Yves here. Richard Murphy makes a critical point about the focus of media, that its notion of what amounts to news has become more divorced than ever from the concerns in most people’s daily lives. However, I am surprised at his sense of mystification as to how this came about. Admittedly, the causes in the UK may not be as obvious as in the US.
In no particular order:
The media has long had much of its content consist of purveying propaganda. The father of the public relations industry (and also Sigmund Freud’s nephew), Edward Bernays, wrote in his 1926 book Propaganda that half the stories on the front page of the New York Times were propaganda (he did a count on a representative day). He defined propaganda as “A consistent, enduring effort to create or shape events to influence the relations of the public to an enterprise, idea or group.”
At least in the US, newspapers increased their amount of “lifestyle” content to sell more ads. This of course would tend to be upscale lifestyles, since that’s where the ad dollars are. My impression is that this really got serious uptake in the 1990s, with book and movie review sections then leading to food (as in upscale cooking), health, real estate (shelter porn, as opposed to listings) and other advertiser-pleasing sections.
The increased effectiveness of businesses and governments in messaging has made it legitimately harder to do bona fide reporting. In 1999, I met then then New York Times reporter who had opened the Shanghai office for the Wall Street Journal in 1993 and returned to the US in 1999 shortly before jumping ship to the Times. He said he was stunned at how much the practice of journalism in the US had changed during his six year absence. When he left, it was possible to get to the bottom of most developments in the then-normal 24 hour news cycle. When he returned, not only had various spin-meisters gotten much better at telling their tales and deflecting inquiries, but also news cycles had shortened, thanks to the Internet.
The end of the ban on local media cross ownership. The FCC had banned the cross-ownership of local newspapers and local broadcasters in the same market in 1975. The explicit point of that rule was to foster a diversity of viewpoints. It was effectively ended with the Telecommunications Act of 1996. Touted as a way to increase competition, it instead resulted in considerable consolidation.
The Internet-induced end of classified ads gutted news budgets and over time reduced subscription revenues. Classified ads had accounted for roughly half of newspaper ad revenues. Not only was that stead income, but by coming from many small customers, it meant the publication did not have to worry about catering to business interests. The same was true of subscription income. As both eroded, newspapers, which had traditionally done the heavy lifting of news reporting, found themselves income-starved and more dependent on corporate display ads. The latter meant that content deemed offensive to them meant less ad revenues.
The resulting collapse in funding for reporting had further knock on effects, all detrimental to covering topics of interest to ordinary citizens. The first was industry consolidation, as many small and medium-sized city papers failed or were acquired by chains, resulting in a big reduction in local news coverage. Second over time was a class shift in newsroom staffing. I am not sure how this came about, but traditionally, local reporters and columnists typically came from blue collar backgrounds. That contributed to scrappy tenacity and limited willingness to accept things on the mere say-so of important people. Increasingly, at now-bigger-on-average news outlets, the writing positions are filled by grads of Ivies or other pretty status-y schools. They want to be welcome at parties with their peers. The great Michael M. Thomas pointed out how those incentives were backwards: “They were dining with people they should be dining on.”1
Readers may have additional factors to add. I would be curious to learn what the forces at work were in the UK.
By Richard Murphy, part-time Professor of Accounting Practice at Sheffield University Management School, director of the Corporate Accountability Network, member of Finance for the Future LLP, and director of Tax Research LLP. Originally published at Fund the Future
The world of politics remains in apparent lockdown.
The UK news media has almost nothing to say for itself, based on the morning’s newsletters from them, to which I subscribe.
Overnight, we learned, as if it were a surprise, that Elon Musk is a fan of the so-called Tommy Robinson. That makes it very clear precisely where on the political spectrum he, the incoming US administration, and, for that matter, Farage stand when it comes to politics. Robinson is, of course, currently serving time and was a very obvious aggravator in last summer’s race riots.
That apart, the feeling that much of the news is generated to feed the demands of the media rather than relating to matters that might be of real concern is strong as a result. Do we really need anything like the coverage that we actually get to know what is really going on in the world? In fact, is much of what passes as news really put out as cover for what is really happening? Does it simply provide dopamine hits for journalists, and maybe politicians, whilst actually ignoring the real issues of concern?
We get a great deal of tittle-tattle.
We receive endless reports of the day’s supposed political events, most of which are artificially generated for this purpose.
We have the endless regurgitating of press releases.
But do we get news stories on what really matters? Where is the coverage or poverty, the loss of hope, the endless grind of trying to make ends meet, and the crises for families who cannot get the education their child needs, the social care a family member needs, or the medical appointment that they have been told is required?
Where come to that, when it comes to economics, are the stories on the debt burdens of households for whom high interest rates continue to mean massive familial stress and so much more? And where are the stories about people whose lives are made miserable by the relentless demands of work, with the risk of burnout that they create, often on minimum wage?
These are real stories. They go unreported, and yet they are the lived experience of many, whilst the media is intent on telling them tales of lives so remote from the reality of most of us that they have almost no meaning at all.
Is it a surprise that so many do not pay any attention to the news?
And could that almost be deliberate? Is it better, in the eyes of the politician, that we do not notice what is going on around us so that we do not critically appraise the performance (or lack thereof) of those self-same politicians?
But might it be that this is also the reason why the far-right can recruit – because detachment from reality is already hard-baked into our society, and so believing the tales that the far-right has to tell becomes so much easier?
I stress these are musings written off the cuff in reaction to the absence of news. However, as a wise person once told me, always look at what is not reported when you want to find out what is going on. Even in the absence of many of the so-called normal news stories that generally populate the press and broadcast media, the real issues in life are not getting a look in. And might it be that this is the issue? Are we living in a world where politicians and the media are so used to playing a game that revolves around each other that they cannot, will not, or do not want to face up to the reality of life as it is, which is why the right-wing fantasists get their chance?
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1 In fairness, Thomas made that observation apropos what he regarded as the beginning of the end of the New York Times, when Punch Sulzberger joined the board of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But IMHO Thomas’ point is generally applicable.