A lot of ink and pixels have been spilled recently over the
relationship between journalism and blogging. As a working
journalist who is frequently mistaken for a blogger, I have
some ideas.
The difference mainly has to do with who the audience is.
A journalist is someone who gets paid to make calls and ask
questions on behalf of a set of readers. Usually editors and
publishers are involved as well, and very often advertisers
who interested in the readers.
Even before the first question is asked, what the person
on the other end of the line inevitably wants to know (whether
they say it or not) is, "Oh yeah? Who wants to know?"
When I started out as a reporter in Chicago, using dimes
to call desk sergeants at police stations around some sector
of the city, I sometimes didn't even bother to tell my name.
I'd say, "City Press, sergeant. Anything going on there?"
It was a rare cop who didn't have a joke or a beef in return.
Kids like me had been covering routine crime and courts in
Chicago for the City News Bureau, a wire service cooperatively
owned by the city's daily newspapers, since 1890. We reported
to a small corps of seasoned editors.
Later, I learned the power that lay behind various brands.
What a different reception I got, depending on whether I was
asking the question on behalf of the readers of Pacific
Stars and Stripes or Newsweek. If
anything, the gap was even greater between The Wall
Street Journal and Forbes.
And during the many years I wrote for The Boston Globe, to call a source was to risk a substantial discussion
of the affairs of the rest of the paper, before we could get
down to business. Reporting for a well-established organization
invariably meant operating with an extensive and complicated
penumbra.
When I started identifying myself as calling on behalf of
Economic Principals,
an awkward silence frequently ensued. If asked, I'd explain
that I was working for myself. Professional economists
almost without exception returned my emails and phone calls.
The few who didn't were policy types.
Those less acquainted with what I did often had problems.
One Russia specialist, for example, slyly described this site
as my "hobby." Worse yet, people asked if I had retired.
Far from it. This weekly is the regular visible expression
of a continuing career in economic journalism. It is,
in fact, about to play a more conspicuous part.
Economic Principals
migrated from a newspaper to the Web at a time when blogs
were almost unknown. The circumstances were opaque. As a long-time
columnist, I had been suddenly forbidden to write about politics
by the editor who The New York Times Co. hired to head The
Boston Globe. I tried,
but found I couldn't stop altogether. The editor, Martin Baron,
killed the column and I quit the newspaper.
Five weeks later I started writing online. Before long, I
joined up with Sabre Foundation and went looking other angels
to foot the bill for what even then seemed like an unusual
enterprise. The only two roughly similar undertakings known
to me in those days were those by Mickey Kaus
and Andrew Sullivan, both
of them well-established journalists.
Today there are an estimated jillion blogs. The community
is said to be growing explosively. So powerful a force is
the new medium that it acquired a name practically overnight
-- the blogosphere.
What's a blog? Etymologically speaking, it's a contraction
of Web-log. Editorially, these personal vehicles range
from intense explorations of particular angles of vision to
a simple daily expression of opinion on everything that comes
into the writer's head.
The mechanism that makes blogs work is the ease with which
they can call attention to one another through links -- a single
click and you can be redirected half way around the world;
another click and you return, for free. There is no friction
on the Web.
This constitutes a mechanism for what social scientist call
collaborative filtering. Blogging and linking to other
blogs, becomes an exercise in collective judgment similar
to, say the pop music market, except that no money changes
hands. A little like the market for scarce commercial radio
airtime, linking has the effect of identifying a relative
handful of favorites and then amplifying their influence until
they become the favorites of a much larger group. The process
also has something in common with the gradual construction
of scientific consensus through the etiquette of citation.
But with most blogs, unlike science or, for that matter,
newspapering, the prize is much more likely to be novelty
than truth. Many of them take the form of intense conversation
among a relatively small group of people interested in the
same things -- the written-down and permanently-preserved equivalent
of talk radio, rather than a progressive narrowing of disagreement
that is the essence of science, or news.
True, if your blog happens to contain material of immediate
interest to a large audience -- if you are a soldier in Iraq,
say, or a particularly witty observer like Wonkette
in the middle of an intense political campaign, you can get
millions of hits. Just last week The Washington Post had a
good
story on the ups and downs of war blogs from Iraq. And
the best-edited Websites featuring a portfolio of contributors
(I have in mind Slate in particular) have managed to create
the excitement of a good magazine.
Economic Principals has refrained from the practice of linking
because it is a journalistic enterprise, not a blog. That
is, it is directed mainly at readers who are not themselves
bloggers, and competes for those readers' attention with other
journalists, chiefly newspaper reporters and columnists.
What readers? Economists and intelligent laypersons interested
in developments inside economics, of course.
The blogosphere is here to stay. On a truly big story, bloggers
have shown that they can interpose themselves briefly but
with great effect, as, for instance, when a tsunami swept
the Indian Ocean, or in last year's story of the Swift Boat
Veterans for Truth. They are a new and welcome check on entrenched
power. But from a global point of view, the blogosphere is
a complement to other media, not a substitute.
Newspapers are likely to remain our most powerful engines
of discovery for many years to come. For one thing, it is
hard to envisage a better device for displaying the news than
the familiar paper product -- swiftly scanned, easily clipped,
a very tangible form of budget constraint. Only so many stories
can fit on a front page.
For another, only newspapers will be able to meet the enormous
fixed cost of maintaining a staff of expert editors and reporters
who work together to perform what they like to call "the daily
miracle:" the hashing-out of a reasonably coherent answer
to the question every morning: What's going on out there?
You don't have to have lot of paying customers to represent
the public interest, however. A relative handful will do.
So after three and a half years, Economic Principals is switching
to a new, a two-tier business model. Early access to the email
version for paying subscribers. The regular www.economicprincipals.com site
for everyone else.
The first step in this evolution came last year when EP gave
up foundation support. Now EP is looking for around five hundred
citizens willing to pay $50 a year to support an independent
voice in economic journalism. The idea is to put some force
behind the questions asked. Something like $25,000 is enough
to make the business work.
And what will subscribers get in return? They will continue
to receive the email version, which moves Sunday at 0900 GMT,
in time for breakfast in Europe, and about a day ahead of
the weekly's posting on the web. They'll get regular behind-the-scenes
reports as well, and a slightly enhanced level of access.
Economic Principals welcomes tips, hints, opinions and complaints
from all readers. But
subscribers get what amounts to a vote.
Mostly, supporters will enjoy the warm and fuzzy feeling
that comes from furthering an enterprise that's clearly needed,
in a world that seems to be retreating from independent coverage
of the economics profession. Economic Principals'
attention to Harvard University's failed Russia Project (the
Andrei Shleifer affair) is an obvious example. But a quick
tour of the archives will disclose all kinds of stories that
don't get written elsewhere.
The new policy will take effect on October 16. It will be
further described in a series of short letters to existing
subscribers in coming weeks. And if it doesn't work?
The great advantage of having experimented with various alternatives
forms of organization is clarity. This time, I am prepared to take no for an answer.