Note that this post was written before the US election results and is thus politically out-dated already.
I’d been doing some soul-searching lately about blog writing. Like many other writers who have written about their writing practices, I have periodic binges of self-denigration and convictions of irrelevance. Who reads blogs anyway? Well, plenty of people, to judge by the willingness of companies to advertise on blogs, and the various algorithm-prompted responses that offer me help in making my blog more note-worthy. Okay, so the question becomes not “are there readers?” but “do I have anything worthwhile to say?”
In the midst of that bleak mood, not even relieved by the second mug of coffee that morning and a freshly baked muffin, I read a short piece in a copy of The Walrus that my brother had graciously left with me. It was one of those short items buried in the back of the magazine, a gesture in the direction of loyal readers who read everything in a magazine, front to back (or some, perversely, back to front). In “Not Recommended,” former columnist for The Globe and Mail Russell Smith reflected on some of the changes that have altered the newspaper world entirely, and thus led to his lapsed contract with the GM.
Encountering this well-written, poignant article a mere hour or two after also reading a piece by Jane Coaston, on Vox.com, “Trump’s presidential campaign is Too Online,” seemed a bit of serendipity I could not ignore. Briefly, Coaston points out that Trump has chosen many of his talking points according to what he encounters on Twitter and has failed to grasp that only 10% of Twitter users generate 92% of the content, and that 80 – 85% of the American population don’t follow politics very closely. Hence, Trump’s focus on issues that matter greatly only to the relatively few people who shape their worldview according to Twitter.
Whether you agree with the finer points of Coaston’s analysis or not, or even her resistance to Trump, it seems clear that these days we all face the temptation to let algorithms determine what we read and therefore, what we deem important.
This was Russell Smith’s main point. His personal story of facing ever more pressure to write what would raise the rate of click-throughs is alarming. Apparently, in the digital world, it no longer matters to editors who reads your work or why, or whether what you have written has important influence for the general good. Just make sure that the number of clicks is increasing. That has implications for all of us readers as well, since the number of clicks determines what will show up on our screens.
The juxtaposition of an article pointing to specific risks of living in an online, click-driven world and an article mourning the loss of appropriate arbitration of content in the more thoughtful media did little to help me rethink the meaningfulness of blog-writing—apart from giving me material for this one! However, it did strengthen my resolve to continue supporting good journalism by subscribing to print editions of good magazines and journals.
I value print for several reasons. One of the lesser ones is that I spend too much time at my computer for my own good as it is; reading print magazines offers my eyes needed rest and my body more choices about how and where to sit/stand as I read. Quite frankly, I love the freedom of holding the paper in my hands, wherever I happen to be. May it be coffee-stained and crumbed, for all I care. Or, as my borrowed copy of The Walrus is, water-stained from being carried in a backpack in the rain.
More crucial is that I get to choose – first of all the magazine itself – and then which articles I will read. In the process, I will notice all the articles, all the little pieces in the back pages that give me humor, art news, obituaries, book reviews, poetry, and photo essays. Because the magazine may end up lying open on the kitchen table, or the coffee table, or even in the bathroom, my attention will be caught by that varied, yet carefully adjudicated material. Quite simply, I will read more, not less.
When I have a good news journal in my hands, my attention can remain focused completely on what I’m reading. No blinking, hyperactive ads, no hyperlinks perpetually interrupting my focus, drawing me down rabbit holes of information that merely distract from the main ideas. Attention spans are lengthened by solid print articles, not fractured hopelessly by the kind of impulsive leaping from site to site that makes online reading an entirely different kind of experience. (Which is why sources for this post are listed at the end.)
And what I read will be well-informed, and carefully edited, material. The over-the-kitchen-table, off-the-top-of-my-head, unfiltered, opinionated stuff that social media users are addicted to I can get from friends, or neighbours, or my hairdresser, all of whom I know well enough to be able to place the opinions into context, gauge the level of information on which they’re likely to be based, and decide how many grains of salt I’ll need at that point.
Not coincidentally, reputable magazines that have the time (and money) to assign the requisite research to their journalists offer more hope to their readers than many online, click-driven news clips. It is not a blind hopefulness based on an unwillingness to admit reality, but a hope that is based first of all on a careful analysis of what is and then on fact- and experienced-based possibilities. In the midst of their grim assessment of what’s going on in our culture and our politics, thoughtful, educated writers offer realistic options – options that are based on our moral responsibilities to others, especially to the most vulnerable others.
Above all, my subscribing to print editions of a newspaper or magazine does something for their bottom line. It signals that I care about supporting ethical journalism. It matters to me, for example, whether Mother Jones in the US has money enough to pay reporters to do the patient, time-consuming digging that is required to offer meaningful political analysis and to expose corruption in high places. My subscription provides but a tiny amount of money, compared to what is needed for a major magazine to stay afloat and to do its job well. Still it matters.
I shall keep subscribing.
https://www.magzter.com/article/Culture/The-Walrus/Not-Recommended [NOTE this will give you the first part of the article anyway. A better idea is to buy the magazine and read all of its articles.]
https://www.vox.com/21504280/trumps-2020-campaign-too-online
Stones and Flowers 