism awards must be based
on material coming from a text-based United
States newspaper or news organization that
publishes--in print or online--at least
weekly during the calendar year; that is
primarily dedicated to original news
reporting and coverage of ongoing stories;
and that adheres to the highest journalistic
principles. Printed magazines and
broadcast media, and their respective Web
sites, are not eligible.

But let's also recognize that these new rules don't begin to address the more fundamental issues about how journalism is changing. Excluding text-based journalism by magazines and broadcast media, for example, is illogical.

The release of the new rules -- which are bound to evolve -- frees me from an agreement of confidentiality I made earlier this year when asked by the Pulitzer Prize Board to answer some questions and offer my own suggestions about how the prizes should recognize changes in technology and journalistic practices. Here is what I (presumably among many others the board consulted) suggested:

You asked me to think broadly about the prizes, and asked five questions. Before I respond to each of them directly, let me offer a few general thoughts. None of these will surprise you, but they add up to a challenge unlike any the Pulitzer board has faced in the past.

First, is the central issue: convergence. Media of all kinds are becoming digital. Moreover, media availability and distribution are moving onto networks where the data is broken up into little packets at the source and reassembled at the other end.

Second, the blurring of media forms is accelerating. It will be impossible in the relatively near future to distinguish among them.

Third, the business model for newspapers is failing. It's not just about the movement of advertising to better online ad operations. It's also the surging price of doing business as a manufacturing operation, including energy costs.

Under the current rules, these facts are a recipe for making the Pulitzers irrelevant, or at best quaint. I would hate to see that happen, because the Pulitzer Prizes matter. They are a touchstone of excellence. Like many others in the field, I believe they're flawed in their current incarnation, but I would hate to see them become an artifact.

My bullet-point advice (assumes the board's ability to interpret the bylaws in the broadest possible way):

1. Embrace reality. This will only seem radical to newspaper people.

2. Celebrate great journalism wherever it comes from. This includes digital-only, and probably should include English-language reporting that didn't originate in the United States.

3. Create new categories that reflect the way we create and consume media over the long term.

Now to your questions:

Q: In creating the Prizes, Joseph Pulitzer wanted to "elevate" the profession of journalism. In his era, better journalism meant better newspapers. How could we further his goal today, given the makeup of news media and their challenges?

A: Become the top prizes for journalism of any kind. Do away entirely with the distinction between newspapers and other media. There's no real alternative.

Q: Should the nature of the "newspaper" be redefined as multimedia journalism grows and practices change? If so, how? For example, should we include entirely online newspapers? And what should we do with things like videography and its impact on visual journalism?

A: You can't define your way out of this dilemma, except in one sense. You can define what you mean by great journalism, and what you mean by elevating the craft. Beyond that, everything should be fair game.

Q: Should we re-examine and possibly revise the Prizes' journalism categories? If so, how? For example, should we have a separate category for large multimedia packages? Should we reconsider the idea of circulation size as a basis for category definition - at least in some cases?

A: I'd revise the categories in some fairly dramatic ways, but I would not make separate categories for media formats for the reasons I mentioned above.

I would, however, add several areas where the Pulitzers could elevate journalism in a big way. Here are just three:

1. The digital space has many characteristics, but one is that the journalism we create doesn't disappear into birdcages or pay-per-view databases. Stories and projects can accrete influence, and be timely long beyond the traditional periods. This is especially important when we recognize that the manufacturing process of journalism -- create something and send it out, period -- becomes obsolete in due course. Some ideas that take this into account:
a. We'd all benefit from a prize celebrating relentless journalism over time that led to long-term solutions of big problems; this would require a rule change to look back more than 12 months.
b. Along those lines, why not recognize reporting that was ahead of its time? Whenever a major national or international crisis becomes obvious, such as the current credit and housing meltdowns, we can always look back and find examples of prescient journalism that was essentially ignored at the time. If you made that single addition to the prizes, you'd be making a huge advance.
c. And what about journalism that has evolved. I'm working on a book that will live and evolve mostly online, and I guarantee it'll be vastly better in five years than it will be the day it's officially published for the first time. I can show you things that have been updated over time, and which now are as good as journalism can be, even though they were, early on, shadows of what they've become.

2. I'd also find ways to recognize more of the finest work by small entities that do brilliant coverage of small communities of geography or interest. Beat reporting doesn't fully cover what I'm talking about here, but it's the closest you have now. (I'm not talking about separate prizes for big and little organizations, however.)

3. I'd create a prize for innovation in journalism, recognizing an advance by someone who used the collision of media and technology to create something new and valuable to the craft.

Put all of this out for public comment, by the way. You'll be amazed at the great ideas others will have.

Q: Should we re-evaluate the kind of journalism we honor and the entries we encourage? For example, do we sometimes foster journalism projects and packages that lack relevance to everyday lives?

A: Of course you do, but that's the nature of giving prizes. I don't have a great antidote for the bigness impulse. I would try to tweak the rules and judging to favor things that genuinely lead to a better world. I don't have any obvious ways to achieve this, of course...

Q: Should the Board itself be changed? Should we alter the mix of journalists and academics? Should we expand the Board's total size? (The Board now has 17 voting members, four of whom can be non-journalists. The dean of the journalism school and the Pulitzer administrator are non-voting members of the Board.)

A: Yes change the board, in significant ways if you adopt any of the ideas I've suggested. (It seems large enough now.) The current board members are superb representatives of the 20th Century, manufactured-newspaper model of journalism, and people of that stature and accomplishment should remain part of the mix. But I'd include some very different kinds of folks, who may have a wider vision of the craft.

(Cross posted from citmedia.org)

This is the way the Web works. If this (or any) blog were my primary focus, I'd be out there rustling up readers for it, because that's what you have to do. I think a lot of journalists still see this as a grubby, low, self-promoting activity that is beneath them. Of course, it can be done in a grubby way (and often is) -- but that's true of everything. Writing headlines is, after all, another form of the art of rustling up readers. It can be done with style and flair; it can be done crudely and effectively; it can be done clumsily and stupidly. But it must be done. There is no alternative.

Here are the thoughts I shared with him in full (edited to remove redundancy now that I've added links to previous postings).

Q: When you worked in newspapers, especially at a larger metro with a mobile staff like the Mercury-News, did you feel that reporters and editors were well-connected to the communities that they covered -- engaged in the community and in conversations with citizens that led back to better news coverage. If not, how did journalism suffer?

A: It's hard to speak for others. But my impression was that we were fairly well connected to the tech and local government folks, and less so to others. There were obvious exceptions, including several local columnists.

For me, the conversation started quickly. I was writing about technology in a place where a lot of it was being invented and improved, and everyone I covered had email early on. The readers were not shy about telling me what I was missing or getting wrong. That was when I realized (duh) that they collectively knew vastly, vastly more than I did -- and what a great opportunity I had as a result.

When I started a blog in 1999, I started hearing from even more folks. Tech was and is more than ever a community of interest, not just geography, and I was learning things from a global audience by that point. I can't overstate how much the blog was valuable in expanding and deepening the conversation.

None of that was to the exclusion of standard reporting, such as picking up the phone and going to see people in person. I got some of my best stuff over lunch tables in Palo Alto, Menlo Park and San Francisco, and in hallways at conferences.

But count me in as a huge believer in the value of online tools to deepen ties especially with communities, local and global.

Q: What did you learn with Bayosphere and in researching your book about the walls between journalists and citizens in their communities? Do you have concrete suggestions for breaking down those walls? Should their be limits on what types of activities a journalist should take part in -- i.e., political activity (some journalists like Len Downie don't vote, as you probably know)?

A: If we're talking about breaking down walls between traditional journalists and communities, we're actually making some progress. Whether it's too late to matter is a separate issue, but it plainly won't hurt.

As I've suggested before, newspapers in particular can have a huge leg up on doing this, and have more options. But broadcasters can do some of these things, too.

The first thing, whether you're a newspaper editor or broadcast news director, is this simple test: Go to Flickr, Technorati and YouTube and search on your community name. You will find a parallel universe of media, being created by people in your community for themselves and each other. Then see what's happening on Facebook and MySpace and other social networks. And see what old-fashioned (!) email lists, such as Yahoo Groups or Google Groups, are covering hyper-local topics. (Our old Palo Also neighborhood, consisting of several hundred homes, had a mail list where people regularly broke news of interest there, news that would never have risen to the attention of the Palo Alto paper, much less the Mercury News or Chronicle.)

Second, stop pretending your organization is an oracle. It's not. You don't know everything, and even if you did you couldn't publish or broadcast as much as you'd like to. Pointing to outside sources of information -- especially local blogs and other media -- is a great start. It doesn't mean that you endorse what these folks are saying or vouch for it, but it does mean that you recognize that others in your community are creating media with at least some information other people might want to see. Be the portal to everything. Point widely beyond the portal on individual stories and topics, and not just to source material, which more and more organizations are finally doing. Point to your competitors' best stories when they beat you on something local. (I routinely did this on my blog, pointing to the SF Chronicle, NY Times, WSJ, trade journals and other tech outlets, because it was what my readers expected. I sent them away to the best stuff I could find, and they kept coming back because they knew I'd do that.)

Third, make sure your audience can respond and, in many cases, join the journalistic process. Comments are only a start. Moderation is a fine idea, but use a light touch. My rule for conduct is simple: We'll be civil. We can disagree sharply, but we will treat each other with respect. Beyond comments, do what more and more organizations are (belately) doing: Ask the audience for information that can lead to better journalism. But if you're turning people into unpaid freelancers, don't be surprised when they start posting what they know on their own sites, not yours.

Newspapers have at least two more huge opportunities.

First is to open the archives, with permalinks on every story in the database. Newspapers hold more of their communities' histories and all other media put together, yet they hoard it behind a paywall that produces pathetic revenues and keeps people in the communities from using it -- as they would all the time -- as part of their current lives. The revenues would go up with targeted search and keyword-specific ads on those pages, I'm absolutely convinced. But an equally important result would be to strengthen local ties. (Note: I discussed this in much greater length in 2005 in this posting, "Newspapers: Open Your Archives".)

Second, expand the conversation with the community in the one place where it's already taking place: the editorial pages. Invert them. Make the printed pages the best-of and guide to a conversation the community can and should be having with itself. The paper can't set the agenda, at least not by itself (nor should it), but it can highlight what people care about and help the community have a conversation that is civil and useful. (More on this in another 2005 posting, "Where Newspapers Can Start the Conversation".)

BTW, one word for the notion of journalists not voting: ridiculous.