Media mass production
What stood out: A brilliant layout, but lackluster content. The newspaper industry suffers far more from its lack of passion than from the state of the economy.
Column Brilliant layout, but anemic content: the newspaper industry suffers far more from its lack of passion than from the economic situation.Are our newspapers so bad because we train journalists too well? Nonsense, a typical morning thought. You shouldn't trust what comes to you between a second mocha, a horse bet and your favorite paper, when the day is freshly washed and your desire is even stronger than your order.that morning, a conference on "quality journalism" was scheduled. Such events follow one another. The industry is nervous. No wonder: readers have to be coerced into buying. Which feeds the suspicion that the print crisis is one of content. In an attempt to keep readers interested with ever louder marketing tricks, we are maltreating the journalistic essence. And we wonder about the zapping behavior that we are training our audience to adopt.
On the train, I read the manuscript of a colleague who trained in Hamburg and has a clear picture of his career: after 18 months, Kisch Prize, in three years head of department, then - quickly, quickly - editor-in-chief. It is a diploma thesis: "War journalism; new dangers, new job description". With a request for feedback. The piece looks good. Chic stapled 68 pages. Color infographics. Perfect layout. Also available as a PDF file on his homepage. The work looks very finished. You don't really want to scribble in any corrections. Nor is it necessary. Neat language, nicely turned, flawless. Except for one detail: this text is completely
free of thought. Odorless, bodiless, not fueled by any tension or conflict. An intelligence-free zone. The man is sure to get a good grade. I write him a few non-committal words. Our criminal organization is playing at a low level to protect each other.
The honest information was omitted ("Sorry, we don't do the same job") because the man from Hamburg is so well suited to his time. Our papers have the same shape as his thesis: over-edited, layouted, content-free. That's what you learn, even at
renowned journalism schools. It's impressive how stylistically confident their graduates are. And frightening how infinitely boring their articles are.
Journalists have long struggled to find good training centers. After all, anyone who writes knows that if the form is blocked because the craft is weak, the content falls by the wayside. It's bizarre how these schools are now producing well-trained text administrators who eradicate all substance and surprise from the papers. Clever self-promoters who take an opinion for a thought. Commercial soul-massagers who confuse excitement journalism with relevance and sensuality.
The very idea of exposing herself to the material, of letting reality work on her as she writes, drives her to the brink of a nervous crisis. Allowing complexity and making it readable is too much for them. For them, the powerful things that are breaking out in society are only the cause, no longer the reason for writing - they use the surface of reality to simulate journalism.
But can journalists of the new kind really be blamed for this? After all, society as a whole is becoming increasingly virtual. Seen in this light, they have the right professional profile for the media that publishers and editors-in-chief produce today. The schools give them what they need to do their job.
But soon this will probably no longer be enough. Imagine a journalism training program that teaches sociology instead of media sociology or political science instead of media law. One that requires three years abroad and internships in such foreign climes as China or Thurgau. Which produces intellectuals instead of zeitgeist salesmen. But evening thoughts, when the day has shaken, emptied and groaned you, should not be trusted ...
> Oliver Fahrni is a freelance journalist. Until 2001 he was deputy editor-in-chief of Weltwoche and most recently foreign editor of Hamburger Woche.
On the train, I read the manuscript of a colleague who trained in Hamburg and has a clear picture of his career: after 18 months, Kisch Prize, in three years head of department, then - quickly, quickly - editor-in-chief. It is a diploma thesis: "War journalism; new dangers, new job description". With a request for feedback. The piece looks good. Chic stapled 68 pages. Color infographics. Perfect layout. Also available as a PDF file on his homepage. The work looks very finished. You don't really want to scribble in any corrections. Nor is it necessary. Neat language, nicely turned, flawless. Except for one detail: this text is completely
free of thought. Odorless, bodiless, not fueled by any tension or conflict. An intelligence-free zone. The man is sure to get a good grade. I write him a few non-committal words. Our criminal organization is playing at a low level to protect each other.
The honest information was omitted ("Sorry, we don't do the same job") because the man from Hamburg is so well suited to his time. Our papers have the same shape as his thesis: over-edited, layouted, content-free. That's what you learn, even at
renowned journalism schools. It's impressive how stylistically confident their graduates are. And frightening how infinitely boring their articles are.
Journalists have long struggled to find good training centers. After all, anyone who writes knows that if the form is blocked because the craft is weak, the content falls by the wayside. It's bizarre how these schools are now producing well-trained text administrators who eradicate all substance and surprise from the papers. Clever self-promoters who take an opinion for a thought. Commercial soul-massagers who confuse excitement journalism with relevance and sensuality.
The very idea of exposing herself to the material, of letting reality work on her as she writes, drives her to the brink of a nervous crisis. Allowing complexity and making it readable is too much for them. For them, the powerful things that are breaking out in society are only the cause, no longer the reason for writing - they use the surface of reality to simulate journalism.
But can journalists of the new kind really be blamed for this? After all, society as a whole is becoming increasingly virtual. Seen in this light, they have the right professional profile for the media that publishers and editors-in-chief produce today. The schools give them what they need to do their job.
But soon this will probably no longer be enough. Imagine a journalism training program that teaches sociology instead of media sociology or political science instead of media law. One that requires three years abroad and internships in such foreign climes as China or Thurgau. Which produces intellectuals instead of zeitgeist salesmen. But evening thoughts, when the day has shaken, emptied and groaned you, should not be trusted ...
> Oliver Fahrni is a freelance journalist. Until 2001 he was deputy editor-in-chief of Weltwoche and most recently foreign editor of Hamburger Woche.
