Rudinblog

The death of local journalism?

A very interesting discussion in this week's Media Show on Radio 4. The lead item was about local newspapers, which are now in such a crisis there is talk of most of the collapsing within THREE MONTHS! The industry has been hit by a double-whammy of cyclical (the general financial recession hitting advertising across the board) and structural (the disastrous migration of local advertising – especially classifieds – to the Internet). Titles are closing daily and those that are left are often barely more than glorified press-release re-writes from the council or other bodies, plus the usual crime stories. There is very little investigative journalism; not surprising as the editorial staffs are so small they hardly ever get the chance to go out and talk to people – which, despite all the electronic communication wonders of the day, is usually what produces 'real journalism' : you know, something that somebody, somewhere would rather not be published, all the rest being advertising.

As the programme's discussion highlighted, the rapid and seemingly accelerating decline in local newspapers is linked with a crisis in democracy – especially at the local level. Turn-outs in local elections are the lowest in Europe and scrutiny of how local decisions are made and public money being spent surely at all-time low. You can't really blame people for not bothering to vote in local elections – what isn't decided in Whitehall and Westminster is spent by unelected and unaccountable QUANGOs and the European Union (but DON'T get me started on that!). But if local journalism was more vigorous and challenging maybe this would improve as public pressure increased for more transparency and more local decision-making. There is clearly a strong case for treating journalism as different from other commercial activities.

So is the only answer public subsidy as such? One of the programme's guests, Polly Toynbee, clearly thought so and the case has been taken up by other commentators, including The Independent's Johann Hari. But what chance of this when the public finances are in such dire straits and seem certain to remain so for at least the next two parliaments – by which time it will certainly be to late to save local journalism. As Toynbee pointed out, the idea that the Internet will produce serious, inquiring journalism (as opposed to adding to the commentariat…he who lives in glass house!) is a chimera, as no one has found how to pay for this on Internet-only sites. It costs money to send out reporters for days or weeks on stories and the existing and often excellent Internet sites are parasitic on the paid-for 'dead tree media'. Now that people are used to receiving their 'news' for free you are not going to be able to make them pay for it and the advertising on the Internet isn't going to pay for original local journalism.

We know that ITV regional news will come to an end by 2012, when they lose their 'analogue advantage' and that channel is, of course, facing its own crisis – the worst in the sector's history.

What I don't think came out with sufficient vigour in the programme is the voracious demands by newspaper companies for their 'papers to be 'cash cows' – often demanding profit ratios of 30%, which few if any other industries demand. Stripping out costs, with journalist being the most expensive factor, helped to increase the profit margins in the short term but of course has resulted in poorer 'products', which the public is understandably reluctant to pay for, leading to a vicious cycle of declining circulations and an exacerbated loss of advertising, leading to further rounds of job cuts and amalgamations, etc.

Added to that has been the abandonment of many of the training schemes for journalists. Long-gone are the national indenture-ships of the sort I had, where gaining a place on a course was the hard part but once taken on you were virtually guaranteed a job because the places were limited to the number of trainee slots available nationally. You had proper training for a year, then taken on as a trainee and then further examinations and tests at the end of the two-year period. During which time you really learnt your stuff and had bags of experience in courts and councils (all of which were always staffed) and, perhaps more importantly, had your own 'patch' in which you were expected to 'nurse' for at least two days a week; just going out to talk to local contacts - the vicar, the cop shop, the postmaster, the guy from the Chamber of Commerce, councillors of course (when they were 'off duty'), and the publican (always a fine source of stories and your expenses would be scrutinised to see if you had claimed enough for imbibing with such contacts!). Stories that you never get on the end of a telephone or e-mail. The best journalism usually results when you have looked people in the eye and you can judge how far you can push them and making it harder for them to lie, deceive or conceal. Plus, they give you background on potential stories and tell you things in confidence which might well lad to other stories, etc. I talk to journalists now who have NEVER done this sort of stuff, indeed some who have NEVER attended a court or council.

So you wonder what and whom we are training and educating for.

The social skills of being able – and wanting – to talk to people never leave you. I get 'stories' every day, quite effortlessly, indeed unconsciously because – unless I really am in a tearing rush - I always talk to people I meet in shops, at the garage, at the gym, the pub, etc. I never stop being fascinated by what people know, what they're thinking and what they do. Small example: the Sunday morning after the one-before-last school reunion(!) we were back in the pub, the scene of the previous night's revelries, fo what was an amazingly popular option for locals of Sunday brunch (this is about 10 a.m.). Anyway, I was getting the coffees in for my wife, who was sitting with two female former class-mates. I noticed that the girl serving me had been barmaid the night before, so I start asking her about the shift patterns, etc. As I bring the coffees I notice the three 'girls'/ were giggling.

"What's up?" I ask.

"You'd talk to anyone, you!" exclaims the current Mrs Rudin. It's true. I mean, I am not saying I didn't notice that barmaid was an attractive young woman but I would still strike up a conversation, whichever gender or age they happened to be.

The other week I had a fascinating conversation with the (middle-aged) woman who runs a local, independent garage which I favour for my fill-ups. I started chatting and she asked me what I did. When I told her I lectured in journalism she exclaimed: "Oh, that must be fascinating!"

She said that she loved to compare how different newspapers reported the same story and, indeed, she had a selection of that morning's press spread in front of her. In other words, someone who left school at 15 and has never had anything to do with the media professionally was, purely for her own interest, doing something that forms part of our university course in journalism! You should never underestimate people. And we shouldn't underestimate how important is journalism. I hope we don't appreciate it when it is too late to save.

Finally, back to The Media Show. The final item, was about the effect of the 1960s off shore 'pirate' radio stations - with the peg, of course, being the new and much-hyped Richard Curtis film The Boat that Rocked, which is on general release next week. As someone who has been fascinated by such stations for decades and has been published in academic press (no less) on their impact, I know that this feel-good, popcorn movie is going to annoy me. Just judging from the press coverage and the trailers it is obvious it bears very little relationship to what 'really' happened and has, as it were, missed the boat on the stations' true legacy and impact, which is actually far more interesting than is portrayed in the movie.

Even this programme item got it wrong: small point I know, but the Act which drove most of the 'pirates' off air was the MARINE (etc.) (Broadcasting) Offences Act, not the MARITIME Offences, etc. And it did not give the government the power to impound the ships (they were in international waters and the stations themselves could not be made illegal at that stage) but the Act did made it illegal for UK citizens to work for, supply or, most crucially, advertise on them. BBC cuts in production staff are also feeling their effect!

Anyway, no doubt more on this when I have seen the movie!

 

 

 

Confidence trick

I had a great week-end in the English 'Midlings' and felt I deserved it after a somewhat draining week at work and home – can't go into the latter but, before any rumours start, there is no problem with the Rudin marriage! The work is related to yet another accreditation visit – that's five lots of people who now oversee our course(s) and confirm we are doing the right thing: the university, external examiners, plus three industry training bodies. Frankly, I am getting pissed off with having to defend what I/we do. Especially as they all want different things. A fooking nightmare - demoralising and a huge distraction. And I resent it, because when the 'kids' go out into the industry we get the most fantastic feedback from the employers, who clearly rate what we do with the students and how we prepare them for the 'real world. And things are moving so fast, you wonder now to what industry we are being accredited!

So, Saturday lunch-time found me with three of my old school-mates in a very refined restaurant in Sutton Park, which used to be known as La Reserve but has, invevitably, been 're-branded'. We were seated at a good spot, looking over one of the Park's lakes and mercifully, the diners at the nearby tables were mostly of advanced age and poor hearing, as the discourse got a bit 'laddish' on occasion (well, it had been billed as a 'Lads Who Do Lunch') . The sun shone, the Park looked magnificent, and the conversation ranged from the profound to the profane. It was all over too quickly and we are all agreed that this needed to be repeated, and soon. It's funny: as noted in previous postings I hadn't been back to the town – sorry, Royal Borough – for some 30 years, but have been back half a dozen times now in the last eight months or so. And over the last couple of week-ends - as well as e-mails, Facebook stuff and now Twitter - I've spent about several hours on the 'phone to my school-mates, mostly about 'current concerns', not about the school-days. Still, the group is expanding and, thanks to Facebook, (where we now have a 'dedicated site' - "Being for the Benefit of ex-JWGS") getting bigger almost daily. This has included one from our year who is now in New Zealand – how good is that? Apparently he and a girl from our class had often discussed what had happened to me and he has put about a rumour that I was held back a year – outrageous! But it's a sure sign of good male friendship is when you can take the piss out of each other.

Talking to some of the girls, it is clear that our experiences were somewhat different, I am sure much more than would be the case now in a co-ed school. Another girl from our year, who is also a family friend, came up with her Mum to my Mum's for Mother's Day. It was good to see her – the last time we met was about 18 years ago when I visited her, hubby and then infant daughter when they were living in Muswell Hill (London, England!). She'd been reading my Blogs. "You boys seemed to be treated much more harshly than the girls", she commented. That's obviously true in the sense that we had our bottoms beaten and they didn't (well, not in school time, anyway!). I think we were treated like junior National Servicemen by some of the masters – especially the games' teachers. Still, I think it was generally better for the boys – I was more frightened by the Head of the Girls' School than any of the male teachers – and, the monthly horrors for girls/women, (which were talked about in whispers and steeped in mystery and mis-information) are far worse than experienced by boys: the latter might cause embarrassing and unwanted urges, sometimes manifested physically, but, generally, I thought puberty was fantastic! Suddenly, I understood what the lads who were somewhat ahead of me had been on about! The alternative gender experience of stomach cramps, bleeding, mood swings…no thanks.

On the other hand, as one of my luncheon companions pointed out, the girls weren't expected to prove themselves by fighting and other forms of aggression. There was very little of that in school – there was a sort of code of honour that bigger lads did not pick on or challenge the smaller, weedier specimens like me. But out on the mean streets of Sutton Coldfield, things were different. It didn't help that I wasn't aware of some of the simmering tensions and animosities between different groups (except in the case of the Banners' Gate Boot Boys it is pushing it as bit to call them 'gangs'), probably because when all this was going on I was 'doe a deer'ing' with the Sutton Operatic Society, or some other production.

I got a taste of this on one occasion: we had been out in the town and some sort of running battle ensued. We ended up diving into this particular pub (all well under age of course!), followed in hot pursuit by some of the protagonists. My school friends had scarpered to a place at the back of a pub but I'd got separated from them at the last minute. I was just about to scarper when one of our pursuers cornered me just outside the main public bar. "Oy. You're with them aren't you?" Before I could confirm or deny this, he grabbed me by the shoulders put his knee hard up in the family jewels, which of course had me rolling on the floor; then pulled me up, pulled back his fist and was clearly about to give me a right crack on the jaw, when he suddenly realised how small and, well, physically immature I was. He drew his hand across my smooth cheeks and jaw (both smooth as a baby's bum) laughed at me and pushed me against the wall…and exited, still laughing. UTTER HUMILIATION! The only saving grace is that I didn't whimper and plead "Please don't hit me!" I doubt I could have lived with that.    

I found the others at the back, who to their credit were very concerned: "What happened to you Dickie?" Etcetera. I shrugged my shoulders - no way was I going to tell them! At least if I had had a busted lip or swollen eye I could have had proof I had been in a scrap. But to be regarded as too young and weak to be even deserving of a fight…bad. I hadn't told this story to anyone until a few weeks ago when I described the pub to a school friend to identify it. I had got the décor and lay-out exactly right. Which shows what a powerful impression these incidents – banal as they are, and no doubt repeated countless times in countless towns and cities across the country each week – can make.

I had a weird mixture of worldliness and naivety. "You've got the bodies of men but the minds of boys!" declared our games' teacher as he lined up a group of my peers for a 'slippering' after some misdemeanour. With me I felt it was the other way round! Out of school I was mixing with a lot of adults in the various productions I was in and I had a good relationship with a lot of my parents' friends and work colleagues. Back at school I had to switch mode and try and act my toughest role – that of being a teenage boy in England in the early-mid 1970s.

Although my old school-friends seem to remember me as very confident – an understandable view of someone who performs in school and other productions, reads out 'funny stuff' he's written in class, etc. – and most of them don't seem to remember me being short (though my first passport at 16 cannot lie), I definitely lacked confidence because of my self-consciousness about my height (lack of) and physique. I addressed these 'issues' (as we would now call them) by investing in the infamous Charles Atlas Bullworker ("You, too, can have a body like mine!"), showing the 'before' (7-stone weakling, getting sand kicked in his face) and after (a freakishly muscle-bound Adonis), and an exercise programme that was guaranteed to increase your height. This involved stretching the spine by pulling yourself up on door-frames, etc. Don't try this at home, kids!

But we all get fixated on the areas where we feel we are worse or inferior to others in our peer-group. It didn't help having communal showers and a potential thrice weekly mutual audit/inspection during puberty. Not just concern over the obvious male areas (even if you know that what appears to be a wide disparity at certain ages tends to even up over time and when it comes to 'action', and that the pecking order – or pecker order - is just the most obvious point of misplaced pride or anxiety of the adolescent male) but with me it was also that most of my contemporaries seemed to be taller and well, hairier than me. "Oy, Dickie, do you shave your legs?"called one in the showers. But, like I say, everyone has the piss taken out of them so I didn't mind that too much from the lads. I was mortified when one of the girls made a similar comment as she was studying me when were taking our boots off outside the changing rooms. Girls can be so wounding!

Generally speaking, my experience and those of my contemporaries tends to re-enforce my view that youth is wasted on the young. I mentioned this off-air when I was on the City Talk show a couple of weeks ago (next appearance April 5^th- book your alarm call now!) when my fellow guest was a hi-flying businesswoman and had recently been profiled in the regional 'paper as a 'have it all' type woman. I said I wished I could be in my late teens/early twenties with the confidence I had now, as I would really have enjoyed those years.

"I can't imagine you ever being anything less than totally confident, Richard" she said. "No, neither can I!" said our genial host. Interesting. Still, better to have complexes about your physical side - which I kinda knew even then in my teens, would sort themselves out - than have more fundamental aspects of your personality and confidence knocked. These can cripple you for life. I've had a few occasions recently when I've managed to boost the confidence of older people who have got it in their heads that they are no good at this or that. It's a good feeling.

We Don’t Talk Anymore? Radio and journalism – past and present

The recession is certainly beginning to impact on my spheres of interest. To take the most recent first: the Liverpool Daily Post is today reporting that my university is axing a number of courses because, as a whole, we have over - recruited students and the government is now saying it will not only refuse to fund the "excessive" places but will actually financially penalise us for going over the limit. This has meant that a joint honours course (Journalism and Politics) which was due to start this September will not now go ahead. But the article implies that it is an existing course. In fact, the course had never even been advertised, although we still did get some applications. It is a shame but in fact we have been single Honours Journalism now for over a decade and so it's not as if we are going to be doing anything different. But for those who have studied the way the journalism itself operates will understand (e.g., Galtung and Ruge's theory on news selection), the story has gained more prominence because there is "continuity" with the "real" story of the intention by Liverpool University to axe as whole departments. As ever, when one is the subject of stories, one gets a different perspective than when one is creating them!

The recession is certainly having an impact on local media, not least the still fledgling City Talk, which has applied to the licensor and regulator Ofcom for a change to its format, essentially diluting its commitment to round-the-clock all talk. Ofcom in fact changed its policy that stations could not apply for a format change until they had been on air for at least two years only a couple of weeks ago, and within days -- following the station's first official audience ratings – City Talk had applied for such a change, which, if agreed, would also mean it sharing or simulcasting output from its other two stations -- one of which is, in any case, a mostly a networked station.

I have to declare an interest in the story at several levels: first, because I was recruited as Programme Controller when the first attempt at City Talk failed. The station haemorrhaged money and listeners plunging the original locally owned and managed Radio City (Sound of Merseyside Ltd) company into financial crisis. The station was sold to EMAP, which in turn last year sold its radio stations to German private company Bauer. The original format change to a mix of talk and oldies proved a great hit and within a few months we had doubled the audience of the first incarnation of City Talk and in fact had a weekly audience almost 5 times that credited to the new City Talk -- and that was on AM only with a rather dodgy signal in Liverpool and the Wirral. In all immodesty (!) I should point out that my own mid-morning offering used to gain some 50,000 listeners for just one half-hour, whereas City Talk gets 64,000 listeners tuning in at ANY TIME during the week (so there!).

At another level, four years ago I was recruited by the former News Editor and later Programme Controller of the original Radio City as part of the team for a Restricted Service Licence in advance of an application for the then yet to be advertised new FM licence in Liverpool, which was about the last to be advertised in the whole country. Liver FM was a great experience and had me doing the breakfast show, working alongside some of my then current students. The current City Talk has been excellent, though, for work experience and in time it must be hoped jobs, for 'my 'current and future students and I make an appearance every few weeks on Rob McLoughlin's Sunday breakfast show -- the latest one being last Sunday. If you missed the 'Listen Again' (how could you?!!) check my podcast page for some edited highlights of this.

The station has done some stories and events particularly well -- the coverage of the Rhys Jones trial was especially strong and on the day of the verdict I believe that it achieved that rare and wonderful thing that only radio can do -- it became one with its listeners and provided a vital for forum and conduit for feelings and emotions, with the presenters adopting just the right tone. I certainly think it would be pretty outrageous if, having won the licence against nine other competitors - all of which had originally proposed a mixture of speech and music to varying degrees - they should be allowed to actually do what the other licence bidders had proposed but who had been rejected. What would be completely unacceptable, in my view, would be to simply simulcast output that is already available on FM just down the dial in the same coverage area. How is that adding to listener choice, which is supposed to be Ofcom's main criteria? The original justification for giving the licence to City Talk was that only City proposed a radical new format and only that outfit could actually sustain it, give the shared costs of the newsroom, sales, admin' and other areas. But now the station says that all-talk is too expensive in a recession.

One of the other members of the Liver FM team and member of the original Radio City newsroom -- which was nationally and even internationally respected and was the first 24-hour newsroom outside of London - was Roy Saatchi, who went on to have a highflying career at the BBC, including being a leader of the regional news programme Midlands Today and later in charge of the whole of local and regional broadcasting in the north-west. Roy, who is Honorary Professor of Broadcast Journalism at my university, has been extremely helpful in all sorts of ways on my course, came in on Monday for most of the day with my final year radio students, giving us the benefit of his experience and wisdom on all sorts of aspects of programme - making in news and current affairs. He began with potted history of how he got to the business at the start and I was amused to hear that he was yet another of the "Bedroom FM" brigade, having rigged up a short range radio system to broadcast his own 'station' on the family radiogram! It is amazing how many of those who got into radio did this. Also common is a fascination with the technology -- admittedly a bit of the "boys and toys" thing. He, like me, loves all the new digital technology, not in itself but because of what he can do. I still love all the kit I must admit -- and spent some time in the control room at City Talk on Sunday.

It was undoubtedly the attraction of being in control of all those knobs, faders switches, as well as tape machines, turntables and the rest that made be determined to get a career in radio. Astonishingly, Rob McLoughlin told me he never actually been "self op". Nowadays, everyone is familiar with the look and equipment in radio studios, with all the WebCams, TV coverage etc., but as a boy I had never actually seen what a radio station look like, or had any idea how it all worked until Blue Peter's John Noakes was assigned to the Tony Blackburn Breakfast Show on Radio 1, to find out how to be a DJ. When I saw this item was coming up a week or so before, I was absolutely determined to see it -- again, don't forget, this is the day before video recorders, let alone i- Players and most of the items on Blue Peter were never repeated, so you had just one chance to see anything: at the time of the transmission. The problem was that at that stage the teachers at my school were cracking down on bad classroom behaviour and realised that canings and 'slipperings' of the boys (it was always the boys who caused trouble!) were not curtailing this behaviour (as I've mentioned before, such beatings were borne and worn with some pride – a bit like 'bad lads' regard an ASBO today!) and we were getting a lot of whole class detentions at school, which, if happened on the vital day, would mean I missed the school bus, and if that happened I would be home in time to see Blue Peter. So a week or so before the programme I was very well behaved indeed and encouraged my class-mates to be likewise: this puzzled some of them, who thought I must be ill!

Anyway, all went well, I got home in good time and film of this Noakes DJ-training session was in the opening titles. I was absolutely fascinated to see the studio desk, the faders, how records were cued in, how the jingles were brought in on those plastic continuous tape-loop cartridges, and all the rest. A year or so later (when I decided my voice had definitely broken!) I constructed a tape, using the cassette recorder that had been 'bribe; for passing the 11-Plus and getting to a Grammar School – and our home record-player and sent it off to Radio One. (I know!). A few months later (!) I received an amazing letter back from Derek Chinnery, later Controller of the station stating that he "admired my technique" (GET THAT: "ADMIRED MY TECHNIQUE!!") but that perhaps I should set my sights on getting into a BBC local radio station first (this was before commercial radio started). So I sent the same tape to Radio Birmingham – more on that another time, maybe. I have to smile when I look back on the amazing self-belief – and cheek – I had at the age of 15.

Anyway, 'driving' and presenting a radio show 'live' certainly required a high degree of hand eye co-ordination and I remember in the mid-1980s, when I was both co-presenting and "driving" a half-hour news programme, Red Rose Reports - including playing in all the commercials, jingles, 'phones and outside sources, etc. – I used to emerge from the studio with what became known as the "Red Rose Reports flush". Absolutely exhausting! One of the magazines in the USA did a survey where they compare the brain activity of the DJ to that of an airline pilot and the DJ worked harder! Now, of course, it is pretty boring, with everything lined up on a single computer and commercials, etc. triggered automatically, instead of having to have your finger hovering over the button to make sure it was pressed at just the right time!

 

The other major change which I was certainly interested in was last week when SKY News took over the output for Independent Radio News (IRN); effectively ending the story of IRN - which is the story of licensed commercial radio in this country, given that it was the original monopoly supplier of national and international news to the Independent Local Radio (ILR) system. Based originally in Gough Square, just off Fleet Street, it was a fantastic place, and gave the mighty a BBC run for its money. When it was only 2 1/2 years in existence, and when there were only 18 commercial radio stations in the whole country, a survey showed that over 50% of the British public learned of the surprise resignation of the then Prime Minister Harold Wilson in March 1976 from independent radio, with the news reports supplied IRN. Being near Fleet Street meant the journalists shared the pubs and social networking of their print colleagues, providing a robust and invigorating atmosphere and they transformed the way that radio journalism was done in this country. The end of the monopoly and the arrival of rival suppliers of "copy, cuts and live read" service meant IRN was always threatened and effectively we now have a new commercial monopoly, run by SKY News, which has taken over the contracts of stations that had previously subscribed to IRN. I must emphasise that I have nothing against SKY -- indeed when I visited it about 15 months ago, to do research for my book I was greatly welcomed there and really found the whole atmosphere and ethos very impressive: a very flat management structure, lacking in the hierarchy and constant looking over the shoulder that you find at the BBC – I'd visited the Television Centre newsroom the day before - and they were very generous to me with their time and information, constantly asking "have you got enough time to see this?" Did I have enough time! I would have happily stayed several days, sleeping in the control gallery! I think if I was starting out in journalism today I would make a beeline for Isleworth.

 

As it happens, the next week sees the 30th anniversary of the start of my professional career in radio, when I joined Beacon Radio as a newscaster/reporter. Still just 21 I could not have been happier or more excited about this. Beacon was a fantastic station and the newsroom was very strong. Within a few months of my joining we were not only doing the usual five minutes on the hour as standard, but a bulletin of 15 minutes bulletins at 0800, 30 minutes at 1300, a whole hour at 1800 (which I often presented) and even 15 minutes at 2300, including the Parliamentary report -- I doubt there are more than one or two commercial stations outside London which even have anyone on duty now at that time of night and we even did weekend bulletins to midnight. I contributed a lot of stories to IRN and it was a great kick to hear my reports and interviews coming back "down the line", knowing that they would be heard by up to 50% of the population. Those days will never come back and the influence of any one station or outfit has, of course, been markedly reduced, given the numbers of broadcasters and the various other distractions.