The best columns take a simple idea, add a dollop of emotion, blend in some outrage, and focus in tightly. Take two of today's potential candidates for this space.
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Firstly, how about charging anyone who's travelled interstate and lied about it with attempted manslaughter, instead of the minor, wishy-washy offence of breaking quarantine restrictions? After all, the consequences of their actions are as predictable as letting off a shotgun in a busy street.
Or perhaps you'd prefer to read another article?
How about a column lambasting the hapless Daniel Andrews? After all, he's presided over Victoria's utterly inadequate response to COVID-19. Either piece could easily be worked up so it ended with a (carefully worded) hint that someone has "blood on their hands". These would both be good reads.
Idea, emotion and outrage. Opinions, but not news.
For 94 years The Canberra Times has been offering up editorials (and comment) alongside news stories. Some have been controversial, opinionated and edgy; others tend more towards the analytical and considered. The key point is, however, that they're commissioned and curated - the editors have always (well, normally) attempted to balance up ideas to reflect the world the way it is, rather than pandering to a particular ideological perspective or bias.
The great myth that underlies all news reporting is that it's transparent, a simple reflection of the real world. It's not. Even the best straight reporting requires choices, and decisions require bias. The point is to minimise these and balance them over time so as to reflect the "real" world as accurately as you can. At times it's a clunky process, but at its best it's a smoothly whirring mechanism that works well to keep everyone provided with the news they need - and society needs to function.
Not, however, today.
Want to read evidence climate change is a hoax, or how the High Court is protecting a ring of paedophiles? There's plenty of it out there. That doesn't mean, however, that it's the truth.
Nobody should cry simply because the old business model of the media proprietors has been broken. Everyone should be terrified by what's replacing it.
The journalism you see is driven by two imperatives. Individual reporters are striving to make their stories the best and most exciting (and, of course, accurate) in the paper, because that's the way to get noticed and promoted. This means choosing the best, most exciting angle or, for opinion pieces, adding a dash of controversy. Editors, however, work towards a different imperative. They know readers don't just want entertainment, but to know what's really going on. The whole big picture. Only publishing sensational stories isn't an option, because readers would quickly realise that reflects a warped view of what's happening. That's no guide for navigating a path through life.
That's why editors exist. They make sure the paper, as a whole, reflects reality. They bring everything together. They're the sad, old, "eat-your-greens" sort of people, because they know the cheap sugar hit of sensation won't provide the nutrition we need to live wholesome lives. Simply providing titillating stories is all very well, but it's like driving your car while only looking out the side windows. Interesting view, but not much use.
This isn't, however, the way Facebook, Twitter or Google work. The new media model is simple and appeals directly to the emotions. That's why it's a winner. It's also no way to understand the world.
These apps like to pretend they don't edit the news - but they do. The difference is that their algorithms aren't driven by the same imperative of providing the whole picture. They just want to keep you using, and that's why they're like drugs. You think you're getting a balanced diet, but the internet can, and does, offer cake, followed by ice-cream, with chocolate to finish. Fun, addictive, but not certainly not healthy.
Yet these are the algorithms that shape our world.
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They offer free, interesting stories that titillate and excite us. We're on the apps anyway, in-touch with friends and colleagues, generally just living our lives when suddenly a story pops up. So of course we click and read. Or perhaps we're browsing the news - because it's all there, isn't it, after all, the papers are just giving it away for free. And the algorithms have already done the curating bit too, working out exactly what it is you want to read. That's so much easier than wading through all the "news", all those articles you're not interested in.
That's how it starts. And because you get stimulating articles that are tailored to your interests, you rely on the app more and more. And because the app's not stupid, it collects information about how long you spend reading particular articles and which wormholes you choose, voluntarily, to enter - and it starts tailoring the articles towards your needs and desires.
Want to read evidence climate change is a hoax, or how the High Court is protecting a ring of paedophiles? There's plenty of it out there. That doesn't mean, however, that it's the truth; it just means the algorithm knows your bias and what you want to read. It's become editor, but it's a program that's simply learnt to reflect back the picture of the world you want to see. It's not the way things really are.
It's no accident demagogues like Donald Trump, Boris Johnson and Jair Bolsonaro have come to power in conjunction with the breakdown of the "old" news media. All these politicians have naturally evolved to harness the new mediums of communication. Their personalities (larger than life!) and policies (better, better, best!) pander to the public just as the apps do. They're complimentary "technologies".
This is why the ACCC's new recommendation - making digital platforms pay for the journalism they use - would be both irrelevant and a disaster if implemented. It ignores the crucial role of the editor. Only a blanket ban on social media apps using stories can save journalism.
- Nicholas Stuart is a Canberra writer and a regular columnist.