The example I always return to, because I think it’s so emblematic and so crazy, is Alisara Chirapongse, who I’ve written about in Here Comes Everybody. She was blogging under the name gnarlykitty, and she was a fashion-obsessed college student in Bangkok. And so she was blogging about cute shoes and going out dancing, and then there was a coup in Thailand. And so she started blogging about the coup. And Thailand shut down the regular media, but they didn’t shut down Web logs. So she took her little camera out, she took a picture of tanks in front of a government building, and it was one of the first pictures to come out of Thailand during the coup. And so, all of a sudden, she’s committed an act of journalism.
And then a couple of days later she starts blogging about this Hello Kitty phone she’s got, and all the commenters who had come in to read her work were like “No, no, no! Get back to the coup!” And she posted this wonderful post. She said, “Look, this is my blog. This is about things that are happening in my life. One of the things happened in my life is that there has been a coup in my country, but another thing is I just got this new phone! And if you don’t like it, don’t read it.” And there was zero sense of obligation to her audience or journalistic mission or anything. And yet, she was, in those days, one of the earliest producers of real news and information inside post-coup Thailand. So if journalism is going from being a profession to an acitivity, then it all goes on a spectrum. There will be professional journalists, there will be journalists who practice journalism all day long for their jobs. And there’s going to be people like Chirapongse, for whom a single act of journalism may just define how they participate. But at that moment it’s pretty critical. So, I think news organizations are going to have a much harder time making a distinction between what it is they do.
You know, I talked to somebody from—oh, I forget where… actually, it may have been from CJR—for whom the Wall Street Journal was a serious media outlet. And when I pointed out that they run fluff pieces and they run a weekend piece, she kind of wrote that off as if once you’re inside the wall of, you know, the journalistic citadel, it kind of doesn’t matter that you’re doing stuff as fluffy as the average Web blogger. But those distinctions don’t make any sense on the network. And so people will always be interested in information relevant to their current situation. The part of that that’s really hard journalism, like covering the city council or whatever, where it’s long and it’s boring but you got to do it, is going to increasingly have to find new business models, because we can’t just rely on Bloomingdale’s to subsidize that anymore with display ads. And so we’re going to have this move to what I think are going to be a lot more nonprofit models for news, a la NPR. But, much more importantly, the idea that there are news organizations and other kinds of organizations, I think, is just going to break down under the weight of the evidence.
RJ: So are you at all afraid of, you know, a scenario where there’s not as much “serious journalism” going on? Or is that just something that’s a crazy idea?
CS: No, I don’t think it’s a crazy idea at all. When you talk about nightmare scenarios, here’s my nightmare: that for the print journalists, in particular—there’s a great Hemingway quote, I forget who it’s about: “He lost his money the usual way: slowly and then all at once”—that this is the all-at-once year. Right? That for four, maybe five, of the last few years, print ad revenues have been in moderate but monotonic decline. And so everybody’s been sitting around waiting around for it to reverse, and then glumly realizing it won’t reverse. And then wondering how long they have. And then, suddenly, we get this financial meltdown. So my nightmare is that every city with less than a quarter of a million people in it sees its only daily newspaper vanish. And that a good portion of those cities turn to 1950s-style, you know, 1950s New Orleans-style corruption. Which is to say because there’s no one watching, no one will be held accountable. So L.A. will be fine. Chicago will be fine, New York will be fine. You know, you can imagine Wichita just getting hijacked by its own city council. And it will take some time, as it took some time during the print journalism days to move from yellow journalism into some idea of serious reporting that isn’t beholden enough to the powers that be to be swayed. I don’t think that this is an easy transition at all.




I'm a big fan of Clay Shirky's writing so it is with disappointment I read this - he's building up straw men to knock down to make his case when its not necessary.
He hasn't read Shenk's "Data Smog" because it prescribes the very same solutions Shirky suggests. Maybe taking it even further - taking ownership of being your own filter an editor. He never suggests there is some path back to less information being generated or being made available.
"Information overload" is a symptom. Filter failure is a problem that presents solutions. The cure to information overload are better filters.
The two concepts are not in conflict.
Posted by Karl Martino on Mon 22 Dec 2008 at 02:20 PM
Then again, if he's referring to Andrew Keen - well that's another matter.
Posted by Karl on Mon 22 Dec 2008 at 03:20 PM
Clark SHirky: There are no non-profit models like NPR - they dive for ads just like the Times only they're hustling Foundation grants or infomercials or they driving us to distraction begging for dollars - and there aren't that many of those around you know. What I would also like to hear somebody talk about is the new class division built on access to information. (oK, not so new). Is it OK that only those with the luxury of time to surf the internet can pick up important national/international news? Just wondering...
Posted by Lisa Vives on Sun 28 Dec 2008 at 02:40 AM
Is it OK that only those with the luxury of time to surf the internet can pick up important national/international news?
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Time is the one thing its hard to buy more of, though a smart human filter is still better than all of the electronic stuff I've tried. The almost inverse relationship is that many with the most time (retirees, unemployed, etc) might have the least to gain with instaneous access to breaking information.
Posted by pete odell on Sun 11 Jan 2009 at 04:59 PM
I've often wondered about the crumbling of the Chinese wall. It's definitely happening. Journalists have suddenly woken up to the business. And it's complicating all kinds of decisions. We no longer have the luxury of blindness, and that's going to come at a substantial cost for objective decision making. You can still talk the "there's a wall" game, but I'm seeing a lot less walking these days.
Being kept was a good thing. It was good for the product.
Now, however, what I expect to see is a burgeoning creativity now that both sides of the team are speaking to each other. And it's going to focus on content delivery, targeted ads, geo-location, interactivity, the size of the paper, the use of the Web ... mobile offerings ... everything. There are going to be answers coming out of this.
And on the news side, yes, we suddenly are aware there's a big problem. But a lot of the problem is on the ad side. So suddenly we're wanting to offer up solutions or can't understand why the other half of the building can't get their act together.
Working together though could lead to some new and useful changes for readers.
I hear several gripes in the newsroom these days:
- Why doesn't advertising sell more ads? Just figure it out.
- Why are ads so expensive? Find a cheaper option for struggling businesses.
- Why don't we charge for our web site instead of giving it away?
I think far too many journalists think we can and should make our information premium by making it hard to get access to. You have to pay to play.
I'm just not sure that's right. I'd go for the mass solution ... cheap ads and lots of them. Easy content. Easy access. Come right in and take a look.
The industry is struggling with those divergent paths. I hope my company makes the right choice.
It's the best way to keep all of those new competitors at bay.
Posted by Dhyana Sansoucie on Wed 3 Jun 2009 at 04:04 PM
If people want the main points of readings, why not just give them the main points? It waists writers time and effort trying to write an information overloaded article. If studies have shown that readers do not read, why should we write?
While reading this interview, it was further reinforcement for the idea that readers do not really read because I myself as a reader could not hardly read the interview fully. I found it difficult to move my eyes across the words. On top of that, the interview seemed like pure gibberish. They were talking about whatever came to mind with no real focus on a main point. Thinking back on what this article was about while writing a response, I am really not sure what it was about. This seems like a great example of why we do not read. Why would we read something with no particular point? Even the comments have no particular focus. With what little the article has to say, it could have been much shorter and still have gotten the same points across.
Posted by Danielle Knowles on Tue 10 Nov 2009 at 10:40 AM