Newspapers

Dear Weather Bureau,

First of all, I would like to genuinely and sincerely thank you for all your hard work in times of disaster, when your skill, your radars and your other technology have warned us of weather emergencies. Without doubt, you have saved countless lives over the years, and you have prevented a great deal of property damage by warning people of violent weather events. Along with many others, I truly value that aspect of your work.

However, isn't it about time you acknowledged that all your training, and your technology, simply does not equip you to predict anything other than an imminent threat?

I know I am not alone in saying that I am sick of seeing "seven-day forecasts" on the TV news, online and in newspapers, that are wildly inaccurate.

Please, can somebody from the Bureau of Meteorology make a clear statement that, by and large, the weather is unpredictable.

I believe the much-heralded death of newspapers is a long way off -- but it has occurred to me that, when newsprint does disappear, so, too, will a wonderful slice of modern English usage.

I'm thinking about "headline words": impactful, monosyllabic alternatives to words in more common usage that have the advantage of being short enough to fit into the small amount of space provided by tabloid newspapers.

Since web-page designs are often more flexible, and the common online practice is to use a lot of words in headings for search-engine-optimisation purposes, it's likely that many headline words are on the way out.

Here are some examples:

Hike: as in "price hike". (The more common word "rise" has the same letter count, but hike conveys more urgency, or even sinister undertones.)

Raft: not your basic boat, but a "raft of new laws".

Bid: attempt. Often used as a verb, as in "Brett bids for title."

Probe: inquiry.

Grab: theft (real, or as a result of a tax hike).

Nab: when "grab" is too long.

Lash, slam, blast: to criticise.

The Wear Valley Mercury in County Durham has become the 32nd newspaper to close in Britain this year. I'm not sure how hastily the decision was made, but on the paper's web page, the announcement of the closure is under an advertisement seeking an advertising sales executive for the title.

Brisbane is officially on the radar of one of America's most popular syndicated radio shows and podcasts. The Queensland capital was mentioned in a question on the "Not My Job" section of the National Public Radio news quiz Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me!

After also exhibiting some knowledge of cricket, the contestant, Hall of Fame jockey Chris McCarron, correctly answered that Brisbane is the home to the world championships in cockroach races.

The question also gave Wait Wait host Peter Sagal the opportunity to make a joke about the drinking habits of the crowd for the event.

No doubt McCarron, Sagal, judge Carl Kasell and the Wait Wait panel would be welcome guests if they decide to pop in for the races at the Story Bridge Hotel, Kangaroo Point, on Australia Day.

Audio of the segment is here.

Spot the difference. From the same smh.com.au page within minutes:

The controversial Civil Union legislation passed through Queensland State Parliament at 11.10pm yesterday.

So, you'd expect it would be all over the capital's only daily newspaper this morning. Um, well, no - at least not in the home-delivered editions received by people I know who live as close as 4km to the Brisbane CBD, and surely no more than 15km from the paper's presses.

The story in the edition I saw said - on page 9 - that gay couples (and the rest of us, presumably) would "know this morning" if the bill had passed.

When I worked for the now-defunct Daily Sun, the deadline for the final edition was 1.30am on the day of publication - and for a big story, it could be pushed even further. Interestingly, even back then a colleague noted that every time new technology was introduced - such as the conversion from hot metal presses to "cold type" - the deadlines moved earlier, not later as you might expect.

P.S. You can read about the passage of the bill here and here.

I couldn't let today's resignation of News Ltd CEO and chairman John Hartigan go by without comment.

Harto, as he was universally known to everyone who worked for and with him, gave me my break in metropolitan newspapers by hiring me as one of the foundation staff of the now-closed Daily Sun newspaper in Brisbane.

He and the brilliant team he assembled - many of whom rose to great heights in News and elsewhere - taught me much of what I know about the media (but don't blame them for my failings).

Harto is a great networker, and he exudes great charm. It's difficult not to like the man - even those who have had battles with him concede that point.

Although one of the inside jokes at News Ltd is that everybody is called "Mate", one of Harto's great talents is remembering names and faces, even as the years go by. Whenever he walked into the Queensland Newspapers office, he'd remember everybody he had worked with by name and he would always find time for a chat with the workers on the "shop floor".

The last time I saw him was at a Daily Sun reunion four years ago, where he was especially generous with his time and his words.

While not everybody was a committed fan, many a glass will be raised as a toast to Harto tonight and on November 30 when he steps down.

According to online reports (here and here), Harto will be replaced by Foxtel's Kim Williams as News CEO and by Rupert Murdoch as chairman. Richard Freudenstein will take over at Foxtel.

In a message to staff, Mr Murdoch said : “John’s decision will end a distinguished 41 year career with News in which he has given us exemplary service and incredible leadership.

“John was an outstanding reporter, an editor with few peers and has been an inspiring executive, initially as Group Editorial Director and, later, as Chief Executive for 11 years and Chairman and Chief Executive for the past six.

“Few people have contributed as much as John to the quality of journalism in Australia. He has earned enormous respect among both colleagues and competitors.”

From couriermail.com.au:

Sir John Bjelke Petersen? Surely it was Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen.

One of the first things I learned in newspapers is that an editor should not pay an undue amount of attention to the content of letters to the editor. Mostly, I was told (and later discovered for myself), they were written by the same people grinding the same axes, and they were in no way indicative of the consensus of the general (or targetted) public.

The fact though was that, if you wrote to the newspaper enough, the chances were that you'd get published often and you'd have a disproportionate say. The same is true of callers to talk radio - ring in a lot and, especially if you're provocative or a bit simple (so they can poke fun of you), or it's a slow time of day, you'll get to air. Now, the same is true in the online world - post a lot of comments and no matter how awful, inane or inflammatory they are, they will appear.

However, letters to the editor are almost always read carefully and edited by professional journalists who understand the laws of defamation, contempt of court and sub-judice, and have a fairly well-honed sense of what is appropriate and fair, and what isn't. Many papers also go to the effort of confirming the true identity of the writer.

On radio, producers vet callers before they go to air, and "live" broadcasts are on a 5-to-7-second delay, meaning the announcer or panel operator can press a "kill" button if things get out of hand and the offending words won't be heard by the listeners.

But, as I noted on Facebook and Twitter yesterday, it seems that some media websites are not paying enough attention to the comments being posted on their websites. I wrote this in regard to Sydney's 2UE, which was still publishing comments referring to allegations about Prime Minister Julia Gillard which The Australian newspaper had already acknowledged were false.

I asked: Where was the moderator? To my mind, many of the comments on that issue, and many other issues, should have been edited or not published at all. It's got nothing to do with my political views, it's the simple fact that if any media site publishes a defamatory remark and it does get sued, it will only have itself to blame.

Meanwhile, over at the Nova 106.9 website, a potentially more dangerous game was (and, as I write, still is) being played. They were running a Twitter feed displaying any tweets using a particular hashtag, plus Facebook comments from a fan page, about their new breakfast show. I'm assuming the process is completely automated, which may be cheap but it is in no way in the station's own interests.

As it's turned out so far, it's meant that Nova has been "publishing" some rather unflattering and potentially hurtful comments about its own new breakfast star, Camilla Severi. I feel sorry for her but I'm also tempted to say, good on Nova for allowing people to express their views freely, even if they are at odds with the company's own commercial aims.

Presumably Nova's research indicates that the comments are wrong, and the new show will be a success. Maybe they think any publicity is good publicity. (However, I'm sure if somebody rang in and started bagging the station or its stars, they'd be "killed" pretty quickly.)

But there's a more serious issue here than simple abuse: what if somebody were to tweet an extremely defamatory or racially offensive remark using the Nova-nominated hashtag and it ended up on the company's website for a sustained period of time? What if somebody sued? Who would be responsible: the author (if they could be identified) or the publisher?

Surely a test case on this issue is not far away.

PS: I've posted some of the comments here.

One of the great criticisms newspaper and radio journalists often make of their television colleagues is that they work by the mantra that "if we haven't got pictures, it isn't news".

Some news, however, is too big to ignore - and that was the case for Channel 9 in Brisbane, which twice faked live crosses to the scene where remains believed to be those of missing schoolboy Daniel Morecombe were found. While the news crew pretended their helicopter was "near Beerwah", it and its crew were, in fact, at or near the station's studios on Mt Coot-tha.

Of course, TV news isn't the only culprit in the faking department. Newspaper journalists have been accused of making up quotes and facts, and, well before Photoshop made it oh-so-easy, doctoring photographs. Radio also has a long charge sheet in this department. As I was reminded just recently, ABC cricket commentators used to do "live broadcasts" of the game from the studio, using cables that gave the scores and other bare facts, then making up the rest.

As we progress in the digital age, where anybody can provide "news" online, one thing professional journalists have going for them is their integrity and sense of ethics. How can "real" journalists rail against the bloggers and aggregators when they themselves are found wanting?

Oh, the dangers of filing quickly ... this is from The Australian online directly after the MasterChef grand final:

Even the Oz's Twitter feed was saying the same thing:

This from The Courier-Mail Twitter feed:

Sadly, while the actual story mentions the possibility of free drinks, newspapers and wi-fi for commuters who pay more, it doesn't appear to mention opera.
PS: Of course public transport in Brisbane is already overpriced compared to many other "world class" cities, but that's a whinge for another day.

The escalating phone-hacking scandal in the UK has made one thing clear: it's time for journalists and other media professionals everywhere to talk about ethics openly and frankly, and for all media organisations to formulate (if they haven't already done so) and clearly state their policies to staff.

While I know that most journalists are honest and decent people, I can also confidently say that some people I have worked with over the years have never even considered the moral or ethical implications of what they do on a daily basis. (See my previous post for more on that.)

Sure, they can mostly hold their head high and say, for example, that they've never stolen a child's medical records, but have they ever, for example, given undue prominence to a story on the basis of a gift or free service they have received? Did stories make it into the paper, or on air or online, simply because somebody offered a low-level bribe? Did something not make the cut because of a favour offered or owed?

These are extremely important questions that all journalists have to address - especially in jurisdictions where politicians are looking to change the law to make it harder for legitimate journalism to take place. If we want to avoid draconian privacy legislation that will shield the real wrongdoers, then we must get our house in order.

In common with millions of people around the world, I have been stunned, again and again, by the revelations made about the extent of phone-hacking and personal intrusion by private investigators and journalists hired by The News of the World in Britain. We are told that there are more, worse revelations to come, and that there are allegations to be made involving other newspapers.

As a journalist, and one who has spent much of his working life at News Corporation titles (including a very brief stint at The News of the World), it’s extremely painful for me to see the profession I love being dragged, yet again, through the mud. Journalists consistently rank lower than used-car salesmen in polls about trustworthiness; now there is concrete evidence to back up those public suspicions about our integrity. This time, it’s entirely of our own making – or, at least, the making of a few journalists who were prepared to do anything to get a story and of management that, at best, turned a blind eye.

It’s about now that I should rattle off all the good things that journalism does. It can bring down dishonest governments, it can expose corruption and hypocrisy, it can keep people informed about issues important to them, and it can keep them entertained. Sadly entertainment, or more to the point, titillation, was the News of the World’s main stock in trade. It shifted the news agenda away from what really matters to what’s happening in the bedrooms of the rich and famous. Was it, as The Jam noted in their song News of the World, a matter of the public getting what the public wants, or the public wanting what the public gets? (A lot of other factors, the rise of the internet being one of them, are involved but it’s interesting to take a look at the correlation between newspaper sales and the extent to which revelations have become more salacious and intrusive.)

Now to my main point: A lot has been said and written about journalistic ethics over the past few days and weeks, much of it by people taking the high ground even though their own ethics have undoubtedly been compromised. The fact is that there’s not one journalist I know who has not taken what other people, in other industries, might interpret as a bribe. A free trip, concert tickets, a meal and more than a few drinks – we’ve all taken them, and I’ve had my share over the years. Now, of course, we don’t call them bribes, we call them hospitality that’s part of the job. If somebody wants to give me a drink, of course I’m going to take it. Who wouldn’t?

For the record, I believe I have always acted within the industry’s ethical guidelines and so have the vast majority of my journalistic friends and colleagues. I’ve accepted hospitality and travel relevant to my round, but always on the basis that I would be free to write it as I saw it – for the benefit of my readership – not just regurgitate a media release. From memory, I only ever once actually asked for concert tickets – and that was on behalf of a superior – and when I really wanted to see a show, I bought my own tickets.

However, I know of one entertainment journalist who always tried to “blag” tickets for himself and often his friends, who had no involvement in journalism and who were, therefore, occupying seats that the promoters could have otherwise sold (or used for actual promotional purposes). Other individuals I have met in the course of my work would routinely try to organise free holidays for themselves and their friends, hoping to “pay” for it through the newspaper columns. (On more than one occasion, much to my delight, these attempts were thwarted by a vigilant travel editor.) These journalists see freebies as not just a perk of the job but an entitlement. To me, that attitude is distasteful and an embarrassment to the profession. (What has also become apparent is that many journalists believe they are entitled to use any means necessary to get whatever story they want, however trivial it may be and regardless of who may be hurt in the process.)

But it can get worse than that. What if this hospitality was offered purely on the basis that a story was written in a certain way, or that certain facts went unreported? When I worked in China, I was shocked to learn about the system of “red envelopes” offered to journalists. A friend who works in PR and was organising the opening of a bar in Shanghai was told that, along with free drinks and food (so the guests could sample and write about the bar’s offerings), she would have to pay the reporters just to turn up. Worse still, I was told that, in some parts of that country, journalists would rush to the scene of a tragedy, not to get the story but to take a bribe not to report certain details of the story (ironically, it was usually those aspects that involved corruption). I know there have been great efforts in China to clean up this sort of abuse – perhaps they are doing a better job of it than the bumbling British officials have over the phone-hacking scandal.

In a perfect world, the media would pay its own way – they would buy the tickets to the theatre and pay the airfares, the hotel bills and everything else associated with getting a story. The reality is that this won’t happen. PR people know their story will go unreported or underreported unless they offer hospitality, and they have a budget to do this. For journalists, it’s a matter of understanding their code of ethics and to know the boundaries of decency and public interest.

When all journalists behave honourably – and are seen to behave honourably – then we might, one day, make it higher up that list – at least higher than used-car salesmen.

Muphry's* Law strikes again. Bob Cronin is a solid old-school journalist I used to work with at the Shanghai Daily. I'm not sure that he'd approve of the headline to this story in The Australian, which refers to him as the "edito-in-chief" [my emphasis] of The West Australian.

* Yes, I do mean Muphry's. Follow the link.