Media teaching versus media research

The weekend prior to Thanksgiving I attended the annual Lilly Conference on Higher Education, at Miami University of Ohio. This was a long weekend full of interesting and engaging (well, most of the time) presentations on how to make teaching and learning more effective. Right after I got back I read a piece by Scott McLemee ("Meet the Press") in Inside Higher Ed. McLemee argues that, in the broader public debate about journalism's role in society, academic media analysis "plays no part at all, at least in its theoretically articulated variants" in influencing that debate. In other words, most of the academic research in the field of communication and media studies has little direct impact on journalists and their bosses as they go about their work. The problem is that even the best academic analyses in the field of media studies don't have "traction" within newsrooms. Or, as McLemee puts it: "The most subtle and cogent analysis by a rhetorician of how The Times or CNN frames its stories has all the pertinence to a reporter or editor that a spectrographic analysis of jalapeno powder would to someone cooking chili."

I'd agree with that, up to a point, though I'd argue that academic media studies do have a palpable influence on journalism, though it's slow, indirect and often hard to find--apart from anything else, working journalists hate to admit to being directly influenced by academic studies once they've entered the field. And that brings me to teaching and learning in higher ed. Because I think that professors in communication are best served by striving to show comm students how to be more critically aware media producers and media consumers while they're still at college. This is especially important in the U.S., which has a woefully inadequate record of teaching media literacy in high school (in sharp contrast to countries such as Canada, Australia, and England). I could write a dozen peer-reviewed scholarly journal articles analyzing the media's role in society. Yes, I believe that sort of scholarly activity still has worth (for one thing, it shows that published professors do have real expertise in their field of inquiry; and some of the ideas and findings from all this research does eventually seep through into the professional press and even into the newsrooms). But ultimately, for me, it's more important to try and have some direct impact on my students -- to help them become better critical thinkers. And one of the best ways for them to do that is to conduct some original analysis and research of their own. The extent to which I can facilitate that is the extent to which I'll be an effective educator.

In that spirit, McLemee concludes his piece as follows:

It is now much easier to publish and broadcast than ever before. In other words, the power to cover and event or a topic has increased. But the skills necessary to foster meaningful discussion are not programmed into the software. They have to be cultivated.

That’s where people from academe come in. The most substantial interventions in shaping mass media probably won’t come from conference papers and journal articles, but in the classroom — by giving the future citizen journalist access, not just to technology, but to cognitive tools.

So research does have an important and ongoing role to play--as long as it stays closely connected to student learning. That applies whether it's me doing the research or the students.

Hope you all had a happy--and safe--Thanksgiving.

Clear Channel's profits not so clear anymore

It seems that newspapers are not the only media that are hurting (relatively speaking) these days. Big radio, billboard, and live entertainment operation Clear Channel has also seen its profits take a hit of late. The company's third-quarter profits dropped 21 percent. Of course, they're still making big profits, but not as big as before. As NPR's Morning Edition notes, Clear Channel is even trying to tinker with its bland, homogenized, boring, corporate-friendly image. They'd like to make their product more lively and appealing. But the company can't do more than tinker, since any serious change in strategy risks driving its profits down much further.

The NPR piece, by Neda Ulaby, also notes the grassroots drive for more lively "Free Radio," i.e., over-the-air broadcast radio that isn't as stagnant and boring as it usually is in this day and age (thanks in large part to Clear Channel and its clones). The threat from satellite subscription services such as XM and Sirius Satellite Radio is only going to grow, and these services could end up consigning over-the-air broadcast services to a desolate wasteland. It's clear that if "free" radio is to stay relevant and innovative, it'll have to shake off overlarge corporate owners like Clear Channel. The NPR piece also refers to a speech by Clear Channel president Mark Mays, who'd like to do away with the last vestiges of FCC ownership and public interest regulations, so it could grow even bigger (the company already own more than 1250 stations, including many of the biggest stations in numerous media markets, and it is by far the biggest owner of radio stations in the U.S.). If Clear Channel were allowed to buy up essentially everything else, it would simply ramp up its corporate strategy--of promoting bland, boring, standardized music--to an even greater degree. Clear Channel's part of the problem, not part of the solution. Its continued dominance will only facilitate broadcast radio's death spiral.

Good Night, and Good Luck

Last week I got a chance to see Good Night, and Good Luck, the George Clooney-directed film that deals with the events surrounding the clash between CBS news legend Edward R. Murrow and anti-Communist nutter Senator Joseph McCarthy. The film focuses narrowly on Murrow and his friend and news producer at CBS, Fred Friendly, both of whom worked on the CBS news special program See it Now in the early '50s. Murrow and McCarthy used this news vehicle in late 1953 and early 1954 to take a sharp editorial jab at McCarthy, who was at the time using his Senatorial position to pursue a rabidly anti-Communist witchhunt that served to reinforce his own personal power and megalomania. (For some more historical background, see this piece in Wikipedia.)

As for the film: I liked it, as did many serious film reviewers, including Roger Ebert and my wife. Actually, I have to take a cue from my wife, who thought the depiction of Murrow's crusading journalism was well acted, unexpectedly funny, and gave some fascinating insights into how network television operated in its infancy. And I have to agree with Slate.com's David Edelstein, who proclaims it "a damn good movie!"

I also have to agree with my wife in concluding that the film was less preachy than I expected. Although it does come across as being very righteous (as American journalists do sometimes), I don't find that particularly irritating in this case. But some people did, it seems. And this brings me to Edelstein's colleague at Slate, Jack Shafer, who remains critical of what he calls the film's oversimplistic approach to history. Unfortunately, the media historian in me is compelled to pay attention to what appears to be a critique based on historical fact rather than the formal qualities of the film, which Shafer readily admits are quite superior. All the same, he takes the following position:

A terrific movie about the Murrow-McCarthy duel could be made, mind you, but Clooney and company ignore the material that might argue against their simple-minded thesis about Murrow, the era, and the press to produce an after-school special. It's a shame, too, because Good Night, and Good Luck's unbeatable production values and sharp performances constitute key ingredients of a great historical drama. Plus, Clooney is an able director, artfully meshing the original documentary film footage from Murrow's weekly CBS series, See It Now, with recreations of the studio end of the broadcasts.

But it all goes wrong with the naive screenplay, written by Clooney and his collaborator, fellow actor/producer Grant Heslov. Plowing through the Murrow and McCarthy literature after viewing the film, I was impressed at how deeply Clooney and Heslov researched the topic yet dismayed at how they cherry-picked material to compose their sermon.

I suppose I'm a little ambivalent about Shafer's take. Yes, he's right in registering his disapproval of the oversimplification of the events surrounding the Murrow-McCarthy showdown. This is often a criticism levelled at historical dramas. But the thing is, it's a movie. And yes, Murrow's personal role in the "takedown" of McCarthy is overplayed (McCarthy's reputation and ability to instill fear was already waning by the time Murrow got involved). But movies typically have to simplify the always-complex world of material facts and interpretations down to one or two core themes that drive the narrative along. And movies have to have a strong central character/protagonist/hero to act as the focus for the narrative. You can always argue for packing in more facts, but the danger is that we get too bogged down in the minutiae, and lose sight of the overall story, the "big picture." Film does the big-picture, dominant narrative stuff very well. This film goes farther than most in presenting the details of the clash in near-documentary form (if anything, the film has the feel of a '50s teleplay or anthology drama, and fittingly so). But it can't convey the true complexity of the situation. For that we have books, and thank God for that!

Traditional newspapers are hurting

To the list of challenges faced by newspapers -- declining circulation, rising newsprint costs and increased competition from more up-to-the-minute media -- add another: rising pressure from investors to make more money and reverse sliding stock prices.

So begins a Washington Post piece (by Frank Ahrens) on the continuing woes besetting media comapnies that are still concentrated in the traditional newspaper business.

The news peg is the latest development involving the troubled Knight Ridder group, which owns 32 titles, including the Philadelphia Inquirer, the San Jose Mercury News, and the Miami Herald.

Of course Knight Ridder isn't the only newspaper company having problems. Notes the Post:

Knight Ridder is vulnerable to a sell-off because its stock price has steadily declined, and the same holds true for other major media companies that own newspapers. Gannett Co.'s stock is down 21 percent over the past year, The Washington Post Co.'s is down 19 percent and the New York Times Co.'s is down 30 percent -- opening the door to shareholder dissent.

This development also adds context to Tribune Media's own newspaper woes, recounted in a previous mediaville post. Tribune "recently secured a profit margin of 'only' 17.5 per cent (high by almost any other industry's measures, but low for the obscenely profitable mainstream media)." And as I noted then, "Tribune's making bags of money but not enough, because Wall Street expects it to make even more." (And of course this means that Tribune's managers and its shareholders are willing to see deep cuts to get their profit margins up.)

Ahrens does raise an interesting point: "Some within the industry think newspapers are better suited to private rather than public ownership," he notes. "Private companies attempt to minimize earnings, which are taxable, and maximize cash flow, which can be used to pay down debts. Public companies, however, are pressured to maximize earnings to appease shareholders."

Does Al Gore really hold the future of TV?

Remember Al Gore? You know, the guy who was supposed to win (well, probably did win) the 2000 Presidential race but somehow never made it to the White House? We haven't heard much from him since those dark days. Following his defeat in the Supreme Court, he famously grew a beard, briefly taught graduate journalists at Columbia, and has been spending more time back in his native Tennessee, where he is steadily rebuilding bridges in his home state (which notoriously failed to vote for him in 2000) as rumors persist that he'll make another presidential run in 2008. Wikipedia also lists his current activities as chairing a company called Generation Investment Management, sitting on Apple Computer's board of directors, and serving "as an unofficial advisor to Google's senior management."

The role that has recently drawn the most attention to Gore - certainly in media circles - is his partnership in the new cable and web TV enterprise, Current TV, which went on air on August 1 this year. Gore and partner Joel Hyatt have set up the new network - based in San Francisco - in an effort to do something radically different with television. It seems like he might be on to something. Here's how a recent USA Today article ("Akimbo, Current Media could embody TV's next generation") introduces us to the operation.

Two decades ago, if you wanted to see how cable would change TV, you might've visited Turner Broadcasting and MTV, just to soak up what was going on. Today, there's no question the Internet is going to alter television — not make TV go away, but make it different. So whom do you visit to check out where this is heading? Could be a lot of contenders, but while I'm in San Francisco, I can hit two on the same day: Current and Akimbo.

Akimbo, btw, is another nascent TV hybrid operation that seems to act like a "super-TiVO" for "niche video-almost-on-demand". Its main claim to fame seems to be that it's being run by a chap called Will Hearst, who apparently is a grandson of 19th Century newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst. But the Current TV operation sounds like it's the more interesting venture of the two. As USA Today notes, Gore and Hyatt are thinking about television in a very different way," as they attempt to integrate TV and web operations more symbiotically than ever before. "Current is using the Internet to make its viewers a meaningful part of the TV channel. More than 30% of the segments on Current are produced by amateurs and are sent in through the website." (I haven't got to see the TV version yet, but I have dug around on the web site to see the type of material being submitted and aired.)

Here's how the system works: Anyone can use a digital video camcorder to create a five-minute story — or “pod” in the Current lingo — and upload it to www.current.tv. Then the site's users view the pods and vote on them. The pods that rise to the top — a sliver of the number sent in — are considered for the Current TV channel.

Before launch, Current executives thought they'd be lucky to get enough good-quality content from viewers to fill maybe 5% of airtime, says Joanna Drake Earl, who runs Current's Web operations. But they were amazed at what came in. “It looks and feels different, but we love the rawness,” she says.

So the channel has wound up with pods about religious-themed haunted funhouses, amateur kickball and young Afghans who work out with weights while admiring 1970s posters of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Back in early August, right after the station started operations, NPR ran a piece that noted how the station was designed to "snag the short attention span of young people who don't normally watch the news." Clearly, though, no-one back then had a clear idea whether this exercise in truly interactive TV would take off. NPR quoted commentator (and USC professor) Todd Boyd, who refelected that the programming looked a little like "a cross between an earlier version of MTV, CNN, and the Internet." Boyd focused on how it was hard to imagine Al Gore being associated with anything "hip." Yet three months later, it seems as if Gore has hit upon something that connects to "the kids."

USA Today concludes: "For the past decade, the Internet has opened the door for people and subjects that wouldn't otherwise make it into mainstream media. Current is now using that opening to change mainstream media. And the industry is paying attention."

NPR goes from strength to strength

National Public Radio--by far the most important source of noncommercial radio in the United States--continues to prosper and grow. In a recent Chicago Tribune piece (registration required), Phil Rosenthal noted how the loose national network of public radio stations has doubled its national audience, from 13 to 26 million, in just the past six years. And they've done it without having to worry too much about impressing Wall Street and corporate investors.

Rosenthal also states that "listen to an NPR program for 30 seconds and you know you're listening to NPR." Actually I'd say it's more like five seconds. To me, NPR sounds so different to just about everything else on the dial--whenever I'm driving long distances and searching for the local NPR station, I find I can recognize it almost instantly. The measured tones of the presenters are streets away from the exhortations of commercial DJs and talk radio hosts, who often seem to prefer just ranting at their audiences.

Yes, some might complain that NPR is still compromised by having to raise revenue from sponsorships, foundation support, and of course support "from listeners like you." Even so, and perhaps because the rest of American radio is so bad, NPR sounds so good. And public radio is going from strength to strength: Rosenthal notes that, while other news operations are cutting back, NPR's "in the midst of a $15 million, three-year plan to add 45 staffers and open new bureaus, including one in West Africa."

What future for network news?

What is network news going to look like five years from now? Twenty years ago, or even ten years ago, a pretty confident answer would have been "Pretty much the same as it looks now." Now, with the networks under ever greater pressure from cable, satellite and Internet, and the old troika of Dan Rather, Tom Brokaw and Peter Jennings gone, the answer is much less certain. In fact, no-one has a clue what network news will be like five years from now -- or even six months from now.

In a piece in the New York Times Business section, Bill Carter asks five key questions that need to be resolved in the near future:

• "Who will anchor the ABC evening news after the death of Peter Jennings?
  
• "Who will eventually take over the CBS evening newscast, if CBS will even have a traditional anchor format on the program?
  
• "Who will lead NBC News, which is still without a permanent president?
  
• "Will the long-running ABC News program 'Nightline' be able to survive with an ensemble anchor team replacing the program's highly regarded anchor/patriarch, Ted Koppel?
  
• "Will the evening newscasts at each network be regarded as lesser programs in comparison with the far more profitable morning news programs like 'Today' and 'Good Morning.'"

These questions all cut to the core of what we think "network news" should be all about. Are we still talking about the dominant construct, which has remained that of an the all-powerful nightly network news, headed by the all-powerful network news anchor defining America's universe for all its people. This construct, which crystalized in the 1960s, has been steadily undermined in recent years as total network news audiences have slipped, and those audiences that remain skew older (advertisers don't like older audiences). But the core idea of an early evening, 30-minute national network news broadcast has remained scarosanct - up till now. Will that remain the case? Recalling the era of Edward R. Murrow, Huntley and Brinkley and Walter Cronkite, we might regret that today's network news divisions are mere shadows of their former selves, but we can still recognize today's entities as direct line descendants of these paragons of the (so-called) "golden age of television". With the passing of the "old guard", will we be able to say this in five years? What kind of people will take the place of Brokaw, Rather, Jennings, Koppel et al.?

Certainly the network news shows are still pulling in national audiences - between 22 and 25 million per night, according to Carter - that dwarf those of the cable networks. But is that enough? And these numbers diminish with each passing year. The morning news shows still remain profitable and healthy, but these are increasingly turning to entertainment news. What's to be done? Everything is up in the air for the network planners. Maybe it should be. Maybe the old network news construct, built in an era when 95% of Americans watched the same three TV stations, is simply no longer tenable. If that's the case, what's going to replace it?

A vote for product placement

The Economist magazine has come out in favor of product placement - something I've drawn attention to in the past (see, e.g., Can we avoid the ads any more?). The news peg is that the European Union is planning to legalize product placement, which has not surprisingly led to some stiff opposition in a continent that is often less friendly toward commercial interests than is the case in the U.S. My natural inclination is with the European critics - to say "No more ads, please!"; but the economically libertarian Economist demurs, and bases its argument for allowing product placement precisely on the point that annoys so many about so much modern advertising: its ubiquity and the relentlessness of its commercial message, both at the conscious and subconscious levels. In a commentary piece, "Ride and Prejudice" (paid registration required), the journal reminds us that

if advertising that slips imperceptably into people's brains were to be banned, a great deal of what goes on would be outlawed. After all, drivers spinning past hoardings don't necessarily consciously clock the message they've seen; often they file it unconsciously -- as you, flicking through these pages [of the magazine], may well absorb the notion that an expensive watch or a new phone will change your life in some vague but enticing way.

So the argument for allowing product placement is that product placement is already all around us, in every sphere of our lives, thanks to ever-increasing advertising "clutter" in all walks of life in our society; deal with it! European TV producers should at least be able to make some money under the circumstances. Unfortunately, it's an argument as compelling as it is sad.