Stephen Vasciannie

Newspaper provide an important measure of social orientation and inclinations.

Recently, a cover story of the Economist asked the question: "Who Killed the Newspaper?" The story raised several important points about the newspaper business in developed countries, and reported on the prediction that American newspapers will all disappear by 2043. The analysis about the future of newspapers requires further consideration, though I should say, from the outset, that I am inclined to Twain: rumours of the death of newspapers are, I hope, greatly exaggerated.

The daily newspaper stands as an integral part of the cultural landscape in its home community. Somewhere in Naipaul there lies the comment that newspapers - like public behaviour in the cinema - provide an important measure of social orientation and inclinations. If you read a paper even with moderate frequency you have an index of the society's preoccupations, filtered by editorial judgment, but generally accurate nonetheless.

My expectations of newspapers tend to be high. This has something to do with the fact that the newspaper represents the printed word: it's done with a deadline, but the printed word requires care and professionalism. For this reason, each error that slips in - whether typographical, grammatical or otherwise - becomes a larger statement about commitment to quality than the small error itself. In newspapers, then, the sum of the errors seems greater than the sum of the individual parts.

Well-served

Jamaica has been generally well-served by its newspapers, and to be sure, the Gleaner, with all its historical and historic associations, has been and continues to be a veritable university for the print media. So, this column is not really about local newspapers, though I am inclined to the view that some of the broader trends from developed countries are applicable, in greater or lesser degree, to some aspects of the newspaper business at home.

The most immediate threat to newspapers in the developed world comes, of course, from the Internet. If I can read a news story online without paying extra for it, why should I purchase a newspaper to have access to the same story? One answer to this question may be tradition; another may be that I simply like the feel of newspapers, or alternatively, that I find clicking and waiting mildly irritating. But even so, the broad evidence is that newspaper readership is on the decline, and particularly among younger readers in developed countries the newspaper-reading habit is seriously endangered.

Free Riders

The traditional newspapers of the metropole have adopted countermeasures to retain brand loyalty. Some offer free papers, drawing revenues mainly from advertising - about 28 million free newspapers distributed daily (according to the Economist). Similarly, all major newspapers - including those of the 'Outer Empire' - have Internet editions. This is a great boon to readers in distant parts: even in coldest February I can read most of the New York Times daily in the warmth of the Kingston sun.

But free riders on the Internet can kill the paper, and advertising revenues online tend to be relatively insubstantial. Also, Internet readers tend to be less dedicated to one paper, and skip from item to item on the worldwide web, so they are difficult to target as part of an advertising strategy.

In the circumstances, some newspapers have also opted to present one face for the printed word, and another for the online edition. This may be based on the correct assumption that the printed word has a permanent quality yet to be fully associated with the Internet. There are, simultaneously, indications that readers want lighter fare in their newspapers - or at least, this is what some surveys suggest. Fewer foreign stories, fewer long ponderous pieces, more about the cat in the tree next door, more popular music, and more pictures. And shortness - brevity is king in tackling Internet competition.

Stephen Vasciannie is a Professor of International Law at the University of the West Indies and works part-time as a Deputy Solicitor General in the Attorney-General's chambers.