Dispatches Archives - Page 10 of 21

February 9, 2013November 29, 2024

‘Journalistic Outsourcing:’ Not the journalism I grew up with..

[Find longer essays on media and society in my book Kneading Journalism]

It’s now almost cliche to talk about the death (or metamorphosis) of newspapers, and the evolution of journalism, but maybe we should talk more about skill outsourcing.

Ink-stained reporters and editors used to be the true gatekeepers of information, able to amplify or suppress stories, scandals, and secrets simply by printing information or not.

This is obviously no longer the case, as Twitter, Facebook, CNN iReporters, bloggers, hobbyists–you name it–have all become some form of news agent. I am reluctant to use the term “journalist” to describe some of these actors, or “journalism” to describe what they do, because these terms are something special to me…a journalist.

I have proudly called myself a journalist after mixing in different media, paying my dues, to learn what responsibility and influence a microphone or notepad can have. It is true many types of people can report events, but are they all journalists?

The Poynter Institute’s Kelly McBride said news organizations (and their journalists) can provide needed context to information, when the role of gatekeeper has been changed or abolished. She was specifically commenting on the ‘manifesto’ of a still-at-large LAPD “renegade cop,” but I think the observation of a market-driven change in what journalists do and are is important.

Just as journalism has been facing epic transformations, my views of the industry have soured. It is not breaking news to say a journalist is disappointed in journalism–it is almost a honed skill to complain about the decline of quality in between the rare journalistic triumphs.

But I am ever more bruised by the realization that what I learned about journalism, and have come to identify as the ideals supposedly supported by my noble profession, may no longer hold true most of the time.

And the tasks, duties, and truly ‘noble’ parts of journalism, are often outsourced to other professions or industries, only to be reported on after-the-fact by journalists.

And if journalists are not the ones doing the true journalistic work any more, then is there any reason to defend journalism as a profession? Or just journalism as a craft practiced by anyone?

February 2, 2013December 14, 2023

Debriefing Davos

Inside the main conference center, where WEF delegates network, charm, and influence the world.

The residents of the Swiss resort town of Davos understand the situation brought upon them by the World Economic Forum, and its annual meeting. Some delegates to the annual meeting seem oblivious to the Swiss everyday life which continues outside the security checkpoints, and between the carefully-planned events at various hotels, restaurants, and private venues which dominate this week in January. The WEF delegates are arguably some of the most powerful people in business, politics, and non-profit activism. On the snow-covered sidewalks of Davos it is not uncommon to see well-dressed men and women window shopping, or carefully trekking to a high-end restaurant. Many take up the whole sidewalk–the locals, and I, tended to walk for a time in the street to avoid a kind of clash of civilizations.

Davos is not a helpless village overrun by the world’s wealthiest, defenseless against the “bling” flashed unnecessarily. It is a resort town. It thrives off wealthy skiers and vacationers. It is expanding its already respectable five-star hotel offerings because the people keep coming. But the annual meeting of the World Economic Forum takes this show of class-status to another level. As with many topics my role as journalist lets me, very literally, walk between the worlds of überwealthy delegates and regular folks on the street. I might be dressed in a nice (for a journalist) suit, but I still hand my grocery store membership card to the surprised cashier, and I say hello to the locals beginning to step toward the street as I navigate the sidewalks. And then I go through security, and peer into an exclusive networking event, where decisions which affect the world could be made over orange juice and free magazines.

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December 19, 2012January 20, 2017

A year in Swiss journalism (2012)

It’s not uncommon for sitcoms to do flashback shows to fill space in a down-time, nor is it rare for end-of-year lists to flood shows or websites as the clock ticks toward New Year’s. In that spirit of “everyone else is doing it,” I am here putting forth a look back at my year.

The catch? I wanted to compile a list of some of my most important stories covered in 2012. It is almost cliché for a journalist to say this, but my job is one which provides a lowly chap with a microphone (me) the “golden ticket” to unseen territory. This could give access to the proverbial boardroom to interview business leaders; this could open the doors of Parliament for stories on tax debates and refugee rights; or it could give me access to a deeply personal aspect of someone’s life, who trusts that I will do my utmost to respect and accurately portray whatever glimpse I am afforded. It is the latter-most point that I relish the most. Regular readers of this website will know I have a tendency to want to bring voice to those not often heard, or included in the greater society. That’s cliché though, too, isn’t it? “Giving voice to the voiceless.” I hope the difference between my work and the cliché is that I actually do it. I talked to asylum seekers hoping not to be deported, one of whom said he walked from Greece. I experienced Cairo with a Swiss-Egyptian, seeing his childhood home and the rough streets which frame his memories. I am not saying I speak with the roughest characters, or the most excluded in our society–there is no contest in exploring lesser-seen fringes of our society. But in the end I feel my work has been fair, and accurate, contributing to the greater discourse of what is happening in our communities. Below are some of my highlights of a year gone by…

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November 3, 2012January 20, 2017

Seeking normalcy along tram tracks

He walks with an air of confidence, of experience, and I feel those traits have been hard-learned by time living on the streets, and going through whatever it is that landed him there. I’ve never spoken to him, and I don’t know his name, but he’s a semi-regular character during my morning commute.

Mixed in with the well-dressed bankers, the manic and overly security-conscious tourists, and the occasional red-headed journalist, is this character sporting a long gray beard to his belt line, and long gray hair down his back; he saunters up and down the light-rail tracks with his eyes scanning the ground with a burning intensity. He’s well-equipped: a bulging day-pack looms from his shoulders, hiking boots, and outdoor clothing complete the look. His image is like ZZ Top mixed with Bear Grylls, but with a life-hardened veneer.

If you were just to see him in passing, you probably wouldn’t know what he is doing. Maybe you would think he is just another neurotic traveler pacing the tram platform. But after a while of watching this man it is clear he is purposefully pacing, and searching intently for something. And it isn’t for what you might first guess.

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October 28, 2012May 27, 2024

Reflections on a falling crucifix

I’d like to begin this post by expressing my regret that, after enduring the pain and emotional exhaustion of a wife battling cancer, a man lost his leg in an accident involving a falling crucifix. I begin with that expression of regret because I want to be clear that I don’t bear any negative feelings toward the man described in this CBS 2 story from New York.

It was tragic.

But in reading this story I was presented with a few theological considerations, perhaps prompted by poor or unclear writing: “David Jimenez believed his devotion to a crucifix was responsible for his wife being cured of cancer,” it says. This sentence infers the man had a devotion to a particular object, a crucifix. And in his desire to show reverence for that object, it dislodged and crushed his leg. What is this story saying, or not, about faith, and about God?

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October 20, 2012December 20, 2023

In Defense of Journalism Education

[An expanded version of this essay appears in my book Kneading Journalism.]

I have a degree in Journalism. I am proud of that education, and the places it’s taken me. I am also a rarity in journalism, I feel, as employers increasingly seem to value graduates with qualifications in political science, economics, perhaps history, and then maybe a graduate degree in Journalism. (or forgo it all together) Students are, sometimes jokingly, warned away from an undergraduate education in journalism or media studies because the craft of journalism is one honed, or not, through a career, and the basics can be picked up on the job. No journalism degree is necessary, and in fact other specialties would be cherished more.

The debate over attending journalism school (J-School) is not new, and I feel the proponents for the degree are being outnumbered. Journalism training Mecca, the Poynter Institute, recently aggregated four recent arguments against a journalism degree. I understand the profession is changing, and I understand technology is evolving at a pace faster than many media outlets can handle effectively, but there are certain basics picked up in the journalistic test-kitchen of a university which are disappearing by the lack of emphasis on a journalism education. And the profession, public, and society are suffering because of it.

August 10, 2012February 15, 2015

Free write: Visiting the Vine

Care and time went into these bundles of goodness

Editor’s note: In memoir class we often reflected on literature or things, and then allowed that to grow into a writing exercise. I tried to do that here.

Stumbling along Swiss trails, in and out of dense wood and open pasture, neat and cleanly-kept vines seem out-of-place and natural, all at the same time. Plump bundles of a shadowy lavender fruit sit patiently drinking in more sunlight. The tiny treats are supported by leaf-rich vines; each leaf a hue of green, red, or dark purple depending on its phase and position to the sun. Wiry, wild vines seem harsh and drab without these bundles, but time brings forth the bloom. Days in the hot sun, brushing away horse flies and curious pests, can seem torturous and slow when one awaits yet more from the plants’ brittle bones and bundled blossom. Continue reading “Free write: Visiting the Vine”