Take it from whence it comes

I invite you to take a look at the blogs you follow, or at your Facebook timeline, and note who’s contributing genuine, new, first-hand information to the world and who’s just trying to get people to join an angry mob.

iStock_000002081921MediumI’ve been mulling over writing a post that analyzes the rhetorical devices used by online trolls to transform civilized discussions into conflagrations but have decided it makes more sense to talk about a tool that will keep everyone’s blood pressure under control. And that’s evaluating information based on the source from whence it comes.

I noticed a few weeks ago, after reading an extremely well-researched indictment of some bad behavior in a professional community to which I belong, that the discussions of first-hand information tend to stay relatively civilized.

When people report on what they’ve witnessed, first hand, or what they’ve discovered through systematic research, the comments tend to be similarly first hand. Even if the comment is “I completely disagree with you” or “Well, that wasn’t what happened when I lit a cigarette and leaned over a sparking engine.” Whether the tone is supportive or dismissive, it still comes across as genuine and informative.

It’s when people post long rants on blogs, on Facebook, or in community discussions about what they think about someone they’ve never met who did something at an event they didn’t attend to someone who is a friend of a friend — that’s when the comments tend to heat up. And I think that’s in large part because when we read that sort of post or comment we are seized by a subliminal sense that this person has no idea what they are talking about. It’s like sensing wide open spaces where pictures, sounds, and reality ought to be. And then, of course, there’s your own urge, which I’m sure is a deep-rooted instinct, to leap in and fill that wide open space with your own comments. Which may, sadly, be just as vaporous as the original post.

I’ve decided to start a one-person campaign to comment, positively and supportively, on posts that are based on first-hand experience. I plan to do this even in instances where I don’t think that the generalizations the person is making based on their one or two data points are justified. My rationale for giving support? They’re bringing themselves to the discussion, and that’s a good thing.

And, for my own sanity, I’m going to ignore posts that say “I heard that he said that she said that the-person-she’s-not-going-to-name did blah, blah, rant, rant, and rantforth.” In fact, if I see a series of these from one person, I’m going to quietly mute that person. That’s because, whatever their intentions, they aren’t adding much to the conversation. They’re just amplifying it and adding some unpleasant noise while they’re about it.

Note that the two exceptions my the plan are people (such as journalists) who have done actual reporting on the situation (“I called the business owner, and she told me X, Y, Z”) and people who did research on it (“I counted the number of reports of a particular occurrence during the past three years, and here are the numbers I came up with.”) They may have interviewed the wrong person, to your view, or they may have counted the wrong things, but they are adding actual information to the discussion. Information that any commenter can cite in their reply. “You should have calculated the mean rather than the median” is so much more helpful than “You and your cowardly cabal are obviously the scum of the earth.”

I invite you to take a look at the blogs you follow, or at your Facebook timeline, and note who’s contributing genuine, new, first-hand information to the world and who’s just trying to get people to join an angry mob.

What’s next for Seattle’s tech community?

The agenda for GeekWire Summit (2014) includes panels and presentations with Chris Anderson (no relation) the former editor of WIRED magazine and now CEO of 3D Robotics; Walt Mossberg and Kara Swisher of Re/code; Elissa Fink, CMO of Tableau; John Legere, CEO of T-Mobile; and the U.S. governments top technology official, Steven VanRoekel.

WebIt’s been a few years since I’ve attended the GeekWire Summit in Seattle. I’m going this year as a journalist covering the event. I’m attending in part because I’m sensing some changes in Seattle’s technology community and I want to know more. It seems as though more of the tech folks I know are working for large, established companies. There’s also a renewed focus on hardware (wearable gadgets and drones). And you can’t help but notice increased competition from technology hubs in cities where the cost of housing is significantly lower.

So, I’m going to GeekWire to see which of my assumptions get validated — and which get altered by new information.

The full-day, single-track agenda includes panels and presentations with Chris Anderson (no relation) the former editor of WIRED magazine and now CEO of 3D Robotics; Walt Mossberg and Kara Swisher of Re/code; Elissa Fink, CMO of Tableau; John Legere, CEO of T-Mobile; and the U.S. governments top technology official, Steven VanRoekel.

GeekWire Summit, 8 a.m. – 6 p.m. Oct. 2, at the Westin Seattle. Tickets: $399.; group pricing available.

 

The future of journalism on the web

Mark Andreessen’s article about online journalism includes a list of organizations to watch: The Atlantic, Buzzfeed, The Guardian, The Verge, and more.

Newspaper on computer screenInterested in what’s happening to journalism as it moves online?

There’s a lot of ill-informed link bait on this topic in the blogosphere, so I was delighted when social media maven Larry Swanson pointed me to this great essay by Marc Andreessen, “The Future of the News Business: A Monumental Twitter Stream All in One Place.”

Perhaps the best part of Andreessen’s article is the list at the end of examples of  journalism organizations to watch, including The Atlantic, Buzzfeed, The Guardian, and The Verge.

Objective journalism?

A damning analysis of how contemporary print journalism works, from The Fake Steve Jobs.

Monday’s reading starts off with this damning analysis of how contemporary print journalism works, from The Fake Steve Jobs. He writes:

“They have to pretend to be “objective,” but what that really means is you put a vague headline on the story and you write the top in some boring way but then you just stack up a pile of negative quotes from people who don’t like the Borg — bam, bam, bam — but you spread them out, and you put some boring stuff in between them, like so many pillows between so many grenades…”

Read it all.

(Thanks to my comrade “Boris” for the tip.)

What do good blogging and good journalism have in common?

Easy: Great stories and great writing.

Bloggers often (and justifiably) criticize traditional print journalism as stultifying and ho-hum. But here’s a front page news story from the Seattle Times that adheres to all the journalistic standards, including the fact-filled lead and inverted pyramid construction, while being just as clever (and more absorbing) than most blog posts.

If you’re from Seattle, you’ll recognize the writer.

The long, slow death of the American newspaper

Journalism began dying about 50 years ago, but the public seems to have noticed it just recently, when the walking dead that American dailies had become finally started dropping into their graves.

You could say that the rise of the Internet, creating an alternate pathway for transmitting information, was the final nail in the coffin.

If you looked at a local newspaper from 50 years ago today, it would seem boring to you. That’s because newspapers used to be filled with stories about Planning and Zoning Board meetings, School Board meetings — even meetings of the schools’ finance committee. There were police blotters, with the names of everyone in town who’d been arrested, and for what.

Somewhere along the line, local newspapers became convinced that their readers would rather see syndicated gossip about Britney Spears and American Idol than read “boring” stories about which developer was about to build a high-rise blocking your view and raising everyone’s taxes. Papers stopped reporting on who’d been arrested (yet again) for assault or drunk driving.

The papers that are disappearing today are but ghosts of local journalism, finally fading away.

Oddly, the investigative journalism that appeared to have revitalized the field in the 1960s probably contributed to its demise. As a reporter who did investigative work as well as beat reporting, I was on two papers that plunged into investigative projects in the 1970s. But instead of focusing investigative projects on suspicious activities beat reporters unearthed through their reporting, the investigations often began with a paper’s top officials asking “Who’s big who we could take down and make a nice, Pulitzer-style splash?” Those investigative witch hunts usually focused on a safe-to-attack government agency or on an individual in public office (such as the mayor with personal problems, or the social services project that was under-serving children or the elderly). You rarely saw investigations of banks, real estate, or private industry. That’s because local companies paid taxes and local real estate and financial operations were headed by the same folks who lunched with the newspaper publisher at the country club.

Yes, the demise of the American newspaper leaves Americans without any way to get information on what’s really going on in their towns and cities. But how upset can we get, since it had been years since we’d been seeing that information on more than a sporadic basis, anyway! (BTW, the local new site Crosscut does a better job of traditional reporting than the Times and P-I ever have.) And, finally: Many people make the argument that people would rather read about Britney Spears and American Idol than about the goings on in local government.

So…anyone want to blog about the Seattle Planning Commission?

Walt Crowley and real journalism

As sad as it is to think about the recent death of Seattle journalist/historian Walt Crowley, I was heartened to see the remembrance Jean Godden wrote for Crosscut. It’s classic journalistic writing, in the very best sense. Here’s her lede:

I have six indispensable books authored by Walt Crowley on the shelf in my City Hall office, tears in my eyes, and a very large hole in my heart.

Godden, a longtime Seattle newspaper reporter and columnist before going over to the Seattle City Council, writes in the old style. When I read a well-crafted piece like this (and I don’t, very often) I think that comparing blogging to classic journalism is like comparing a stroll around the block to mountain climbing.

On the other hand, I’d be the first to admit that it’s an unfair comparison. Because there’s very little “classic journalism” being written — or published — these days.