David Simon was a newspaperman at The Baltimore Sun before moving, as he said, “to the fleshpots of Hollywood,” where he wrote the NBC series “Homicide” based on one of his books and, later, created, wrote and produced the hit HBO series “The Wire.”
He acknowledges that he doesn’t feel like the best person to speak for the rank and file editors and reporters of America’s beleagured newspapers. As one of them, after reading Simon’s prepared remarks for a May 6 Senate committee hearing on the future of journalism, I’d like to let him know he can speak for me anytime.
I won’t reprint his comments in full here. You can read them by pulling up the PDF file at this link. But I do want to provide some excerpts. They’re worth reading. More than once. All of the following words are Simon’s:
What I say will likely conflict with what representatives of the newspaper industry will claim for themselves. And I can imagine little agreement with those who speak for the new media. From the captains of the newspaper industry, you will hear a certain martyrology — a claim that they were heroically serving democracy to their utmost only to be undone by a cataclysmic shift in technology and the arrival of all things web-based. From those speaking on behalf of new media, weblogs and that which goes twitter, you will be treated to assurances that American journalism has a perfectly fine future online, and that a great democratization in newsgathering is taking place.
In my city, there is a technical term we often administer when claims are plainly contradicted by facts on the ground. We note that the claimant is, for lack of a better term, full of it. Though in Baltimore, of course, we are explicit with our nouns.
High-end journalism is dying in America and unless a new economic model is achieved, it will not be reborn on the web or anywhere else. The internet is a marvelous tool and clearly it is the informational delivery system of our future, but thus far it does not deliver much first-generation reporting. Instead, it leeches that reporting from mainstream news publications, whereupon aggregating websites and bloggers contribute little more than repetition, commentary and froth. Meanwhile, readers acquire news from the aggregators and abandon its point of origin — namely newspapers themselves.
In short, the parasite is slowly killing the host.
It is nice to get stuff for free, of course. And it is nice that more people can have their say in the new media. And while some of our internet commentary is — as with any unchallenged and unedited intellectual effort — rampantly ideological, ridiculously inaccurate and occasionally juvenile, some of it is also quite good, even original.
Understand here that I am not making a Luddite argument against the internet and all that it offers. But democratized and independent though they may be, you do not — in my city — run into bloggers or so-called citizen journalists at City Hall, or in the courthouse hallways or at the bars and union halls where police officers gather. You do not see them consistently nurturing and then pressing sources. You do not see them holding institutions accountable on a daily basis.
. . . I am offended to think that anyone, anywhere believes American institutions as insulated, self-preserving and self-justifying as police departments, school systems, legislatures and chief executives can be held to gathered facts by amateurs pursuing the task without compensation, training or for that matter, sufficient standing to make public officials even care to whom they are lying or from whom they are withholding information. . . . Indeed, the very phrase citizen journalist strikes my ear as nearly Orwellian. A neighbor who is a good listener and cares about people is a good neighbor; he is not in any sense a citizen social worker. Just as a neighbor with a garden hose and good intentions is not a citizen firefighter. To say so is a heedless insult to trained social workers and firefighters.
. . . When newspaper chains began cutting personnel and content, their industry was one of the most profitable yet discovered by Wall Street money. We know now — because bankruptcy has opened the books — that the Baltimore Sun was eliminating its afternoon edition and trimming nearly 100 editors and reporters in an era when the paper was achieving 37 percent profits. In the years before the internet deluge, the men and women who might have made The Sun a more essential vehicle for news and commentary — something so strong it might have charged for its product online — they were being ushered out the door so that Wall Street could command short-term profits in the extreme.
Such short-sighted arrogance rivals that of Detroit in the 1970s, when automakers — confident that American consumers were mere captives — offered up Chevy Vegas and Pacers and Gremlins without the slightest worry that mediocrity would be challenged by better-made cars from Germany or Japan.
In short, my industry butchered itself and we did so at the behest of Wall Street and the same unfettered, free-market logic that has proved so disastrous for so many American industries. And the original sin of American newspapering lies, indeed, in going to Wall Street in the first place.