Tag: new york

  • This is no way to save the news

    California legislators have amended a bill written by newspaper lobbyists — and made it worse. New York has enacted a law pushed by newspapers to give tax dollars to newspapers — excluding some broadcasters and the true future of news: digital and not-for-profit newsrooms. And Canada further demonstrates what a disaster its newspaper lobbyists have caused with a law that drove news off Facebook and Instagram.

    The newspaper industry in both countries is in great measure controlled by hedge funds. The only investment they make is in lobbyists to write protectionist legislation. The publishers blame technology for their own failures, seek payoffs for themselves, and threaten to expand copyright and diminish fair use to the detriment of internet freedoms. 

    The field of journalism is a disaster from top (The New York Times and day-by-day The Washington Post) to bottom (Gannett, Media News Group, Sinclair). I will leave that lament for another day. Now I want to look at the latest in the legislation and its perils. 

    California’s tax on reading

    The California Journalism Preservation Act — which I dissect in detail in a paper I was commissioned to research for the state Chamber of Commerce — has been amended. It is no longer an explicit link tax. 

    The bill demands payments from platforms for “accessing” news content online. That is a tax on reading. That is noxious to the Constitution and to an enlightened society. 

    It requires platforms to negotiate — though it’s not clear with whom — or submit to arbitration, paying a fee — with no cap — to “journalism providers” (undefined) based on number of journalists (including freelancers). 

    The bill now exempts only one technology company from its reading tax: any platform that earns at least half its revenue from “the manufacturing and sales of company-branded devices and hardware to consumers.” Guess who. That demonstrates that Apple has even better lobbyists than the newspaper industry.

    Most of my problems with the bill remain: It still supports newspapers owned by hedge funds and national broadcasting companies. It still ends up supporting many out-of-state and national companies that have someone in California. It has another constitutionally troubling clause forbidding platforms from “retaliating” against news companies with whom they do not forge agreements by no longer linking to or changing ranking or placement of their content. That is a clear violation of the Copyright Act and Supremacy Clause and of the First Amendment. Compelled speech is not free speech. (This law would be locked in the courts for years.) Further, the bill sets no standards for what qualifies as journalism (though we would not want government to define that), opening the door to supporting pink slime and propaganda. Finally, there is no accountability.

    Last week, I went to Sacramento — brought there by the Chamber — and spoke with legislative aides in the offices of members of the Senate Judiciary Committee, which will hold a hearing on the bill on June 25. (I might testify.) I’d never done such a thing and it was a fascinating and heartening exercise in democracy. Their doors were open and they were all ready to listen. I gave them my paper and in conversation presented them with a nightmare scenario and with alternatives. 

    The nightmare is being endured in Canada, where passage of Bill C-18 led to Meta pulling news off Facebook and Instagram and ending all support for journalism while Google agreed to pay $73 million (US) but ended other support. (More on this below.) My fear for California is that Meta will follow through on the same vow there, banishing news, and that Google will kill its voluntary Google News Initiative (GNI), taking down a number of valued programs it supports. At the ISOJ conference in Austin a few weeks ago, I heard the editor of a major newspaper from California talk about what a good and useful funder GNI has been. 

    In an L.A. Times report, I was relieved to see Sen. Tom Umberg, chair of the Judiciary Committee, take these concerns to heart. “I believe that we could screw up so that we make it so expensive that the platforms don’t carry [journalism] content,” he said. “That would be catastrophic.” Indeed.

    As an alternative, I suggested that the legislators look to something like New Jersey’s Civic Information Consortium — which distributes grants based on its goals and the quality of proposals, requiring accountability, instead of automatically doling out money to hedge funds’ and conglomerates’ P&Ls via newsrooms on the basis of say, number of employees. The Consortium’s fund is managed by a board appointed by top public universities and the legislature on a bipartisan basis. Such a fund could underwrite initiatives like a California version of Montclair State’s NJ News Commons, which provides support and training for local news proprietors; projects like KQED’s quality news sharing network; efforts to bring coverage to undercovered communities, addressing a long history of inequity in media; and perhaps investment in startups like Lookout Santa Cruz (winner of a Pulitzer Prize this year). Such a fund could also require accountability.

    In Canada and Australia before it, legislation aimed at the platforms did not end up taking effect. Google (in both countries) and Meta (in Australia) voluntarily contributed to news and thus earned exemptions from the laws. Unfortunately, I don’t yet see such an opportunity in California. Google has made an offer involving contributions of unused R&D tax credits, a large contribution to a fund, and help raising further contributions from other tech companies, which could add up to well more than $100 million a year. I hope that legislators will look seriously at what this could accomplish. I also hope they will try to foster collaboration rather than divorce for journalists and technologists — especially now, with the advent of AI. If anyone should enable such cooperation, surely it should be California, headquarters state of the internet.

    If such agreement could be reached, legislators may take credit for using their bills as forcing mechanisms to bring tech companies to the table. And what about the newspaper lobbyists? As I told folks in the capitol, the old newspapers no longer set the public agenda. Hell, the once-mightly L.A. Times has a digital market penetration under five percent in L.A. County. Media News Group’s and Gannett’s papers are so thin you could shave with them. They don’t matter anymore. Politicians no longer need fear those who buy ink by the barrel as they now buy it by the pint. In fact, if you really want to tax the people who have ruined newspapers in the state, tax the hedge funds. 

    New York’s retrograde law

    Meanwhile in New York, the legislature at the last minute passed a bill to provide tax money for job credits for journalists in the state. It is a disaster. The law specifies paying only print — yes print — newspapers and some broadcasters. Welcome to 1986. The legislation thus explicitly excludes digital outlets and not-for-profits. According to one account, it was the governor’s office that dictated this exclusion in the last-minute rush to get the bill passed without public comment.

    The bill did, to its credit, specifically exclude publicly traded companies from receiving money — which should have left out the hedge funds operating in the state. But then it drilled a loophole by granting an exception to companies that have lost a quarter of circulation or workforce in the last five years, which likely lets the hedge funds back in. For Gannett or Media News Group to get money out of this but not TheCity is shameful. 

    Digital outlets raised alarms but it was too late; the bill had already been rushed through the legislature and signed into law. Though there is a frantic effort to find loopholes to the loopholes, it is simply true that the law is designed to support only legacy news. It is bad law. I am told by the proprietor of one local and digital site that newspaper publishers in the state’s trade association — which still does not allow dues-paying digital members to even vote — told online folks that they should keep quiet and not rock the boat. I am disturbed to see legacy newspaper publishers holding an event at my former school promoting what they call the “NY Local Journalism Sustainability Act.” They’re trying to rename the law after its birth. The bill was named the NY Newspapers and Broadcast Media Act. The name says it all. 

    This is what happens when politicians fear publishers and when publishers engage in conflict of interest by seeking favors from those we cover — and when they both shut down comment from the people who are doing the real work of rebuilding local journalism, and from the communities they serve. There is just no excuse for implementing something so shortsighted and retrograde — and in the media capital of the world, of all places. 

    Canada’s aftermath

    Legislative aides in Sacramento told me that newspaper lobbyists and publishers have tried to convince them that Canada was a win for news. That’s simply wrong. As I report in my paper (which, by the way, also has a lot of fun history about copyright, media consolidation, and anticompetitive behavior past), news sites in Canada believe they are worse off, losing Meta’s traffic and the opportunity to find new audience, losing Meta’s financial support for journalism, losing Google’s voluntary grants for journalism, and gaining a bit of Google cash. As Jeff Elgie, head of the very successful local news enterprise Village Media told me: “We will probably get a bit more money than we did before with Facebook and Google combined, but we lost the Facebook traffic. So if you ask me, any day I would say, keep your damn money and give us the Facebook traffic back.”

    The deal in Canada called or Google to choose an independent body to decide how to divvy up the money it is now forced to grant. Google just announced the organization that will decide among the roughly 1,400 news outlets that have applied for their silver. Given the large number of recipients, the amount any one outlet will receive is unlikely to be life-changing. I note among applicants a fashion magazine, a B-to-B site, many radio stations (I doubt all of them are cornerstones of journalism), and many, many outlets from one company declared bankrupt by the investors that own the Toronto Star and from the hedge fund that controls the largest chain in the nation, Post Media. 

    What now?

    As I sat down with a policy aide in Sacramento —yes, in the lobby — I said, “I’m a Biden Democrat, but for the next 30 seconds I will sound like a libertarian. I am troubled by any government intervention in speech and especially journalism. But since the discussion has already gone over that wall to subsidize news, I just want to consider how to do it well.” 

    Supporting news should mean not supporting the hedge funds that are killing newspapers and news. It should mean making judgments about quality, equity, serving underserved communities, and accountability to communities. It should support diversity, innovation, new business models, better listening, and independence. It should support collaboration over retribution against technology companies that did not ruin news — and in any fair exchange, recognize the value of platforms’ links to publishers. If you’re going to pass laws to support journalism, then don’t support news as it was, support news as it could be. 

  • 9/11-19

    I didn’t realize how affected I have been by the trauma of COVID-19 until today, when the death toll in America passed that of 9/11, when the cumulative stress of seeing medical workers suffer and scientists wonder and politicians bungle piled too high, when I found myself snapping for no good reason, when the pain of uncertainty returned.

    On 9/11, I was at the World Trade Center, feeling the heat of the jets’ impact, seeing lives lost, overcome by the debris of the towers’ fall, barely surviving — because I didn’t step two feet this way or that — and witnessing my mortality in the moment, the result of my bad decision to stay and report … for what? for a story.

    Now that moment of mortality is every day, fearing the wrong moment in a grocery story or touching a surface or rubbing a nose will do any of us in, jeopardizing ourselves, our families, our communities. It is 9/11 in slow-motion, repeated every day for everyone: a morning that will last a year or two; evil groundhog day.

    One of my last trips into Manhattan before the shutdown was to Bellevue Hospital, to the World Trade Center Health Program, where I finally went after many years of denial to have them prod my body and memory. I thought it would be therapeutic. It was more bureaucratic, to certify me for treatment that doesn’t really exist for my two cancers (both lite: prostate and thyroid, each on the List), for my heart condition (atrial fibrillation, not on the List), for respiratory issues (sleep apnea; I’ll get a machine), and — here was my surprise — for a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress syndrome.

    Me? I’m fine. Just fine. I have been for 19 years, not just coping but always cognizant of my privilege, having survived the day and prospered since, lucky to have my family and home and work.

    And then, 19 years later, comes COVID-19 (as if numbers were self-aware of their irony) to remind me again of my fragility, my mortality.

    I am still fortunate and know that well. I live out in the country with much social distance around me. I have a wonderful family and thanks to my wife am safe at home. I have a rewarding job working with dedicated deans and teachers who want nothing more than to help our students not just weather this crisis but learn from it and become wiser and more resilient for it. Thanks to the internet, I can keep my job and income and my connection with the world. I am privileged still.

    I look at the numbers on charts, deaths and death rates daily, and think we are not doing a good job of seeing the humanity in them. The so-called president acts as if losing 100,000 or 200,000 people is a job well-done and deserving of credit. His flags are not at half-staff; never. The news is just beginning to fill with the names of the lost, the stories of their lives buried under slopes on charts. So many of the first we lose are selfless medical workers, gone for no reason, gone because of our feckless government’s denials. God knows how the doctors and nurses do this, facing the mortality of so many, including themselves, every moment. God bless them.

    I am not them. We do not have to be among them. We do not have to be if we pay attention and stay inside and don’t breathe the wrong air and touch the wrong thing and scratch our eyes at the wrong moment and hang on until science — blessed science — gives us a vaccine. I bury myself in science. That is where I find hope.

    But we are vulnerable. We always are, always have been, always will be. It’s just that most of the time, we manage to ignore that fact.

    Especially us New Yorkers. Our city is so strong: The center of the fucking universe, as I delight in telling students and visitors, a fortress of spirit and will, intelligence and effort. But here it is again, under attack, brought down and brought silent this time by a mere virus for which we — the nation — were criminally unprepared.

    And so my anger does me in. I cannot bear watching him on television every fucking night, that tower of ego and unself-aware fragility exploiting the vulnerability and suffering and his citizens and spewing falsity and hate and ignorance to his cult. That is too much to bear. I am ashamed of my own life’s field, media, for giving him this platform, for not calling his lies until they are spread like a virus across the land, for failing to diagnose the disease that he is. This depresses me.

    But writing this is its own form of self-indulgence, I must confess. I haven’t shared emotions like this since some long-gone anniversary of 9/11. For I was healing or healed, I thought. But now I see my weakness again. The emotions are bare.

    I told the psychiatrist at Bellevue (a phrase I use with no irony) that I saw few lasting effects of 9/11 on my psyche. I became phobic about bridges and there are many I will not cross. I find my emotions can well up at the most idiotic moments, when a manipulative twist in a TV show or even a goddamned commercial can peel me back and reveal my gooey center. But all that’s not so hard to control. I just find the nearest tunnel or a shorter bridge and shake my head to wave off the storytellers’ manipulation of my heart.

    Yet today that is harder. The emotions are rising again. I wouldn’t name them fear. I’d name them apprehension and worry and anger and stress and empathy for the numberless and nameless who go before us, too soon.

    So there. Nineteen years ago, when I started blogging after that day, I found it helpful to share so I could connect with others and learn I was far from alone. That act itself — linking with people here, online — changed my perspective of my career, of journalism, of media, of society. It taught me that properly considered my life and profession should not have been about writing stories but about listening and conversing; that is what I believe now. That gave me a new career as a teacher.

    Now I don’t tell my story so much as I confess my weakness in case someone reading this feels the same: vulnerable but fortunate, worried but wishing, just uncertain yet not alone.

    This post has been translated into Spanish here and Italian here.