Paper Losses
It took me a while to make the connection. After several instances of being irritated because I couldn’t find a rubber band anywhere, I realized that it was the most significant effect of our cancelling home delivery of the Seattle Times last fall. We would always carefully remove them from the rolled-up paper and deposit them in the junk drawer in our kitchen. This particular act of frugality began in the 70s when we took the Seattle P-I, and continued when we reluctantly switched to the Times with the demise of the P-I. I don’t believe I’ve ever bought rubber bands, and now I’m confronted starkly with the necessity.
I’ve been reading the Times and P-I online exclusively for several years, a circumstance which was probably abetted by my periodic business travels, and seldom handled the dead-tree version even when I was home.
We continued with the Times even after it forced the P-I out of their JOA agreement primarily because my MIL, who was living with us at the time, spent a lot of her morning reading it. Also, Mrs. Perils preferred the paper version. And I admit that reading a newspaper online is not the same experience. It has its advantages: compact, available anywhere, searchable, RSS feeds, free; the major disadvantage is that its visual geography seems more limited. The “paper” paper has things in the same places every day, available at a glance rather than a click-and-wait. Two examples that come immediately to mind are sports statistics and comics. Even though the paper comics have shrunk as my eyes need them bigger, you could still rake your eyes over the page and snag on your favorites fairly quickly; online, you have to click a drop-down menu, select, wait, expand, read, rinse, repeat for every individual comic. I just don’t bother any more. And, I have no idea what the baseball standings are, or who is still left in the NBA playoffs.
There are moments when I’m reading online when I feel a little guilty about hastening the unemployment of the earnest ink-stained wretches still toiling away within print journalism’s august perimeter. I had a pang as well one day when some carriers were going door-to-door pretty much pleading with me to re-subscribe. I’m not sure what economic model could successfully replace home delivery. I’ve paid for online subscriptions before (WSJ), and would be open to paying a single fee to read newspapers online, sort of how AOL experimented with corralling content under a single portal in the 90s. I’d be disappointed in, and would probably resist, having to subscribe to every paper I lit on in pursuit of news.
I also perceive a danger in the dismantling of the journalistic institution. While we are flooded with a euphoric torrent of information, we as its wary consumer now need to do our own fact-checking, without the professional training to get it right. On the other hand, we aren’t, as in prior times, being spoon-fed information by what is essentially an embedded member of the local oligarchy reluctant to step on the toes of its advertisers. And then I’ll read one of the Times’ tortured anti-tax, anti-union editorials and I’ll think, nah, I can buy my own rubber bands.
I think the only reason we still get the paper version of the L.A. Times is that I can instantly find the local sports TV listings on page 2 of the sports section. The info is available online, but its easier/faster to grab the paper off the kitchen table.
I paid to read the NYT online and on my phone. Handy when I’m waiting somewhere or stuck someplace dull. I also paid the flat fee 2.99 for the L.A. Times app. But it sucks.
Our paper comes either in a plastic bag or tied with a plastic tie. I can’t remember the last time they used rubber bands.
The Times subscription service coerced me into taking 8 weeks of home delivery free and it took less than a week to rememember why we gave up the dead tree version. I’m a compulsive reader–if my eyes light on something I have to read it. Even comics that I loathe. Even the smug ponderings of Ryan Blethen, the chronic whining of Danny Westneat, and gah, Nicole Brodeur.
I’m taking home delivery of the NY Times now. It takes me all week to get through it.
That’d be the Sunday NY Times.
Kathy - we get onto the NYT site because we subscribe to the Book Review via snail mail.
Molly - I’ve learned, as a defensive measure, to be selective. Not because I’m such a good time manager (I’m horrible) - I read so slowly that I have to pick my battles carefully. A Sunday paper is a sensual luxury in theory; in practice, however, I’m usually hustling out the door, even at my advanced age, for some physical activity. I like the WSJ (off the editorial page) a lot, but I too often would see 4 or 5 unopened slugs sitting on the floor at the end of the week when I took the paper version. Probably because I’m a night owl, and wake up just in the nick of time to get out the door to work, and have no time to read a paper in the morning.
I cancelled our paper for awhile, since I look at it online every morning first thing. But my husband felt a little mournful about it, even though he rarely reads it, so I’ve resubscribed. It’s still nice to walk down to the gate and get “the paper” even though it feels like an exercise in nostalgia. On the other hand, we took advantage of a special 6 month offer from WSJ for both print and online. Love the idea, love the weekend edition, but yesterday I called and cancelled the print. Just too much paper sitting around stacking up. You raised some thoughtful questions — wish I had cogent answers.
We gave up print newspapers when we moved to Port Townsend in 2004. Before that we had the San Francisco Chronicle delivered daily. When my mom was here for five weeks, she really missed her LA Times. We couldn’t find that here at any of our local newsstands, so we got her a Chronicle or Sac Bee whenever we went to the market. Roger loved picking up the paper again, doing the crossword puzzles, reading the letters to the editors. I didn’t even glance at the headlines. Not sure why. I want newspapers to stay in business. I want real journalists to write real journalism. I’m just not sure anymore if there is a viable business model for such an enterprise. I would be absolutely willing to pay a fee to read content online, if it could be smartly bundled.
I understand and accept the rationale for letting traditional newspapers die. It’s mostly sentimentality that keeps them alive, that plus the sensory appeal of paper and ink on fingers and the crinkle of easily-manipulated newsprint. My intellectual understanding of the illegitimacy of the traditional newspaper model makes it no less heartbreaking to see it crumble. Maybe my geezerliness is getting to me. Probably is. But I have a love affair with words on paper, much more so than I do with words on a screen or monitor. An artist’s
Yes, Phil, you’re totally to blame for the fact that I rejected the job offer I received to work in the “creative services” (ads) department at my local newspaper. If it weren’t for you, perhaps the pay would have been more than that which would’ve made my savings go backwards…
I hope that not all print media dies out (I love real books!), but I’m not feeling *too* fussed about the shift of news from paper to online. More immediate, anyway!
For the last few years I’ve been getting my daily comics fix via email. I get Doonesbury, I get the comics in color, I get just the ones I want. It’s a great deal.
The price has gone up from $10/yr to $12/yr and it’s worth every penny.
http://www.gocomics.com/help/pro