Five Things to Rethink the Newsroom: Create Your Hubs (and Spokes).

What does a newsroom look like?

The thing that’s probably coming to mind is something out of “All the President’s Men”: a large room, with long rows of cubicles stretching out into the distance.

Which is a fine thought — a normal thought, really — because most newsrooms still look like that.

Except for one thing: news has changed; the newsroom should, too.

A modern newsroom needs to reflect modern-day news needs, which means less hierarchy and more collaboration.

So what should a newsroom look like in 2010? The answer might be found up in the air.

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News organizations used to operate in a linear fashion. The news process began at a set point (assignment desk, morning meeting), proceeded along to second (or a third, or a fourth) point (reporter, photographer), and ended up at a final set point (editor). News moved along a pre-determined assembly line, and the system worked fine.

But today’s newsrooms need to be designed to get news as efficiently as possible to its true final destination: the consumer. So what better example to show us the way than the most destination-centric industry on the planet: the airline industry.

Most airlines use something called the hub-and-spoke system, and if you’ve ever flipped to the back of an in-flight magazine, you already know what I’m talking about. Airlines set up hubs — United, for example, has hubs in Washington, D.C., Chicago, Denver and San Francisco — and the majority of their passengers move through those hubs.

The rationale is simple. Just within North America, an airline like United serves customers in hundreds of cities, from Albuquerque to Honolulu to Sioux Falls. Those customers are going to infinite destinations, and it’d be impossible for United to efficiently serve all of those customers with direct flights.

So what the hub-and-spoke system offers is a promise: United will get you from one point to the other, and in the majority of cases, they’ll be able to do it in just a single stop.

They’re able to do it because they centralize most of their operations out of just a few airports, and from there, they reach out across the country to all of those other destinations. So for even the most unusual of routes — say, Sioux Falls to Honolulu — the only thing a traveler needs to do is make a pit stop in Denver.

That’s the beauty of hub and spoke: it’s a simple connection for people in seemingly unconnected places.

The application for a newsroom is easy to see. At the heart of your newsroom, you need to have the heart of your news operation. So decide: what’s most important to you and your readers?

Whatever it is, make sure the people who control it are right in the center of your newsroom. And I mean it in a literal way: you need to redesign your newsroom so that at the very center of the room is the thing that’s most important to you. If you’re going to prove to your staff that you’re rethinking the newsroom, you need to show your staff that this one thing — say, breaking news — is the most important part of your operation, and that it’s the thing that drives the news operation. Be efficient, and put it right at your center.

So build your breaking news desk, or an assignment desk, or a hub filled with top editors. Now that you’ve got your hub[1. If you’re a daily paper or a TV station, it might be just a single hub; if you’re CNN, you’ll require a few hubs.], it’s time to start building the spokes.

When it comes to news, any member of your staff can play a role. If a member of your sports staff goes driving past the scene of breaking news, he/she might suddenly be sending back quotes or live video, even though it’s not what that reporter would write about on a W-2.

Under the old point-to-point system, that sports reporter wouldn’t have the leeway to do such a thing. But in a newsroom that collaborates, he/she will. So make it easy to share that information. By designating the hub, the reporter will know immediately who to get in touch with and how to share that information. The hub can connect that reporter to the people he/she needs — the producers, editors, the photographers — who can help.

And all along, you’ve got your hub, directing traffic and keeping the story moving forward by making sure that information is moving smoothly from spoke to spoke.

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Here’s the other thing to love about the hub-and-spoke system: it allows for teamwork among staff who otherwise wouldn’t get the chance to work together. If you’re a smart news organization, then you’ve already hired talented people. But give them a chance to work outside their department, and you’ll give them the chance to spark some incredible ideas and projects.

In newsrooms in Brazil, the U.K. and the Netherlands, newsroom re-design is already having an impact on the newsroom culture.

But this redesign can’t just be about the hubs. The design of the spokes needs to be re-thought, too.

I’m talking about building with inspiration and collaboration in mind. So consider this:

Get rid of cubicles.

There’s precedent for this in the modern highway system. Engineers will design a highway to handle a certain number of cars per hour. But what happens when a city’s growth far exceeds what the engineers predicted?

There are just two options:

1. Do nothing, because doing something might make the problem worse in the short term.

2. Tear it down and build something better for the long term.

The second option shouldn’t seem so radical. There’s a known problem, and there are ideas for how to fix it. But out of fear of inconvenience, we often try to work around it, which just makes the problem worse.

Only a handful of cities have been willing to tear down a bad highway and start again. In the end, they’ve succeeded, because they’ve been willing to deal with the short-term effects to ultimately deliver a better driving experience.

These are cities that have been willing to admit that what they first built just isn’t compatible with modern needs. They have decided to change before their systems became obsolete.

Sound familiar?

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So what’s a reporter really need today? Three things: a chair, a working Internet connection and enough chargers for a laptop, a camera and a smartphone.

What’s the point of having a designated desk, anyway? It’s a nice place to store photos of your family or your pets, sure, and maybe to keep a funny calendar.

But in the modern newsroom, the desk is just an obstacle between your reporters and true collaboration.

So get rid of it.

Around the newsroom, set up workspaces, areas where reporters can plug in and make calls. Set up long tables or comfy chairs. Instead of forcing reporters to work in a designated area, let reporters choose where they want to work.

Then watch as your reporters, suddenly freed from the confines of a cubicle, begin interacting and producing great content. And that’s a key thought: once you give them freedom, they’ll understand that they have the opportunity to tell whatever stories they feel like. A change in environment can make a massive impact on productivity.

And you’ll see the change really come during breaking news. Before, the key storytellers might be on opposite corners of a room when news broke. Now, they’ll just need to unplug from wherever they are, move to a central location and get working. Give your team the ability to operate on the move and they will, even if on-the-move is within your own newsroom.

That little spoke will be able to tell the story, and when another person needs to get involved, the hub will be able to easily direct them to the right place.

It’s not radical; it’s just flexible. And isn’t that what a modern newsroom should be?

Five Things to Rethink the Newsroom: Choose Your Mission.

In the fall of 2005, I entered college. At the time, the following things were true:

  • Facebook was available only to those with a college email address. Photos could only be uploaded in the form of a profile picture.
  • YouTube was just six months old, and it had yet to make a splash nationally.
  • WiFi was far from ubiquitous.
  • Among the largest photo-sharing sites was Webshots.com.
  • The inventors of Twitter were still working at Odeo.
  • The iPhone did not exist.

In five years, the way information is filtered and distributed has completely changed. It’s time for the newsroom to change with it.

Where it needs to start is with a mission statement.

Consumers are asking tough questions these days. They’re asking, “Why do I care about what you do?” and, “What do you offer that nobody else does?” There’s no universal answer to these questions.

To get those answers, every media organization needs to consider these three questions:

1. What are we doing?
2. Where are we going?
3. Why is what we do essential?

A good mission statement will define your greatness. What is it that you makes your news organization great? What do you do best? Maybe it’s covering breaking news or high school sports or the arts. Maybe you’re the government watchdog.

Whatever it is, know this: your brand is a promise.

Two years ago, Warren Buffet said those words at his annual shareholders meeting in Omaha. He mentioned two brands: RC Cola and Coca Cola.

What Buffet noted is that Coca Cola conjures up certain emotions in consumers. They think of Coke and remember certain times in their lives, times of great pleasure or joy.

They do not just drink Coke; they love it, and they trust it.

But no one, Buffet, suggested, would say the same about a generic brand of cola.

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Ultimately, media organizations are no longer just competing against themselves. They’re competing against anyone who has a publishing platform — a WordPress blog, a Twitter account, a Vimeo page — and who distributes information via that platform.

The best bloggers and Twitterers all do one thing well: they build a loyal audience from the ground up. They define what it is they’re going to deliver, and they find a niche in the market.

Established media outlets can do the same, because there is still something powerful about the trust that exists between a respected news organization and the public.

The first step to rebuilding that trust starts with finding that mission statement: Who are you, and what are you going to do?

Whatever it is, come out and say it. Tell your audience what you’re doing. Be transparent. And put it at the heart of your newsroom. It’s the only way we’ll know whether or not you’re living up to your own standards.

The rethinking of your newsroom starts from here.

Five Things to Rethink the Newsroom: An Introduction.

“It seems to take a very unique combination of technology, talent, business and marketing and luck to make significant change in our industry. It hasn’t happened that often.”

That’s Steve Jobs in a 1994 interview with Rolling Stone. He’s talking about personal computing, but he might as well be discussing the state of journalism in 2010.

We’re at an incredibly exciting and incredibly dangerous time for journalism. The field that’s considered the ‘rough draft’ of history could soon be history — if it doesn’t start reshaping itself for the future. But where should innovation start?

Over the next week, I’ll be writing about five ideas that I’d implement if I was in charge of a traditional newsroom. You may not agree with all of them, and that’s okay.

But all journalists can agree on one thing: now is the time to do what great reporters do best: Question everything.

We can start by asking some tough questions of ourselves.

Graphics Gone Wild (A Blog Maintenence Update).

I’ve been working on an extended journalism-related blog series that will launch tomorrow, and I worked up a little logo for the series. But in the process, I decided that the old logo for the occasional “Things Journalists Can Learn From…” series wasn’t cutting it. So I put Photoshop to work[1. Hastily, if you note the edges on the outlines of some of those cutouts.] and came out with the logo above. You can find it — and the soon-to-be “Reworking the Newsroom” series, and all related stories — on the right sidebar.

You’re welcome, mom.

JetBlue’s $1 Million Twitter Hashtag.

Two different airlines announced an incredible deal yesterday: for $500, the buyer can fly anywhere the airline flies, with unlimited flights, for one month.

This made a big splash, obviously, in the news. But I found out about it first through Twitter. One of the airlines offering the sale is JetBlue, who frequently pushes exclusive deals on Twitter and is very active in replying to customers who tweet at @JetBlue. I saw the all-you-can-fly deal when a friend starting using the designated #AYCJ hashtag.[1. The shortened version of #AllYouCanJet.] Hashtags aren’t always useful, but in this case, everyone who’s using #AYCJ is promoting JetBlue for free. The campaign is both viral and easy to share, and that’s a huge win for JetBlue.

But there’s a second airline that’s also hosting an all-you-can-fly package: Sun Country. They also fly nationally, to destinations like D.C., New York, San Francisco and Las Vegas. So why isn’t Sun Country’s deal getting the same kind of exposure as JetBlue’s?

The obvious reason is that JetBlue has hubs in New York, Boston and L.A. — all big cities with major media outlets — whereas Sun Country is based in Minneapolis. JetBlue has more flights, and JetBlue has more name recognition.

But there’s another key factor: social media. JetBlue’s presence on Twitter and Facebook — they’ve got 1.6 million Twitter followers and 300,000 Facebook fans — means that they started to sell out of their all-you-can-fly deal before it ever appeared in a single edition of a newspaper or onto the 6 p.m. news. If JetBlue sells just 2,000 of their $500 AYCJ packages, they’ll make a million dollars, and I’d bet they end up making a few million more. And the kicker? They’ll just be filling otherwise idle seats during a slow time of year. Social media pages that cost nothing to own or operate are generating them millions, and potentially millions more in goodwill.

Now look at Sun Country. They don’t have a hashtag. They don’t offer regular, exclusive Twitter deals. Their Twitter account has 6,000 followers. Their Facebook page has 6,000 fans. JetBlue might end up selling more AYCJ deals on Twitter than Sun Country has Twitter followers.

The point is this: if you’re running a business on Twitter — particularly one that sells things — use Twitter effectively. Offer big, outrageous sales to your followers. Build loyalty. Build followers and fans. Let them advertise your brand for you.

Because even if you do it just once a year, like JetBlue is doing, it could still be a million-dollar idea.

Hello, Stry.

They said it couldn’t be done.[1. They = my parents, siblings, relatives, friends and others who generally care about my sanity.] They said it shouldn’t be done, really. They said I would have to be an idiot to quit my paying job in San Antonio, move to Biloxi, Miss., and start my own news bureau. They said that I should find a more enjoyable way to blow my savings.

I did it anyway.

This week, the pilot project for this news bureau finally launched. It’s called Stry — pronounce it with an ‘O’ right in the middle, please — and it’s ready for your consumption at http://stry.us.

The brief pitch:

Like most good ideas, this one was born on a cocktail napkin. ¶¶ What if, we asked, we could create a new type of news organization? One that covered the issues that affect our lives. One that didn’t care about the headlines or news of the day. ¶¶ A news organization that wasn’t easily distracted. ¶¶ So that’s what we created: Stry, a band of reporters in pursuit of storytelling. We travel the country for months at a time, and when we find an issue worth talking about, we dig into it. We won’t stop digging until we’ve covered the story as thoroughly as we can. ¶¶ The stuff you’ll see on Stry isn’t like the stuff you see elsewhere, because we only do the types of stories that require patience and time. We hope it shows. ¶¶ We know that what we’re doing is different, and we’re okay with that. We’re Stry, a place that’s topical, not typical. ¶¶Welcome.

Yes, right now, I’m essentially doing this for free. But it’s been challenging and exciting and different than anything I’ve ever done. And a truth I’ve learned this week: I’m finding that I’m more productive and more satisfied with what I’m doing now than I ever was when I was gainfully employed.

Turns out that I had to quit my job in order to enjoy work.

These Things I Know To Be True.

Jorge Chávez International Airport is not a fun place to be, especially after midnight when you’re leaving Peru but your flight back to Houston has been delayed yet again. But my delay at Lima’s airport gave me a few minutes to reflect on my recent trip abroad, and especially on a few things that I very much know to be true.

  1. A country cannot be truly free until its people can print out airline boarding passes from home.
  2. If my mother starts running at the sight of someone, you should start running too.
  3. Wherever your are, the drivers are worse than wherever you just were.
  4. There is nothing more arbitrary in this world than airport taxes.
  5. If you are on a historical tour, and your tour guide is not speaking in his/her native language, the truth will become slightly more malleable.
  6. It is difficult to trust anyone who packs more than 50 lbs. of luggage for a vacation to anywhere short of Antarctica.
  7. The same holds true for those who refuse to turn off their phones in the middle of the Amazon rainforest.
  8. The number of crying children on your plane varies directly with the length of your flight.
  9. It actually kind of helps to smile while you’re getting screwed.
  10. Luxury is a very, very relative term.

Do Not Attend the Fourth of July in Biloxi, Miss., Unless You Have Very Good Health Insurance.

In the summer of 2009, having just accepted a job at a TV station in San Antonio, Texas, I attempted to convince my bosses to allow me to channel my inner Dave Barry and publish a daily blog, to be titled “The Evolution of Local Man.” The pitch, as I delivered to my bosses in an email:

Local Man finds himself in a constant, Sisyphusian struggle against success. He has attempted to scale buildings when drunk. He has acted in anger against drive-thru speaker boxes. He has found himself ornery, naked and, most often, confused.

And Local Man will not stop there. He will persevere; he will evolve. Local Man has not failed at all he can fail at.

The blog never happened, [1. I believe the word “total loss of credibility” was mentioned at one point in their argument against it.] but Local Man lived on that year in our news broadcasts. He crashed through windows, busted through police barriers and achieved all kinds of stupid. I was proud to just be there to read the police reports.

But I left South Texas last week, packed my life into a Chevy Trailblazer and moved east, to Biloxi, Miss. When I was arrived, Local Man was here waiting for me.

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Every year, from some tiny port of call you’ve never heard of comes a story so sordid, it’s tough to believe it only happens dozens of times every year. On the Fourth of July, Local Man drinks heavily, lights off fireworks and brings harm upon himself and others. This year, in Chicago, a firework blew up in a man’s face. Fireworks exploded in a teen’s face in Tennessee. Fireworks even blew a man’s arm clear off on Long Island.

And those are just the first three links I clicked on in Google News.

But what I’m really here to say is that any of those local men could have been me, Dan Oshinsky, a respectable, not-in-possession-of-exploding-substances American who just happened to be dangerously close to the path of a toddler with a lit Roman candle on Sunday.

On the Fourth, at about 9 p.m., I drove down to the Biloxi beach to enjoy the fireworks. I did not expect that this would be a life-threatening decision.

What I know now — and what I wish I known then — was that a Mississippi fireworks show should probably come with a surgeon general’s warning. Just in my walk down to the beach, I crossed paths with a handful of teens shooting off Roman candles into and over a crowd of thousands. I came about fifteen feet away from a ten-year-old who was lighting off some $20 fireworks with the range of a Soviet-era warhead.

To put it in perspective: I hadn’t see that much firepower in one place since my visit to Tiananmen Square.

But it’s tough to blame those kids for being stupid. At least they weren’t drunk at the time [2. I think.]

I will, however, point the finger at one Local Man (see above photo), who, for the purposes of this blog post, I will describe as Some Giant Drunk Asshole (SGDA, for short). SGDA was about six feet tall, with all the shapeliness of a small zeppelin. In tow, he had his son, who was maybe two or three years old. And there SGDA was, handing a lit match to his kid, who put it to the wick on a loaded firework and ran.

This happened, oh, about 20 feet away from me.

It was very, very loud.

And then SGDA lit another firework. And other one. And maybe five or seven more.

All while the actual fireworks display was going on.

Was there remorse from SGDA? An apology for nearly blowing off my ear when one of his miniature rockets turned into a sidewinder?

Of course not. Local Man cannot apologize for what he cannot comprehend.

When the actual fireworks display ended, the kids on the beach were down to a handful of Roman candles and bottle rockets. SGDA had lit off the last of his $100 or $150 worth of explosives.

I still tiptoed out of there like I was crossing a minefield near the DMZ.  I wanted, badly, to live. Besides, what good is seeing Local Man in the flesh if you’re not around to tell his story?

What To Do When You Want to Bob Your Head But Cannot Because You Are Trapped Inside an MRI Machine.

I’m not supposed to move. My right leg is inside an MRI machine, one that’s designed only for limbs. So the rest of me is sitting on a piece of hard foam, flipping through the issue of SI with Stephen Strasburg on the cover. The MRI technician has the local Jack FM station on the radio, and the Jack station is playing their usual blend of non-sequitors. Tom Cochrane precedes Whitesnake precedes, I believe, something from “Aida.” There is no logic to defend what is happening, but I’m immobilized inside an MRI machine. I’m forced to sit there and take it.

At which point “What is Love” comes on the radio.

You know the song I’m talking about: it’s the one that spawned a recurring Chris Kattan/Will Ferrell sketch on SNL, and eventually, an ill-conceived movie. It’s impossible to imagine the song independent of Kattan and Ferrell, or their signature move: bobbing their heads in unison to the song.

I want, badly, to begin bobbing my head to this 1993 dance classic. But I’m trapped inside an MRI machine, knee immobilized, and if I move, they’ll have to restart the MRI machine, and maybe then Jack FM will begin playing the YMCA, or Cotton-Eye Joe, or the Macarena, and then I’ll be trapped inside this machine forever.

A 1993 dance classic plays, but I do not bob.

The Bums Who Would Be Champs (or: Macho Hercules!)

In the fall of 2007, I decided that I wanted to study abroad. The rationale was simple: I was running out of classes to take at the University of Missouri, and also, I could get away with it. Seemed logical enough at the time.

I decided that I’d go to Spain, and the study abroad office at Mizzou gave me a few options. I took the brochures home, studied the pictures intently, and then did what seemed right.

I Googled to see which of these places had the best soccer teams.

I settled upon Alicante, a sprawling seaside city just south of Valencia. They had miles of beaches, a busy bar district and, most importantly, two soccer teams. The first was Alicante CF, a third division team that made a remarkable run that spring and was promoted to the second division. [1. They were promptly and harshly sent back down the following season due to an unfortunate tendency to lose games.] The other was second division Hercules CF, my team of choice, with a color scheme of royal blue and French’s mustard yellow, and a large Greek bust as their crest.

I’d be lying if I said Hercules was an great team that year. They were bums. But they were my bums, and I loved them for it. They were just good enough to avoid being sent down to third division, and just bad enough to stay well clear of the promotional zone. [2. In Spain, the top teams play in a division called La Liga, or The League. Anyone outside La Liga is irrelevant.] I went to games, I cheered, and I even bought a scarf from a street vendor. I’d have bought a jersey, too, but Hercules wasn’t good enough to have a team store. I’d have gone beer for beer with Hercules fans, but Hercules had neither fans nor beer. [3. Their stadium, Estadio Rico Perez, had two bathrooms and one concession stand, which sold non-alcoholic beer, potato chips and soda.]

This was not a team that featured many star athletes. Some teams put their best players on posters. Hercules put Jesus.

Jesus can save, I suppose, but he can’t score. That’s why the year I studied abroad, Hercules finished in sixth place in the second division, almost entirely on the strength of star midfielder Tote. Tote carried the team again in 2008-9, when the team finished fourth, just points away from promotion to La Liga.

This seemed alright with me. Hercules were bums, and I felt that they belonged somewhere right in the middle of second division. In a way, their continued mediocrity reminded me that the city I’d studied abroad in hadn’t gotten too big for its own good.

But then this season, the breakthrough came. I checked the box scores and the post-game reports weekly. I watched as Hercules got out far ahead of the pack, seven points clear of the third place team in the second division. Tote and the boys were a lock to advance to La Liga. But I also watched as that lead disappeared, as Hercules’ new fans panicked and called for the coach’s head.

Alicante, it seemed, would be spared success in the end.

And then, with two weeks to go in the season, my bums got a break. The two teams ahead of them choked; Hercules, meanwhile, got an 87th minute goal and a 2-1 win. In the last game, all Hercules needed to do was beat Real Union, the second-worst team in second division. Win, and Hercules was headed to La Liga. But, I reminded myself, the game was on the road, and besides, this was Hercules. I prepared myself for humiliation.

And then they won.

I don’t know how long it will last — the last time Hercules made La Liga, in 1996, they were sent back down at season’s end. But I do know that next season, Real Madrid and Barcelona, among others, will come to Alicante, Spain, to play. And a team that was lucky to draw a few thousand fans two years ago will be playing in front of a packed house.

I’m not sure how I feel about this yet. I fell in love with a group of bums. But now that they’re in La Liga, they’re heroes. Their fans might be able to buy overpriced Hercules gear in an actual team store, or use bathrooms that have actual working sinks. Their games might actually be broadcast on American ESPN. People might actually expect them to win. It will be different. Not better, necessarily, but different.

It was easy to love them as some second-division bums who nobody had ever heard of. It was easy to root for them because I didn’t have to take them too seriously.

But now that they’re champions? Now that Leo Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo will be coming to town? It’s all becoming real. I’m suddenly forced to make a decision: do I take my level of fandom up a notch? I root for the Terps, the Caps, the Nats and the Tigers. Do I start really rooting for Hercules too?

It was all so much easier when they were just bums.