Yesterday I heard that my old newspaper was laying off more people. I’ve been gone from there nearly four years and it still punched me in the gut, not just because more people were losing their jobs but also because the layoffs were linked to consolidations that had been recommended as far back as 2005. A big part of me is relieved I left in 2010. Ive enjoyed a great deal of time with my daughters that I otherwise would have missed. Moreover, there is a good chance the unending stress and sense of doom would have gone from unbearable to unlivable. They’ve had multiple rounds of layoffs and a constant threat of closure since I departed. That might have made me suicidal. I maintained some sense of detachment regarding the news about my old newspaper until today, when I read about the two journalists shot in Afghanistan. When I got into journalism, many (maybe most) of my colleagues thought the job was important enough to warrant risking daily danger. Ive worked with people who seemed willing to die for the job. I don’t think I’m alone in my conviction that without journalism to force examination of corruption and injustice, the United States would become a terrible place to live. But while journalists continue to give their lives for the job (more than 1,000 have died as a direct result of their work since 1992), the majority of Americans seem to no longer accord that job sufficient value. Pay has steadily declined in newspapers since 2008. At this point it is back to near the average it was in 1993. Employment in the newspaper business is at historic lows and is undoubtedly headed lower. (At The Star-Ledger the newsroom once had 350 people, with the latest news 40 of the remaining 167 are being laid off.) Its hard to swallow. Being a newspaper man was the only thing I wanted to be from the moment I was hired by my first newspaper, a tiny weekly in Dillsburg, PA. Beyond that, I was pretty good at doing a job that I considered damn important. It isn’t just that I don’t do that job anymore, but also that a great many people in this country don’t seem to think there is much need for anyone to do that job. They act as if it won’t matter at all should all the newspapers close and America be left with the sensationalistic twaddle of local TV news (which is also in financial trouble) or the heavily biased voices of so many internet sites that pretend to do journalism (while relying heavily on what is disparagingly called Main Stream or Liberal Media for initial reporting). I always considered it a blessing to work at something I loved. It wasnt a job, it was a vocation -- a calling. Now I get to watch that thing die. Newspapers have what may be a terminal disease. They are manual labor intensive at a time when technology is making such business models economically infeasible. Whats happening is inevitable and it doesnt matter at all to the outcome whether I watch it from inside or outside. But I have to watch, because, in the end, thats what journalists are -- observers. To turn away is to betray everything in which they believe. They look, then they tell the story of what they saw (in best cases with at least an attempt at fairness and balance). Which seems a rather bleak and fruitless hobby, especially if no one is listening. theatlantic/infocus/2014/04/photojournalist-anja-niedringhaus-killed-in-afghanistan/100710/
Posted on: Fri, 04 Apr 2014 18:33:35 +0000
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