At the Poynter site last week, Jason Fry had a sharp post about a major change reshaping the sports journalism landscape. The endless MSM-vs.-bloggers feuds are fading, Fry writes, as a new development comes to the fore:
That development? It’s that teams, leagues, associations, athletes and agents are all increasingly bypassing journalists and using digital tools to communicate directly with fans. Right now, this stuff is mostly marketing. But as sports organizations become more sure-footed digitally, they will become journalists’ competitors. And that will lead them to reassess bargains struck with newspapers generations ago.
That old bargain, of course, involved sports league granting reporters access—often going so far as to mandate that athletes speak with journalists—in exchange for the coverage teams craved. But as sports franchises become more and more able to reach fans on their own, they’re less likely to accept that bargain unless they can impose new terms.
Fry links to an April blog post by outspoken Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, in which Cuban acknowledged that print and TV journalists still reach audiences the Mavericks can’t. And he appreciates the work of unpaid bloggers. But professional web reporters, Cuban argues, reach the same audience the team can connect with through its own online outlets. And, because they’re chasing web traffic, they tend to focus on stories (e.g., trade rumors) that create conflict and headaches for the team.
The upshot? “Sooner or later,” Fry writes, Cuban or some like-minded owner “is going to decide that publicity from traditional news coverage isn’t worth the headache of locker-room interrogations.”
The fancy word for this process is disintermediation. And the parallels with political journalism—and with campaign coverage in particular—hardly need to be spelled out. Like sports teams, candidates for office crave media attention, and they’ve traditionally granted access, or consented to interviews, in exchange for coverage. And like sports teams, candidates are finding ways to connect directly with voters in ways that have the potential to disrupt that bargain.
The biggest example to date is probably Barack Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign, which attracted millions of visitors to Obama’s official website, reached countless more via YouTube, and provided new tools that allowed diehard supporters to spread the campaign’s message. Since then, we’ve seen the growth of Twitter, which done more than speed up the news cycle even faster: as Politico’s Ben Smith told Howie Kurtz over the weekend, it’s created a situation in which basic news is often “being tweeted by the players themselves.” We haven’t yet seen a situation in which a candidate fully exploits the opportunity of this disintermediated world to freeze out potentially unfriendly press. But as campaigns think more rigorously and more strategically about how to control their message, the movement is in that direction.
Which leads to two separate but related questions: First, what can journalists do in response? And second, is this trend—which seems clearly a threat to journalists—actually bad news for the functioning of our political system?
In his Poynter piece, Fry offers these suggestions for sports departments looking to stay relevant:
• First, think about what news teams will hold back to break themselves, and get out of the business of competing with them for it.
• Next, discuss which stories are me-too fare that readers can get anywhere, and that waste reporters’ valuable time.
• Having done that, think about what niches teams can’t fill. Fortunately, there are lots of these — statistical analysis, investigative reporting, scouting upcoming opponents, minor-league reports and historical perspective, to name just a few. Think about if any of those approaches make sense for your news organization, and brainstorm how middlemen can use their status to add value. (For instance, become a great curator, using news judgment to collect the must-reads for a team’s fans whether things are good, bad or ugly.)