danoshinsky.com

Steve Brill is wrong.

He’s pitching a plan to save newspapers, and it’s based around the idea that newspapers should begin charging for all-access passes to their sites. And when he’s giving his pitch, just before he’s finished riling newspaper executives into believing that the public is just going to start handing over money in exchange for the printed word, he mentions that journalists are going to have to “change consumer expectations that journalism is free on the web.”

Steve Brill is wrong.

He’s not wrong that journalists are going to have to change the way the public thinks about paying for news. He’s entirely right about that, actually. Free, sadly, is not a sustainable business model.

But he’s wrong when he characterizes this as an “expectation.” It’s not. It is, sociologically speaking, a norm.

If I go to a bar and buy a beer, I’ll leave a dollar for the bartender. Society understands that bartenders work on tips, and we’re willing to self-police those who don’t tip well. There is no requirement that you tip; but certainly, those who tip poorly (or not at all) will be shamed by their peers for breaking a norm.

And if I go a restaurant, eat, and then leave without paying, I’ll be prosecuted (or find my face suddenly plastered on every restaurant wall in town). You won’t find a society in the world where stealing is acceptable.

In the first case, the norm is enforced by peers. In the second, the norm is enforced by the owners of the establishment, or by police.

But look at what’s happening with newspapers. Society does not frown upon those who get their news for free, because:

A.) There’s no norm that says that good journalists should receive extra financing (via tips) from the public for performing a public service ^1..

B.) There’s no norm that suggests that getting news for free is stealing.

And without going into the full, 10,000 word Malcolm Gladwell-style breakdown, I’ll say this: norms are hard to create, and even harder to break down.

Arno Peters is proof.

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What you’re looking is a map of the world as — according to many cartographers — it actually appears.

No, really.

In 1973, Peters presented that map at a conference for cartographers. He suggested that Mercator project map — first used in the 16th century — was inaccurate, as it distorted the size and shape of countries. The Mercator map was created for explorers — specially, European explorers — to use when traveling by sea. In that map, countries closer to the poles become especially elongated, while countries near the equator appear smaller.

Essentially, it’s a map that places Europe at the center of the world.

Supporters of the Peters project map say that the map does not treat the Southern hemisphere fairly. They’ll also note that Greenland has an area fourteen times smaller than that of Africa. But on the Mercator map, they appear similar in size ^2..

But you won’t find the Peters projection map in elementary school classrooms, and for good reason: it looks ridiculous. The map you trust looks like this, and that’s the way that you’ll probably always envision the world. The norm — since the late 1500s — is that the Mercator map is the true representation of the world, and any suggestion otherwise would be to deny a universal truth.

Could we, as a country, come together and decide that the Peters map is the better, more truthful map? Hypothetically, yes. But it would take decades, because we’d have to change the public’s perception of how the Earth really appears. And can you imagine the looks on people’s faces when we tell them how big Africa really is?

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As new Internet users log online, they’re discovering all of this free content, and they’re already sinking into the idea that free content is normal. It’s those who are charging for content who are the abnormal ones.

The truth is, for newspapers, the window to succeed in changing this norm is shrinking every day.

So what can newspapers do? Maybe a model like Kachingle — which works like a tip jar for journalists — could work, and maybe society will make examples of those who aren’t tipping their favorite sources in the news industry.

Or maybe Steve Brill’s model will catch on, and society will accept the idea that reading news for free is stealing.

Maybe.

Here’s where I’d start: I’d prove that the content that I’m providing is essential. We can live without news of the weird or the latest baseball box scores. But we need news that allows us to remain a informed, dedicated citizenry. The newspapers that provide such essential content will survive.

If I’m going to argue — as newspapers are — that I’m essential to a democracy, then it’s about time I started living up to it. Do that, and maybe I can expect the public to starting paying up.

I’m not advocating premium content. I’m just advocating better journalism.

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1.) And can you imagine if journalists were told that they’d be earning a lesser hourly wage and then making back the rest of their salary via tips? One thing’s for sure: on a tip-based-model, you’d see journalists working harder than ever. >back to article

2.) If this sounds familiar, it’s probably because the map was featured in an episode of The West Wing. >back to article

H/T to Hamed Saber for the image at top, and petersmap.com for the map

There is a certain irony in today’s announcement that CBS News will partner with UStream to live stream the network’s evening news broadcasts. UStream’s calling it an experiment in “viral news.”

I’d call it a nifty bit of free press, and nothing more.

The evening news hasn’t been relevant since the 80s, and we have Ted Turner to thank for that. His network changed the nature of news from something that happened yesterday to something that’s happening right now on a screen in your living room. There’s a reason why, in 1990, Dan Rather told The Chicago Tribune, ”I think that within five or 10 years, only one of the networks will have a news show.” ^1. Even then, news was moving too fast for ABC, CBS, and NBC.

In the 90s, the Internet took what CNN had done and moved it one evolutionary step farther. News isn’t just what’s happening now. Today, news can be whatever you want it to be, delivered however you want it. And if you’re reading it in anything less than real time, you’re already out of the know.

The old rules for journalism just don’t apply anymore, and that’s not easy to accept. A show like the CBS Evening News used to be a trusted source of news. But turn on Katie Couric tonight, and you’ll find yourself watching a program that’s all about things you’ve already read or seen today. There’s no new information, and few stories worth noting.

So why, exactly, would anyone at CBS believe that by switching the box with which you watch the news — while keeping the same basic platform for the program — a new demographic will suddenly tune in?

Repackaging content for a new medium is one thing. But this is an attempt to rebrand a fading show as tech savvy, and it’s a feeble attempt at that. Today’s announcement is further proof that network news is struggling to even remain relevant in today’s media environment.

We’re going through a major change in journalism, and it’s impossible to know what it’ll look like when everything’s been shifted. But I know that we need more reporters, more news, and more ideas. We need evolution in journalism to move as fast as the revolution we’re seeing with technology.

And we need to know that sometimes — and this is one of those times — an old model just isn’t worth reviving.

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H/T to Image Editor and juhansonin for the images, which I’ve pieced together in Photoshop.

1. Neuharth, Al. “CNN: Noodle Soup Glues Globe Together.” USA Today 1 June 1990. Lexis-Nexis.

Three things I found this week that I wanted to share:

1.) ConvoTrack, a new way to see who’s blogging/retweeting/digging your content (found via the Old Media New Tricks blog).

2.) The Wall Street Journal’s Photo Journal, which borrows more than a look from The Boston Globe’s Big Picture blog.

3.) Deep Leap, which extends the lineage of Scrabble-based games beyond Scrabulous and Bananagrams.

Through the power of Wordle, I’ve created a text-based visualization of my time writing for The Rocky Mountain News’ Olympics blog last summer in Beijing.

The thing I like about Wordle is that it can take an entire site, break it down by the frequency of certain words, and display them based on importance. Weirdly, I’m not surprised that words “toilet” or “pop-a-shot” are almost as large as “Beijing” in the above visualization.

The full thing, in Flash form, is available here.

Above, a TED talk that’s absolutely worthy of your time.

But the real reason I’m linking to it is because I’d like to mention a few things that the TED.com site does that I love.

Okay, so go open the site in a new window. On the right sidebar, next to “About this talk,” click on “Open interactive transcript.” Here’s the genius of the feature: you can click on any sentence in the transcript, and the video will automatically scroll to that part of the talk.

Then, below the video, click on the red button that says “Rate.” Instead of a YouTube style one-to-five rating system, you’ll have the option of clicking on words like “jaw-dropping” or “informative” or “longwinded,” so that you end up with a rating system not unlike The New York Times’ word train. It’s the man-on-the-street perspective, but for online video.

And one more thing: below the video, there are five options. You can download the audio or the video directly to your desktop. You can download the audio or video as a podcast through iTunes. Or you can watch it online in high resolution.

The lesson for those in the news industry: you should package your original content in as many ways as is possible and sensible.

My Dad asked a pretty simple question yesterday, and I gave a pretty simple answer.

The question: So, are there actually jobs out there for you?

The answer: Yes.

Simple stuff, right?

What I didn’t explain then — and what I’d like to explain here — is that while there are jobs out there, the one I’m really looking for doesn’t actually exist yet.

Any job I’m applying for is asking for a fragment of my skills. Nobody’s asking for the full package. And when I explain what I can really do, people get scared off, partially because they don’t seem to understand what I’m saying ^1., and partially because they’re convinced that I’m about to take everyone’s job ^2..

The problem is, up until a few years ago, nobody had ever thought to train a journalist in the manner that I’ve been trained. So it stands to reason that nobody would really expect a kid like me to be ready to do everything I need to be ready to do.

That explains why my portfolio page is such a mess. I mean, I can write. I’ve been published in The Boston Globe, The Rocky Mountain News, and The Washington Examiner, among others.

I can shoot and edit video — in both Final Cut and Avid — and I’ve done it for organizations like The Rocky and Newsy.com.

I know how to capture audio, and I can edit it in any program on the market (though I’m particularly fond of Audacity and Audition). I spent one summer producing radio stories for CBS News.

I know how to shoot photos, both sports and otherwise, with both Canon and Nikon equipment.

I can pull the entire story together with multimedia tools like Flash or Photoshop, or I can use my CSS and HTML skills to build an entire site in Dreamweaver. And I’m experienced with content management systems and web-based tools like VuVox.

As for social media: I tweet. I blog. I LinkIn.

But there’s no job for someone who can do all of that. There are reporting jobs, and there are producing jobs. There are jobs for people who want to work behind a desk, and there are jobs for freelancers.

But I’ve yet to find a job for me, a job in which I can teach media organizations how to tell better stories.

I suppose I’ll have to keep looking. Though, you know, it’d be a lot easier if people would just find me.

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UPDATE: Gannett is hosting a conference today about community journalism. Cedar Rapids (IA) Gazette Richard Pratt, tweeting via @richpria, posted this “Old model: Reporter, editor, photographer, page designer, more, producing a single story. New model: One can do it all. Asking a lot.” This is what I’m up against. The concept of the “new model” is there. News outlets just haven’t realized that there are already people ready to fill those roles.

1.) Newspaper people have no idea what a VO/SOT is, for example. Radio people don’t know why newspaper people write a “-30-” at the end of stories. TV people aren’t versed with Flash keyframes. Designers don’t know what an f-stop is. No one knows what CPM is. Everyone speaks a different language, because that’s the easiest way to know who’s in the know (and, conversely, who isn’t). But nobody ever thought that somebody would become multi-lingual across journalistic platforms. >back to article

2.) I’m not. I’d actually like to help rebuild news organizations and create more jobs. I’d also like to improve the way we tell stories. But I wouldn’t mind becoming gainfully employed first. >back to article

H/T to The Wall Street Journal’s excellent photo blog for the graduation shot. The photo was actually taken by Matt Rourke of the Associated Press.

Facebook is worth $10 billion. At least, that’s what it’s worth if you believe today’s news reports about the site’s $200 million investment from a Russian firm.

But here’s the catch: the $200 million is real. The $10 billion is not.

It’s simply hypothetical.

It’s what Russian-based Digital Sky Technologies believes the social networking site could be worth, assuming that Facebook can cash in on its millions of users. But it’s all just theory. Two years ago, when Microsoft invested $240 million in Facebook, the site was valued at 15 billion hypothetical dollars.

So how did a site that’s watched its core metrics — users and page views — soar over the last two years become $5 billion less valuable?

I could give you a theory ^1.. But it’d be just that: a hypothetical.

Hypotheticals are the reason why Cubs fans get excited every Spring, why “Dewey Defeats Truman” didn’t look that absurd, why “The Godfather III” seemed like a good idea. Sometimes, you want things to be true. Sometimes, you need things to be true. Sometimes, you’re willing to deny all logic to make it so.

Hypothetically, nothing is impossible. Hypothetically, all men are created equal. Hypothetically, the American Dream lives on.

Dreams are great. Action is even better. But if there’s anything I learned in a high school science classroom, it’s that proof trumps all.

Facebook — the site — is the real deal. Millions of people are using it to connect and share and live, and that’s undeniable.

But any dollar amount attached to the site is more than just hypothetical.

It’s hype.

1.) That theory: Facebook’s real value is in that it has access to data about millions of people. Facebook knows if you like the Goo Goo Dolls or horror films; you’ve posted it right there in your profile. Hypothetically, Facebook could convince users that it should be able to take that data and sell it to advertisers — say, concert venues that might be hosting your favorite band, or movie studios. In turn, those advertisers would provide microtarged ads to Facebook users, and the site would be worth beyond its $10 billion valuation. But they tried that in 2007, and users balked, partially because Facebook wasn’t even doing a very good job of delivering these microtargeted ads. I think a Facebook that’s — and this is key — non-intrusively gathering data for advertisers would be worth $15 billion. A Facebook that can’t do that — by which I mean to say, the Facebook you use today — is worth considerably less. Of course, they could always make actual dollars by doing as Google did in 2004 and putting out an IPO. >back to article

H/T to nobihaya for the photo of Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg introducing Facebook in Japan last year.

So I’m applying for a job this morning through a company’s online submission site, when I come across this unusual “yes/no” question:

Can you perform the duties of this job?

At first, I think it’s a trick question. Maybe it’s a Freudian statement of sort: the id says yes, but the super ego says no. Or maybe it’s just a lonely Proustian questionnaire.

And then I look at the next line: “If no, please state the reason.” And it occurs to me: they’re not asking for existential analysis. They actually want to know if you’re capable of doing the job that you’ve just spent the last 20 minutes applying for.

Which makes me wonder: has anyone — after a third of an hour and seven pages of tedious résumé reentry — ever looked at that question and realized, “Oh, hell, I’m not qualified for this job at all”?

So I’m sitting at a bar in D.C. on Thursday. The Lakers-Nuggets game is on half the TVs. The Canes-Pens game is on almost all of the rest, except for one lone screen in the far corner, which is showing the Orioles game ^1.. The basketball game goes to commercial, and suddenly, the booth next to ours breaks out into song. There is no karaoke machine nearby, and they’re not singing along to the music playing in the bar.

And just when I’m about to give up, I look up at the TV hanging over their booth. A taxi driver wearing massively oversized glasses is singing on screen.

It’s at that moment that I realize the booth next to ours is singing along to a Heineken commercial, even though the TV is muted.

Sure, Budweiser might’ve blown a few million on ads during the Super Bowl, and Miller might’ve generated some buzz with their one second ad, but it’s Heineken — in, of all things, a PSA for designated driving — that has the best new beer ad of 2009 ^2..

When an ad campaign can vault a song from 1990 ^3. into the iTunes top ten — hell, when bar patrons are compelled to sing along to a television on mute — then it’s doing something right.

I’m just not sure what that something is yet.

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1.) A trick question: The Washington Nationals are playing a game that’s broadcast on television. A sports bar in Washington, D.C., has over 50 televisions. What is the likelihood that a single television at the bar will be showing the game? (Actual answer on Thursday night: zero). >return to article

2.) Dos Equis’ “The Most Interesting Man in the World” ad — which also broke out this year, thanks to a few quotable lines — actually launched in 2007. >return to article

3.) It’s been a big month for Biz Markie. He’s also gotten involved in former Democratic National Committee chairman Terry McAuliffe’s Virginia gubernatorial campaign. >return to article

For some background about the ad, click here.