The return of The Meeja

You may not have noticed we were gone. You probably never noticed we were here. However, we are back and we want people to know about it.

Why the return? Because it seems like an interesting time, with newspapers in disarray and the surge of new media outlets now surely unstoppable.

The Scottish independence referendum is over but the effect on the media climate has been profound.

The media are in flux – uncomfortable for those on the inside; rather interesting for the watchers.

At least we hope so. We'll do our best.

Taoiseach resignation blow to Scottish independence – go figure

Having apparently feared that “one too many and they’ll turn” Bertie Ahern is to resign. The Irish PM has indicated that various scandal investigations – from which he insists he has nothing to hide – threaten to undermine the office of Taoiseach. So much for the bare facts on a story that will not have eluded those with a passing interest in British and Irish politics.

The connection between Ahern’s fate and Scotland’s independence prospects appear to be tenuous but The Herald earns top marks for trying. In today’s (Thursday) leader, the paper warns:

“This has a resonance for Scotland, Britain and the European Union.
“Alex Salmond, the First Minister, has made much of Ireland's economic miracle, arguing it is a success story that could be emulated by Scotland if independent. The narrative looks less convincing, with potentially damaging consequences for the SNP, given Ireland's economic problems. The challenge now for Dublin's coalition government is to manage a transition from high to low growth. Ministers warn of tougher times ahead. If the Celtic Tiger has been tamed, it will hold less appeal for Mr Salmond and be less persuasive for Scots in the run-up to a possible referendum on independence.”

Now, it is of course unfair to blame Alf Young for claptrap such as this when editorials are invariably printed without a byline. Nevertheless, the work does seem to bear his thumbprint to an extent that even Shirley McKie would be unlikely to challenge.

This is not a new theme to The Herald leader comment. On 14 February, the paper posited:

“It can be argued that Dublin has become, in many ways, Ireland's London. An EU report, published earlier this week, on wealth disparities in different parts of Europe, highlighted the discrepancies and inequalities in Ireland between thriving and poorer areas. There is a bigger question to address in the context of the so-called Irish miracle. Is the Celtic tiger running out of energy? If so, it would challenge many of Mr Salmond's assumptions and could, potentially, undermine the case for independence.”

Just a few days earlier (8 February) Young was identified as the author of the following with what should by now be a familiar theme:

“Let me offer one example from the Salmond government's own hand.

“It has just published a discussion paper on tackling poverty, inequality and deprivation in Scotland. In it, the SNP government proposes a cohesion golden rule which seeks more balanced growth across Scotland to give all Scots "the chance to succeed". But research it has commissioned shows just how hard it might be to deliver on that. Between 1995 and 2005, according to findings on page 17, Scottish GDP increased by, on average, 2.5% a year. Over the same period, annual growth in two of Alex Salmond's arc of prosperity countries, Ireland and Finland, averaged 7.5% and 3.5% respectively.

“Should we assume that higher growth then led to greater fairness? Not a bit of it. Between 1995 and 2005, despite that stratospheric growth, the percentage of people in poverty in Ireland rose from 19% to 20%…”

“But [the SNP government] has staked substantial political capital [its first] Budget delivering some transformational changes in Scotland's economy and in the kind of country Scotland is. If it fails to deliver, it will have no-one but itself to blame”.

The Herald, perhaps precipitously, last year celebrated 300 years of the union with the assertion that partnership with England had generally served Scotland’s interests well, warning of the uncertain perils of separation. In the aftermath of the Holyrood elections, and perhaps having underestimated the strength of support for independence amongst Herald readers, the pro-unionist line has generally been less explicit of late while still prompting invective in response.

The Herald may, of course, take any position it pleases but scare-mongering on the basis of an Irish politician’s domestic problems (and perhaps hinting at old prejudices) will do nothing for the title’s credibility on this issue of such profound importance to Scotland's people.

Red top red faced over Jock Stein slur

Sports journalists are a breed apart. This is a rule, and therefore with exceptions but, by definition, too few to undermine the inherent truth of the statement.

That much has long been understood by anyone who has ever worked at a moderately sized title, mixed with a few hacks or even read the back pages as well as the front.

They have their own style guides – happily contradicting the edicts applying to other desks; their own understanding of the profile of their readership and how it is best served and, more importantly, their own set of standards and values.

The logic behind the latter factor is that, frankly, sport doesn’t matter. As long as it entertains and doesn’t leave the title liable to any risk, pretty much anything can be written within the general parameters of the tabloid or broadsheet “brand”.

Unfounded speculation that a senior politician or captain of industry plans to defect? Unthinkable. Mischievous rumours that a star player or manager will be grazing pastures new next season? Harmless fun.

Broadsheets (yes, let’s abuse that term before it becomes obsolete) will indulge less in the fiction than their diminutive rivals but often compensate with the use of contrived opinion and verbosity.

But there is another reason for the distinction between the sports desks and the proper journalists – the calibre of men (and few women) themselves.

Even on a quality title, the hack foolish enough to converse too frequently on anything more philosophical than Andy Murray’s mood swings will be branded a prima donna or a "poof" before too long. And that too often attracts those whose values and rationale are informed by the loudest voices on the football terraces.

Generally required to do nothing more than “slag the other side” to disguise their partisanship, hacks spend much of their day idly winding up sports fans and gleefully reading the irate letters in response. However, these happy few who rarely have the responsibility of dealing with sensitive matters occasionally allow malicious chuckles to drown out the quiet voices of reason, decency and common sense.

This week, that charge is rightly levelled at the Daily Record. For the benefit of the innocents – who won’t be thankful for the background information – an appalling campaign has in recent times been directed at the former Celtic and Scotland manager Jock Stein. Primarily heard from Rangers fans, though infamously also christening Linlithgow Rose’s entry to the Scottish Cup, the chants of “Big Jock Knew” have been used to attempt to implicate Jock Stein in the Celtic Boys Club abuse scandal of decades ago. That the jibe is as relevant, tasteful and accurate as holding Winston Churchill accountable for the Holocaust is neither here nor there. It has been happening, almost all of Scottish football knows it, and very few writers have bothered to mention it.

But the Daily Record managed to go beyond dereliction of duty this week, attaching a “Big Jock Crew” kicker to a photo in the paper this week while feigning ignorance of its error. Subsequently confronted with outrage, Sports Editor Jim Traynor has acknowledged the mistake and the paper issued a printed apology while at the same time certain figures tried to deflect from the seriousness of the issue with implausible excuses issued through “contacts”.

This time, though, they have clearly gone too far and riled Celtic into action on this “poisonous, repugnant, despicable and cowardly campaign”. The club statement went on: “With regard to the newspaper involved, the club has discussed this issue with their senior management, who have assured us that they are regretful as to what has happened and that they will be taking action.”

And the management assurances are likely to be credible. At a time when every print title is under intense pressure with regard to circulation and advertising, major potential economic partners have unprecedented leverage against the media.

Traynor has borne the brunt of the fans’ criticism having done what he had to do in taking responsibility for the mistake while defending his desk. There are worse crimes than that.

But he is no fool – he knows that his reputation is tarnished by such output from unnamed staff (or non-regular casuals as one report claimed). As a writer formerly of some standing and a very smart individual, Traynor is known to sometimes despair of the quality of professionals entering sports journalism. When such cheap shots as these “three little words” appear, however, we must all wonder at the motivations of person responsible.

Trust, ethics and the Scottish Licensed Trade News

Never trust a journalist.

We’ve all heard it – it is a maxim that rankles with many and some expend great energy convincing people it is unfair. There are two main ways of doing that – lying through your teeth or trying to adhere to the highest standards of “journalistic ethics”, whatever they are.

Sadly, not every journalist cares. Take, for example, the reporter from the Scottish Licensed Trade News, one of Scotland’s most influential trade papers. Now some say that journalism and PR are a bad mix – one tries to get to the heart of the story and expose the truth; the other tries to deflect from the story with any amount of diversionary fluff.

That is simplistic and unfair, of course: the reality is a tale of shades of grey.

But when a journo in a trade title has a background in PR, perhaps you better watch out. At least, that is the moral of the story of one young man who had an off-guarded moment with a woman who phoned him at work. She was chatty, a bit unusual and asked if he would mind if she asked him a few questions. He was affable, trusting, tired, indulgent of people and naïve.

So after easing in with questions about a particular football match day and how things were in the area – the atmosphere, any trouble, whether people enjoyed the day, if it was fun to work, etc., he was “softened up” by the time it came to ask two more sinister questions.

“Was business quite good?”
“Yeah, we had a good day.”
“Can I ask how much you made, for example?”

In black and white, it is obvious that the only correct answer to that is click-brrrrrrrr. But, we’ve all been there in one sense or another – taken in, deceived, conned.

Any of us who have made similar mistakes would hope that the damage would be minimal. We would certainly hope that we weren’t talking to a journalist that hadn’t identified herself as such. If she was, we might hope that she would just use the information so carelessly given and dishonestly gleaned as simple background, rather than publishing every detail including precise figures. And, if ever there was a time for a journalist to protect her sources, rather than naming the individual in the trade paper, that would seem to be it.

However, these sentiments are apparently far from the mind of the kid-on hacks at SLTN. And the outcome? One young man who had spent five years with the company, working his way up to the position of assistant bar manager lost his job.

SLTN, part of the Peebles Media group, has had a reputation in recent years for being willing to smudge the line between editorial and advertorial depending on the importance of the client. Allegations that senior figures at the group have offered key advertisers the option of writing their own copy, which would be printed without identification as adverts, have persisted almost since the former editor Pat Duffy moved on from his role of direct responsibility for the title. It is understood that Duffy would not countenance such activity.

On one level or another, that type of things happens in many better-known titles. But when staff are obtaining information by deception at the cost of people’s jobs, it brings shame on the title and makes that proposition of trust ever harder to justify.

Herald online sweat over “wee contempt of court issue”

Barely had this nascent blog stopped fiddling with its umbilical before a “regular” reader was discovered asking why there was no comment on The Herald’s story blaming the SNP budget for Glasgow City Council’s decision to make 425 people redundant.

“How can any national paper get away with saying that the Labour Council decision to make their announcement of axing jobs post-budget was ‘to help meet the national target of freezing council tax’? This is party-political propaganda at its worst.”

Maybe so. Or could it just possibly be a favourable spin due to longstanding and continuing links between the council and former Evening Times senior management who have now migrated to the mother ship of the group? As one established news reporter once privately remarked: “People wouldn’t believe it if you told them. It was as if an awkward silence over the dinner table was more important than real news on what the council was doing.”

But accusations of political bias are likely to be very low on the agenda this week after a supreme gaffe by the staff of the Herald website.

Apparently oblivious to such technical terms as sub judice and contempt of court, the Saturday edition managed to give prominence to two news stories involving upcoming court cases without having the foresight to restrict or moderate comments.

One story published on Friday night involved a police constable charged with assault while the other made reference to a certain former politician who has recently been charged with perjury (unsurprisingly the most popular story of the weekend).

An early call on Saturday morning saw the comments on both removed (without the usual explanation of being “due to abuse”) but not before more than 100 comments had been published, many of which would certainly be seen to be potentially prejudicial to the outcome of the trials.

As our correspondent, who had the remarkable foresight to copy the pages remarked: “They think they got away with it – but they haven’t.”

Might as well just vacuum under the carpets next time too.

Note: Comments on this post have been suspended for reasons that should be clear to (almost) everyone. Feel free to send an email to themeeja@gmail.com.

Brillo: Scots titles will be scrubbed

Is the Scottish press in terminal decline? Certainly, the sales figures indicate a bleak future for the country’s newspaper industry. The latest ABC data shows, unsurprisingly enough, a continuation of the downward trend that has thrown the industry into crisis and editors into despair.

However, just as a reminder that it can always get worse and usually does Andrew Neil popped up in The Guardian this week with words of cold comfort for The Scotsman and Herald’s respective editors, Mike Gilson and Charles McGhee,.

With sales at The Scotsman having dropped by 8% while The Herald suffered a 6% fall based on the corresponding figures last year, Neil, a Thatcherite unionist and former Scotsman executive editor, mused:

On current trends, if Scotland ever did divorce from the UK, it could end up the only independent country in the world without vibrant independent newspapers of its own; its citizens preferring instead the tartan editions of the newspapers of another country.

None of this would be a problem, of course, had Neil’s grand plan for the future of Scotland’s two major quality titles been implemented – merger.

The titles would remain distinctive but the back-office functions would join up, giving us the scale and resources to take on the English invaders.

It can be difficult to know what to make of such pronouncements from Neil, who if nothing else has made his mark on Britain’s newspaper and television industries. He has intelligence and talent in spades, integrity by the spoonful and enough personal charm to fill a tilted thimble.

As ever, managing the media presentation of his own professional exploits, he omits to mention that “pooling resources” was an admission of his failure to shore up sales at The Scotsman, a defeat signalled by his assertion that Glaswegians ought to buy The Herald while people in Edinburgh should remain loyal to his paper.

The Scottish political establishment was universally opposed - and behind the scenes Gordon Brown made it clear that SMG (then owners of the Herald, and looking for a quick sale) was on no account to sell to the Barclays. In doing so, he probably condemned the Scottish newspaper industry to extinction.

He skims over the fact that his plan would inevitably have meant a blunt knife being taken to staffing and a once-great Herald brand being reduced to the Glasgow edition of the right-wing Scotsman, a prospect that horrified staff, unions and readers alike. In effect, The Herald was to pay the price for his failure.

It is not clear then whether his assessment of the current state of affairs is a call for action, historical revisionism or merely gloating at the expectation that the titles will surely get what’s coming to ‘em.

However, Neil does flag up the prospect of a seemingly inescapable scenario in which his prophecy of doom is destined to be fulfilled.

The Herald full-rate sales for the period 31 December 2007 to 27 Jan 2008 averaged 66,275 while The Scotsman fared even worse at 50,430.

At such levels – comfortably exceeded by the Press and Journal (July figures), two national titles stand on the brink of irrelevance, particularly, as Neil points out, with tartan editions such as The Times performing relatively strongly.

It must be abundantly clear that the Scottish quality market will soon only accommodate one of the titles, perhaps offering only temporary respite for the victor in a winner-take-all battle for which neither yet has the stomach.

Unfortunately, as Neil observes, they are in the hands of companies whose main tactic is to crudely cut costs, rather than undertake the inevitable exercise of rationalisation in staffing. It seems that only external intervention could offer any hope - and there is the rub.

In the years of panic, savings have been made at the expense of quality when journalistic excellence has been most needed to demonstrate a level of credibility that would allow the Scottish parliament to bring the public along with any bid to prop up the titles.

Integrity and diligence have been filtered away as a generation has left the industry to be replaced by dull young things lacking drive or determination, talent or ideas and scornful of the work ethic of the past. They expect the job to be glamorous, quickly experience disappointment and then plan their next move into PR.

Real hard news is scarce, political commentary simplistic and unashamedly biased and, but for a few noble exceptions, the quality of writing so poor that there is little incentive for a reader to donate the cover price.

In allowing this state of affairs to come to pass, Newsquest, Johnston Press and, yes even Neil’s cherished Barclays have, presumably unwittingly, participated in a process not of decline but of obsolescence.

No place for sticky tape in political TV

For a small country, Scotland has a hell of a lot of political activity. This should be any journalist’s dream. Never mind the presence of our esteemed Prime Minister and Chancellor of the Exchequer at Westminster or the snakepits of internecine warfare that are our councils, Holyrood annually provides opportunities for kilometres of printed columns and broadcasting that runs into months, rather than hours.

In the latter area, the country is exceptionally well served in terms of talent, even if Andrew Neil and Andrew Marr now prefer to concentrate on the mother of parliaments. Pick of the broadcasting bunch is Iain Macwhirter who combines the rare abilities of being as effective in print as with the spoken word and having the gift for distilling complex political issues and presenting them in an accessible form that loses none of its intellectual integrity. The BBC, Herald, Sunday Herald and Guardian Unlimited all benefit from his wisdom – but not as much as do the listeners and readers.

Close behind is Brian Taylor – as reliable and friendly as a Labrador who effortlessly blends wit and gravitas with a faultless sensitivity.

And then there is Glenn Campbell, who is a bona fide star of the small screen. Polished and relaxed, Campbell’s marries a youthful appearance with a deep, hypnotic voice that carries a sense of the inescapable wisdom of cherished fatherly advice. His will be a difficult seat to fill when he finally leaves The Politics Show Scotland, as Gary Robertson found out on Sunday.

That was not entirely Robertson’s fault. Competent if understandably nervy and relying too heavily on printed notes, it can have helped him none at all that the show looked like it was put together with sticky tape.

The UK show started with drugs, moving to Scotland where Robertson introduced Annabel Goldie, telling us that they would be discussing drugs policy following the infamous deal at the Scottish budget. He then passed on to Sally McNair in Glasgow who moved to Christine McCormack in Aberdeen for a report on the evacuation of an oil rig.

McCormack, who appeared to still be in her coat from Sunday church, stuttered through 60 seconds of numbers without being able to shed any light on events before signing off with a “back to you Sally”. (Presumably, over and out is not favoured in the BBC style guide). Returning to McNair telling us yet again that Gary Robertson will be discussing drugs strategy “on The Politics Show in a few minutes time”.

By now the viewers should at least have been primed for the upcoming content.

Facing Annabel Goldie, Robertson strove to be provocative, mischievously opening with the proposition that, post-budget, the Tory “influence is over, isn’t it”, and later asking if the party was now part of a right-wing alliance with the SNP. In Goldie, however, Robertson was up against too shrewd and wizened a political stager to be upset at such obvious tactics.

If ever a face could be “set like flint”, it is Goldie’s (not the most desirable quality for a woman who claimed she could offer “sex” in the Holyrood election campaign debate) and if anything she appeared to gain in strength as the interview progressed.

What Robertson has yet to master is the ability of Campbell, Taylor and Macwhirter to listen carefully to the answers he is given and quickly formulate an incisive question based on them. Picking up the pace with interruptions is not enough to throw the most seasoned politicians off their stride.

He did raise some issues on the apparent conflict between the Tories as unionists “propping up” separatists, working with LibDems and Labour, and trying to reconcile those positions with national Tory policy. But without the ability to probe deeply, the interview was less than engaging and too reminiscent of all too familiar throwaway sessions that have become the norm in recent years.

A final question on the then breaking story of the oil rig evacuation after a security alert (later found to be a false alarm) belonged in a school magazine: “Is this something we should be concerned about?”

A feature on drug rehabilitation for women was followed by Robertson’s interview with Community Safety Minister Fergus Ewing, who the presenter had earlier described as the “Drugs Minister”. By now growing in confidence, Robertson homed in on the disagreement on the value of methadone and had Ewing waffling uncomfortably as he desperately tried to give the impression of consensus where none exists.

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of the whole programme was the fact that no reference was made to the national show’s interviews with Rabbi Aryeh Sufrin, the Chief Executive of Drugsline and the former Home Secretary, David Blunkett on the re-classification of cannabis. Remarkable, but not surprising, given that the Scottish element of the show gave the impression of comprising independent units taking a guess at what the others were thinking.

There is room for sympathy when a potentially massive story begins to break just before a show goes on the air and throws the news agenda on its head. But the content and format of The Politics Show is such that it should have been easy to produce a cohesive broadcast unaffected by a flurry of newsroom activity, even if that did involve a final report from Jim Murray, displaying his thermal vest and lopsided spectacles.

Whatever the BBC pays for Glenn Campbell’s calm exterior, it’s not enough.