SamPratt.com

Suspicious Package

Someone left this mysterious, puffy, lemon-sized object (some form of plant matter) at a Hudson polling place during today’s primary. (Call in the bomb squad, or garnish a salad with it?) Who can identify it?

Tu(n)esday: Sam Cooke

Meadow, Catskills, 1943

In Richmondville, to be exact, a Kodachrome by John Collier; via the “always interesting” Shorpy.

Quotable Churchill

Politics is almost as exciting as war, and quite as dangerous. In war you can only be killed once, but in politics many times.

— Attributed to Winston Churchill

Edible or deadly?

With the non-stop rain, mushrooms are popping up all over the yard. But are they edible, or poisonous? Need to take a mushroom course.

Missing Ink: Part III

How our docile local press
undermines democracy

by Sam Pratt

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The following article appears in the current issue of Our Town: The Columbia County Quarterly, and will appear here in four installments over the next two weeks. Links to the previous two installments: Part I | Part II

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“We Jewed them down.”

At a public meeting on February 15, 2011, Taghkanic Assessor Art Griffith uttered these words in response to questions about a contract with an outside firm.

Griffith shrugged off criticism of his anti-Semitic slur. He refused to apologize, calling it “a common phrase used all the time.” Its currency may depend on one’s social circle, but the incident prompted angry letters to the editor, articles in the New York Daily News and the Albany Times-Union, blog posts, discussions on WAMC, and a stiff letter of condemnation from the Anti-Defamation League of New York.

But nothing appeared in print locally for twelve days, even though the remark had caused an immediate uproar in the presence of reporters from two local newspapers.

The Columbia Paper finally broke the story on February 27.

Their article was prompted by community e-mail discussions, as witnesses questioned why nothing about the slur had appeared in a previous issue.

Now realizing his paper had a big story on its hands, editor Parry Teasdale wrote an editorial rebuking Griffith, as much for his unapologetic attitude, as for his choice of words. The Register-Star waited still longer, until March 8, to report what its own reporter had witnessed firsthand, three weeks earlier.

The incident reveals a lot about the importance, as well as the failings of local media: its value in spreading the news, and its readiness to soft pedal the news when those in positions of power screw up.

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“Chamber of Commerce Journalism” is a term often used to describe much of what appears in print. The Texas Monthly defined it benignly as “covering events and announcements intended to boost civic pride.” It typically implies a Panglossian tendency to make things sound better than they really are, exacerbated by a willingness to avert the eyes when something uncomfortable occurs.

Such boosterism inspires a barely-hidden distaste for independent voices who question the status quo. A textbook example of that dynamic—sympathy for those in power, disdain for those who challenge it—was illustrated by the Times-Union’s early coverage of the controversy over St. Lawrence Cement’s proposal to build a massive, coal-burning plant in Columbia County.

In 2001, the T-U declined to cover a major breaking development in that six-year battle: the decision by the doctors of Columbia Memorial Hospital to oppose the project. Bucking overly-cautious administrators, CMH’s medical staff conducted an independent analysis, concluding that the proposed plant would increase asthma in children, heart attacks in the elderly, and cancer in all residents.

That blow to St. Lawrence Cement became a turning point in the battle. But it was not deemed newsworthy by the editors of the region’s largest and most influential paper—at the time a regular beneficiary of SLC ads. So what was newsworthy? Soon afterwards, the Albany paper ran a feature on the office décor of SLC Vice-President Dennis Skidmore, including sentimental descriptions of cement industry memorabilia on Skidmore’s wall, and portraits of his kids on his desk. Subtext: We won’t let readers know about a credible, independent health study by caretakers in the community, whose research contradicts a big advertiser’s claims. But we will go out of our way to humanize a corporate executive who’s behind those claims. Two years later, after opponents kept up their drumbeat of well-researched concerns, the T-U came around—publishing a comprehensive special report on the project, largely unfavorable to SLC.

Such misjudgments are driven by a baseline assumption that news from a government or business source is presumptively true until proven otherwise. Area papers are filled with barely-altered press releases from “legit” sources. The burden lies with others, not the press, to prove them wrong. Those who dare try are viewed with suspicion by the media. Entrenched interests trump the credibility of private citizens, activists, or advocacy organizations.

Even progressive voices in the media tend to write off anyone on the outside looking in. At a meeting of journalists on radio station WGXC, in August 2009, the Columbia Paper’s Teasdale—considered more enlightened than most area editors—unabashedly characterized citizens who speak up at local meetings as people “no one will listen to at home.” This dismissive attitude is dismayingly common among media mavens, who spend their days in front of computers. But people who attempt to participate in community affairs tend to be better informed, less compromised, and have better social skills than the officials and reporters in the room. (One recalls, for example, former Independent reporter Chris Simonds berating Hudson resident Allon Schoener, as he attempted to speak at a 1999 public hearing at the St. Charles Hotel.) Many local towns are fortunate to have at least one citizen who attends meetings far more regularly than the press, types up reports far more detailed than anything in print, and circulates the news widely via e-mail or the Web.

In August 2006, on a local e-mail listserv, I noted an article about a proposed Claverack housing development, by Kate Mostaccio in the Register. The article seemed to me highly slanted in favor of the developer, and against the citizens who voiced concerns. The first paragraphs lovingly detailed the developer’s claims. Finally getting around to the public’s point of view in paragraph 14, Mostaccio acknowledged that most were against the proposal, but called them the “vocal opposition”— then immediately returned to chronicling the developer’s smooth assurances.

I wrote to Mostaccio, noting that the press often uses labels to belittle citizens who speak out. Words like “vocal” and “strident” are typically used to imply that citizen concern is somehow irrational.

Reporters now use them routinely when there is public comment, no matter what the actual tenor of the remarks. This is just one small aspect of the persistent and sometimes unconscious bias against citizens who try to influence local government. Officials and developers are afforded neutral coverage and most of the space. Citizen com- ments are summarized, rather than conveyed in depth, or relegated to ‘below the fold’ or after the jump to a new page. (The lower down a quotation appears, the fewer people see it.) Mostaccio refused to accept the criticism until I submitted our exchange to prominent media critic and NYU professor Todd Gitlin, author of The Whole World is Watching, a trenchant memoir of Students for a Democratic Society in the 1960s. The book chronicles SDS’s fight against the routine sliming by the media of students organizing for peace and justice.

“There’s no question, ‘vocal’ modifying ‘opponents’ is at best redundant. Are there quiet opponents?” asked Gitlin. “Vocal would most likely be interpreted as a mark of Cain, equivalent to ‘strident,’ ‘irrational,’ ‘unruly,’ etc.” Mostaccio finally conceded the point, but the Register hasn’t changed its ways.

While presuming to render judgment of others, members of the media are themselves notoriously thin-skinned. Quick to anger when challenged, they’re not above taking revenge for criticism, by minimizing their critics’ point of view—or erasing it entirely. Even as they bat away criticisms as spurious, members of the established press are equally quick to pat themselves on the back for their professed objectivity.

A self-serving media defense, heard at times from the Times-Union’s Rex Smith on WAMC’s Media Project: If both sides are unhappy about our coverage, we must be doing something right. (Note: In the survey cited above, WAMC was rated by far the most popular and credible news source in this region.) This pat excuse neatly deflects criticism, releasing the press from any obligation to search their souls or notebooks for where they might have gone astray. They might consider another possibility: Both sides are unhappy because we got both sides of the story wrong.

 

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Next Up: In the conclusion of this series, Part IV of Missing Ink looks at the future of local media, in particular in relation to the rise of blogs and social media.

 

Missing Ink: Part II

How our docile local press
undermines democracy

by Sam Pratt

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The following article appears in the current issue of Our Town: The Columbia County Quarterly, and will appear here in four installments over the next two weeks. Link to the first installment: Part I

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Congress shall make no law… abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press. 

That ringing endorsement of the key role of the media is, of course, contained in our Constitution’s First Amendment. The Bill of Rights does not hedge, limit, or in any way qualify this freedom. Its clear language has caused judges of widely divergent ideologies to protect freedom of the press like few other American rights.

Thomas Jefferson wrote that “Our liberty depends on the freedom of the press, and that cannot be limited without being lost.” The press, the third US President noted elsewhere, is “the first shut up by those who fear the investigation of their actions.” And yet too frequently, a defining characteristic of local media is its reflexive deference to—and dependence upon—the political and economic powers that be. Such deference is paired with thinly-disguised hostility to anyone who tries to hold such interests accountable.

A survey of 420 residents, conducted back in 2009, revealed profound public dissatisfaction with the area press. 54% rated the overall performance of local and regional media poor or very poor. Only 16% believed they deserved a passing grade.

Publication	Terrible/Poor	Average	Good/Excellent
Daily Mail	62%	31%	7%
Register-Star	56%	33%	12%
Independent*	24%	46%	30%
Times-Union	12%	44%	39%
Chronogram	10%	31%	59%
Metroland	8%	40%	52%

* Now defunct; its former editor founded The Columbia Paper

This lack of local press credibility is reflected in answers to another survey question: “At election time, how important are the candidate endorsements of area publications to you in deciding which local and county-wide candidates to vote for?” Only 27% said their local papers’ political assessments were important or extremely important.

Readers understand that the failings of the press are related to the industry’s cost-cutting measures. Publishers strip reporting staffs down to the bone, eking out just enough pages of news to justify each issue’s advertisements. “The biggest single problem with the local media is their unwillingness to allocate reporters to cover town governments,” wrote one respondent. “Given the sheer number of towns here, an informed populace is impossible without increased coverage.” Similarly, a resident of New Lebanon (population: 2,368) lamented: “We desperately need news and information about our town. No paper covers us.”

The Independent’s out-of-state owners pinched pennies so tightly that they required writers to prove they’d used both sides of every sheet in their spiral notebooks (about $1.50 each) before requisitioning a new one. Soon enough, the parent went belly up, taking the Indy and several other papers down with it. This bottom-line McPaper mentality means that only a tiny fraction of the meetings of each of the County’s 22 municipalities gets covered. The Board of Supervisors likewise gets many free passes, meeting below the radar of the press, and therefore the public.

Again and again, survey respondents called for more ultra-local coverage, especially investigative work to expose local corruption and other official wrongdoing. “Columbia County is bursting with political favoritism—in job appointments, the awarding of contracts, and unfair bidding procedures,” wrote one commentator. “The press for the most part refuses to check any of this out.”

Another wrote: “I’ve no need for more superficial coverage. But investigative reporting isn't cheap, and that may make it impossible in this area.”

Hudson resident Peter Meyer, offering the rare perspective of a national magazine writer who also serves on a local school board, recently observed:

Governance around here goes something like this, I’m in charge; shut up. The job description doesn’t include public inclusion or outreach. Governance is just an extension of politics, where you beat your opponents up as best you can, to get what you can. To consider the best thing for the community is not part of the lexicon. You do right by your friends and relatives, until you get knocked out of the box by someone else, who is then expected to do right by his friends and relatives. Equity, fairness, justice, and excellence are not part of the bargain. It’s the same whether you’re making decisions about entryway parks or property assessments. Without real coverage by local media, which rarely shows up, much less explains what’s going on, it’s even easier for this form of governance to perpetuate itself.”

The simultaneous lack and poor quality of coverage is a frequent complaint, one which recalls the old Woody Allen joke about the food in a Catskills resort: “It stinks—and the portions are so small.” One survey respondent moaned that “Columbia County is a no-man’s land; the regional news practically ignores us.” Another speculated that “perhaps we are victims of our placement among the lower Hudson Valley, Albany and the Berkshires.... Since local media coverage is deplorable, we need more Web sites dedicated to hyperlocal news and events.” A third extended this critique to broadcast media: “There’s a near-total lack of television coverage of Columbia, Greene, Dutchess and Ulster. We’re too far north for NYC stations, and apparently too far south for Albany. This vast area could really use a local cable news channel.” (One was tried in Germantown. It didn’t catch on.

Much of the blame for the failings of local media can be laid at the doors of management, rather than their employees. Cub reporters get thrown into the arena with local lions without training, at pay grades hovering around minimum wage. For example, in 2002 the St. Lawrence Cement controversy was entering its fourth year, and was already the subject of several miles of newspaper copy. The editor of one newly-minted reporter ordered up yet another interview questioning the opposition’s stance. The hapless writer closed our lengthy conversation by asking: “I’m sorry… Who are you again?” (At least he asked.) One can’t expect new beat reporters to know every minor personality right off the bat, even in a small community. But one can expect editors to provide them with enough clips and context to do their jobs properly.

There’s a flip side to that lack of experience and training: an excess of familiarity. The normal challenges of getting the news right are compounded by the dynamics of small communities, where many people know each other by sight, and reporters may bump into the same people they just (mis)quoted in the morning paper at the coffee station in the local deli. Depending on the personalities involved, this can result in treating subjects with kid gloves, or in overheated ego clashes. In a big city newsroom, a reporter may go a year without reporting on the same person twice, or seeing his subjects faceto- face; in a small town, those are daily occurrences.

Others cite polarized demographics as a root cause of local media woes. On the one hand, there are many longtime residents who still refer to “taking the evening paper,” decades after the advent of morning delivery. On the other are so-called “newcomers” (which could mean transplants who’ve been here for thirty years), eager to get to know their adopted community.

As one respondent observed: “Our press has been at a crossroads for a few years, trying to cater to a dwindling population of older, conservative residents, often antagonizing more liberal ‘newcomers’. The groups clash, their news interests clash, and their political preferences clash. I don’t know what the answer is, but small-town papers can’t survive forever by delivering an aging news style to an aging population.”

Or can they? Perversely, shoddy or inflammatory reporting may actually pay off. Frustration over factual errors, wrongheaded editorials, and biased reporting has a way of boosting newsstand sales. Reader outrage creates buzz: You won’t believe what they wrote in the paper! While panning area papers, nearly two out of three survey respondents reported that they’d bothered to write at least one letter-to-theeditor at some point. Almost all did so to object to a mistake, omission, or bias. At least they cared enough to write.

In 1991, media critics Daniel Riffe and Don Sneed took note of that odd dynamic: “Public support for a newspaper…may center on its entertainment value, the controversy or public discussion it foments, the extremism of the views contained within its columns…” After several drinks at a Hudson bar, one young local reporter unabashedly admitted to “stirring the pot” from time to time, just to build buzz.

Circulation of local and regional dailies is way down from a generation ago. Some years ago, over lunch at the diner, former Register editor Bill Wyman recalled that in the 1980s, circulation peaked at over 15,000. The paper’s reach back then was long enough to publish a separate Dutchess County edition. When the Johnson family of Watertown, New York, acquired it in 1997, The Register still had 10,000 daily readers.

More recent numbers indicate a print circulation between 5,000 and 6,000 per day, in a County of some 65,000 residents. Those figures include giveaways to institutions like local schools—freebies which prop up circulation claims to advertisers. Much of that readership is centered around the Hudson-Greenport-Claverack area, with sparse penetration into homes in towns outside the 12534 zip code. For example, a 2005 Knight-Ridder report showed the Register only reaching 9.5% of households in Craryville, 10.9% in Elizaville, and 11.5% in Ancram. Meanwhile, statistics available for the Register’s Web site indicate a healthy amount of Internet readership—though the fine print reveals that 2% of visitors account for a whopping 38% of their page views .

At best, perhaps 1 in 3 households in the County see either the Register-Star or the Columbia Paper on any regular basis, either in print or online. Still, local officials follow the local press as if it had been brought down from the Catskills by Rip Van Winkle himself— even though many voters only read the sports, obituaries, and funnies, if they subscribe, or buy the papers, at all. (Tellingly, the most discussed section of both papers is the letters-to-theeditor page.)

Small-town papers rely heavily on revenues from mandated public notices, published by towns as classifieds. In each municipality, print outlets compete to become the Paper of Record. This discourages crossing public officials who might move their business to a competitor. In March, as the State was considering legislation to lift requirements that public notices appear in print, in favor of online notice, the Register-Star high-mindedly editorialized against the idea.

“Our readers and the people they elect to office must be made to understand the importance of newspaper legal notices.” Without acknowledging their own economic interest, the paper touted the news value of such notices in these choice words: “Gleams of gold can be spotted in legals.” Gold, indeed.

No wonder that “we should buy the paper!” is such a frequent refrain. Yet serious inquiries about buying holdings from the Johnson family (owners of the Daily Mail, the Register-Star, the Chatham Courier, and at least 16 other publications in New York State) have been consistently rebuffed.

One potential buyer was given to understand that whether these papers turn only a puny profit or lose a little money, they are valuable to their owners as part of a media “empire.” If sold off individually, they’d command modest prices at best. But owning a chain of fifteen to twenty papers bestows statewide prestige and clout: In the Pataki years, the Johnson patriarch was appointed to a number of State and charitable boards.

If such a company ever decided to sell, a bigger chain would prefer to buy a large number of papers covering dozens of counties, rather than pick up a few scattered titles. Consolidation of the newspaper industry in recent decades, intended to achieve certain economies of scale, makes it even harder to slice individual properties off the media ham. Printing presses, paper purchasing, ad forces, and other operations have all been combined and downsized.

 

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Next Up: Part III of Missing Ink examines how our regional press “cover” for the gaffes of local politicians, and looks after the editorial interests of advertisers.