Michael Jackson isn’t the only one who died recently. I used to think journalism, the profession that paid for my beer and Big Macs for years, could be saved. This morning, I’m willing to call time of death.
This is why:
Washington Post sells access, $25,000+
According to Politico, here’s what happened:
For $25,000 to $250,000, The Washington Post has offered lobbyists and association executives off-the-record, nonconfrontational access to “those powerful few”: Obama administration officials, members of Congress, and — at first — even the paper’s own reporters and editors.
The astonishing offer was detailed in a flier circulated Wednesday to a health care lobbyist, who provided it to a reporter because the lobbyist said he felt it was a conflict for the paper to charge for access to, as the flier says, its “health care reporting and editorial staff.”
…The offer — which essentially turns a news organization into a facilitator for private lobbyist-official encounters — was a new sign of the lengths to which news organizations will go to find revenue at a time when most newspapers are struggling for survival.
And it’s a turn of the times that a lobbyist is scolding The Washington Post for its ethical practices.
The Post’s editor harrumphed and said he was shocked to discover the offer, and promised that no one from the newsroom would participate. He sounded exactly like the government and corporate drones I used to quote when they got caught.
If no one had written a story, I have no doubt the event would have proceeded as planned. In some ways, it’s the ultimate result of focus groups, marketing campaigns and “serving the demographic.” This, at least, removes all the bullshit. The Post, with this little flyer, seems to be saying, “Just tell us what you want us to write, and for the following prices, you can have it.” It’s like the value menu at McDonalds.
I’m not the dewy-eyed idealist I was when I started writing for money, but I still believe reporters have one basic duty: to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. And — Jesus Christ, I shouldn’t even have to type this — that does not mean joining the comfortable for cocktails and a fee at the end of the night.
There are other professionals who do that. They’re usually better-looking than journalists, and these days, probably more respected.
(Found via Matt Taibbi’s blog.)
