{"id":43680,"date":"2023-11-11T18:04:47","date_gmt":"2023-11-12T01:04:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newmexicopbs.org\/productions\/newmexicoinfocus\/?p=43680"},"modified":"2023-11-13T11:59:20","modified_gmt":"2023-11-13T18:59:20","slug":"news-for-the-people","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newmexicopbs.org\/productions\/newmexicoinfocus\/news-for-the-people\/","title":{"rendered":"News for the People"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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I\u2019ve approached this space recently with a clear idea of what I wanted to say: context<\/a> on the importance of citizen police oversight in Albuquerque, which we tackled in last week\u2019s episode of New Mexico in Focus, and some reflections<\/a> on why I\u2019m still a journalist the week before that. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Today, such clarity abandoned me, replaced by a socking in of the low-drifting clouds I\u2019ve known too often in my decades at the keyboard. The working headline for what you\u2019re reading now has, for the last 90 minutes, been, \u201cThe Tyranny of the Blank Page.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But in addition to the aforementioned question of why<\/em>, another conundrum has found its way with increasing frequency to the front of my mind: If I\u2019m to remain a journalist, for whom <\/em>is the journalism? A lovely field piece<\/a> that aired in this week\u2019s show \u2014 courtesy of NMiF Producer Antonio Sanchez and photojournalist Robert McDermott \u2014 offered a new lens through which to interrogate. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNews for the People: Local Journalism in the 1970s\u201d will be on display at the Albuquerque Museum through early March. You really ought to see it if you haven\u2019t already, if even just for the array of what now pass as vintage tools of the craft. As you\u2019ll see when you watch Antonio\u2019s and Bobby\u2019s piece, the exbibit explores the big themes of the era: protest, turmoil and the women\u2019s movement at long last arriving in local newsrooms en masse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The exhibit\u2019s title, though, is what has my gears grinding: News for the People<\/em>… <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I began my professional career at the Albuquerque Journal <\/em>at a time when daily newspapers still maintained a squeeze on agenda setting, conversation framing and information distribution. The model was simple: Bundle up as many relevant facts as we could each day and toss them in your driveway overnight. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

One might call that spamming nowadays. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mechanism, in important ways, enabled a philosophy that guided the way we wrote stories at the Journal<\/em>. This ethos was apparent in national publications, too, and in television news broadcasts. Because of the quasi-monopoly the news media had on information, we were taught that every story was for every person. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

News for the people, indeed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This posture led to criticism that we were, among other sins, dumbing down what we were delivering. Tough, but often fair. Still, I can hear the principle of journalistic populism dripping, gruff and grim, through the Journal<\/em> city editor\u2019s words every time I had \u201coverwritten\u201d a story.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The idea of big-tent journalism is sprinkled all throughout the Albuquerque Museum\u2019s exhibit: in the headlines, the multimedia pieces and the rest. Presenting stories for everyone, all the time, clearly predated my arrival on the scene in the very early 2000s. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But in 2008, everything changed. The internet, which most news organizations had not taken seriously enough, was democratizing information faster than we could adapt. The Great Recession was upending legacy media\u2019s business model. Social media was elbowing its way into the conversation, promising for free what we\u2019d used to pay our mortgages. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something else changed, too, mostly on account of necessity. We began to talk about audience in a way we\u2019d not before. (Now, 15 years on, most news organizations have whole teams dedicated to \u201caudience engagement.\u201d) News for the people wasn\u2019t going to change as a guiding light, but which <\/em>people became an important part of the ongoing discussion. Should every story still be for every person?  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of my favorite people with whom to explore this question is John Fleck<\/a>, professor of practice in Water Policy and Governance in UNM’s Department of Economics and the Utton Center\u2019s writer in residence. Before any of that fanciness, Fleck spent a couple of decades writing about water, climate change and more at the Journal<\/em> and in Southern California. He also started what would become an important blog<\/a> a hundred years ago, back when blogs could be important, and it remains so today. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I asked Fleck once in 2015 or so how I should be thinking about audience. I\u2019d left the Journal<\/em> a year or two prior, and I didn\u2019t know who I was making journalism for anymore. I\u2019ll never forget what he told me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSometimes a story is for six people \u2014 be they legislators or people who live in a neighborhood you\u2019re writing about,\u201d Fleck said. \u201cSometimes a story is for a family whose loved one was harmed and other families like theirs. And sometimes a story is still for everyone.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

What Fleck meant, of course, was that some stories are meant to land in front of decision makers and, potentially, to influence them. Others should connect with anyone, as a means to inform, educate, enrage or delight \u2014 on the rare occasion, all at once. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think about that every time I make or help to make a piece of journalism. And I hope that comes through when you watch New Mexico in Focus: Sometimes, you might be one of the six; other times, you\u2019re in the boat with everyone else. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

-Jeff Proctor, Executive Producer  <\/p>\n\n\n\n