Newspapers Go Extinct: Less Left

Yes, I'm still in mourning mode for my dear father-in-law, but there's only so much crying one can do. Tears are partly a function of memory and observation, and partly a function of sympathy. When I'm with people who are lachrymose--whether overhearing a heart-felt thank you, witnessing the love in a wedding ceremony, or even just watching someone I care for tearful in a personal, momentary clutch, I choke up.

Alone, I have fewer cues to cry.

And so I'm relieved to be invited to a friend's birthday party, and even to read the newspaper.

There are far too many articles here in Seattle, and even in national publications, about the closure of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, which began publication in 1863 as the Seattle Gazette. It's set to go online-only, probably in the next few days. The Sunday paper in the Emerald City has long been a cooperative effort of the town's major daily, The Seattle Times, and the P-I, so today's op-ed page was a death-watch. Several letters scorned the way-left stance of the P-I; more lamented the loss of a second print voice.

Dinosaur that I am, I was actually witness to the closing of another city's second-tier newspaper two decades ago. I'd worked for a couple years as a features reporter for the LA Times, then wrote a book, and then got a job at Los Angeles' other daily, the Herald Examiner, writing editorials. My boss was Tom Plate, now a national columnist, and I was one of three staffers charged with coming up with positions the paper would represent as its own.

Working in the grand structure that housed the Her-Ex was a kick; its sweeping double stairway and colorful copula topping the edifice (below) viewable from two freeways made it a landmark much in the same way the P-I's globe (photo above by Josh Trujillo, Seattle P-I) is a symbol of Seattle. In the newsroom, however, I remember many times shuddering when I saw rats scurrying across the floor.

I didn't last too long in that job, feeling claustrophobic and cooped up sitting inside all day, drinking far too much of their triple-loaded coffee. I much preferred chasing down stories, or free-lancing, because my time was my own.

But it hardly mattered, because a few years after my departure, the once-venerable Hearst paper--pardon the pun--folded. Its readership had declined as The Times' had grown--nobody wanted an afternoon paper anymore, and it was tough to see what the Her-Ex offered that The Times didn't. As a kid in LA, the Times had a conservative editorial position, the Her-Ex more liberal. But then they, like most papers across the country, both slid to the left, shadowing each other.

Did the Internet murder the Los Angeles Herald Examiner? Impossible, there was none. The paper had never recovered from a huge, decade-long labor strike that ended in 1977, during which time The Times comandeered the city; the Her-Ex then hobbled along and sputtered out in 1989. But I think that just as important in that collapse was an ingredient feeding the implosion of papers across the country--lack of balance in viewpoint. I am not sure about the Rocky Mountain News, but I know the San Francisco Chronicle is staunchly liberal. And of course here in Seattle, both the Times and the P-I share a perch on the left.

When we first moved here to Seattle, we subscribed to the P-I, because it was the only morning paper. The Times published too late to set the day and its events. When The Times switched to morning, in direct competition to the P-I, I compared the two, turning pages of each paper side-by-side, looking at the coverage, the depth, the writing, the perspective, even the layout. We switched immediately to The Times--it was clearly superior to the P-I.

I guess I'm saying a few things here. First off, all of the biggest papers nationally echo each others' views of news, editorial orientations, and types of articles they choose to feature. I noticed, for example, that our Seattle Times regularly offers admiring coverage for local authors--if they're gardeners, novelists or intellectuals on the left. But not a word about local authors' new more conservative releases (I'm thinking of five local authors now), even when titles reach NY Times best-seller status, and motivate 500 fans to stand in line at a local book-signing on a rainy night.

To be sure, the availability of the news on the Internet has severely harmed published newspapers. Anything major and breaking sends me to the Web. I want the transcript of a major presidential speech instantly; I want to compare the coverage of six or seven outlets within minutes. Like other news-centric folk, I'm poor on patience.

But my third point is that there's something worthwhile and unique about a physical newspaper. I love the feature stories, and the accompanying photos, and I like to think about the placement of articles in relation to what's also deemed important for the day. I like to skim headlines and choose what to peruse in depth, and I like sitting outside in the sunshine, when it's available, in brightness that would obscure my laptop's monitor, with a cup of coffee and biscotti. Sometimes I clip articles, and often artful photos that convey color, design and feeling. Just to scotch-tape them up in my world awhile.

If newsprint disappears, will I take the time to click on each page of the Style section? Will I follow links through all the local news? Will I ignore useful ads that I would have leafed through if stuffed in my morning bundle?

That, for me, would be the loss, because with my impatience, the answers to the above questions would be no. I'll check out the major stories and skip the rest in favor of checking my email, narrowing my world, restricting the breadth of my awareness, especially on local and human-interest levels.

But I do think it's too late. We've moved on to an economic and psychological scenario where high-speed connections have formed entitlements to events and even others' thoughts, instantly. In a way, that's great, because the amount of information available in that split-second is vast (if not accurate) and anyone with a computer can now collect opinions and viewpoints from varied sources rather than a single powerful printed editorial page.

Today we've had snow, pelting rain and hail, and now the wind is howling but the sun has broken through. Quick, time to grab my Style Section and biscotti and head outside.

Riots in Philly, and Why Newspapers are Failing

So much going on, it feels like time is revving up. It's fueled also by the swirling leaves and golden light of autumn, the manic-depressive news about the economy (thankfully it's been more manic lately) and of course the countdown to the election in just a week.

With my husband out of town, and two out of three kids back in college, the extra moments I steal to read the newspaper are probably also spurring my nerves. Reading the paper, one gets the idea that the election is a fait accomplis, that Obama, naturally, will win.


Tonight I heard from my husband, who had difficulty reaching his hotel in downtown Philadelphia, where a riot by celebratory locals at the Philly's World Series victory meant 100 newly-planted trees were torn out, and crowds streaming, screaming through the streets, shouting O-Bam-A! O-Bam-A! The police, in their riot gear, sought control.


I don't know what a baseball triumph has to do with the presidential race, but this suggests to me that next Tuesday night, cities better prepare for mayhem no matter who nabs the White House. And the chaos won't be led by Republicans.


Meanwhile, my ability to even READ the paper seems to be in jeopardy. The New York Times' Business section devoted lots of space today to "Mourning Old Media's Decline," and also featured articles about the end of the Christian Science Monitor's print edition, and layoffs of 600 at Time, Inc. A piece yesterday announcing an Audit Bureau of Circulations report revealed a decline in readership at hundreds of newspapers nationally.


The Los Angeles Times, the paper I grew up reading, has been losing loads of subscribers every year, but this year alone dropped 7% more. Said the NY Times: "On Monday, the paper...informed its newsroom staff that 75 of them would lose their jobs, the second major cut this year. The newsroom had almost 1,300 people at its peak, and with the latest reduction will fall to about half as many."


Newspapers' slump can't be blamed on internet reporting alone. In fact, I think it's related to papers' increasing decisions to wear their political persuasions on their, uh, headlines, choosing to canonize Obama and snicker at McCain-Palin. I put the two running-mates together, because print media can't as easily denigrate a war hero as a beehive-wearing moose hunter from Alaska. However, what do we see to balance all the articles trivializing Sarah Palin (we know her wardrobe's going to charity)? There's plenty criticizing her few years in government, but nothing that similarly reminds us that Obama has even less office-holding background.

The Pew Research center just released a study (Oct. 22) of campaign coverage, in fact, and look what they found:



Between the conventions and the last debate (the time measured for this study), there was lots more negative coverage for McCain. who got only half of the positive stories written about Obama. And the researchers said they were "very conservative" in their judging of content--meaning for a piece to be judged pro or con, it had to be clearly so, not just slightly implying a position.


It's this stomach-churning bias that keeps me from wanting to read the three daily newspapers dropped by our curb (far from our front door, btw). When I pick up the newsprint I dread the disheartening writing I'll be reading. The polls may show the country evenly split on their choices, but in the news sections of the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and Seattle Times, it's all over.


Even when elections aren't brewing, I really only enjoy the features sections of the paper. As my husband rightly points out, "there's no news business in America--only a bad news business." But when you've got a physical newspaper in your hand, you leaf through the pages and read all the headlines. Their dismal reportage seeps into my consciousness.


Online, however, I don't have to leaf through everything. I can target my reading much more easily. I'll google "World Series riots in Philadelphia," and have a selection of stories and sources to access. I'll pick a site that seems the most credible and least biased, and if I don't like the way it looks, I click back for an alternative. Reading news online is a completely different experience from reading a newspaper--and the depressive nature of newspapers lately drives me away to my computer.


I don't think editors and publishers get that. They think people are immersed in a "want it now" culture and prefer just to get a ticker of headlines at their desks. They think readers now hit the Wall Street Journal online and slurp up that paper's dose of reality quickly and move on. Well, it's not like that. When you don't have that ink darkening your fingers you can pick and choose not just the stories you want to read, but the slant on them you want to experience.


If newspapers weren't so darn biased, and went back to some semblance of real objectivity, they'd be a lot more appealing. And, I believe, they also might have a chance to survive.