Abstract
John Stackhouse is now employed by the Royal Bank of Canada (RBC). That speaks volumes about the media crisis in that country and in the United States.
Mind you, there’s nothing wrong with being an employee of RBC. However, Stackhouse exited the journalism industry, and specifically Canada’s premier newspaper, the Globe and Mail, where he had been editor, for the world of corporate banking.
He is not alone; thousands of men and women in the United States and Canada are no longer covering politics, business, education, sports, the arts, and more. Instead, they are, like Stackhouse, doing something else. And Stackhouse is worried about that. However, if the public is worried about this brain drain, then too few appear to be doing anything about it. Too many people instead are engrossed by the latest must-see viral video, are retweeting something written by celebrities, or are supporting the idea that Facebook is a legitimate news source. While none of us knows exactly what that steady diet of what might be thought of as chocolate cake—yummy to the taste, rotten to the teeth—means for democratic society, Stackhouse is among those people who know it won’t be good.
This book is one part autobiography and one part challenge. It demands that the public and the journalism industry assess what the slow death of the newspaper means for democracy, deeply sourced news reporting, and an informed public. It asks that advertisers recognize that associating with legacy news brands continues to matter. It also reminds journalists to adopt an “entrepreneurial and competitive” mind-set in the coming years and set aside any ideas that they automatically demand attention because of what they do.
Stackhouse’s recollection of an invitation to have dinner with Russian President Vladimir Putin offers a powerful vignette of today’s journalism. He and several other influential newspaper editors received the invite in 2012, and they were allowed to address any topic with Putin. A video feed had been set up for Russian journalists who were allowed to watch the proceedings, which included a six-course meal, from a nearby room. “They would not be free to ask questions,” Stackhouse wryly noted.
As the dinner wound down, Putin mentioned in passing that he was going out to play hockey. Stackhouse asked if he could come along. Putin agreed. Soon, Stackhouse found himself on the ice with Putin and some of his friends, one of whom was a legendary Soviet and NHL player. The photo slideshow that developed from that night on the ice can be accessed at http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/in-pictures-hitting-the-ice-with-vladimir-putin/article550872/. Stackhouse’s report about Putin, his leadership, and his anticipated return to the presidency can be found at http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/vladimir-putin-a-21st-century-czar/article534016/?page=all. Although I don’t have the data to confirm this assertion, I’m confident the photo slideshow generated more clicks than the main story. Such is today’s multimedia journalism.
It is not a stretch to suggest that soon-to-retire Peter Mansbridge is Canada’s most influential journalist. He plays a small, but relevant, part in Stackhouse’s book. As Stackhouse recounts the deadly October day in 2014 when a lone gunman went on a shooting spree at Parliament Hill in Ottawa, Mansbridge went on the air at the CBC about 30 min after the first gun shot rang out. By that point, Twitter already had defined elements of the story, and those tweets had come from journalists assigned to cover Canada’s governmental leaders, politicians inside and near the parliament building, and eyewitnesses. Unfortunately, people who had not been there added to the plethora of tweets.
In the uncertainty and tension, would it be possible for people to grasp which was a firsthand and which a secondhand account? Perhaps worse, did people notice that the cerebral and serious Mansbridge, whom they had watched for two decades, was attempting to cut through the 140-character tumult and provide information he and other professional journalists had gathered? Stackhouse noted that the answer was obvious: “[I]n the slipstream of Twitter, his voice could no longer control the shape and style of news, at least not as effectively as TV anchors once did.”
Stackhouse once told an audience that the Globe and Mail would always rely on five qualities: hope, brains, confidence, moxie, and tradition. It’s fair to say that hope, confidence, and moxie will continue to erode as more and more journalists at that newspaper—and elsewhere—take their skills to other fields.