The ethics of who pays the bill for criticism

When a journalist reviews something, who should pick up the tab?

Old-school journalism ethics provide a simple answer: The journalist’s employer pays for the meal, hotel room, trip, admission or whatever expense the writer incurs in reporting his or her piece. By not accepting a “freebie,” the journalist can write about whatever he or she is reviewing without the appearance that he or she’s been comprised by not paying his or her own way.

But there’s a problem with that standard of journalism ethics.

The reviewer did not pay his or her own way. The employer did.

I thought about this last week, when I posted to my theme park website a review of a $400-a-night hotel. Those 400 bucks came out of my pocket. Since I am the owner and publisher of my website, there is no employer to whom I can submit that expense for reimbursement. (I can deduct the payment as a business expense for tax purposes, but so would an employer, too. And there’s a huge difference between getting a $400 reimbursement and being excused from paying income taxes on $400 that I still have to pay.)

When I write about theme parks in other parts of the country, I pay for airfare or gas to get there. I pay for the admission tickets, hotel rooms and my meals. Together, these expenses add up to thousands of dollars a year – all coming out of my bank account.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not complaining about the expense. Fortunately, my website generates enough advertising income that I can pay these expenses and have enough left over to provide myself a decent (though not spectacular) income. And I get to do something I love.

But when I pay those credit card bills at the end of the month, I feel that. Every time I sign a charge receipt, or open my wallet to pull out some cash, I know that’s my money going there. Sure, paying up is part of the cost of doing business as a publisher, but you still feel it, nevertheless.

That affects the way I write. A hotel might provide stunning architecture, fawning service and well-appointed rooms, but are all those benefits worth the expense? This isn’t just about the appearance of impropriety or favoritism. Basic human nature dictates that a writer’s gonna be more skeptical of something like a hotel room’s value when that writer is paying the equivalent of a month’s car payment to stay there, as opposed to when a company such as Disney or Universal picks up the tab instead.

This value equation affects what I choose to cover, too. If I question the value of something, and also don’t see the reader demand for information about it, I skip that venue and choose to cover something else, either a venue in high demand, or a hidden gem I feel might deliver value that the public overlooks. I wonder if I would be as careful with these decisions if someone else were paying the bill.

Full disclosure: There are occasions when I don’t pay to get into a venue. Theme parks often host press events when they premiere new attractions. These events are either not open to the public, or if they are, the public is allowed to see them only from the periphery. Being credentialed to these press events typically allows first access to new rides or shows, which is important if you’re trying to post a timely review.

But I still pay my way to the event, and pay my way into parks when I’m writing or photographing other rides, shows and restaurants. To me, the job of a critic is to place something within an appropriate context – comparing it with competing works, to past works, and finding other ways to connect the thing being reviewed with the experience of the reader’s everyday life. Part of that context is, and should be, the expense of experiencing the thing being reviewed.

Not everyone covering theme parks pays their own way. When I covered a major new attraction opening in Orlando last summer, almost every other website publisher I met there had either been flown to Orlando at the park’s expense, or was staying for free at one of the park’s hotels. I had refused the park’s offer of a free flight and hotel stay in favor of paying my own way.

I thought that put me in the company of the “professional” journalists, from the newspapers and TV stations also covering the event. But then I realized that none of them were paying out of their own pocket, either.

In the end, what’s the difference if the event host is picking up the tab, or your employer? In either case, you’re not paying the expense. So how can you say that you’re in the position of the consumer you’re trying to guide and advise?

Ultimately, I do believe that there is a difference between a host paying and an employer paying. At least when an employer is paying, one might feel more of an obligation to write for the employer’s needs than for the host’s. But even then, ultimately, you’re writing to please an editor who wasn’t at the event and isn’t paying out of his or her own pocket, either. While I believe that a better approach that taking freebies from a host, I don’t think it affords the opportunity for genuine connection with an audience that paying from one’s own pocket does.

Perhaps this, then, helps explain some of the popularity of reader-written review sites online. Not only do such services cover many more venues than traditional critics ever could hope to review, they are written by people who more often paid their own way. They’re beholden to no one, save themselves and other readers like them.

Sure, trolls and plants infect those sites, too, but I do believe that people want and appreciate the authenticity of criticism from people like themselves, who are trying to get value – entertainment, accommodation or even insight – for their money.

Imagine if sports pages were written by people who had to pay their own way into games. Would the cost of attending sporting events be left to one column a year, when someone releases a study on the topic, or would ticket, parking and concession prices become a bigger issue in press coverage of pro sports? (Of course, if newspapers and broadcast stations demanded that from their sportswriters, they might be so few of them left in the field that they’d be outnumbered by the athletes on a single NBA team.)

Obviously, not every writer, or even news organization, can afford to pay their own way to everything they’d like to cover. I know I can’t. I’d love to be on site at Tokyo Disneyland this month, covering that park’s reopening following the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. Yet after paying my quarterly income tax bill, my checking account is a bit light for that flight.

But what if Tokyo Disneyland, or some other foreign theme park, offered to pay my way for a visit? Would my readers prefer reading my report of a trip I didn’t pay for over reading no coverage at all? Maybe I can find a local to step up and write a report. But maybe I can’t. And even if I did, would that report be better than a report I could produce myself, if I were on the scene?

These are tough questions for publishers, trying to balance the books while creating original coverage that attracts and retains an audience. Moving from a newsroom to a publisher’s chair has made me realize that an ethical issue I once thought simple isn’t so simple any longer.

What to cut when ad revenue doesn't cover your expenses?

The toughest question facing news editors today is: What will you cut when your advertising revenue (or other income) isn’t providing enough money to cover your newsroom’s expenses?

Obviously, we’re all looking for new sources of revenue so that we don’t have to make a brutal decision like this. But in a competitive publishing market, many legacy news organizations simply are too big for what their market share now supports. What goes, then?

Over the past year, I’d heard several news editors point toward positions such as movie critics, arguing that some beats can be covered by user-generated content (such as reader-submitted movie reviews, in this case). While I’m a huge fan of reader participation on news websites, I’d like to suggest that this approach – swapping UGC coverage for staff reports – reflects the same wrong thinking that got so many newspapers into their current mess.

Let’s stick with the movie critic example, since I’ve heard it offered at three industry gatherings over the past year. The hypothetical goes… since a movie is the same in Tampa as Tacoma, why do you need a movie critic in every town? The old-school way to go cheap here would be to buy a syndicated film column. But now, publishers can go ever cheaper: install a relatively simple reader rating plug-in to their content management systems and let their local readers generate movie reviews.

Easy call, right?

Maybe not, otherwise I wouldn’t have a column here.

I’ve written before that consumer advice isn’t the same as criticism. The purpose of a critic is to place a new work within the context of previous works, as well as to find its context within its community. It’s to build, with an expert’s eye, a bridge between the reader and a creative work, one that the reader might not have seen by his or herself.

That some newspaper criticism fails to reach this level shouldn’t blind publishers to criticism’s potential. By showing readers fresh ways to look at and think about content, critics can help encourage readers to talk more about the movies, books, plays and music in their lives. It’s the critic who seeds and grows such user-generated content.

Any staff writer can do the same on his or her beat, as well, provided that he or she writes with an expert’s knowledge and an honest desire to make information more accessible for his or her readers.

Communities need leadership. I’ve been publishing UGC-driven websites since 1998, and every one needed staff writers to model and encourage reader comments. On those occasions when I cut back on staff content, the reader comments suffered, becoming less insightful, less engaging, and ultimately, more likely to degenerate into flame war.

Often, some readers step up and become community leaders (and even get hired as staff writers). But I’ve not yet found a model where UGC sustains an engaging and insightful website from the start, without a publisher starting the conversation with thoughtful content or comment.

So what can a cash-strapped publisher cut? Don’t base the decision on what is, or is not, produced in your community (such as movies). Base your decision on what interests that community – and on what topics your staff can cover with an expert’s authority. Don’t think about using online tools and techniques to replicate your existing staff structure or feature line-up. Blow up the publication and reorganize around what the community needs and wants – and that you can deliver.

If people in your community care more to talk about hiking than film, dump the movie critic and keep the outdoor columnist, instead. But don’t rely on UGC to handle the movie reviews. Dump the movie section entirely.

If you want to provide an alternative for those few readers who still care about movies, link out to a healthy online film criticism community instead. Even if your community includes many passionate film fans, if someone else has them covered with a strong online community, let publisher have that slice of the market and spend your money on some beat that isn’t as well covered. As media critic Jeff Jarvis has said, “do want you do best, and link to the rest.”

The news website of the future doesn’t use UGC and reader interactivity to keep providing coverage on hundreds of topics to everyone in the community. It focuses on the areas of expertise that it can afford to cover, then provides breadth by linking to other experts’ coverage, too. UGC isn’t the right tool to add breadth to a website; its better use is to provide depth to existing coverage on the site.

UGC doesn’t replace a staff voice. It amplifies voices into community conversations. As the math geek in me would like to take the opportunity to point out, anything multiplied by zero is still… zero.

From buy-out to boss: A case study in post-newspaper blogging

When I decided to accept a buyout from the Orlando Sentinel after 20 years as the senior restaurant critic, I had a particular path in mind moving forward. There were a couple of companies I thought would fall over themselves to hire me; there was the occasional magazine article I would write for $1/word paychecks; and I figured I would start a blog just to keep my eye on the beat and to have a constant creative outlet. And, I’d heard that if you place Google Ads on your blog, every time someone clicks on an ad on your site, Google sends you a few pennies. I thought if I could just make enough money from the blog to pay for the restaurant meals I would write about on it, I’d be happy.

None of the companies I applied to showed the least bit of interest in hiring me. And I found that while several local magazines wanted me to write for them, their pay-per-word rates made Google Ads look generous.

So I started focusing on the blog, or flog as I call it (food plus blog equals flog). The irony is that if I had started concentrating on the flog as soon as I left my position at the paper in July — or, better still, before that — it just might be making money by now. Enough to keep me in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed? Probably not. But I think it eventually can be a supplementary source of income. But it isn’t going to be easy, and it isn’t likely to be fast – much too late for that.

But learn from my mistakes. If blogging is something you’re thinking about doing when your number is called for downsizing at your publication – and if you don’t think that’s going to happen, would you please turn the lights off when you leave? – I have some suggestions to help you get started even before you claim your first unemployment check.

Anyone can blog. You can be up and blogging in a matter of minutes. Blogging platforms, such as Typepad and WordPress, offer a variety of templates to choose among, and various pricing structures as well, some even free. If you pay a premium (which is still fairly reasonable), most platforms allow you to customize your blog if you have coding skills or are willing to hire someone who does. But either way, once you’ve signed up for a service you simply type in a headline, write your post and click on “publish.” Your thoughts are instantly on the Internet for millions of people around the world to read. (Whether they will, and how to entice them to do so, is a topic for another time.)

This may be a no-brainer, but think about the topic you want to blog. Preferably it’s your current beat, one that you’ve been covering for a long time, a topic in which you have become known as a respected authority. What can you offer to the readers that they can’t get elsewhere? Don’t let competition dissuade you, but try to find the niche that isn’t being filled.

Consider how you can continue to cover your beat without the backing of your publisher. If travel was necessary, can you continue to do that on your own? What other expenses might you incur? In my case, I was reimbursed for all the dinners I wrote about (as well as for more than a few that I ate and decided were not ready or worthy of a review). Now I have to eat the expense as well as the meal. It’s a necessary investment that I hope will pay off eventually. And, besides, I’ve gotta eat. But God I miss that expense account!

Now think about the resources you use to cover your beat. Who are your contacts? Where do you get your press releases? Start making a list of these people. Are those names only in your workplace e-mail server? Find out how to make an electronic copy of that list and save it to a flash drive or e-mail it to a personal account. If your employer shows up at your desk tomorrow with a buyout package and an escort to the front door, I guarantee your laptop isn’t going with you. You’ll want to contact your sources to let them know where you are and where to keep sending press releases.

And what about the people who follow you, whether you’re a columnist or a reporter? Do you get e-mails from readers? Start saving them because you’re going to need them later. I was given the luxury of writing a farewell column to my readers. I knew my editors would never allow me to write, “You can continue to read my reviews at www.scottjosephorlando.com.” But I didn’t think they’d have a problem with my saying, “I’ll miss our weekly chats, and if you’d like to keep in touch, drop me a line at my personal e-mail address, [email protected].”

Everyone who wrote got dropped into a contact file, and from those addresses I compiled a bulk mailing list to announce the launch of my flog. I had 200 instant readers. I would have had more if I had thought about doing that six months before I left.

Two-hundred readers isn’t a lot, certainly not enough to attract advertisers. And if I want them to keep coming back, as well as draw in new readers, I have to constantly update and post. At the paper I had two weekly columns; now I try to post something at least once every weekday. In some ways a blog is more work, but it’s also somehow less stressful and more satisfying. Actually, it can be a lot of fun, especially when you scoop your former employer!

Blogging is not for everyone. You have to be self-motivated, and you have to be writer, editor, copy editor and, to a small degree, layout artist (those photos don’t get on the website by themselves). Take a look around at other blogs, make note of the things you like and the things you’d do differently. You can start by visiting my site, which uses a Typepad platform that has been tweaked by a website designer I hired.

Take a look, and while you’re there, would it kill you to click around for a while? Then drop a line and tell me what you think.