When Jeremy Pax­man engages, he is an excel­lent presenter. When he is bored…not so much. The clip below shows what hap­pens when News­night attempts to recre­ate the kind of boor­ish con­ver­sa­tion that would not have passed for debate in ye olde Eng­lish pub of thirty years ago.

By using con­tro­ver­sial­ists like Oborne, and an ex-journalist Lam­bert, as a proxy for opin­ion, the pro­gramme does no one a service.

Instead of being edgy and inform­at­ive, Oborne is allowed to simply hijack the stu­dio floor.

A prop­erly briefed Pax­man could have taken on a real offi­cial forensic­ally — and actu­ally “held someone to account”. Isn’t that what News­night was sup­posed to do?

Instead Pax­man is asked to ring­mas­ter a largely power­less array of opin­ion ped­dlers. Mean­while, if you’ve never seen a snake charmer bit­ten by a cobra…

When we fol­low through the his­tory of par­tic­u­lar indus­tries and see new skills arise as old ones decline, it is pos­sible to for­get that the old skill and the new almost always were the per­quis­ite of dif­fer­ent people… Even where an old skill was replaced by a new pro­cess requir­ing equal or greater skill, we rarely find the same work­ers trans­ferred from one to another… The rewards of the “march of pro­gress” always seemed to be gathered by someone else.

E.P. Thompson, The Mak­ing of the Eng­lish Work­ing Class

More than thirty years have passed since my father was vis­ited by the first of sev­eral stretches of unem­ploy­ment that were to haunt his life, and the lives of those who loved him.

He was a trav­el­ling tim­ber sales­man — the Willy Loman of a work­shop world that still ran on thick and tight-grained boards, fra­gile and exotic ven­eers, the seasoned planks and beams that were his stock in trade.

Self-educated, his book­shelf held the nov­els of Alistair McLean and Isaac Asimov along­side Vance Pack­ard’s The Hid­den Per­suaders, J.A.C. Brown’s Tech­niques of Per­sua­sion, Dale Carnegie’s How To Win Friends and Influ­ence People.

His psy­cho­logy of selling would be shared with me on long drives between boat yards and build­ing sites, the work­shops of the cus­tom­ers for whom he was also listener and entertainer.

But changes in the psy­cho­logy of selling did not des­troy his live­li­hood. The makers of repro­duc­tion fur­niture fol­ded. Fibre­glass replaced well-varnished tim­bers in the boat­yards. The eco­nom­ics of busi­ness con­sol­id­a­tion elim­in­ated the need for com­pet­ing sales teams. Tech­no­logy, com­pet­i­tion, and demo­graphy made him redundant.

My father’s exper­i­ence of unem­ploy­ment in the early 1980s was hardly unique, but it was singular.

Laid off tim­ber reps were not heroic enough to myth­o­lo­gised as labour­ers, nor skilled enough to write their own legend and embalm their mis­for­tune with sen­ti­ment­al­ity and social significance.

But when we talk about the cre­at­ive destruc­tion of cre­at­ive indus­tries like journ­al­ism, there is a human cost, and — like my father — it’s lonely and eas­ily forgotten.

Appar­ently not. And I owe Stephen Bates an apology.

Mr. Monck,

I just pur­chased a copy of your book Can You Trust the Media? I found your dis­cus­sion of the 1940s Hutchins Com­mis­sion on Free­dom of the Press on p. 165 par­tic­u­larly inter­est­ing. You write:

“The report, A Free and Respons­ible Press, was pub­lished in 1947 and was an astute, artic­u­late and impas­sioned indict­ment of the mass media. It asser­ted that the press is free for the pur­pose of serving demo­cracy and that a press that shirks its demo­cratic duties will lose its free­dom. The report calls on the press to improve itself in the name of mor­al­ity, demo­cracy and self-preservation.… Over the half-century since Hutchins, the report has shaped aca­demic think­ing about journ­al­ism, but the prac­tice of journ­al­ism car­ries on untouched. A flawed suc­cess as an ana­lysis, A Free and Respons­ible Press has proved, as a call to action, a mag­ni­fi­cent failure.”

In my 1995 mono­graph on the Hutchins Com­mis­sion, pub­lished by North­west­ern University’s Annen­berg Wash­ing­ton Pro­gram and avail­able online, I wrote:

“A Free and Respons­ible Press offers an astute, lit­er­ate, and impas­sioned indict­ment of the nation’s mass media. The 133-page report con­tends that the press is free for the pur­pose of serving demo­cracy; a press that shirks its demo­cratic duties will lose its free­dom. The report calls on the press to improve itself in the name of mor­al­ity, demo­cracy, and self-preservation.… Over the half-century since, the report has appre­ciably influ­enced aca­demic think­ing about journ­al­ism, but not journ­al­ism itself. A flawed suc­cess as an ana­lysis, A Free and Respons­ible Press has proved, as a call to action, a mag­ni­fi­cent failure.”

Any com­ments?

Stephen Bates

Yup. It should be a quote. Simple as that. Instead it’s an attempt, not even com­pleted, to rewrite some­thing that someone else had suc­cinctly expressed. Lazy and dumb. In the pro­cess of shuff­ling text between Sydney and Lon­don without exer­cising due care and atten­tion I reck­lessly trampled on Stephen Bates’ work.

His ori­ginal piece is here:

http://www.annenberg.northwestern.edu/pubs/hutchins/hutch01.htm

The Hutchins Com­mis­sion Report is here: http://www.archive.org/stream/freeandresponsib029216mbp#page/n17/mode/2up