FIRST POSTED AT http://www.theconversation.wamu.org
I was amazed to find that my American University class in Multi-Media Management,starting in mid-January, is already fully subscribed.
Believe me, despite the Great Depression 2, candidates who want to forge a media career in 2009 are still valued, whether its radio, TV, web, print, or all of the above, so long as they have important stories to tell.
As a journalist, manager, and coach, I have learned to distinguish between those aspiring to be famous (or at least recognized by their moms) and those who have something to say based on what they have discovered.
If its all about you, as encouraged by some of the commercial media, then forget it. If its about the stories you want to tell, jobs are still available (assuming you can write), but here is some quick advice.
Don't just rely on your own friends, do your own reporting. You can write stories beyond your own group (Twitter, Facebook,etc) to garner outside interest in your writing. You can overcome shyness and track down strangers who may be able to shed light on your story, ask them relevant questions, and reproduce the answers in a way which accurately reflects their responses. This way, you'll shed new light and new information on issues, not merely replicate the gossip of others. Contrary to contemporary belief, the ability to duplicate other people's reporting does not make you a 'journalist'.
The market for media jobs is fiercely competitive, so it helps to concentrate on pulling together a brilliant letter and resume. Do your best writing. When sending me a resume, the ability to spell my name correctly, and demonstrate some understanding of the programs my radio station airs with a brief description of what they contain goes a long, long way. Showing up knowing where you are, and what the organization does, is a surprisingly easy plus.
In order to survive, you need to know why you are in this competitive industry. You should have a one year, five year and ten-year career target, with the single-mindedness, energy and talent to attract recruiters who are faced with tough choices.
Even today, good journalism is not simply a job. Its a vocation.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
The American Forum on Obama and the press
Watch Mark hosting the American Forum on C-SPAN here, or listen to it on WAMU.ORG here.
*Sponsored by the American University School of Communication and WAMU 88.5
Politics and Pundits: The Promises of the New Presidency
and the press. Guests: Bob Schieffer, host of CBS News' Face the Nation and chief
Washington correspondent, CBS News
Dotty Lynch, executive in residence at SOC and CBS News
political consultant
Tom Rosenstiel, director, Project for Excellence in Journalism
Gebe Martinez, regular contributing columnist, Politico
Tony Romm, editor of politics@theEAGLE
Washington is in for change in January, with the election of Sen. Barack Obama as president. What will the effect of the most covered presidential campaign in history be? Who will be the players for the next four years? What were the key media moments? Were the media stricken with Obamamania, as has been charged? Or, were they even-handed in their coverage of an unprecedented wild ride of a political season? A statesman of broadcast news, a political consultant, a media analyst, a columnist, and an up-and-coming politics writer will look at these questions in an American Forum **live on WAMU 88.5** just a week after the election.
Mark McDonald
American Forum Moderator
Director of Programs, WAMU 88-5 FM
Broadcast Journalist in Residence, American University
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Get a big shovel
First posted at WAMU's The Conversation
A lot of our favorite radio shows would never have survived the "focus group" stage of inception. Car Talk springs to mind. Prairie Home Companion is another. Some hard-nosed statistician would have shot them down in flames.
But by the same token, you can't just sit down and open the mic. These days, the least a successful start-up public radio production takes is a great idea. Try big resources, investment, and a high degree of blind faith. Not to mention gall, guts, opportunism, deluded optimism, stubbornness, and a high degree of nerve. Then there are all the potential competitors for your favored time-slot who will try to shoot you down before you get started or rubbish your show's quality, and some of them have bigger microphones and much deeper pockets than you.
And, then, the acid test - will listeners even like it? Our own Diane Rehm managed to do it virtually alone, with just the support and encouragement of her closest colleagues.
So its sad to hear this week of 11 economy-related layoffs at Chicago Public Radio, one of the boldest and most imaginative outfits in our dysfunctional public radio family, and the news that NPR are shutting down two relatively new programs, "Day to Day" and "News and Notes"among other big cutbacks.
Chicago have been experimenting with "Vocalo.org", a swash-buckling new format aimed at younger and more diverse audiences who allegedly pass on the traditional rigidity of NPR. The nersayers are already accusing station management (who are taking pay cuts) of wasting core money on the experiment, hence the need for the cuts.
NPR wanted more variety and diversity in midday conversations, hence Day to Day and News and Notes. But a lot of big stations stuck with the established talk shows citing the strong audience numbers for those programs. I never had a prime-time slot for either on Channel One, but we aired them both on HD Channel 3.
Not that any of these new enterprises were in every sense failures. Its more a recession-driven need to retreat to the tried and trusted and away from experimentation which drives the decisions when economic reality beckons in public broadcasting. These days, some purists also question the proportion of investment being made by industry leaders in trying to get out ahead of the innovations in "new" and "social" media and whether its at the expense of high quality programs which might work on any given distribution platforms. You decide.
Its a sad fact that despite the diversity we have in our programming line-ups nationwide, only a handful of shows survive without heavy handouts from their sponsoring stations or from corporate partners. So the next time you think about starting a gardening show, think twice. You'll likely need a wealthy backer, and a strong stomach, as well as a big shovel.
A lot of our favorite radio shows would never have survived the "focus group" stage of inception. Car Talk springs to mind. Prairie Home Companion is another. Some hard-nosed statistician would have shot them down in flames.
But by the same token, you can't just sit down and open the mic. These days, the least a successful start-up public radio production takes is a great idea. Try big resources, investment, and a high degree of blind faith. Not to mention gall, guts, opportunism, deluded optimism, stubbornness, and a high degree of nerve. Then there are all the potential competitors for your favored time-slot who will try to shoot you down before you get started or rubbish your show's quality, and some of them have bigger microphones and much deeper pockets than you.
And, then, the acid test - will listeners even like it? Our own Diane Rehm managed to do it virtually alone, with just the support and encouragement of her closest colleagues.
So its sad to hear this week of 11 economy-related layoffs at Chicago Public Radio, one of the boldest and most imaginative outfits in our dysfunctional public radio family, and the news that NPR are shutting down two relatively new programs, "Day to Day" and "News and Notes"among other big cutbacks.
Chicago have been experimenting with "Vocalo.org", a swash-buckling new format aimed at younger and more diverse audiences who allegedly pass on the traditional rigidity of NPR. The nersayers are already accusing station management (who are taking pay cuts) of wasting core money on the experiment, hence the need for the cuts.
NPR wanted more variety and diversity in midday conversations, hence Day to Day and News and Notes. But a lot of big stations stuck with the established talk shows citing the strong audience numbers for those programs. I never had a prime-time slot for either on Channel One, but we aired them both on HD Channel 3.
Not that any of these new enterprises were in every sense failures. Its more a recession-driven need to retreat to the tried and trusted and away from experimentation which drives the decisions when economic reality beckons in public broadcasting. These days, some purists also question the proportion of investment being made by industry leaders in trying to get out ahead of the innovations in "new" and "social" media and whether its at the expense of high quality programs which might work on any given distribution platforms. You decide.
Its a sad fact that despite the diversity we have in our programming line-ups nationwide, only a handful of shows survive without heavy handouts from their sponsoring stations or from corporate partners. So the next time you think about starting a gardening show, think twice. You'll likely need a wealthy backer, and a strong stomach, as well as a big shovel.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Cheese with the Kitchen Sisters
Thanks to the Kitchen Sisters, the Cabot Creamery, and the Public Affairs teams of WAMU and NPR, we had a terrific time last night at the Washington Historic Society. In front of an audience of 300, Susan Stamberg interviewed the sisters, Davia and Nikki, about their broadcasting careers. Thanks to all who made it such a warm evening inside.
Mark's remarks at the Kitchen Sister's event:-
As a lifelong connoisseur of micro-waved frozen french fries and boiled frozen sprouts I am totally unsuited to the task of introducing such celebrants of food as tonight's host and special guests.
But luckily I’m here tonight to represent more than the workaholic parents’ bad diet club.
I’m speaking on behalf of the listeners to WAMU 88.5 and users of WAMU.ORG to recognize the extraordinary contribution the Kitchen Sisters have made to public radio’s reputation with more than 2-hundred features of community, story-telling, quality, curiosity, and surprise.
The kind of radio they’re making has propelled WAMU 88.5 to the rank of third most-listened to public station in the United States, and made us a major player in the Washington media market. And I’m proud to tell you that our recent Fall membership campaign yielded a record $1.4 million dollars and more than 10,000 new donors.
If you contributed, thank you. If you haven’t, as we always say, its not too late!
Much of what Davia and Nikki have achieved started with the basic ingredients of curious reporting. Poking around their chosen beats – kitchens, restaurants, family tables, farms, and – closest to my heart - allotments.
The feature on the London allotments heard this summer on Morning Edition moved me to tears. Many of these gardens were grown from the World War Two slogan “dig for victory”, and my grandfather fed many of his neighbors during that struggle from the fruits of his back-yard vegetable patch.
There's a lot of talk in public radio these days about localism – connecting what’s happening in the wider world to events, developments and challenges in our own communities. At WAMU 88.5 we try to do this every day with our local coverage. Through the celebration of food and community in all their forms The Kitchen Sisters stories have brought this mission to a new level.
And we’re additionally fortunate that speaking with them tonight is an NPR correspondent, host and author who has been with the network from the very beginning, and has remained an inspiration to public service broadcasters for more than four decades. Susan Stamberg has won every major award in broadcasting and is a pioneer for women in the industry.
Of course, she began her radio career at WAMU where she served as journalist, program director, and general manager. Together with her wonderful husband Lou, who passed away just a year ago, Susan has been one of the station’s most committed supporters ever since.
And she also knows a little bit about food. And it is around this time of year when Susan’s legendary recipe for Cranberry Relish becomes the talk of the airwaves once again. So with celebration, and giving thanks in mind, I introduce to you Susan Stamberg, and The Kitchen Sisters.
Monday, November 17, 2008
The Pet Show's Euthanasia
First published at The Conversation
In its short life on the air in Washington D.C., Calling All Pets barked, chased, wagged its tail, and generally charmed the WAMU listeners into becoming lasting friends. And there were treats galore, also, during the membership campaigns when many listeners expressed their pleasure at having a pal on Saturday mornings.
It survived the questions from some in the public radio stratosphere who thought it not journalistically analytical or poker-faced enough to be on our air. To the contrary, I argued, we all need some fun on the weekends, especially the pet-mad citizens of the Washington area.
Alas, in the coming weeks we'll be replacing the show, which is no longer being produced by Wisconsin Public Radio. Right now, we're repeating the best programs for the Uber-fans, which is why you'll hear a message saying "don't call." Financially sustainable models for hour long public radio shows are hard to come by (there is a mere handful - Car Talk, Prairie, Wait Wait, etc) and Wisconsin simply couldn't sustain the costs to their listeners any longer (it was free to us, and other stations.)
Its success lay in its focus. It didn't obsess (as us pet lovers do) on arthritis problems, training techniques, or flea and tick medicine. It majored on helping the animal and human worlds understand, and compare, each others' behavior. It was really the closest public radio has come to a great show about psychology. Hence it attracted thousands of listeners who don't have pets, as well as those who do.
Like the cautious person I'm accused of being, I'll only say we're exploring all options. Producing our own animal program, or looking elsewhere for the 7 a.m. slot. But we'll miss the smile and the drooling tongue of Calling All Pets and, judging from the listening numbers, so will thousands of others.
Rest assured, it will be laid to rest in peace.
In its short life on the air in Washington D.C., Calling All Pets barked, chased, wagged its tail, and generally charmed the WAMU listeners into becoming lasting friends. And there were treats galore, also, during the membership campaigns when many listeners expressed their pleasure at having a pal on Saturday mornings.
It survived the questions from some in the public radio stratosphere who thought it not journalistically analytical or poker-faced enough to be on our air. To the contrary, I argued, we all need some fun on the weekends, especially the pet-mad citizens of the Washington area.
Alas, in the coming weeks we'll be replacing the show, which is no longer being produced by Wisconsin Public Radio. Right now, we're repeating the best programs for the Uber-fans, which is why you'll hear a message saying "don't call." Financially sustainable models for hour long public radio shows are hard to come by (there is a mere handful - Car Talk, Prairie, Wait Wait, etc) and Wisconsin simply couldn't sustain the costs to their listeners any longer (it was free to us, and other stations.)
Its success lay in its focus. It didn't obsess (as us pet lovers do) on arthritis problems, training techniques, or flea and tick medicine. It majored on helping the animal and human worlds understand, and compare, each others' behavior. It was really the closest public radio has come to a great show about psychology. Hence it attracted thousands of listeners who don't have pets, as well as those who do.
Like the cautious person I'm accused of being, I'll only say we're exploring all options. Producing our own animal program, or looking elsewhere for the 7 a.m. slot. But we'll miss the smile and the drooling tongue of Calling All Pets and, judging from the listening numbers, so will thousands of others.
Rest assured, it will be laid to rest in peace.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Watch Out for the Funeral
(Originally posted at WAMU's The Conversation )
I understand your confusion. You believed it was your inability to multi-task which posed the greatest risk on the roads in the District of Columbia. Those of us unable to eat a sandwich, make a phone call, have a shave and negotiate the Tenley Circle in rush hour all at once.
But you'd be wrong. Recently our marvellous au pair Oksana, who arrived on Independence Day with a spotless drivers' license from the Ukraine attempted to take what's enticingly called the "DC Knowledge Test."
Here - you have a go.
1. How much room should you leave while passing a cyclist? Four feet?, five feet?, three feet?
2. What is the maximum speed in a DC alley? 25 mph? 15mph? 10mph?
3. How close must you park to the kerb? Within 24 inches? Within 9 inches? Within 12 inches?
4. What is the minimum tread on your front tires? 4/32 ? 6/54? 3/36?
5. How far ahead of a right turn must you use your turn signal? 50 feet? 100 feet? 200 feet?
6. What do you do if there is a funeral ahead of you? (plough on through it, perhaps? or does it depend whose funeral?)
OK, I draw the line at that one, because as she completed the answers on the DMV computer, she began to think it was hers they were talking about. And, subsequently, she narrowly failed. We'll have to study the motorist's version of Trivial Pursuit a little harder.
Am I alone in thinking this is hard, or in the case of 6, obvious, and somewhat arbitrary? How many did you get right?
Those maniacs in white vans who overtake you on the South West freeway - do they really know this stuff?
Answers 3, 15,12,4/32,100
I understand your confusion. You believed it was your inability to multi-task which posed the greatest risk on the roads in the District of Columbia. Those of us unable to eat a sandwich, make a phone call, have a shave and negotiate the Tenley Circle in rush hour all at once.
But you'd be wrong. Recently our marvellous au pair Oksana, who arrived on Independence Day with a spotless drivers' license from the Ukraine attempted to take what's enticingly called the "DC Knowledge Test."
Here - you have a go.
1. How much room should you leave while passing a cyclist? Four feet?, five feet?, three feet?
2. What is the maximum speed in a DC alley? 25 mph? 15mph? 10mph?
3. How close must you park to the kerb? Within 24 inches? Within 9 inches? Within 12 inches?
4. What is the minimum tread on your front tires? 4/32 ? 6/54? 3/36?
5. How far ahead of a right turn must you use your turn signal? 50 feet? 100 feet? 200 feet?
6. What do you do if there is a funeral ahead of you? (plough on through it, perhaps? or does it depend whose funeral?)
OK, I draw the line at that one, because as she completed the answers on the DMV computer, she began to think it was hers they were talking about. And, subsequently, she narrowly failed. We'll have to study the motorist's version of Trivial Pursuit a little harder.
Am I alone in thinking this is hard, or in the case of 6, obvious, and somewhat arbitrary? How many did you get right?
Those maniacs in white vans who overtake you on the South West freeway - do they really know this stuff?
Answers 3, 15,12,4/32,100
Monday, October 27, 2008
News Judgement for Dissidents
Thanks to the columnist Cal Thomas, I'm reminded that Alexander Solzhenitsyn didn't spend all his time campaigning against the ruthlessness of the Soviet Union.
The dissident, who died recently at the age of 89, also had a great deal to say about the western media:
"People have the right not to know" he wrote in 1978. "The right not to have their divine souls stuffed with gossip, nonsense, vain talk. A person who leads a meaningful life does not need this excessive burdening flow of information."
I read this guilt-inducing assertion after retiring for the day from a hot beach in South Carolina this past summer. Guilty, because in our air-conditioned vacation apartment I felt the need for my daily fix, and weakened to watch the drama-laden instantaneous babble of evening cable news.
The endless speculative punditry about the Obama campaign's next response to the McCain campaign's response to the last Obama campaign attack ad, reminded me of one of my rare dissenting acts during my tenure as a BBC News producer in New York, an organization which is usually very good at deciding what we don't need to know.
I had refused London's instruction to charter an executive jet to fly to the Carribean Island of Mustique where the late Princess Margaret, a storied and colorful but self-indulgent and isolated member of the British royal family was about to undergo a minor operation on her nose. This was a low point of one of the BBC's more paranoid periods, when they convinced themselves they had to compete with the tabloid press by masking celebrity-driven stories with some perceived social significance. Unfortunately, the jet was chartered by our Washington office, filled with reporters and producers who could have been more productively employed, and this insignificant nonsense, paid for at the BBC listeners' expense, hit the air; soon (of course) to be forgotten.For the record, amidst the worldwide human misery that BBC correspondents cover on an hourly basis, this was very much an aberration in judgment. Which brings me back to Solzhenitzyn.
He knew thirty years ago that much of the drivel masquerading as "news" can be safely ignored. Which is why the choices serious journalists and broadcasters make in what, and what not, to cover, are critical.
Not only are we spending listeners' money wisely (reminder to colleagues, they pay our wages) but they trust us to make informed choices about what is significant, educational, or simply helpful, and what is not, so their valuable time isn't wasted.
Memo to vacationing self: less "Hardball", more beach volleyball next summer.
The dissident, who died recently at the age of 89, also had a great deal to say about the western media:
"People have the right not to know" he wrote in 1978. "The right not to have their divine souls stuffed with gossip, nonsense, vain talk. A person who leads a meaningful life does not need this excessive burdening flow of information."
I read this guilt-inducing assertion after retiring for the day from a hot beach in South Carolina this past summer. Guilty, because in our air-conditioned vacation apartment I felt the need for my daily fix, and weakened to watch the drama-laden instantaneous babble of evening cable news.
The endless speculative punditry about the Obama campaign's next response to the McCain campaign's response to the last Obama campaign attack ad, reminded me of one of my rare dissenting acts during my tenure as a BBC News producer in New York, an organization which is usually very good at deciding what we don't need to know.
I had refused London's instruction to charter an executive jet to fly to the Carribean Island of Mustique where the late Princess Margaret, a storied and colorful but self-indulgent and isolated member of the British royal family was about to undergo a minor operation on her nose. This was a low point of one of the BBC's more paranoid periods, when they convinced themselves they had to compete with the tabloid press by masking celebrity-driven stories with some perceived social significance. Unfortunately, the jet was chartered by our Washington office, filled with reporters and producers who could have been more productively employed, and this insignificant nonsense, paid for at the BBC listeners' expense, hit the air; soon (of course) to be forgotten.For the record, amidst the worldwide human misery that BBC correspondents cover on an hourly basis, this was very much an aberration in judgment. Which brings me back to Solzhenitzyn.
He knew thirty years ago that much of the drivel masquerading as "news" can be safely ignored. Which is why the choices serious journalists and broadcasters make in what, and what not, to cover, are critical.
Not only are we spending listeners' money wisely (reminder to colleagues, they pay our wages) but they trust us to make informed choices about what is significant, educational, or simply helpful, and what is not, so their valuable time isn't wasted.
Memo to vacationing self: less "Hardball", more beach volleyball next summer.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Would your blind friend like a drink?
First published at WAMU's The Conversation.
When I was in college in England I had a friend who was blind. George had been struck with a blunt object when he was a young boy. He had little recollection of having seen anything. Going to the pub with George, however, was always fun. George knew how to enjoy a drink, but ordinary British pub-going folk were oftentimes too intimidated by his disability to proposition him directly. "I'd love to buy him a drink....." they would say. "Then ask him if he wants one..." would be my response. He usually did. Then they would offer him cash. "Put it in the poor box" George would say.
At least they noticed him.
I remembered this while I waited on a tense, crowded, heated, and quite terrifying platform at Washington DC's Metro Center on Thursday night, to change from the Red Line to the Blue/Orange. The colored route terminology, of course, makes life no easier for the visually-challenged, but never mind.
A young African-American woman dressed in a sharp gray suit and solid heels was trying to cut her way through the crowd with her long white stick. A mass of preoccupied, twittering, texting, and simultaneously spacially-challenged citizens of the District formed a wall in front of her and she wavered and wandered down the platform towards a brick barrier underneath the escalator bank. "Are you OK miss?" I asked pathetically before she banged into the station wall. "I'm trying to find my way out" she laughed with the sort of ironic sense-of-humor which is a prerequisite of the partially sighted if they are seeking help.
I took her arm and tried to steer her towards the escalator entrance. Still the home-going masses poured forward oblivious and preoccupied. From the other direction came another stick-wielding partially-sighted person. In a scene which would have been much more marketable in the days before political correctness in slapstick comedy, they collided in front of the down escalator and I narrowly averted a mass-casualty disaster by physically manhandling the pair of them onto the up-escalator. As the "Metro Customers" going down carried on regardless, I made a note to strengthen my personal liability insurance (at least I could read the small print).
On the return journey a blue-eyed, silver-haired, slim and smartly-dressed young man was waiting on the platform at the spot where the very back of the metro train should stop. He was wheel-chair bound. When the train came in, it was full. Again, the masses poured out, and their replacement masses poured in. I beckoned the man to go ahead but he saw the crowd inside the carriage and gestured me to get in before him. Fortunately, a gap appeared by accident and he inched his vehicle inside.
The message is clear. If you are disabled, don't travel during rush-hour. You'll risk even more inhumanity than usual. Unless you have to, of course.
When I was in college in England I had a friend who was blind. George had been struck with a blunt object when he was a young boy. He had little recollection of having seen anything. Going to the pub with George, however, was always fun. George knew how to enjoy a drink, but ordinary British pub-going folk were oftentimes too intimidated by his disability to proposition him directly. "I'd love to buy him a drink....." they would say. "Then ask him if he wants one..." would be my response. He usually did. Then they would offer him cash. "Put it in the poor box" George would say.
At least they noticed him.
I remembered this while I waited on a tense, crowded, heated, and quite terrifying platform at Washington DC's Metro Center on Thursday night, to change from the Red Line to the Blue/Orange. The colored route terminology, of course, makes life no easier for the visually-challenged, but never mind.
A young African-American woman dressed in a sharp gray suit and solid heels was trying to cut her way through the crowd with her long white stick. A mass of preoccupied, twittering, texting, and simultaneously spacially-challenged citizens of the District formed a wall in front of her and she wavered and wandered down the platform towards a brick barrier underneath the escalator bank. "Are you OK miss?" I asked pathetically before she banged into the station wall. "I'm trying to find my way out" she laughed with the sort of ironic sense-of-humor which is a prerequisite of the partially sighted if they are seeking help.
I took her arm and tried to steer her towards the escalator entrance. Still the home-going masses poured forward oblivious and preoccupied. From the other direction came another stick-wielding partially-sighted person. In a scene which would have been much more marketable in the days before political correctness in slapstick comedy, they collided in front of the down escalator and I narrowly averted a mass-casualty disaster by physically manhandling the pair of them onto the up-escalator. As the "Metro Customers" going down carried on regardless, I made a note to strengthen my personal liability insurance (at least I could read the small print).
On the return journey a blue-eyed, silver-haired, slim and smartly-dressed young man was waiting on the platform at the spot where the very back of the metro train should stop. He was wheel-chair bound. When the train came in, it was full. Again, the masses poured out, and their replacement masses poured in. I beckoned the man to go ahead but he saw the crowd inside the carriage and gestured me to get in before him. Fortunately, a gap appeared by accident and he inched his vehicle inside.
The message is clear. If you are disabled, don't travel during rush-hour. You'll risk even more inhumanity than usual. Unless you have to, of course.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Egg Stains, Halloween and Headaches
(First published at www.theconversation.wamu.org)
As I become more aware of my own aging process the feast of All Hallows serves as a reminder of a particular social divide which permeates ours, and probably everyone else's, workplace.
I'm privileged to have been invited to a plethora of Halloween parties this year. Some will be those great adult affairs of outrageous costumes and copious amounts of alcohol. Others are pizza and neighborhood trick or treating with the kids and the golden retriever. Much as my alter ego might yearn for the former, as a parent I am compelled to the latter, although some socially conscious friends are offering "combo" parties which start with the kids and end with the booze.
But there's no escaping it. With a beautiful five-year-old and a charmingly mischievous two-year-old I am a fully paid-up member of our office's secret society - the parents. You know us. We're the ones who talk in hushed tones around each other's desks about nannies and insurance and school applications.
We waver between guilt and innocence. One moment I am self-righteous, dumping the "Unfunded Priorities" meeting for a minor toothache and expecting everyone else to rearrange their schedules. Next, the vulnerable victim who, after a sleepless night of wailing and screaming from the crib, creeps around the office medical box in search of aspirin to the sound of guffaws from colleagues about hangovers.
There are the stifled yawns during meetings. The nervous twitch towards the vibrating cell phone. Then there was the day I showed up with chocolate all down my pants (yes - you guessed where), and the afternoon when I opened a spreadsheet to demonstrate a work flow diagram with a giant egg-yolk stain apparently strategically placed down the center.
There is no escape. Most of my co-workers tolerate my erraticism. Let's face it; they don't have any other option. But some of my (mostly) younger, single, colleagues are nonplussed. And every now and then, just occasionally, I yearn for the day when I was nonplussed, too. Was it really that long ago?
But then I remember I'm going trick or treating, with orange juice to follow.
As I become more aware of my own aging process the feast of All Hallows serves as a reminder of a particular social divide which permeates ours, and probably everyone else's, workplace.
I'm privileged to have been invited to a plethora of Halloween parties this year. Some will be those great adult affairs of outrageous costumes and copious amounts of alcohol. Others are pizza and neighborhood trick or treating with the kids and the golden retriever. Much as my alter ego might yearn for the former, as a parent I am compelled to the latter, although some socially conscious friends are offering "combo" parties which start with the kids and end with the booze.
But there's no escaping it. With a beautiful five-year-old and a charmingly mischievous two-year-old I am a fully paid-up member of our office's secret society - the parents. You know us. We're the ones who talk in hushed tones around each other's desks about nannies and insurance and school applications.
We waver between guilt and innocence. One moment I am self-righteous, dumping the "Unfunded Priorities" meeting for a minor toothache and expecting everyone else to rearrange their schedules. Next, the vulnerable victim who, after a sleepless night of wailing and screaming from the crib, creeps around the office medical box in search of aspirin to the sound of guffaws from colleagues about hangovers.
There are the stifled yawns during meetings. The nervous twitch towards the vibrating cell phone. Then there was the day I showed up with chocolate all down my pants (yes - you guessed where), and the afternoon when I opened a spreadsheet to demonstrate a work flow diagram with a giant egg-yolk stain apparently strategically placed down the center.
There is no escape. Most of my co-workers tolerate my erraticism. Let's face it; they don't have any other option. But some of my (mostly) younger, single, colleagues are nonplussed. And every now and then, just occasionally, I yearn for the day when I was nonplussed, too. Was it really that long ago?
But then I remember I'm going trick or treating, with orange juice to follow.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Become a Citizen Journalist
Here are two easy ways to become a Citizen Journalist. Go to AskYourLawmaker.org (below) and pose a question. Or visit Meymo Lyons' section of the My Conversation interactive site at WAMU, Washington's Public Radio news station, and suggest a topic or story, and provide information and contacts if you have them.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Young reporters follow in the master's footsteps
On the same day Tim Russert died our Youth Voices class graduated at the National Press Club with their families in the audience.
As usual, we played the five feature stories which will air on WAMU and on our website in the coming weeks to the audience in the First Amendment Lounge. Several alums customarily returned to lend their support to the class.
The Youth Voices project is modeled on one pioneered by Marianne McCune at the New York public radio station, WNYC. The last team won the 2008 Silver Communicator Award from the International Academy of the Visual Arts
http://www.wamu.org/about/press/08/yvcommunicator.php
The graduation ceremony is increasingly poignant for me because when we launched Youth Voices at WAMU there was some skepticism, both from listeners and from within. “Why are you putting those kids on the air?” was a persistent question.
Five years on and this reaction has come full circle as listeners hear beyond the youthful, diverse and often inexperienced voices to the person reporting the story and the issue itself. And a galvanizing bi-product is that members of staff from all over WAMU (and from the wider American University community) offer their skills and time to help out – looking for sponsorship, negotiating for facilities, coaching microphone skills, offering transport, or simply an encouraging word to a student in the frenetic and intimidating workspace of a radio newsroom.
But what’s most important is what hits the air. And thanks to the professional backroom team as well as the reporters, it is public radio investigative journalism of the highest quality, tackling crucial subjects which are often overlooked by us “grown-up” broadcasters, and focus-grouped out of the news agendas of commercial mass media organizations.
The incredible journeys homeless young people have to embark on to fight for survival; whether school uniforms foster discipline or frustrate creativity; why the media keeps howling about the coming of the apocalypse; why coverage of scientific advance doesn’t necessarily have to be about curing MY ailment to be interesting; and why the doctors and the drugs companies have collided to produce an addicted group of thousands of youngsters.
In some of these features, the stresses and challenges confronting our younger generation are evidenced through the subject chosen, and the intelligent script and delivery.
They are never expressed with resignation or frustration, but utilizing genuine, young, humor.
Tim Russert would have approved mightily of the depth of research the young reporters undertook, the professionalism with which they carried out their mission, and the sense of accomplishment, and privilege, to which they all attested publicly in their acceptance speeches. And contrary to what one prominent New York Times columnist wrote this morning (Monday) I’m confident he wasn’t the last one of a kind.
As usual, we played the five feature stories which will air on WAMU and on our website in the coming weeks to the audience in the First Amendment Lounge. Several alums customarily returned to lend their support to the class.
The Youth Voices project is modeled on one pioneered by Marianne McCune at the New York public radio station, WNYC. The last team won the 2008 Silver Communicator Award from the International Academy of the Visual Arts
http://www.wamu.org/about/press/08/yvcommunicator.php
The graduation ceremony is increasingly poignant for me because when we launched Youth Voices at WAMU there was some skepticism, both from listeners and from within. “Why are you putting those kids on the air?” was a persistent question.
Five years on and this reaction has come full circle as listeners hear beyond the youthful, diverse and often inexperienced voices to the person reporting the story and the issue itself. And a galvanizing bi-product is that members of staff from all over WAMU (and from the wider American University community) offer their skills and time to help out – looking for sponsorship, negotiating for facilities, coaching microphone skills, offering transport, or simply an encouraging word to a student in the frenetic and intimidating workspace of a radio newsroom.
But what’s most important is what hits the air. And thanks to the professional backroom team as well as the reporters, it is public radio investigative journalism of the highest quality, tackling crucial subjects which are often overlooked by us “grown-up” broadcasters, and focus-grouped out of the news agendas of commercial mass media organizations.
The incredible journeys homeless young people have to embark on to fight for survival; whether school uniforms foster discipline or frustrate creativity; why the media keeps howling about the coming of the apocalypse; why coverage of scientific advance doesn’t necessarily have to be about curing MY ailment to be interesting; and why the doctors and the drugs companies have collided to produce an addicted group of thousands of youngsters.
In some of these features, the stresses and challenges confronting our younger generation are evidenced through the subject chosen, and the intelligent script and delivery.
They are never expressed with resignation or frustration, but utilizing genuine, young, humor.
Tim Russert would have approved mightily of the depth of research the young reporters undertook, the professionalism with which they carried out their mission, and the sense of accomplishment, and privilege, to which they all attested publicly in their acceptance speeches. And contrary to what one prominent New York Times columnist wrote this morning (Monday) I’m confident he wasn’t the last one of a kind.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
My Banking Fantasy
First published at http://www.theconversation.wamu.org
Dear Mr. Calamity Bank Executive,
First of all, we offer our sincere condolences over the collapse of your banking empire. Incompetence, greed, and poor decision-making surrounded you in the marketplace, and conspired against the prudent decisions you made throughout your illustrious years with the Calamity Bank. During that time, you took a humble side street mortgage brokerage and made it into a Wall Street titan through sheer daring, and a great deal of customers' money. Sheer bad fortune and meddling politicians conspired for your downfall.
The good news is, as citizen shareholders of the new American Bank of Taxpayers' Revenge (ABTR), we are delighted to welcome you as a new customer.
First of all, we're allowing you an overdraft facility of $10,000. This will be at an interest rate of 29.99 per cent, is secured on your reduced retirement assets and your condo in Virgin Gorda, and is freezable at any time we choose.
I am also happy to confirm we are issuing you with our new gold-embossed credit card. I am delighted you chose the picture of the window-leaping stock-broker for your image, and the flexible 31.5% rate of interest. Please be careful when going on vacations lasting more than four days. A 24-hour delay in payment will lead to a doubling of your interest rate and adversely affect your credit score. You'll be delighted to learn that we will subsequently be bombarding you with junk mail and junk email offering you dubious new ways to over-stretch your finances in the future.
In any event, from time to time, we will need to consult Equifax to confirm your credit score. This inquiry will, in itself, lead to a reduction in that credit score, and your rate of interest may increase as a result.
Once again, welcome to the American Bank of Taxpayers' Revenge. If you have any questions, our 24-hour "Bankers Away" call center is at your disposal. After listening to four lengthy automated messages, and repeating your account number three times, you will be placed on hold until someone in New Delhi is available to speak with you.
Please note; this letter, and the 92-thousand sub-clauses you will find in 4-point italics in the enclosed brochure, will serve as a binding agreement between you and our powerful firm of international lawyers. Please read it carefully. Especially if careful is a word you have only recently heard.
Dear Mr. Calamity Bank Executive,
First of all, we offer our sincere condolences over the collapse of your banking empire. Incompetence, greed, and poor decision-making surrounded you in the marketplace, and conspired against the prudent decisions you made throughout your illustrious years with the Calamity Bank. During that time, you took a humble side street mortgage brokerage and made it into a Wall Street titan through sheer daring, and a great deal of customers' money. Sheer bad fortune and meddling politicians conspired for your downfall.
The good news is, as citizen shareholders of the new American Bank of Taxpayers' Revenge (ABTR), we are delighted to welcome you as a new customer.
First of all, we're allowing you an overdraft facility of $10,000. This will be at an interest rate of 29.99 per cent, is secured on your reduced retirement assets and your condo in Virgin Gorda, and is freezable at any time we choose.
I am also happy to confirm we are issuing you with our new gold-embossed credit card. I am delighted you chose the picture of the window-leaping stock-broker for your image, and the flexible 31.5% rate of interest. Please be careful when going on vacations lasting more than four days. A 24-hour delay in payment will lead to a doubling of your interest rate and adversely affect your credit score. You'll be delighted to learn that we will subsequently be bombarding you with junk mail and junk email offering you dubious new ways to over-stretch your finances in the future.
In any event, from time to time, we will need to consult Equifax to confirm your credit score. This inquiry will, in itself, lead to a reduction in that credit score, and your rate of interest may increase as a result.
Once again, welcome to the American Bank of Taxpayers' Revenge. If you have any questions, our 24-hour "Bankers Away" call center is at your disposal. After listening to four lengthy automated messages, and repeating your account number three times, you will be placed on hold until someone in New Delhi is available to speak with you.
Please note; this letter, and the 92-thousand sub-clauses you will find in 4-point italics in the enclosed brochure, will serve as a binding agreement between you and our powerful firm of international lawyers. Please read it carefully. Especially if careful is a word you have only recently heard.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
NPR grabs karaoke mic, sings "My Way"
FIRST PUBLISHED AT MY STATION'S INTERACTIVE WEBSITE, http://conversation.wamu.org
PLEASE SIGN-UP !
About once a week, I get an email from a listener who is frustrated that we "covered up" an NPR segment with "insignificant" local news, arts, traffic, or weather.
If you share this sentiment, I have some good news for you.
NPR has signaled its intentions to forge ahead with its multi-million dollar expansion of NPR.ORG, this week launching its own version of The Conversation and announcing a $2.5 million training scheme for its reporters to learn how to write and shoot pictures for the web.
I saw a similar type of "convergence" happen at the BBC when the News Division merged radio and TV and made reporters file for both. Some took to it, some didn't. One unforgiving TV manager, appraising an erstwhile radio reporter's work on camera, coined the phrase "you definitely have a face for radio".
Then the web arrived and BBC reporters now have to file there, too. This undoubtedly increases reporter efficiency in covering stories across several media, but there are still frequent complaints from the reporters and producers that they have less and less time to gather the facts, background and color they need because they're too busy filing. Consequently, quality sometimes suffers.
But for public radio devotees, this will increase choice. There will be program options, platforms, and resources at NPR.ORG which local public stations can't replicate via plain old radio transmitters. Thanks to the web, for the first time NPR is a broadcaster in its own right. And if we cover-up Frank Deford with a local story, you can get him at NPR.ORG.
This is a brave new world for all of us in public broadcasting and I'd like to be able to say there's been a thorough debate and dialogue on these issues within the industry. But there hasn't. And NPR's strategy will lead to huge challenges for stations. Will NPR.ORG lure listeners away from our signal and onto the NPR website? Will members then decide to contribute less during membership campaigns, or to give elsewhere? If our audience numbers fall, will potential corporate sponsors find WAMU less attractive? And, as a result, will NPR's nose spite its face, since 60% of NPR's revenue comes from its member stations?
Aware of the concerns, NPR has been a supportive partner with local stations in other new media ventures. Thanks to these collaborations, you can get WAMU news updates on your mobile phone, or hear a podcast of Diane, Kojo or Metro Connection.
My belief is that its both sense of place, and sense of identity, which will ensure the survival of local stations, and are probably key to the success of NPR.ORG, as well. In the ears and minds of listeners, public radio stands for original content, properly sourced information, decency, constructive dialogue, good citizenry, and, in the stations' case, localism.
I've recently dabbled in the online community "Twitter". While there is the occasional gem of a contribution, most of the dialogue centers on relaying information gathered by others (websites, TV shows, blogs) or self-centered trivia from users concerned about their over-use of sugar substitutes in coffee and the like.
The challenge is to originate strong programs, and build on our unique strengths while maintaining our authenticity. We will stand or fall on our ability to deliver distinctive programs which truly belong to the WAMU Community. Hot Jazz Saturday Night, The Kojo Nnamdi Show, and The Big Broadcast are today's examples. But we'll need to be constantly inventive going forward. WAMU can do on air and on the web what NPR cannot - put Washington D.C.'s citizens at the center of the universe.
For all the debate about distribution platforms, it's still all about the content, not where it resides. And we're still your local station.
PLEASE SIGN-UP !
About once a week, I get an email from a listener who is frustrated that we "covered up" an NPR segment with "insignificant" local news, arts, traffic, or weather.
If you share this sentiment, I have some good news for you.
NPR has signaled its intentions to forge ahead with its multi-million dollar expansion of NPR.ORG, this week launching its own version of The Conversation and announcing a $2.5 million training scheme for its reporters to learn how to write and shoot pictures for the web.
I saw a similar type of "convergence" happen at the BBC when the News Division merged radio and TV and made reporters file for both. Some took to it, some didn't. One unforgiving TV manager, appraising an erstwhile radio reporter's work on camera, coined the phrase "you definitely have a face for radio".
Then the web arrived and BBC reporters now have to file there, too. This undoubtedly increases reporter efficiency in covering stories across several media, but there are still frequent complaints from the reporters and producers that they have less and less time to gather the facts, background and color they need because they're too busy filing. Consequently, quality sometimes suffers.
But for public radio devotees, this will increase choice. There will be program options, platforms, and resources at NPR.ORG which local public stations can't replicate via plain old radio transmitters. Thanks to the web, for the first time NPR is a broadcaster in its own right. And if we cover-up Frank Deford with a local story, you can get him at NPR.ORG.
This is a brave new world for all of us in public broadcasting and I'd like to be able to say there's been a thorough debate and dialogue on these issues within the industry. But there hasn't. And NPR's strategy will lead to huge challenges for stations. Will NPR.ORG lure listeners away from our signal and onto the NPR website? Will members then decide to contribute less during membership campaigns, or to give elsewhere? If our audience numbers fall, will potential corporate sponsors find WAMU less attractive? And, as a result, will NPR's nose spite its face, since 60% of NPR's revenue comes from its member stations?
Aware of the concerns, NPR has been a supportive partner with local stations in other new media ventures. Thanks to these collaborations, you can get WAMU news updates on your mobile phone, or hear a podcast of Diane, Kojo or Metro Connection.
My belief is that its both sense of place, and sense of identity, which will ensure the survival of local stations, and are probably key to the success of NPR.ORG, as well. In the ears and minds of listeners, public radio stands for original content, properly sourced information, decency, constructive dialogue, good citizenry, and, in the stations' case, localism.
I've recently dabbled in the online community "Twitter". While there is the occasional gem of a contribution, most of the dialogue centers on relaying information gathered by others (websites, TV shows, blogs) or self-centered trivia from users concerned about their over-use of sugar substitutes in coffee and the like.
The challenge is to originate strong programs, and build on our unique strengths while maintaining our authenticity. We will stand or fall on our ability to deliver distinctive programs which truly belong to the WAMU Community. Hot Jazz Saturday Night, The Kojo Nnamdi Show, and The Big Broadcast are today's examples. But we'll need to be constantly inventive going forward. WAMU can do on air and on the web what NPR cannot - put Washington D.C.'s citizens at the center of the universe.
For all the debate about distribution platforms, it's still all about the content, not where it resides. And we're still your local station.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Radio fears "zero sales situations" with PPM
The science of estimating the size of the American radio audience is getting a lot more complex and interesting, or a lot scarier, depending on your perspective.
Arbitron, the company with a monopoly on measuring our listening habits, is rolling out its Portable People Meter, or as they said at its Washington, D.C. launch this morning "technology is catching up with reality."
Here's how it works currently: a couple of thousand people, a cross section of life in the DC area, dutifully fill out diaries telling researchers what they listen to, and when, for the honor of being a good media citizen plus a few bucks in change. The diaries are collated and the results extrapolated to estimate how many people listen to which station, which program, etc, and for how long. Program Directors make scheduling decisions based (partly) on the data and how it trends over time. The biggest problem: people forget or exaggerate their listening habits.
Under the new system, panelists (1300 of them in the DC area) will wear electronic devices about their persons (apparently you will be able to get a Redskins logo on yours) which will beam information back ultimately to Arbitron HQ, telling the analysts exactly what the wearers are listening to, even when they're asleep. The problem here: dropping the thing down the lavatory by accident, or walking into your local CVS and being exposed on the PA system to a music station you'd never choose for yourself. In other words, it measures hearing, not active listening, which is what the public radio audience does best.
There will be much more data for us to analyze, broken down by the minutes, if necessary. So, in theory, we should be able to make quicker, and more accurate scheduling decisions to please the WAMU audience. It measures both analogue and HD stations, web streams, podcasts, the whole nine yards, unlike the diaries which only estimated old-fashioned radio. And because the numbers will be much more specific, a boring talk show guest could be denied a repeat invitation on the basis of the audience numbers for his particular appearance.
At this morning's launch, the new methodology came with its own corporate buzz-language. The phrase "quarterly characteristic update" was new to me but I promised to remember it. Apparently, when a panelist goes AWOL, Arbitron provides counseling to assist the individual in getting back on the wagon (or, in this case, back listening to Diane). "Zero sales situations" was another memorable catch-phrase which sent a visible tingle down the spine of my colleague Anthony Hayes, WAMU's Director of Corporate Marketing, who sat next to me. Presumably it means nada in the door dollar-wise if the agencies who buy airtime see listener levels falling. The forced CVS listening, by the way, is called "incidental cume", which sounds more like something I might request at the pharmacy counter, but never mind.
Results in the early adopter markets appear consistent. There are bigger overall listening numbers for many commercial and public stations, but most folks seem to be listening for a shorter time than was previously thought. In New York, some of the stations with predominantly African American or Hispanic audiences say they're being short-changed by the new data and are taking Arbitron to court.
Meantime, a questionable change is the decision to measure the listening habits of everyone over six years of age, bringing the Barbie Doll target market into play. Under the old system, the lowest age was twelve. As an Arbitron Vice President said from the platform this morning, the ad agencies want to "find ways to monetize kids."
Welcome to my new world.
Arbitron, the company with a monopoly on measuring our listening habits, is rolling out its Portable People Meter, or as they said at its Washington, D.C. launch this morning "technology is catching up with reality."
Here's how it works currently: a couple of thousand people, a cross section of life in the DC area, dutifully fill out diaries telling researchers what they listen to, and when, for the honor of being a good media citizen plus a few bucks in change. The diaries are collated and the results extrapolated to estimate how many people listen to which station, which program, etc, and for how long. Program Directors make scheduling decisions based (partly) on the data and how it trends over time. The biggest problem: people forget or exaggerate their listening habits.
Under the new system, panelists (1300 of them in the DC area) will wear electronic devices about their persons (apparently you will be able to get a Redskins logo on yours) which will beam information back ultimately to Arbitron HQ, telling the analysts exactly what the wearers are listening to, even when they're asleep. The problem here: dropping the thing down the lavatory by accident, or walking into your local CVS and being exposed on the PA system to a music station you'd never choose for yourself. In other words, it measures hearing, not active listening, which is what the public radio audience does best.
There will be much more data for us to analyze, broken down by the minutes, if necessary. So, in theory, we should be able to make quicker, and more accurate scheduling decisions to please the WAMU audience. It measures both analogue and HD stations, web streams, podcasts, the whole nine yards, unlike the diaries which only estimated old-fashioned radio. And because the numbers will be much more specific, a boring talk show guest could be denied a repeat invitation on the basis of the audience numbers for his particular appearance.
At this morning's launch, the new methodology came with its own corporate buzz-language. The phrase "quarterly characteristic update" was new to me but I promised to remember it. Apparently, when a panelist goes AWOL, Arbitron provides counseling to assist the individual in getting back on the wagon (or, in this case, back listening to Diane). "Zero sales situations" was another memorable catch-phrase which sent a visible tingle down the spine of my colleague Anthony Hayes, WAMU's Director of Corporate Marketing, who sat next to me. Presumably it means nada in the door dollar-wise if the agencies who buy airtime see listener levels falling. The forced CVS listening, by the way, is called "incidental cume", which sounds more like something I might request at the pharmacy counter, but never mind.
Results in the early adopter markets appear consistent. There are bigger overall listening numbers for many commercial and public stations, but most folks seem to be listening for a shorter time than was previously thought. In New York, some of the stations with predominantly African American or Hispanic audiences say they're being short-changed by the new data and are taking Arbitron to court.
Meantime, a questionable change is the decision to measure the listening habits of everyone over six years of age, bringing the Barbie Doll target market into play. Under the old system, the lowest age was twelve. As an Arbitron Vice President said from the platform this morning, the ad agencies want to "find ways to monetize kids."
Welcome to my new world.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Stop obsessing on the canvas and fix the painting
Almost as though we have no right to acclaim the success of public radio in doubling its audience over the past decade, many industry leaders are predicting its eminent demise at the hands of the web, and those frightening and unthathomable aliens driving its expansion, the nation's young media consumers.
Take this piece of neurotic recreational worry from Robert Paterson, a knowledgeable leading public radio consultant who shares many of my public radio "core values". For those friends of mine (most of them over forty, of course) who are too impetuous, obsessive-compulsive and gadget-obsessed to click on the previous link, here's the nutgraph of Rob's panic:-
"As stations diet to death, what happens to NPR? They themselves also implode as their market shrinks, costs mount and underwriting and revenues shrink. They too go into bailing/survival mode. All now depends on ME. What about the [NPR's proposed] new building? Anything that does not pay today's bill, has to get cut. That includes the future!"
His premise is that traditional public radio will be gobbled up by the web, and that we must all focus on the new "delivery platforms", or die.
I don't know many public radio stations with some modicum of resources who are not focussed on this. Its why we launched The Conversation. Other sophisticated sites like NPR.ORG and WNYC,ORG offer interaction, news, information, audio, podcasts, blogs, streaming, and archives. Many stations communicate daily by email with their listeners. Like BluegrassCountry, many public stations now have cutting-edge online streams and theme-specific podcasts.
What gives them a head start? Good content, and good journalism. Which is why the best public radio (whatever it is called in the future) will survive and Rob should get some apparently much-needed sleep. Consumers will find the good stuff if its available in the right places. Which is why we've developed three different HD stations; you can talk to Diane online, download the Kojo Nnamdi Show to listen to later, or retrieve a news report in script form to share with your friends.
Here's what we really need to worry about in public radio; the content needs to be more surprising, renewed, rejuvenated, innovative, of wider and more diverse appeal, funnier, and striving constantly to stay relevant. But its the content that counts, not the platform. The job of public radio's leaders is continually to question and reevaluate the quality, scope and reach of its journalism and entertainment. Are NPR doing a good job reporting the news? Are we talking to our listeners in a way they value and appreciate us? How can we do better in our local newsroom? Are we covering the election in-depth, offering material not heard elsewhere, generating exclusive or original stories, in an appropriate and balanced way?
Lets concentrate on continuing to offer broadcast material which captivates citizens and highlights the challenges facing our nation today, and invest appropriately in the exciting emerging technology. That's the business model. And lets give our bright young broadcast professionals space to be creative, and not panic about the canvas on which they will paint.
Take this piece of neurotic recreational worry from Robert Paterson, a knowledgeable leading public radio consultant who shares many of my public radio "core values". For those friends of mine (most of them over forty, of course) who are too impetuous, obsessive-compulsive and gadget-obsessed to click on the previous link, here's the nutgraph of Rob's panic:-
"As stations diet to death, what happens to NPR? They themselves also implode as their market shrinks, costs mount and underwriting and revenues shrink. They too go into bailing/survival mode. All now depends on ME. What about the [NPR's proposed] new building? Anything that does not pay today's bill, has to get cut. That includes the future!"
His premise is that traditional public radio will be gobbled up by the web, and that we must all focus on the new "delivery platforms", or die.
I don't know many public radio stations with some modicum of resources who are not focussed on this. Its why we launched The Conversation. Other sophisticated sites like NPR.ORG and WNYC,ORG offer interaction, news, information, audio, podcasts, blogs, streaming, and archives. Many stations communicate daily by email with their listeners. Like BluegrassCountry, many public stations now have cutting-edge online streams and theme-specific podcasts.
What gives them a head start? Good content, and good journalism. Which is why the best public radio (whatever it is called in the future) will survive and Rob should get some apparently much-needed sleep. Consumers will find the good stuff if its available in the right places. Which is why we've developed three different HD stations; you can talk to Diane online, download the Kojo Nnamdi Show to listen to later, or retrieve a news report in script form to share with your friends.
Here's what we really need to worry about in public radio; the content needs to be more surprising, renewed, rejuvenated, innovative, of wider and more diverse appeal, funnier, and striving constantly to stay relevant. But its the content that counts, not the platform. The job of public radio's leaders is continually to question and reevaluate the quality, scope and reach of its journalism and entertainment. Are NPR doing a good job reporting the news? Are we talking to our listeners in a way they value and appreciate us? How can we do better in our local newsroom? Are we covering the election in-depth, offering material not heard elsewhere, generating exclusive or original stories, in an appropriate and balanced way?
Lets concentrate on continuing to offer broadcast material which captivates citizens and highlights the challenges facing our nation today, and invest appropriately in the exciting emerging technology. That's the business model. And lets give our bright young broadcast professionals space to be creative, and not panic about the canvas on which they will paint.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Serious Journalism from Condit to Karadzic
I' read the Washington Post's curiously-timed series reconstructing the events surrounding the unsolved murder of DC intern Chandra Levy more than seven years ago. As an aside, I must confess I've always thought it would make a great "ripped-from-the-headlines" Columbo:
"O, Mr. Condit, just one more thing Sir. Er, Congressman, did you ever go to Klingle Mansion? my wife loves it there."
But it was a deeply disturbing event in modern DC history, and in WAMU's Newsroom we gave it appropriate local news coverage to solicit information from people who knew Chandra, who may have come across her, or who may have seen her. But ultimately, and especially after her body was discovered more than a year later, the saga received far more press than it, or any participant (including her family) wanted or deserved.
The American media's ill-proportioned judgment on the Levy murder was drowned weeks later by the September 11th attacks, which demonstrated in a cruel irony that they had failed to prepare their readers, viewers and listeners for a nation-challenging event, preferring - as they had done - to cling to human interest and consumer-driven news. Then in the aftermath of 9/11 there was a naive consternation born of an ignorance of global change and a self-deluded arrogance about what mattered to regular folks. It amounted to a crude demonstration of just how much this country's journalists let down its people by failing to warn them of the potential perils they faced.
Seven years on, and I worry that the Post's reconstruction of the Chandra Levy murder might be evidence that history's ignorance might be repeating itself.
As a BBC producer in Europe in the early 1990's I met some of the victims of Radovan Karadzic, the architect of "ethnic cleansing" and described by the heroically brutish American diplomat Richard Holbrook as "one of the worst men in the world", who was arrested this past summer after years of hiding from justice abetted by the guilty and powerful of the Balkans. He's accused (among a lot of other horrid stuff) of fifteen counts of genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity and other atrocities in the former Yugoslavia, where a nasty racial and religious war was reported bravely and desperately by news organizations like the BBC, determined to document the world's historic events in the early nineties.
But did it merit a headline that night on the evening network TV news in the United States? Unfortunately, no.
It was a tough one - a national election candidate is in Iraq for a photo-op, and there is fresh controversy about Janet Jackson's nipple, an American war crime now nearly as old as the murder of Ms.Levy itself.
Could it be that we're just as capable today of ignoring important events as we were before 9/11?
If the arrest of Karadzic doesn't matter, how many tomorrows will there be before the arrest of Bin Laden doesn't matter? Do we forget the really significant news stories too soon?
If not, let's play a new reality show :"Wait, Wait, DO Tell Me what happened? " and try to explain its significance to our young journalists, and our newest generation of serious journalists.
"O, Mr. Condit, just one more thing Sir. Er, Congressman, did you ever go to Klingle Mansion? my wife loves it there."
But it was a deeply disturbing event in modern DC history, and in WAMU's Newsroom we gave it appropriate local news coverage to solicit information from people who knew Chandra, who may have come across her, or who may have seen her. But ultimately, and especially after her body was discovered more than a year later, the saga received far more press than it, or any participant (including her family) wanted or deserved.
The American media's ill-proportioned judgment on the Levy murder was drowned weeks later by the September 11th attacks, which demonstrated in a cruel irony that they had failed to prepare their readers, viewers and listeners for a nation-challenging event, preferring - as they had done - to cling to human interest and consumer-driven news. Then in the aftermath of 9/11 there was a naive consternation born of an ignorance of global change and a self-deluded arrogance about what mattered to regular folks. It amounted to a crude demonstration of just how much this country's journalists let down its people by failing to warn them of the potential perils they faced.
Seven years on, and I worry that the Post's reconstruction of the Chandra Levy murder might be evidence that history's ignorance might be repeating itself.
As a BBC producer in Europe in the early 1990's I met some of the victims of Radovan Karadzic, the architect of "ethnic cleansing" and described by the heroically brutish American diplomat Richard Holbrook as "one of the worst men in the world", who was arrested this past summer after years of hiding from justice abetted by the guilty and powerful of the Balkans. He's accused (among a lot of other horrid stuff) of fifteen counts of genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity and other atrocities in the former Yugoslavia, where a nasty racial and religious war was reported bravely and desperately by news organizations like the BBC, determined to document the world's historic events in the early nineties.
But did it merit a headline that night on the evening network TV news in the United States? Unfortunately, no.
It was a tough one - a national election candidate is in Iraq for a photo-op, and there is fresh controversy about Janet Jackson's nipple, an American war crime now nearly as old as the murder of Ms.Levy itself.
Could it be that we're just as capable today of ignoring important events as we were before 9/11?
If the arrest of Karadzic doesn't matter, how many tomorrows will there be before the arrest of Bin Laden doesn't matter? Do we forget the really significant news stories too soon?
If not, let's play a new reality show :"Wait, Wait, DO Tell Me what happened? " and try to explain its significance to our young journalists, and our newest generation of serious journalists.
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