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A tale of two scalps

February 14, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

When two high-profile stories surface nearly simultaneously and share some superficial traits, the news media will lump them together. The blogosphere, it seems, shares this understandable reflex. And so we have the parallel buzzes over the resignation of CNN exec Eason Jordan and the exposure of a dubious character in the White House press room sharing mind-space as examples of the ascendant power of blogs to make and break careers, expose error and deception and generally cause a ruckus. I Am Blogger, Hear Me Roar!

But these two stories are fundamentally different, and, I’d argue, of radically different import.

Jordan, the CNN exec who quit on Friday, apparently shot his mouth off at the Davos conference, making an overly broad statement of some kind (the Davos management won’t release a video or transcript of the event so there’s no record to refer to, only hearsay) suggesting that U.S. troops had targeted journalists in Iraq. He backed off almost immediately, it seems, but his mea culpas weren’t sufficiently earnest.

Over the years at Salon I’ve been on the inside of stories like this enough times to know that, when you’re on the outside, you never have the full story, and the idea that angry bloggers alone laid Jordan low seems extraordinary unlikely to me. If you have your organization’s confidence, this sort of thing rolls off easily; if you don’t, then you’re vulnerable to the first controversy to come along.

I’m not shedding tears for the CNN executive. I’m always amazed at the stupid things CEOs, politicians, news honchos and other people who hold public responsibility will say in public (and do in private), thinking that the inherent power of their position grants them carte blanche and wraps them in Teflon. If they need to be beaten up over and over again until they really, really understand that — as the saying goes in blog-land — “off the record is dead,” fine.

Jordan joins Dan Rather and Jayson Blair and many, many other journalists now off-duty or just waiting to be disgraced someday. His story is now a routine one — that of the media pro who does not realize that the world has changed around him, that there is a new activist sphere of journalistic review and criticism happening collectively in real time, and that no gaffe, error or deception is likely to remain hidden. Until media people fully and deeply learn that they are responsible for their words and their work, and that this scrutiny is a good thing for their profession, careers will continue to fall casualty.

But this weeding-out process doesn’t take place in some sort of scientific vacuum, wherein the flaws of the profession can be precipitated out, leaving behind the pure essence of journalism. It is happening in the heart of a political storm. Jordan was a target for the right because conservatives think CNN is a liberal network. (That’s a joke, but let’s leave that partisan controversy alone for now.) And the conservative blogosphere is now claiming his scalp with a whoop.

It seems simple to equate that whoop with the glee on the left that preceded it, as bloggers unraveled the strange tale of “Jeff Gannon” — a fellow who mysteriously leaped from the obscurity of a right-wing Web site into the heart of the White House press corps, where he became a ringer for the Bush administration’s press secretary, who regularly turned to him for “questions” that hilariously echoed the Bush party line. It turned out Gannon was using a fake name, had only the most dubious claim to press credentials, and was plainly more of a shill than a reporter; when the collective investigations of the blogosphere began to turn up personal details that were embarrassing for an avowed conservative, “Gannon” publicly quit his job at “Talon News.”

So the score is tied, right? But this isn’t a game, or a battle with a body count; if the only significance here is — to borrow and twist a phrase from last decade’s partisan trench warfare — the Journalism of Personal Destruction, then it’s all pretty trivial.

Eason Jordan’s trial-by-blog is simply the latest example of the convulsive and painful but inevitable and long-brewing transformation of professional journalism from a protected sphere into a more open environment. That’s important, but it’s hadly news any more. The Gannon story, on the other hand, offers us a peek into the next chapter of the story — the one in which an opportunistic political establishment, sensing the vulnerability of the media, grabs the moment to reshape the public’s very grasp of reality.

Let’s remember that, while its press secretary is calling on the Jeff Gannons of the world for cover, the Bush administration is also offering under-the-counter payoffs to columnists and sending out video press releases in which PR people masquerade as reporters. This isn’t a simple matter of a gaffe here and there; it’s a systematic campaign to discredit the media, launched by an administration that desperately needs to keep propping up its Potemkin Village versions of reality (We’ll find weapons of mass destruction! We’ll cut the deficit! We’ll save Social Security by phasing it out! Really!). When you’re pursuing an Orwellian agenda, your first target must be anyone who has the standing to point it out. Messengers are a pain — but if you shoot enough of them (figuratively speaking!), and send out enough impostors, you can have any message you want.

Journalism, of course, has done so much on its own to discredit itself that the administration’s assault has an easy path; the timbers it’s battering are often rotten already. But while those of us who cherish the freedom, the liveliness and the free-for-all energy of the blogosphere — and I happily include myself — sit in our conferences and muse in our postings about the finer points of the transformations around us, the machinery of realpolitik is grinding away. It doesn’t care about the ethics of transparency or the abstract debate over “who is a journalist?” It simply seizes an opportunity to reduce the supply of what Ron Suskind calls “honest brokers.”

While we discuss how the “end of objectivity” means we have to find new ways to earn the public’s trust and pursue the goals of accuracy and fairness, the White House is laughing at its new opportunity to mess with the American people’s heads. While we consider the implications of an era in which everyone has access to a virtual printing press and anyone can be a reporter, the people in the White House press office are busily figuring out how they can dragoon more pseudo-reporters into the front row. While idealists post and fiddle, realists in power are burning down the house.

Accountability is a grand principle. The Eason Jordan story shows us how journalists are still having a hard time getting used to the fact that they are being asked to follow it, too. The Jeff Gannon story shows us how easy it is, once the journalistic establishment has begun its self-destructive implosion, for public officials to engineer a reality that suits their own agenda. To me, that’s the bigger story.

Filed Under: Blogging, Media, Politics

David Talbot moves on

February 10, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

In 1994, the Internet grabbed me by the lapels and said, “Come here, kid.” I learned all about HTML and TCP/IP but I knew nothing about raising money or starting a company. It was David Talbot who had the totally unshakeable belief that it would be possible, not only creatively but financially, to start an independent Web site where he and a group of writers and editors from the San Francisco Examiner, including me, could try to do their best work.

Since the news of his stepping down as editor of Salon broke today, it seems the right time to tip my hat to his ingenuity and tenacity and guts over the years of starting Salon, shaping it, and keeping it afloat in high tides and low ebbs.

I’m getting asked a bit about what the transitions at Salon mean for me, so I’ll mention what I’ve said in this space before: I’m thrilled to be working on my book, but I would never have felt right about taking a break from Salon in the first place if I didn’t have deep trust and confidence in the people who are now in charge. Joan Walsh and Betsy Hambrecht are smart and energetic and creative, and they will, I’m sure, keep Salon moving in good directions. I’ll be continuing to enjoy my new status as a reader of the site who doesn’t know everything that’s going to be published beforehand. And when my own project is done I hope to return to Salon and contribute to its next chapters.

Filed Under: Media, Personal, Salon

Pattern precognition

February 9, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

David Weinberger is posting interesting notes from a high-powered TTI Vanguard conference here in SF.

This post on Eric Bonabeau’s presentation caught my eye:

  Eric Bonabeau of Icosystem says that we tend to believe that the future is present in the mass of data and we just need to find it. But we use existing patterns to search the data, which can’t turn up new patterns. Humans are amazing pattern-detecting machines but we’re terrible at exploring alternatives. Eric suggests selective breeding: make new combinations, look at the results, pick the most interesting results, recombine them, etc. He does a live demo that discovers a “hidden bagel” in a 50-dimensional financial data set. (I have no idea what that sentence means once it gets past the word “bagel.”) It helps not to know what you’re looking for.

I’ve heard Bonabeau, at the O’Reilly Emerging Technology conference (coming up again soon), give a talk on emergent behavior (among ants and in other places) and he’s always fascinating. This notion — that, since “we use existing patterns to search the data”, we’re blind to new patterns — has echoes and analogues all over the map, all the way from the little copy-editing exercise that Dave Winer periodically challenges us with to the disastrous failure of American policy in the lead-up to the Iraq war (a mistaken pattern so potent that much of the population still believes in a patently untrue scenario). Our minds fall into existing patterns like wheels in a rut; we “see” words spelled right even when they’re misspelled, and we “see” events unfold according to the sequence we expect, even when the information parading across our eyeballs tells us otherwise.

What interests me is applying this insight to journalism. We all know the hack’s drill: First you decide what your story is, then you go out and find the facts and quotes to fit. The sad truth today, however, is that this approach isn’t just for hacks: Most reporters in most newsrooms don’t have the time, the freedom or the resources to cover most stories in any other way. This is one of the big causes of the much-vaunted credibility crisis we hear so much about in the blogosphere and all of its attendant conferences. For an astonishingly high percentage of professional journalists, the news they recognize is the news that fits the pattern they have already selected as the template for their coverage. This keeps working until real news starts dancing in front of their eyes — and they miss it. (For instance, the story of the ringer reporter from Talon News was sitting right under the eyes of the entire Washington press corps. But it took a swarm of Web-based sleuths operating collaboratively across multiple blogs to piece the strange saga together and discredit President Bush’s friendly plant in the White House press room.)

“It helps not to know what you’re looking for” ought to be the proud banner of the journalistic generalist — the writer who can step into any situation, ask the right questions and get out with clear explanations for the rest of us. But reporters have tight deadlines and editors telling them what they want and, often, instincts dulled by years of repetition — and all but the very best and most creative end up coming out with what they went in for, rather than something unexpected.

One of the pacts I’ve made with myself as I’ve worked on my book is: Don’t go in with the story. Give myself the freedom not to know what I’m looking for. It’s less efficient, everything takes longer, there are blind alleys and extra interviews. But, if I’m persistent and lucky, maybe I’ll end up with something other than the same old patterns.

Newspapers and magazines and Web sites aren’t, can’t be, books, of course. They’ll always have deadlines; they’ll never have enough bodies or money or time. And more and more, the news that they miss is being covered by amateurs and solo operations on the Net. So forward-looking people in the business are all abuzz about new approaches to “citizen journalism” and “we media” and other ideas for harnessing the Internet’s many-to-many dynamics. Books are being written (congratulations to Jay Rosen, who has announced one that I will look forward to); new ventures planned.

Will some hybridization of old media and the new swarm dynamic help more hidebound publications find their souls again? I’m optimistic about the creative possibilities, skeptical about the business realities. But I don’t doubt that journalists could learn a lot from Bonabeau’s ants.

Filed Under: Blogging, Dreaming in Code, Media

Wall Street Journal liberals: And then there were none

February 3, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

Over at the New York Times, William Safire has retired, and people are speculating about whether the paper will replace him with another conservative, or whether David Brooks constitutes a sufficient dosage.

Meanwhile, the Wall Street Journal op-ed roster recently lost its one token liberal voice when Al Hunt decided to leave the paper. Hunt was never a terribly exciting writer, but at least he exposed the Journal’s readership to a glimmer of light from outside its own serenely hermetic universe. Would the Journal keep any room on its opinion pages — otherwise filled with the usual motley gang of social neanderthals, rad-lib[ertarians] and Bush sycophants — for a dissenting voice?

Apparently not. Today the paper told its readers that Hunt’s old Thursday slot was going to be filled by a rotating gang of commentary writers presenting outside-the-Beltway perspectives.

Look, I’m all for getting out of the Beltway. But getting out of your own partisan wagon-circle is also healthy. Doesn’t the Journal have room for a single dissenter? Or is that whole concept just so, like, pre-9/11 that the Journal doesn’t even think it’s worth addressing?

Filed Under: Media

Astroturf journalism at the White House

February 3, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

President Bush has relied on a ringer in recent press conferences: This guy named Jeff Gannon from a right-wing news site called “Talon News” spouts the GOP party line and lobs softball questions at the prez that repeat his own press releases. Metafilter and Salon’s War Room have more.

This is the dark side of the “now everyone’s a journalist” blogosphere meme, a concept that for the most part I think is positive. But once anyone can set up as a journalist, public figures can summon astroturf reporters to do their bidding, and officials can “paper the house” with sympathizers the way theater producers have always done on opening night. (This reminds me of what happened in movie criticism in the ’80s and ’90s, as a variety of bozos went into the business of providing movie “reviews” to borderline media outlets with the sole purpose of giving the movie marketers a bottomless well of positive quotes.)

The only answer, I suppose, is to say to the White House press office, hey, if your bloggers and guys-with-Web-sites get to ask questions at press conferences, the other side’s should, too. Get Kos and Atrios and Tom Tomorrow in there! Mix it up! (No way, I know.)

Filed Under: Media, Politics

Tracking the newsroom bug-tracking idea

January 28, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

I want to return to the idea I floated a few days ago about bug-tracking software for newsrooms. The comments response ranged from “neat idea!” to “it’ll never work,” so let’s look it over again.

What I imagined was something similar to the way open-source software development projects manage bug reports. When people file bugs against such a project, they go to a publicly available online resource and enter a form that says “Here’s a problem I encountered,” and provide details. Different projects follow different organizational structures, but generally speaking, other developers will review the bug and try to classify it: Sometimes they’ll say it’s a duplicate and point to previous entries in the database that dealt with it; sometimes they’ll say it’s a simple problem and go fix it right away and close it out; sometimes they’ll say it’s a big one and leave it open to be dealt with in the future; sometimes they’ll say it’s a “known bug” that for one reason or another is never going to be fixed; sometimes they’ll say it’s not a bug at all.

For a newsroom, the idea is to provide a structure and a channel for reader dissatisfaction. You wouldn’t have to follow the software model detail for detail, but the general outline could be valuable: Provide a form for readers to enter complaints, one that requires them to present details. Post the complaint publicly as soon as it’s entered, and record the publication’s response in a reasonably prompt fashion — anything from “Thanks, we fixed the spelling on that name” to “we chose the phrase ‘private accounts’ because it is an accurate description of the president’s proposal, and the label was in wide use by supporters of the idea until very recently, so we do not plan to stop using the term.” The explanation is on record, and if other readers keep filing the same complaint they can simply be pointed back to the original answer. Spam? Just delete it. Letters to the editor that don’t have a specific complaint? Re-route them to the letters box.

The most common objection seems to be, forget it — this will become another free-for-all for political partisans to work out their agendas, another wide-open Internet forum that will degenerate into circular debate. Such forums already exist, to be sure; the point of a bug tracker is to avoid that outcome by choosing a narrower environment for the feedback that allows you to quickly aggregate and dispose of duplicate complaints, and that provides a public record of responsiveness and accountability. If 500 people all holler that you shouldn’t say “private accounts,” you can answer them once and be done with it — but you can point each individual complaint back to your explanation, so those people understand that you actually heard them and offered some sort of response. There’s a big difference between the silence of no response and “no, we’re not doing that, here’s why.” The latter won’t satisfy everyone, but it at least acknowledges that there’s been an exchange on the subject.

Ross Karchner proposed a somewhat different model based on wiki practices: “1) A publically viewable changelog, where you can see, in detail, the changes made to an article. 2) A place where the author(s) and editor(s) can discuss the changes needed and made. This is also in public view…” I’m not sure whether Ross means the changelog and the writer/editor dialogue to commence from the first time the writer composed a draft, or only upon publication. The former is, I think, too wide open — even a blogger has the right to compose a posting and revise it in private before choosing to push the “publish” button. The latter is fine — but since most reputable publications rarely change articles once they’re published, and note the changes as corrections if they do, then it’s just codifying an existing practice in slightly different ways.

As for the idea of trying all this out at Salon: Who knows, I might well advocate it, though my current on-leave status doesn’t put me in a good spot to work on it. But Salon has been dealing with the back-and-forth of online criticism of our work for 9 years plus. Whatever problems we may suffer from, a failure of responsiveness to online feedback is not, I think, one of them, and we have a pretty sturdy process for reviewing complaints fast and correcting them where needed.

I think this approach would pay off best for a newsroom that is having difficulty convincing readers that the publication is actually listening to them. If you showed the public that you were recording and responding to the issues they raised — whether you end up publishing a correction or simply saying, “We don’t think that needs correcting, and here’s why” — I think you’d start to bank some confidence and trust pretty quickly.

I’m not suggesting that this idea is the single, one-fix-solves-all-problems answer to the ills of journalism today. It’s a pragmatic, you-could-do-it-real-soon suggestion for beginning to deal with professional journalism’s biggest problem: the public’s loss of trust, which begins with the sense that media companies are big institutions that pay no attention to their own mistakes.

Filed Under: Media, Technology

Blogging for fun and (not) profit

January 27, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

Jay Rosen has posted a walloping trilogy of responses and reactions to the recent Bloggers, Journalism and Credibility conference at Harvard. (One, Two, Three.)

It’s clear that a lot of editors and news execs got their minds opened a little wider, and some number of bloggers got to see that the monolith of the so-called MSM is made up of real, dedicated people. There’s no war here, except when an occasional provocateur decides to stir things up (inaccurately, says Rosen).

As my five-year-old son Matthew likes to say: “Whatever.”

But there is still, I think, a gulf in understanding between journalistic professionals and blogging amateurs. Professionals have been conditioned for life into thinking that “reach” equals value and that news and information that is not commercial is news and information that is not significant. Amateurs typically don’t care as long as they get to do what they love. (Some amateurs do care, but they are not true amateurs — they are simply aspiring professionals, pros who just haven’t yet been hired.) So pros fail to understand the significance of the vast reaches of the blogosphere that do not compete with pro journalism and don’t wish to. These multitudes may have tiny followings; they may desire slightly larger followings — who doesn’t want to be heard? — but they don’t dream of stardom or of quitting their day jobs. (Not, at least, in order to blog.)

When a New York Times Magazine writer declared last fall that “nobody reads” most blogs, he casually flattened the space between “mass or niche market” and “nobody.” This formulation shoves everything that falls below the threshold of media significance into the null void.

Pros — stuck on the understandable but by now, one hopes, discredited idea that blogging aims to replace journalism as we know it — often can’t kick the habit of valuing blogging purely as a business proposition. Some quotes from Rosen’s roundup illustrate this.

Here’s Jim Kennedy, vice president and director of strategic planning for The Associated Press: “The real ‘ecosystem’ of news — with reporters, editors, bloggers and wikipedians — won’t truly flourish until we figure out how to support it. Can we provide services to each other, form business partnerships, generate mutual traffic benefits?”

(But the ecosystem is flourishing now — just have a look!)

Here’s Alex Jones, director of the Shorenstein Center on the Press, Politics and Public Policy at Harvard: “…I think that the brand and distribution power of the mainstream media will be even more important in an increasingly crowded blogosphere.”

(Yes, if your aim is to corral eyeballs. But there are other standards.)

Here’s Faye M. Anderson, , former national correspondent for PoliticallyBlack.com, former vice chairman of the Republican National Committee’s New Majority Council: “Bloggers’ credibility will be established by the market. If readers find us credible, they will come. If not, we’ll be left with a community of fifteen people.”

(Millions of blogs, each with a community of fifteen people? That adds up to a rather large sphere of communication.)

Ethan Zuckerman seemed to get what I’m talking about: “This conference reminded me that both camps [bloggers and Wikipedians] are firmly in the ‘amateur’ camp — where ‘amateur’ doesn’t mean ‘unprofessional’, but ‘motivated by love, not by financial remuneration.'”

Blogs are superficially similar enough to newspapers, magazines and commercial Web sites that professional journalists can talk about them while hanging onto their old yardsticks and habits of thinking. To a lot of editors, a blogger just looks like a byline in search of a paycheck. But the Wikipedia‘s nameless, recompense-less multitudes can’t be dismissed as easily.

That’s why, I think, the Wikipedia seems to have blown so many pros’ minds at the conference. Gee — maybe this stuff really is, you know, new. And different. And worthy of, if not outright preening, then close attention.

Filed Under: Blogging, Media

Yesterday’s news is tomorrow’s fish-and-chip paper

January 26, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

Dan Gillmor offers a plea to newspapers to open up their for-pay archives. He’s got logic on his side but business inertia against it. Newspapers are used to getting revenue from their old content because third parties like Lexis/Nexis pay them for it and then charge whopping fees to their own customers to access the material. Those same papers are seeing classified ad revenue drain away to the Web; I just don’t see their corporate leaders choosing to abandon this real revenue for the intangible possibility of long-term grown in keyword advertising on open Web archives.

Is this short-sighted? You bet. Is that Lexis/Nexis revenue going to vanish eventually anyway, as the open Web displaces it and reduces demand for the old for-pay stuff? You bet. Will the newspapers then lose out, long-term, as other institutions step into the vacuum on the Web and become the “publications of record”? You bet.

This is, I think, inevitable, given the pattern in American business that makes it nearly impossible for existing institutions to sacrifice this quarter’s revenue for riskier, long-term goals. Newspapers as businesses are hugely conservative; they change slowly if at all. It seems almost certain to me that over the next 30-40 years local newspapers will vanish. We’ll be left with two or three national institutions like the Times and the Journal — they’ve got their own upscale market of people willing to pay for in-depth coverage, and they’ll figure out a path to deliver it in whatever format their readers want. For local news and information, it will be cheaper, more efficient and more profitable to serve the public electronically.

The economic structure that supported local newspapers is going to migrate, is already beginning to migrate, online. And I don’t think most newspapers are nimble enough to follow. New players will pick up that business — and take on the mantle of providing local news. In the course of this change we’ll gain some speed and variety and all the new possibilities of a many-to-many information world; we’ll also lose some valuable traditions. Our recycling bins, at least, will thank us.

Filed Under: Media

Bugzilla meets the press

January 24, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

This morning’s Romenesko brought this link to a Sacramento Bee column about how some newspapers have begun to use databases to track errors and corrections. Reasonable enough, but maybe not far enough, and it got me thinking.

Software development teams have used bug tracking software for ages now — why not journalists? But keeping it in-house, as the papers the Bee cites seem to do, limits the value of the approach.

I’m spending a lot of time these days around open-source software developers, and they take the logic of this approach one step further: Major open source projects maintain public bug databases. Anyone can come along and post a bug report. It’s like opening a trouble ticket: developers will have a look, see if your complaint is new or duplicates an existing problem; over time the database provide a permanent record of the resolution (or non-resolution) of the issue.

The model doesn’t map perfectly onto journalism, but it’s not too far off: Let people file “bug reports” if they believe your publication has published something in need of correcting. The publication can respond however it seems appropriate: If the complaint is frivolous, you point that out; if it’s a minor error of spelling or detail, you fix it; if it’s a major error, you deal with it however you traditionally deal with major errors — but you’ve left a trail that shows what happened. However you respond, you’ve opened a channel of communication, so that people who feel you’ve goofed don’t just go off to their corners (or their blogs!) feeling that you’re unresponsive and irresponsible.

I know this idea will horrify a lot of editors and reporters, but I think an adventurous newsroom could benefit from the transparency and the accountability. Maybe someone’s already doing this out there — if so, it would be great to see what we can learn.

Filed Under: Media, Technology

Udell’s umlaut epic

January 22, 2005 by Scott Rosenberg

The Wikipedia’s heavy metal umlaut page is a pretty amazing thing in itself. But this is even more amazing.

Jon Udell has been pioneering what he calls “screencasting,” an unusual sort of online journalism that involves taking over your browser screen with screengrabs and animations while he narrates via the audio track. It always seemed mildly interesting to me as a way to do technology demos and product walkthroughs and the like; but with this piece, Udell has taken the form to a higher level, and shown us that it’s something weird and wonderful — and unique to our new Web world.

Plus we get a full technical education in the difficulty of producing an umlauted “n” on screen, an investigation into an act of drive-by wiki vandalism, and an anthropological chronicle of the behavior of Wikipedia contributors. Bravo!

Filed Under: Media, Technology

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