Birdcage Lining: My View on Today’s Journalism Industry

Last fall, a friend and aspiring journalist at the Journal called me to proudly ask if I’d read his byline, which was published in that day’s paper. He provided the precise section and page number. My response? “Hold on, let me dig the paper out of the bird cage.” Now, CarryOn doesn’t really employ any birds… at least not literally… but I made my point. Today, newspapers may be more valuable as bird cage lining than as vehicles for delivering the news. Why would I trudge across the office to disturb the actual, physical print version of the paper that was so happily posing as placemat to some cup of joe in our communal kitchen?

To underscore my point, I have to plug my (favorite) client Symantec and the findings of the Norton Online Living Report (the most amazing PR campaign ever conceptualized!) that found Internet users worldwide read news online at nearly an equal rate as in traditional printed newspapers and magazines. Now, I’m one of those rare PR professionals who actually started her career before the days of the Internet, but I pride myself in keeping pace with the times. I embrace technology. I have to – as CarryOn’s Tech Practice Leader, it’s what I do for a living. Friends, I cuddle my Blackberry. So, for an Internet addict like me, the stat about reading news online is conservative. At best. Seriously, doesn’t everybody get their news from the Internet, where every report filed must be true, even if it’s posted on a site called “GoFugYourself”?

But, due exclusively to the unrelenting persistence of my scoop-hunting and news-breaking friend, I gave in. I actually got up from my desk, left my office, caught a tram to the kitchen where the papers are stashed and dirtied my hands with ink (yes, dear Internet generation, papers really do leave you messed with ink… it ain’t purdy and don’t do it wearing white). My friend’s column on the “bantering Bancrofts” was witty, but what was really memorable was my renewed love affair with the paper – the actual, physical, hard-copy version of the paper.

I spent an hour flirting with the papers that morning. I read the Journal, the Gray Lady, the Pink Sheet, and even the entertainment rags. Actually, maybe read is an understatement. I devoured them (and my coffee). And I learned something. You can tell a lot about a paper by experiencing its physical manifestation. Having not picked up a paper in years, the first thing I noticed was how thin it had gotten. It lost weight. And not just a few pounds, but it shed entire pages. This gave me an insane dose of reality on how dire the traditional journalism industry is. Gone are the pages of colorful, clever ads, and with them, the credible, authoritative, expert journalism of yesteryear. Where has the reckless ad spending gone? Once you get beyond the initial shock and awe of the skeleton of a paper, you are quickly schooled on the publisher’s priorities. Just scan the headlines and look at the print layout. Consider how the stories are placed on the page. What’s above the fold. What’s below. What story was big enough to make it to A1. What stories were abandoned on the last page. What stories merited photography and original artwork. All of this gives you invaluable insight to how the media operates. As PR professionals, it allows us to better hone our pitches, appreciate the spoils of our hard work, and remind us how lucky we are to have a choice.