Having a big discussion lately about the future of journalism (you know: is there one?), and what we, as journalism educators, should do to ensure that some part of the New New Really New Journalism, includes some critical thnking, best practices, etc.
But, the problem isn't that the key elements (ethics, writing, thinking, etc.) have changed. They haven't. The prrblem is how the inforrmation (presented as knowledge) is communicated. We don't have that old sender - message- receiver rubric to fall back on (except if we want to be stubborn). We have, instead, something that really hasn't shaken out. Unless you are selling something, the future of the web is a very unpredictable thing. Sadly, in about a week, I will be telling very impressible students (the others just sleep) what the future of the web might be. Just educated guesses. I have, at least, the assurance that I'll probably be wrong, and this will not be a terrible thing. After all, Negroponte wasn't even in the same galaxy with his predications in 1996. And he's a genius.
So, I might posit the idea that the web will be largely A/V, with fewer and fewer words.
Maybe it will be sliced up into turf owned by various mega-mega-corporations.
Maybe it will be reinvented, cleaned up, run faster, and share data easily (Semantic).
Maybe it will be storing all data seemlessly and without ownership.
Maybe it will be regulated so forcefully as to render it useless as an information sharing tool.
Maybe all applications will migrate to the center, leaving the edges more akin to the "dumb monitors" of the 1970s anf 80s.
Maybe all of todays web will be built exclusively for hand-helds, with larger desktops simply going away.
Maybe those desktops will melt into the household/business landscape, becoming parts of the furniture/cabinets/devices we already use (toasters?).
Maybe all interaction with a computer will be verbal (as in Scotty talking to the computer in one of those Star Trek flicks).
And, maybe we will finally see the concepts of creativity and ownership as being less at odds and that the common good is at least as important as the individual's profit from the common good.
Then again, maybe not.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
10 reasons why we won't go back.
1. You spent our grandchildren's money like it was water.
2. You spilled our children's blood like it was water.
3. You gave our money to your friends and cohorts.
4. You lied to us.
5. You tried to cover yourr tracks by scaring us, stirring up social hatred, and changing the subject.
6. You tried to make some bizarre interpretation of Revealations come true.
7. You played the race card.
8. You played the "liberals are traitors" card.
9. You bullied.
10. You cheated.
2. You spilled our children's blood like it was water.
3. You gave our money to your friends and cohorts.
4. You lied to us.
5. You tried to cover yourr tracks by scaring us, stirring up social hatred, and changing the subject.
6. You tried to make some bizarre interpretation of Revealations come true.
7. You played the race card.
8. You played the "liberals are traitors" card.
9. You bullied.
10. You cheated.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Fear and Loathing in the bins
Okay, so newspapers will change. Maybe we'll figure out how to do what we talked about doing 20 years ago: craft in-home delivery without someone throwing a bundle containing the other 90% we don't want on our front lawn. Consumers have made it clear: we want what we want, when we want it and only what we want and not a bunch of other stuff we don't want. Get it? And if you persist in refusing to listen to us, we'll walk away and get what we want how we want it from someone else.
The sale of the Chi Trib has opened the conversation again. What will we do about our newspapers? We can start with accepting that what can be done will have to happen online. I know, I know. Some people like to read a paper that's on paper, like I do with coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. That's great. But there's just not enough of us and fewer every day. So, just accept that you and I are just as likely to be reading a newspaper in 10? 5? years as we are to ride a horse to work. Yes, some people do ride a horse to work. And therre a little cafes in Kansas that even provide a hitching post for their customers coming in by way of Trigger. But not enough do that to convince Mickie D to do that. Anywhere.
So we (99% without horses) will get our news from a site and read it on our hand-held whatever. The point is not the delivery form, but the content that matters. If all we are about is whether we are on paper or in bytes, we've missed the point. If it is relavant, well-written, concise, and readable, it will be read.
The sale of the Chi Trib has opened the conversation again. What will we do about our newspapers? We can start with accepting that what can be done will have to happen online. I know, I know. Some people like to read a paper that's on paper, like I do with coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other. That's great. But there's just not enough of us and fewer every day. So, just accept that you and I are just as likely to be reading a newspaper in 10? 5? years as we are to ride a horse to work. Yes, some people do ride a horse to work. And therre a little cafes in Kansas that even provide a hitching post for their customers coming in by way of Trigger. But not enough do that to convince Mickie D to do that. Anywhere.
So we (99% without horses) will get our news from a site and read it on our hand-held whatever. The point is not the delivery form, but the content that matters. If all we are about is whether we are on paper or in bytes, we've missed the point. If it is relavant, well-written, concise, and readable, it will be read.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Where to go now
Universities are experiencing a moderate dip in enrollment (which, understandably, causes great concern). The responses can vary, but often involve generating credit hours through the application and use of new media technology. And while Distance Education is a great way for students living in areas too far from universities to actually attend, it is not the last step we should take.
Part of the problem, at least in my small world of journalism, is that we have a lot of doom, without much light. Yes, newspaper subscriptions are down. Yes, readership is down. Yes, it looks bad for the long term. But only if we cling to the traditional method of delivery.
What I find must odd about the wrestling match over teaching new mass comm media is the reluctance to adopt among faculty (and, that's just here—it's everywhere). It's almost as if we were teaching how to run as linotype machine because, while they were obliterated by "cold type" 30, 35 years ago, we think this is still the best way to deliver the news. Well, newspapers back in the 1970s had no trouble at all with eliminating hot lead, and later, eliminating "cold type," replacing each new method with the latest and greatest technology.
In some cases, the technology pushed the limits, such as McClatchy's Raleigh News & Observer conversion to seamless reporter/editor/copyeditor/designer/film/plates operation in the 1990s. (By the way, McClatchy now refers to itself as an "Internet publisher". Interesting.
And, while newspapers, like the N&O have set up web sites, and slimmed down the newsroom operation (I was a weekend editor at the N&O for a year or so back in 1995 or 6, can't remember precisely), the actual way information is gathered and presented is pretty much the same. Report, write, edit, re-edit, print, deliver. All the while, the precious few readers really interested in the news are wandering off to other sources (mostly online). In some cases, the dedication to "online" is really just some poor guy walking through the newsroom at or near deadline asking what stories might be good for the site (as was done at the N&O).
It's not a habit learned out of blue sky. Placing the online behind the print is a learned behavior students at universities have drilled into them early on. For example, here at K-State, our student newspaper, the Collegian, receives the lion's share of the attention from the writers and editors, with posting to the web site an after-thought (though some minor effort is made to post web only stories). It's plain that a real focus on the online is just not there. Thousands of papers are printing. Tens of thousands of dollars poured into newsprint.
I appreciate the habit of people to read a newspaper, especially if it's free. But, if it's free, wouldn't make more sense to pour that hard-earned student government fiscal support into more news, more reporting, more video, more of what the students need? Like explaining how the university works (a mystery to most students ... and faculty)?
What if most of the money was put into the online Collegian? Readers would shift to the online (yes, most students have laptops), and, yes, the online version would actually have to be user friendly, instead of being a slow-loading database site it is now.
And, most importantly for our students, the skills of video, breaking news, constant updating, and a real 24/7 feel to the Collegian would take over. Evening reporting from Aggeville. Daily postings from Topeka. Video galore!
Well, yes, that would be something. It was force us to teach differently. Hmm. Now there's a thought for another day.
Part of the problem, at least in my small world of journalism, is that we have a lot of doom, without much light. Yes, newspaper subscriptions are down. Yes, readership is down. Yes, it looks bad for the long term. But only if we cling to the traditional method of delivery.
What I find must odd about the wrestling match over teaching new mass comm media is the reluctance to adopt among faculty (and, that's just here—it's everywhere). It's almost as if we were teaching how to run as linotype machine because, while they were obliterated by "cold type" 30, 35 years ago, we think this is still the best way to deliver the news. Well, newspapers back in the 1970s had no trouble at all with eliminating hot lead, and later, eliminating "cold type," replacing each new method with the latest and greatest technology.
In some cases, the technology pushed the limits, such as McClatchy's Raleigh News & Observer conversion to seamless reporter/editor/copyeditor/designer/film/plates operation in the 1990s. (By the way, McClatchy now refers to itself as an "Internet publisher". Interesting.
And, while newspapers, like the N&O have set up web sites, and slimmed down the newsroom operation (I was a weekend editor at the N&O for a year or so back in 1995 or 6, can't remember precisely), the actual way information is gathered and presented is pretty much the same. Report, write, edit, re-edit, print, deliver. All the while, the precious few readers really interested in the news are wandering off to other sources (mostly online). In some cases, the dedication to "online" is really just some poor guy walking through the newsroom at or near deadline asking what stories might be good for the site (as was done at the N&O).
It's not a habit learned out of blue sky. Placing the online behind the print is a learned behavior students at universities have drilled into them early on. For example, here at K-State, our student newspaper, the Collegian, receives the lion's share of the attention from the writers and editors, with posting to the web site an after-thought (though some minor effort is made to post web only stories). It's plain that a real focus on the online is just not there. Thousands of papers are printing. Tens of thousands of dollars poured into newsprint.
I appreciate the habit of people to read a newspaper, especially if it's free. But, if it's free, wouldn't make more sense to pour that hard-earned student government fiscal support into more news, more reporting, more video, more of what the students need? Like explaining how the university works (a mystery to most students ... and faculty)?
What if most of the money was put into the online Collegian? Readers would shift to the online (yes, most students have laptops), and, yes, the online version would actually have to be user friendly, instead of being a slow-loading database site it is now.
And, most importantly for our students, the skills of video, breaking news, constant updating, and a real 24/7 feel to the Collegian would take over. Evening reporting from Aggeville. Daily postings from Topeka. Video galore!
Well, yes, that would be something. It was force us to teach differently. Hmm. Now there's a thought for another day.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Are Journalism Schools Revelant?
In the midst of a changing delivery system, it's easy to wonder: what are we teaching? Yesterday's tech skills (which, by the way, could be today's tomorrow)?
Some thoughts:
1. Journalism/Adv/PR have never been held in high esteem and rarely acted in such a way to deserve high esteem (eg: photo manipulation in the early 20th century -- and later).
2. Some profs have raised the excellent point of the errors of teaching technology rather than concepts. Well, rather than bucking the trend by bemoaning the irrelevancy of an expensive but useless "perfect radio lab", why not focus on the concepts and work within the "low-tech" of $200 digital cameras and phones? Why not just teach using the technology that seems relevant to the students as a way of getting them to the concepts. Hard to say we are talking relevant concepts if we are using irrelevant tools; but we don't need to worry about "perfect" tools if worrying about perfect makes us yesterdays news.
3. Why not actually change the curriculum? Like maybe
Advertising:
a. Survey course
b. Strategy: targeting the single consumer using new media tools like ____________ (now YouTube, next year?)
c. The X-Factor: concepting persuasiuve messages that attract pull, rather than rely on push.
d. Creative Concepts: Static/Video/Interactive imaging.
e. Online Media Planning: Tracking the users, creating immediate and rapid media placement response systems.
f. Interships
g. The Campaign System
I would think we could also offer these (other than the strategy and cmapiagn) in any particular order.
It seems at times that we are teaching silent film, really good silent film, and can't quite grasp why our students are really more interested in a low-grade "takie" over our real good silent. But whatever we do, we need to do it now.
Some thoughts:
1. Journalism/Adv/PR have never been held in high esteem and rarely acted in such a way to deserve high esteem (eg: photo manipulation in the early 20th century -- and later).
2. Some profs have raised the excellent point of the errors of teaching technology rather than concepts. Well, rather than bucking the trend by bemoaning the irrelevancy of an expensive but useless "perfect radio lab", why not focus on the concepts and work within the "low-tech" of $200 digital cameras and phones? Why not just teach using the technology that seems relevant to the students as a way of getting them to the concepts. Hard to say we are talking relevant concepts if we are using irrelevant tools; but we don't need to worry about "perfect" tools if worrying about perfect makes us yesterdays news.
3. Why not actually change the curriculum? Like maybe
Advertising:
a. Survey course
b. Strategy: targeting the single consumer using new media tools like ____________ (now YouTube, next year?)
c. The X-Factor: concepting persuasiuve messages that attract pull, rather than rely on push.
d. Creative Concepts: Static/Video/Interactive imaging.
e. Online Media Planning: Tracking the users, creating immediate and rapid media placement response systems.
f. Interships
g. The Campaign System
I would think we could also offer these (other than the strategy and cmapiagn) in any particular order.
It seems at times that we are teaching silent film, really good silent film, and can't quite grasp why our students are really more interested in a low-grade "takie" over our real good silent. But whatever we do, we need to do it now.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Paul Jones and Knowledge Creation
We (that is, academia) have a very certain idea that new things (such as The Internet) might best be handled at arms length. After all, these are passing fads. Message boards, MyFace, YouTube. We'll just wait till they blow over.
The trouble is that the very system that ensures us some sense of academic freedom, also makes us very much like concrete waiting to dry.
Then there are people like Paul Jones. For those of you who have yet to experience the "Paul Jones" effect, well, you're in for a treat. Here is a man with a degree in computer science who knew he wanted an academic life, a desire that then lead him to an MFA in poetry. Along the way he established the first SunSITE, and evolved that into ibilio.org, one of the more uniquely library-esque web sites.
With any luck, Paul will be visiting our humble abode next year to talk about the modern library and the post-modern idea of sharing and storing.
For you see, we have a very real issue.
What exactly do we do about all the past research we have accumulated? We are all very happy about new online journals (like ojrrp.org), but what about all the past information awaiting conversion into knowledge? Ah, there's the rub.
We have many. many ideas of how we might talk large publishing houses out of their stranglehold on this information, including (gasp!) appealing to Congress to "do something". But the bottom line is, no access = no knowledge creation = no progress. Imagine, dear researcher, being informed by your campus library that, despite incessant tuition increases and minimal support from your state government, we'll just have to live without access to ABI Inform (or whatever your favorite database might be). Imagine trying to recruit faculty to a university without such access.
We can talk all we wish about being a Top Ten This or a Top Ten That, but without access to the information accumulated by past researchers, exactly how are we to come up with the new ideas (A+B=C)?
Sigh.
The trouble is that the very system that ensures us some sense of academic freedom, also makes us very much like concrete waiting to dry.
Then there are people like Paul Jones. For those of you who have yet to experience the "Paul Jones" effect, well, you're in for a treat. Here is a man with a degree in computer science who knew he wanted an academic life, a desire that then lead him to an MFA in poetry. Along the way he established the first SunSITE, and evolved that into ibilio.org, one of the more uniquely library-esque web sites.
With any luck, Paul will be visiting our humble abode next year to talk about the modern library and the post-modern idea of sharing and storing.
For you see, we have a very real issue.
What exactly do we do about all the past research we have accumulated? We are all very happy about new online journals (like ojrrp.org), but what about all the past information awaiting conversion into knowledge? Ah, there's the rub.
We have many. many ideas of how we might talk large publishing houses out of their stranglehold on this information, including (gasp!) appealing to Congress to "do something". But the bottom line is, no access = no knowledge creation = no progress. Imagine, dear researcher, being informed by your campus library that, despite incessant tuition increases and minimal support from your state government, we'll just have to live without access to ABI Inform (or whatever your favorite database might be). Imagine trying to recruit faculty to a university without such access.
We can talk all we wish about being a Top Ten This or a Top Ten That, but without access to the information accumulated by past researchers, exactly how are we to come up with the new ideas (A+B=C)?
Sigh.
We (that is, academia) have a very certain idea that new things (such as The Internet) might best be handled at arms length. After all, these are passing fads. Message boards, MyFace, YouTube. We'll just wait till they blow over.
The trouble is that the very system that ensures us some sense of academic freedom, also makes us very much like concrete waiting to dry.
Then there are people like Paul Jones. For those of you who have yet to experience the "Paul Jones" effect, well, you're in for a treat. Here is a man with a degree in computer science who knew he wanted an academic life, a desire that then lead him to an MFA in poetry. Along the way he established the first SunSITE, and evolved that into ibilio.org, one of the more uniquely library-esque web sites.
With any luck, Paul will be visiting our humble abode next year to talk about the modern library and the post-modern idea of sharing and storing.
For you see, we have a very real issue.
What exactly do we do about all the past research we have accumulated? We are all very happy about new online journals (like ojrrp.org), but what about all the past information awaiting conversion into knowledge? Ah, there's the rub.
We have many. many ideas of how we might talk large publishing houses out of their stranglehold on this information, including (gasp!) appealing to Congress to "do something". But the bottom line is, no access = no knowledge creation = no progress. Imagine, dear researcher, being informed by your campus library that, despite incessant tuition increases and minimal support from your state government, we'll just have to live without access to ABI Inform (or whatever your favorite database might be). Imagine trying to recruit faculty to a university without such access.
We can talk all we wish about being a Top Ten This or a Top Ten That, but without access to the information accumulated by past researchers, exactly how are we to come up with the new ideas (A+B=C)?
Sigh.
The trouble is that the very system that ensures us some sense of academic freedom, also makes us very much like concrete waiting to dry.
Then there are people like Paul Jones. For those of you who have yet to experience the "Paul Jones" effect, well, you're in for a treat. Here is a man with a degree in computer science who knew he wanted an academic life, a desire that then lead him to an MFA in poetry. Along the way he established the first SunSITE, and evolved that into ibilio.org, one of the more uniquely library-esque web sites.
With any luck, Paul will be visiting our humble abode next year to talk about the modern library and the post-modern idea of sharing and storing.
For you see, we have a very real issue.
What exactly do we do about all the past research we have accumulated? We are all very happy about new online journals (like ojrrp.org), but what about all the past information awaiting conversion into knowledge? Ah, there's the rub.
We have many. many ideas of how we might talk large publishing houses out of their stranglehold on this information, including (gasp!) appealing to Congress to "do something". But the bottom line is, no access = no knowledge creation = no progress. Imagine, dear researcher, being informed by your campus library that, despite incessant tuition increases and minimal support from your state government, we'll just have to live without access to ABI Inform (or whatever your favorite database might be). Imagine trying to recruit faculty to a university without such access.
We can talk all we wish about being a Top Ten This or a Top Ten That, but without access to the information accumulated by past researchers, exactly how are we to come up with the new ideas (A+B=C)?
Sigh.
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