Abstract
Anyone who has spent their entire career in journalism, whether 10, 20 or even 30 years, feeling that one day there'll be a tap on the shoulder and someone will say “I'm so sorry, we made a mistake, you're not really a proper journalist”, will grab this book to see if it reveals all their secrets. Will it at last confirm that no one as ordinary as them is entitled to have so much fun and feel so fulfilled stabbing at a keyboard while getting paid, and that somehow the world has been hoodwinked?
Well, yes, possibly it will. Because this is a book about news journalism, mainly in newspapers but with a nod to broadcast. And this is the very spectre that haunts the majority of people in the industry who are beavering away in magazines and trade journals, writing blogs, tweeting, liking and, even, filling sections of a national newspaper. News makes sense of it all. If you want a litmus test showing who's the real deal journalistically, check out who's at work on Christmas Day. That's when skeleton staffs boot out features, critics*, fashion, arts, travel, sport and all the rest of the space-filling tribe as supernumerary, retaining just a hard core of news, rattling and tugging on their chains in the hope of a headline-worthy story. They are the “proper journalists”, the ones who should be British Standard kitemarked.
So, the book's title is a bit of con, as this Bluffer's Guide rapidly turns into a love letter to news desks, to Fleet Street, past, present and future, and to freedom of the press, by the Fleet Street Fox herself (more of which later) Susie Boniface. And it's a remarkably detailed canter, in just 120 pages or so, through a 320-year history of British journalism, including who does what in a newspaper, how to write expenses, through to deep disappointment with The Guardian for its inadequate rectification of the facts it had got so wrong regarding the deletion of voicemails of murdered 13-year-old Milly Dowler. She explains the problems with the PCC and Ipso and Impress and is less than flattering about newspaper lawyers and managing editors. It's a little treasure trove, especially for trainee journalists. Dyed-in-the-wool journos will be entertained and at times moved to argue. But what's new there?
So here's a bluffer's guide to this Bluffer's Guide.
It is published by the very same Haynes that presented pictures of Ford Escort camshafts and suitable socket sets for DIY mechanics, thus redefining helpful manuals, usually for men. Since the 1960s Haynes has moved into every area of life from smoking your own food (probably in a shed or garage) to choosing and maintaining a drum kit (ditto). Their Bluffer's Guides are in the same vein but without the pictures. Dismiss them as frivolous at your peril. However, happily, Boniface's natural wit shines through.
The book is filled with “bluffer's tips”, some wiser than others, that punctuate the narrative. For example: “Alcohol is a cheap truth drug… Try to remain more sober than your interviewee – ensure they eat nothing, but line your stomach with a jacket potato and cheese.” Or, “when discussing this [phone hacking] with a journalist, express bemusement about hacks being jailed… the stories they uncovered were not only true but lapped up enthusiastically by readers. When discussing it with The Reader, express disgust but point out that, had Jimmy Savile owned a mobile, he'd have been caught BEFORE he died”.
It's clear from this book that The Reader (Listener/Viewer) is both the journalist's driving purpose and principal enemy, mainly because The Reader/Listener/Viewer's opinion of journalists and journalism changes direction faster than a London black cab, but has an inbuilt preference for the negative.
While it will undoubtedly be read by journalists, and be packed among the microwave meals for students heading off to study media things at uni, all in all, the book is a plea to the general public to understand and appreciate journalism. A bit like a Remainer hoping a Brexiteer will see the light. Or, in the interests of journalistic balance, vice versa.
It's a natural progression for Boniface who, as the initially anonymous blogger Fleet Street Fox, described being a journalist in the early 21st century, sharing all the laughs and heart-searching and gossiping. She lectures in journalism to trainee journalists and now reaches out to the general public. And non-journos would certainly learn a lot of things from this, if only they'd believe them. Unfortunately, the entertaining tales about lunchtime-o-booze and even of Boris Johnson inventing the banned bendy bananas story while bored in Bruxelles will only confirm their prejudices. Well, probably not about Boris himself, as he has activated a Trump-like force field around him.
What you can't escape is that this book reflects Boniface's definition of the most important qualification needed to bluff yourself into journalism: “…a level of enthusiasm that borders on mental illness.” And with Piers Morgan, “speaking as one of the more accomplished bluffers in journalism history”, championing it on the back cover, she'll probably bluff her way into some pretty decent sales.