Simon Dumenco of Advertising Age interviewed David Carr of the New York Times. They’re friends, so the interview has a little bit of a smarmy feel. But it’s worth reading for a couple of passages. Carr recently came out with a book of autobiographical reporting on his own violent, addiction-riddled past. He offered this comment about what it was like for him to be covered by other journalists:
Carr: There are two kinds of reporters that I experienced. One was people that just showed up, asked a lot of questions, wrote down what I said, and then went and wrote a story about my answers and what they knew. And then there was another version of reporter that showed up, made a speech about what my book was about, made a number of assumptions about why I wrote it, asked me a few questions and then went and wrote what they thought. And I’ve always, I think, had tendencies toward the second kind of reporter. The people who just came and asked questions, their stories were 10 times better, and I gotta say that had a profound effect on me. I don’t need to make a speech before I start in on a story. I don’t need to explain what I think. I need to find out what the other person knows and then write it up. I need to show more curiosity about the matter at hand, and less authority.
There are several ways to read this passage. One is to think, right, the reporter with the agenda or the angle is never going to give you as open-minded or responsive a reading of reality than the reporter who just opens his eyes and ears. And you can’t really argue with that. Another reading is to notice that the moment the reporter becomes a subject (with a book to promote), he suddenly sees the value of the reporter-as-stenographer and discounts the journalism of perspective and interpretation and challenge.
Of course, it’s also possible that Carr is simply saying, “I’ve always been too interested in impressing my interviewees with how smart I am. Now I know why that’s a bad reporting technique.” And that is something we can all learn from.
Here is the other comment from Carr worth thinking about: He’s lamenting how quickly the pay scale for even the more successful New York journalists has plummeted, and then notes:
I feel as if media has become a kind of reverse roach motel, in that once you’re out, you’re probably not coming back in.
I read that and blinked at first — was this a misprint? The doors of today’s media world are wide open; it costs virtually nothing to publish yourself. There is more creation of media — more publishing of words, images, and video — than at any time before in human history. The roaches aren’t leaving the motel, never to return; it’s more like, the entire world has become a roach colony. We’re all roaches now! (Please note I am not addressing the question of roach quality here, simply the matter of roach identity.)
Then I realized, oh — when Carr says “media,” he isn’t thinking, “people publishing stuff for others to read.” He’s thinking, “the New York media business that I cover and am a part of.” When he says “media,” he means “well-paying media jobs” in a community where, apparently, a dollar a word is not enough to make ends meet.
That’s understandable, but it’s a habit we might as well break. Because we have no choice. “Media” as an industry providing a professional paycheck is rapidly becoming unmoored from “media” as a description of a human activity. It’s a disruptive transition, and it carries curses and blessings, and it’s going to keep on providing us with these moments of misunderstanding, these eye-blinkers.
Carr: What if the combination of secular and cyclical change that we have — what if this is normal? What if all the money that was sloshing around was in fact from the housing bubble, from easy credit, and that credit does not return? I think that’s a much more difficult and scary problem. I haven’t seen the money coming back yet.
Dumenco: Yeah, I don’t think it’s coming back.
I’m afraid I’m with Dumenco on that. And yes, it’s “scary,” but only in the way any economic disruption is — from the collapse of Wall Street to the imploding auto industry. Any time large numbers of jobs vanish it’s a “scary problem.” But in this vast, roachy media realm that’s emerging, at least journalists are much better positioned than, say, auto workers to find new opportunities.