Must the news be boring? I don’t mean to be tendentious. Asking whether news should or should not be interesting would have been seen as preposterous just a few years ago, before the extent of the newspaper crisis became fully evident. Newspaper front pages—in their modern configuration, anyway, which dates back to Joseph Pulitzer’s innovations of the 1880s—had long determined how we understood what news meant.
Headlines were carefully calculated graphic representations of import. The lead story could get a one-, two-, or three-column headline—which could be a single- or double-decker with a subhead—a weighting mechanism meant to allow the public to shape, order, and compartmentalize its understanding of world events. More recently, the obligatory “weather photo”—a reassuring image of sunbathers, cross-country skiers in unlikely settings, uplifting ethnic or sports celebrations, or kids with cute animals—signaled that the editors were empathetic toward their readers even as they did their editorial duties, like doctors who gave lollipops to children.
News, at least as practiced by the major broadsheets for decades, was a sacred trust. Readers needed news and had limited ways to learn about current events. Editors would tell us what to read, and we would read it. News didn’t have to be interesting, because it was important, and any self-styled citizen of the world needed to know what was important. Of course, print-newspaper readership is now in what may or may not be terminal decline, and news is available instantaneously on the Web, where the hallowed, exquisitely calibrated arts of the front page have been washed away like sand castles at high tide.
While one can have a separate debate over what is lost when the center no longer holds, when each of us lives in his own maximally distributed, fully customized info-space, only Pollyannas can doubt the change. And there is clearly a bigger discussion to be had about how newspapers can continue to thrive as readers increasingly move to the Web, where the profit opportunities remain slimmer than those in print. If only to forestall the inevitable deluge, why not consider a radical notion? Stop being important and start being interesting.
Far-out as it sounds, the raw materials for such a change are actually quite close at hand. Many newspapers already keep a running tally of what’s “interesting”: the real-time “Most Popular” boxes on their Web sites that list the most– e-mailed and most-blogged stories in the paper, as well as the most-used search terms. The Most Popular function serves as a shadow front page, highlighting what readers find interesting enough to send along to their friends or blog about, as opposed to what the editors want them to read. It’s a rough gauge of reader behavior, to be sure, but as it turns out, a fairly consistent one.
In my own attempt to formulate a reader-response theory, I reviewed a week’s worth of front pages of The Washington Post, The Los Angeles Times, and The New York Times in September and compared them with each day’s most–e-mailed list, which seemed more useful than the most-blogged list, because it factors out agenda-driven blogging.
I had expected the most–e-mailed results to track the lineups of the more baldly audience-focused TV newscasts, which have increasingly made a fetish of “news that matters to you,” and hence are packed with tedious features on your health, your real estate, your job, your children, and so forth. Instead, the most–e-mailed lists, despite a smattering of parochial concerns, were a rich stew of global affairs, provocative insight, hot-button issues, pop culture, compelling narrative, and enlightened localism. In short, they were interesting. What they were not, generally, was important, at least not in the grand tectonic geopolitical sense.
Among the most–e-mailed articles on Friday, September 14, for example, was a feature that ran in The New York Times’ second arts section called “Paths of Resistance in the East Village.” The writer, John Strausbaugh, a particularly gifted chronicler of New Yorkiana, toured Manhattan’s legendarily left-leaning neighborhood with the photographer and videographer Clayton Patterson, who’d been tracking the transformation of the neighborhood from radical outpost to high-priced BoBo nesting perch for almost 30 years. It was a piece brimming with history, politics, real estate, and local lore, going back to 1857 and the first clashes between police and recent immigrants.
Two days earlier, as the front page commemorated the sixth anniversary of 9/11, the most–e-mailed list contained two stories about a just-deceased parrot named Alex, who in his 31 years had learned some 150 words; op-eds by Thomas Friedman and Maureen Dowd, then still confined to the digital purdah of TimesSelect and expostulating on China and throwing shade at General Petraeus, respectively; a report from Dresden about Germans’ peculiar fascination with Native American culture; and a trend piece about new social-networking sites for older people. Accompanying the 9/11 coverage on the Times front page, meanwhile, were reports on President Bush’s plans for the Justice Department, and Petraeus’s and Ryan Crocker’s arguments for ongoing U.S. involvement in Iraq; and, to show it was not all doom and gloom, a report from New York Fashion Week, complete with photo of Victoria Beckham. This story, despite a kicky header—“A Designer Gives a Spice Girl Some Lessons on What’s Sexy”—did not make the most–e-mailed list.
That Tuesday, Los Angeles Times e-mailers showed interest in a study that delineated differences in the brains of left- and right-wing people, and in a story about nuns in Santa Barbara who were about to lose their convent to pay debts incurred by a local church sex-abuse scandal. Among the most viewed stories was a Web-only report about how Vanessa Hudgens, star of the megahit High School Musical, and Disney were handling the revelation of a nude photo of the starlet, presumably a topic of great interest to TheTimes’ entertainment-business-heavy readership. The front page, meanwhile, covered Petraeus’s testimony before Congress, its implications for Bush’s Iraq policy, ongoing unrest in Pakistan, and the latest turn in the Clinton-Hsu fund-raising scandal, all of which more or less mimicked the other dailies, and news of which was available on virtually every Web portal. Over at The Washington Post, a trend piece on the rise of the “alpha geezer” (pushed onto page B3 of the print edition) made the e-mail rounds.