That's The Way It Wasn't

This past Sunday, Clark Hoyt, the public editor of the New York Times, wrote a column chronicling the "especially embarrassing correction" the Times had to make after publishing an appraisal of the late Walter Cronkite, the legendary CBS news anchor. The appraisal contained seven separate errors, which no doubt would have caused anguish to Mr. Cronkite, a person who built his career on precision and detail in his reporting.

The cause, Mr. Hoyt said, was inadequate editing of a piece written in haste by a "television critic with a history of errors." Errors can happen, even with a phalanx of editors who should catch them. People make mistakes. Throw in ever-present deadline pressures, poor communication and perhaps even recent newsroom cutbacks throughout the country and the error potential rises dramatically. The Times and the critic, Alessandra Stanley, both acknowledged responsibility for the shortcomings.

Two things trouble me about the incident. The first is that a number of editors (as Mr. Hoyt explains it) either missed the errors or in some instances compounded them. Once again, deadlines were partially blamed, but this type of piece should have been written, fact-checked and edited well before Mr. Cronkite's death. That it was not points to poor news management, which to me ranks equally in dishonor with the errors themselves.

What also bothers me is the seeming disconnect in Mr. Hoyt's description of Ms. Stanley. He initially notes her "history of errors," pointing out that she made so many errors in 2005 that the Times assigned her a single copy editor to check her facts. Then, a few paragraphs later, he says that she is "a prolific writer much admired by editors for the intellectual heft of her coverage of television." No disrespect intended to Ms. Stanley, but I have a difficult time reconciling "intellectual heft" with "history of errors," particularly for a journalist. That's like saying "I admire Dr. Stephen Hawking's intellectual heft in physics, but we have to keep telling him that two plus two is four, not five."

The Times has added an editor in the obituary department and Ms. Stanley is once again assigned special editing help. That's the way it is with journalism in the 21st century.

Note: I have edited and fact-checked the above piece. I hope it is error-free.

The Audacity of Nope

Yesterday's New York Times carried a story on what it termed one of "the audacious proposals" in President Obama's budget – a plan to cut farm subsidies that would save nearly $10 billion over a decade. Unfortunately, the plan set off "a huge alarm in the powerful farm lobby." Among those clanging the loudest "No!" were Mr. Obama's fellow Democrats in farm states, such as Sen. Kent Conrad of North Dakota and Rep. John M. Spratt, Jr. of South Carolina.

Mr. Obama's vision of new politics, outlined in The Audacity of Hope, has once again collided with the realities of old politics, where vested interests plow under efforts to weed out government spending programs that most people agree have outgrown the fences. There are certainly elements of merit in Mr. Obama's plan, but even farm subsidy critics agree this was an overreach.

The Times article further noted that in this Congress "farm subsidy limits never got off the ground." I'd prefer another description: the farm lobby planted them so deeply they'll never see the sunlight needed for them to sprout. It just goes to show that everybody wants reform, but don't touch their sacred cow. Or corn. Or beans. Or wheat. Or whatever. It's a variation of NIMBY – everyone says we need more drug treatment facilities, or homeless shelters or power grids – just Not In My Backyard. There will be more such collisions. When it comes to budget reform, everyone agrees, sacrifices are critical, but NAME – Not At My Expense.

Full disclosure: my mother's cousins and the family of an ad industry friend both run dairy farms.

A Death in the Family

There's a lot being written this week about the impending death of the printed newspaper. While some of the gloomiest predictions might be premature, the patient is gravely ill.

Daily newspapers, once vital strands in the fabric of American family and community life, have been unraveling, a decline accelerated in the past year by a withered economy.

I'm a journalism graduate and spent a brief time as a reporter for an Eastern Pennsylvania daily before going into advertising and public relations. My late father was a typesetter (the old "hot metal" type) for several papers, including the Stars and Stripes in World War II. So I confess a sentimental attachment to the institution of a daily newspaper. But the Norman Rockwell-styled image of someone sitting down with a newspaper is as faded and yellowed as old newsprint.

What's brought daily newspapers to the brink of oblivion? Some may point to short-sighted management, inflexible labor or other escalating costs of production and distribution (sounds like the auto industry). The biggest factor? The world just changed, and that's been going on a long time.

Even before the rise of the Internet, newspapers were declining. People no longer had the time to spend with their daily companion. First radio (which began its news operations by reading stories from the printed paper) and then television compressed news into ever-shrinking segments. News became just a few morsels the busy person could nibble on while buzzing from task to task. Whatever evening dailies were left by the 1970s quickly became morning papers or folded altogether -- reflecting long commutes, the two-parent workforce and other trends.

Then came the digital revolution.

With even more to do and less time to get it done, people turned to the Internet for news. Historically, a newspaper replenished its circulation base as younger persons entered the marketplace. No longer. In my Advertising Copywriting class, I have 18 bright folks who represent tomorrow's leaders. Of the group, I think there are two who read a printed newspaper with any trace of regularity. I'm surprised it's that many.

Newspapers tried to adapt their printed product to the digital age, with less-than-stunning success. Many of them looked uninviting at best. As communications strategist David Henderson observed earlier this year, the Washington Post online "has not changed much in appearance in the last five or six years," further noting that the Post online "cannot figure out what it wants to be." The New York Times experimented with a concept called "Times Select," where they made their news available free but charged for certain content, such as columnists. They eventually scrapped Times Select.

Advertising revenue, the printed paper's lifeblood, has been hard to capture online. Even when the paper rounds up a set of regular advertisers for on-page advertising, people using the Firefox browser teamed with the AdBlock add-on don't see a single ad. The Wall Street Journal operates online via subscription, but there have been discussions on opening up more of its content since its acquisition by News Corp. People expect things on the Internet to be free and a successful online business model for newspapers -- and many other traditional businesses -- has been elusive.

Even an old newspaper fan like me has largely left the ranks of daily print newspaper readers. A quick flip-through is all I can spare for the local paper, with a pause at the obituaries -- a sure sign of aging. Then it's online whenever I have a few moments; although I may do it in little bursts, I may consume more news than before. With the Internet, I can scan the Telegraph from London, sample Haaretz from Jerusalem, listen to the BBC and even catch a story on Al-Jazeera.

So where do printed newspapers go from here? In a video-driven, 24/7 news cycle world, even the most incisive reporting in a printed paper is old by the time it reaches its readers. What's in the paper that you can't find online? Forget national or international news. Pictures? Too static; watch the video online. Help Wanted and other classifieds? Nope. Event calendars? Plenty of Internet sites for those, even at the local level. You can even look up obituaries online. The one exception might be some types of local news -- if you haven't already caught it on your mobile phone or that 20th century relic, television.

It may be time for print newspapers to go; but there's always sorrow for a death in the family.

Lying Down on the Job

I know I'm a lonely voice when it comes to pointing out incorrect word usage in the media, and most people probably find it tiring. I intend to continue. Proper use of the English language is rapidly becoming a "who cares" issue, but I will soldier on. The latest example comes from the halls of power in Washington, D.C., namely the Office of the White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs. When asked to comment on the controversy surrounding Illinois Senator Roland Burris, Gibbs replied, in part, that Senator Burris should "take some time this weekend to either correct what has been said and certainly think of what lays in his future." (Quoted from the official White House transcript of the February 20, 2009 Press Briefing; emphasis mine.)

If Mr. Gibbs – generally acknowledged as a skilled professional – wasn't lying down on the job on this one, he'd know that he should have said "what lies in his future." Perhaps the news organizations that quoted him, including the Los Angeles Times and the Baltimore Sun, might have used the (sic) convention to denote that they weren't responsible for the mistake. (I won't mention that, in addition, Gibbs should have not used "either" with "and" in that phrase – proper usage would have been "both." Oops, I mentioned it.)

President Obama is greatly concerned about education; maybe he should start with his own Press Secretary's office.

C'mon, Admit It. It's Wrong.

Here's another follow-up to my observations last week on the dying art of copy editing in online media. In a column yesterday in USA Today entitled "Will Christians lose 'clout' in the Obama years?", writer Cathy Lynn Grossman observed, "That was the ChristianityToday.com online quick question poll yesterday. Such Internet polls are unscientific, but, common on, admit it, they're fun." (Emphasis mine.)

Much as I'd like to "common on," it's another case of sloppy editing that relied on a spell checker program's substitution because it didn't recognize the colloquialism "c'mon." Doesn't anyone read the final copy before posting? I suppose not -- or worse, someone read it and found nothing wrong.

I emailed Reader Editor Brent Jones, listed as the contact to report "corrections and clarifications." So far, no response from Mr. Jones. C'mon, Brent, admit it; it's wrong.

Unruly Tenants

Here's a quick follow up to my post of yesterday about incorrect word usage. In an email yesterday to supporters, Family Research Council President Tony Perkins said, "On the campaign trail, Obama insisted that groups who seek government grants couldn't disqualify an applicant for a social service role if their beliefs are incompatible with the organization's tenants" (emphasis mine). The message might resonate a bit more if he said "tenets," which Merriam-Webster says is "a principle, belief, or doctrine generally held to be true; especially: one held in common by members of an organization, movement, or profession."

Then again, maybe he didn't want to take the chance on getting "principle" right. As Casey Stengel once said, referring to the 1962 New York Mets, the ultimate sports metaphor for futility until this season's Detroit Lions, "Doesn't anybody here know how to play this game?"

Casey, you may be right.

Update: In reviewing today's news, I came across a MediaPost Online Media Daily story headlined "Brick-And-Mortar Retailers Loosing Search Battle." I guess they're implying that traditional retailers aren't tight with their customers, rather than losing ground by not paying attention to search marketing.

A Well-Healed Press Core Principal

I know correct spelling and usage is a long-lost art, but it's getting out of hand.

Last week, I read a post on MediaPost’s Raw blog on trends in social media that concluded with the observation that “all media is becoming social, which seems to demonstrate the threat and opportunity to well healed media firms.” I’m hoping those media firms aren’t too sick to realize that it should be “well-heeled,” as in prosperous.

Today, I came across an item on the Public Relations Society of America (PRSA) web site on the ethics of Twitter usage. I was only too happy to learn that when certain White House reporters tweet during briefings, the result can be that “…by the time the rest of the members of the press core file their stories, the news is already dated.” Perhaps the core of the White House press corps might want to know that. I hereby request that a larger portion of my PRSA dues be devoted to more careful web editing.

At the top of my list, however, is the evaluation copy of the Thomson/Wadsworth textbook “Creative Strategy in Advertising,” 9th edition I received last year. The back cover blurb began “Focusing on the fundamental principal that good advertising always starts with an understanding of people…” My evaluation would be that a fundamental principle of good textbook writing is proper usage and the editors should be sent to the principal. And we expect our students to get it right?

I know, I know. It’s a world of spontaneous communication, powered by tweets and status updates. (Forget emails; that’s so 20th Century.) There’s no time to be right; just blurt it out. I may be disorganized (just ask my wife), but I still think there’s some value in getting your words right.

Back to work; I’m not well-heeled enough to ignore the principle that he who does not work does not eat. Just ask the press corps.

P.S. To their credit, the web editors at PRSA corrected the “press core” reference within minutes of my comment. Hats off!

Redomesticated?

Last week, I received a notice from a life insurance company. I’ve had a small policy with them since I was 18, purchased by my mother.

“Dear Policyholder,” it said, “we are pleased to share some new information concerning our company. [Our company] has been redomesticated from Illinois to Iowa.” It also advised me that an Endorsement was also enclosed detailing this “new” information. (Actually, the endorsement was on the back of the letter and the information was effective September 27 of last year, so calling it “new” is already a problem for me.)

Now what did that mean, I wondered? It sounded like a dog that had been a house pet and then had gone wild for a time and now was being “redomesticated” as a pet. No wonder they sent additional paper along with the notice – domesticating can be a messy business.

It turns out the company had moved its principal office from Chicago to Iowa, presumably to take advantage of some corporate tax or rate structure not available in Illinois. They hastened to add that their facility in Chicago would remain; it would now be the “Executive Office.”

Wouldn’t it have been simpler – and more understandable to the average consumer – to say, “We’ve moved our principal office to Iowa?” Or we’ve relocated? It almost sounds like they’re ashamed of the move. I’ve never been to Iowa, but from all I’ve read, it’s a nice place with lots of good, honest people. No need to hide anything.

Corporations move headquarters and other units like credit card and payment processing offices all the time, whenever less operating expenses resulting from lower labor, energy or tax costs can benefit their bottom line. Sometimes it was done to skirt existing regulations in seeking new markets. In Pennsylvania in the 1970s, the state had a law that said a bank could only open new offices in counties that were immediately adjacent to the county that contained its headquarters. Banks played musical offices in a valiant attempt to place their ”headquarters” – usually just a post office box or one-room office – where they could border the counties with the highest growth rates. But I don’t think they called it “redomesticating.” Those were simpler times, you know.

Recalling one of the biggest moves of that era, Citibank decided to relocate its credit card operation from New York to South Dakota – to take advantage of that state’s favorable interest rate laws. Can you imagine the head of the credit card operation being called into the CEO’s office and being told, “Congratulations, you’re getting new offices. They’re in South Dakota.” Now that’s redomestication!

P.S. My know-it-all spell checker in Microsoft Word 2003 has never heard of “redomesticated” or any of its allied forms. Maybe I should have written this entry on my other computer that has Word 2007. Then again…

Cut It Out!

I’m teaching a class in public relations writing this semester. As I’ve found with most college students, the one thing usually common to their writing is that it’s cluttered.

I’ve tried several methods to get them to pare their verbiage. I’ve pointed out examples in their writing as to how they can use fewer words and actually strengthen their sentences.

I’ve quoted from such noted writing teachers as Williams Zinnser and Roy Peter Clark, showing them how to keep the word count down. As Zinnser notes, don’t say “At the present time, we are experiencing precipitation” when you mean “it’s raining.”

I even recalled a college journalism professor of mine (a sportswriter, no less), who advised us one day that one of the most expressive sentences ever written was also one of the shortest: “Jesus wept.” (John 13:31).

The other day, I tried another tack. “You all text message your friends,” I said. “You don’t waste words there, do you?” They all agreed that needless words had no place in that medium. So I asked them to write with a text-message perspective – make every word count. If a word’s not pulling its weight, cut it out. You’ll be surprised how much excess you can trim, I said.

I think they may be getting the message. One thing I did not ask them to do was to fill their papers with text or instant messaging acronyms and emoticons. Those are already everywhere in abundance – with billions of BTWs, LOLs and ROTFLs traversing the spectrum daily. In fact, I suppose, those acronyms may someday become standard language. It could be coming, but if it does, I hope I’m LB&P – long boxed and planted.

This Is Not A Bill

Of all the paperwork I hate – and I find it all insufferable – I detest medical paperwork most of all. It arrives in that dreaded plain white envelope; inside a document with the legend prominently displayed: THIS IS NOT A BILL. After unfurling the treatise from its womb, I am confronted with a thicket of unintelligible jargon known as the “Explanation of Benefits.” It’s never terribly clear. Once I had some periodontal work done and it was classified as “osseous surgery.” Who knew? With that language it could have been the removal of an appendix – or some other vital, rather than vestigial, appendage. God forbid.

Other than the jargon, it’s filled with footnotes and disclaimers relating to who covered what and how much, whether the provider is a participating provider, how much of your deductible you’ve met and so on and on and on.

A 2004 news release issued by the Physicians for a National Health Program cited a study by Harvard Medical School and Public Citizen that found “health care bureaucracy [in 2003] cost the United States $399.4 billion.” (Emphasis added.) For paperwork? As the late U.S. Senator Everett Dirksen supposedly said, “A billion here, a billion there, soon you’re talking real money.”

This isn’t an argument for any particular health care reform. That’s better debated in a much more comprehensive and knowledgeable arena than this blog. There are so many players in the debate, each with his scalpel to grind. I can only hope that whatever reform comes about makes a sizable incision in that $400 billion in bureaucracy costs.

The National Center for Policy Analysis reports on its website that “some three million clerks and managers are employed in the health-care industry – nearly four times the number of doctors now practicing.” Just handling the claims alone, the center says, costs $13 billion. Now those are some telling numbers – could it be part of the reason why there’s some 45 million+ uninsured Americans?

Maybe all that money is for handling those forms you seem to always be filling out – sometimes each and every time you visit the same doctor for the same condition. Maybe it’s all the reports doctors and other professionals have to fill out. Maybe it’s some other paperwork demon.

But surely those THIS IS NOT A BILL printouts are the chief culprit. Why do we need a separate one in most cases for each and every procedure – even those done on the same day? How about a monthly recap, something like a bank statement? Can you imagine a bank sending you a statement every time you wrote a check or made a deposit?

I’m seriously considering a small protest against this excess of paperwork that’s costing us so much time, money and trees. The next time my health insurance premium is due, I think I’ll send a small piece of paper with the invoice that says, “THIS IS NOT A CHECK.” It would save them a small amount of processing time.

I would think that my insurance company would not be amused by my creativity. But, hell, I’ll feel good – and isn’t that what health care is supposed to be all about?