As we mourn the passing this week of Molly Ivins, let us consider a young woman starting out today with the talent and promise that Molly showed when she began her career. In this time of media consolidation, what opportunities are open to her as she offers employers in the local media her keen insights and colorful observations?
Having built a reputation at her college newspaper as a witty writer with a discerning eye, Calliope starts her job search at her hometown newspaper. Though her hometown is a city of 300,000, there is only one daily newspaper these days. The Press Journal is now part of a corporation that owns dozens of such papers across the country, along with a range of other media outlets and assorted businesses.
After a series of dead-end phone calls and unanswered emails, Calliope finally reaches an editor at the Press Journal who is willing to meet with her. As she follows Mr. Davis from the elevator to his office, Calliope is struck by the number of empty desks and asks him where everyone is. He shrugs, and mentions something about restructuring, then leads Calliope to his office. After complimenting her on the writing samples she had emailed, the editor asks her to clarify what kind of position she is seeking. Calliope explains that she aspires to be a columnist, but would be happy to cover local government to break into the business.
The editor curtly replies that they do not have much need for either. With the exception of a couple of long-time local columnists, their columns all come from syndication. It also turns out that several local reporters were recently let go in the restructuring. The editor notes that they were fine writers, and hastily adds that he did not have much of a choice. The decision came from corporate. If she is interested in copy editing, however, then he might be able to find something for her. Dejected, Calliope politely declines, thanks him for his time, and leaves.
Calliope's subsequent stops are no more promising. Her mother encourages her to call a friend who works at the local TV station. She had, her mother reminded her, excelled at a couple broadcast journalism courses. Skeptical about applying her skills on television, Calliope nonetheless makes the call. Her mother's friend, Kelly, who spends much of her time reporting from the fronts of courthouses and the scenes of local fires and accidents, wishes she could help, but feels lucky to have a job at all. The station has been devoting more and more local airtime to entertainment news. Pre-packaged features from the network have replaced several local staffers. And it does not take a meeting or even a phone call for Calliope to learn the state of local radio in her hometown. Aside from the public radio station, which appeared to be struggling, local content is practically non-existent.
An op-ed column by Eric Klinenberg in the Seattle Times entitled, "Local media content shouldn't be a luxury," reveals much of what we lose when media consolidation replaces local voices with homogenized content. As a society, we put a price on many things, but we cannot put a price on the opportunity to read the next Molly Ivins. While Klinenberg focuses on media, this dangerous trend does not end there. Without effective action by progressives, unique voices will go silent and much of what we value about local communities will be lost.
In his column, Klinenberg describes what he has found in the last five years as he has traveled the nation, studying the effects of media consolidation on local voices. As a professor of sociology, Klinenberg has focused on the effects of the Telecommunications Act of 1996, which, by loosening the limits that had previously governed media ownership, enabled a handful of major corporations to purchase or displace smaller media outlets.
While Klinenberg notes that both Republicans and Democrats supported the Telecommunications Act of 1996, it is worth noting that right-wing think tanks were influential in promoting that legislation. A 1999 column by the late Molly Ivins herself found that conservative organizations, including Citizens for a Sound Economy, helped to repay the generosity of their corporate donors by supporting regulations favorable to the telecommunications industry.
The effects of media consolidation that Klinenberg found include:
- Reliance on pre-packaged "promotional video news releases from businesses and government agencies" and repetition of locally produced stories to fill airtime on local television stations;
- Scarce political news on local television, "even during highly contested elections";
- Replacement of many local radio hosts and reporters after media conglomerates purchased independent stations and converted their programming using voice-tracking systems that simulate live human announcers;
- Loss of radio programs that fostered local talent;
- Sharp cuts in news coverage and editorial staffs, "substituting wire-service copy and syndicated columns for original reporting," as national chains acquired local papers and competition dwindled;
- "[F]ewer checks on powerful institutions and individuals, and countless untold stories about news we need to know."
From these diverse effects, we can see that consolidation of the media is also a strategic initiative for the right-wing. It is not only about increasing corporate profits by removing regulations. Media consolidation also marginalizes or silences local voices. Had she been hired, perhaps someday Calliope would have rallied resistance to the privatization of her city's water system or focused attention on inequality in public education. For a society to thrive, it requires a diversity of real human voices, not more promotional video news releases, simulated announcers, and uniform content.
As Klinenberg notes, bloggers and others creating their own content on the web (and elsewhere) are a source of hope, but it remains a great challenge to replace the loss of local voices that is evident in radio, television, and newspapers. Threats to net neutrality and the freedom of bloggers also should not be discounted.
Perhaps the Calliope of the story above would become a blogger, writing on Daily Kos or elsewhere, after long days working at an entry-level corporate position, far from her passions, where her talents and voice must remain well-hidden. As long as she keeps her online identity secret from her employer, which would no doubt object to the trenchant political commentary on her blog, she might even develop a bit of a following. But is that the most we can expect for a latter-day Molly Ivins, born four decades too late?
As we take up the challenge of protecting local voices in media, we should think of Molly and what we have lost. We should also recognize other threats to the institutions that define our local communities. When chains replace local bookstores and coffeehouses, where will we discover and nurture the authors and musicians of the next generation? Consider the big-box stores that displace family businesses, the corporate builders that turn farming communities into models of suburban uniformity. When we acquiesce in discarding regulations that have served to limit the power and scope of corporations, what are we left with? Can it still be called "home"? Is there room for the next Molly Ivins there?
Written by Evan Frisch, an employee of the Rockridge Institute, who blogs as evan_at_rockridge at the Rockridge Nation blog, where this is cross-posted.