Remote work? Even in pandemic, newspaper stays clueless
Stephen H. Provost
Why has journalism been in trouble for the past 15 years or so?
Simple: It can’t or won’t adapt.
If it can’t, that’s understandable. If it won’t, that’s something else entirely.
Print journalism has faced a host of challenges, ranging from more competition (first cable TV, then the internet) to declines in ad revenue. Then there are shifting demographics: Younger people just aren’t as interested in reading — or subscribing to — the daily newspaper.
Publishing companies have made a host of attempts to shift gears, most of which have been unsuccessful, and most of which have involved 1) downsizing via layoffs and 2) trying to earn more ad revenue online. Because online ads cost a lot less than print ads, you need to sell a whole lot more of them to make the same amount of money.
That’s particularly hard when the brick-and-mortar retailers that were newspapers’ bread and butter for decades have been slow to adapt, too. Some don’t have as many ad dollars to spend as they once did, and many others have gone out of business.
One of the biggest expenses in running a newspaper, after payroll, is the cost of the physical plant. If you don’t own your building outright, you have to pay a mortgage or rent. Plus, you have to pay for utilities, to keep all those computers running and lights on, not to mention air conditioning during the summer and heating costs in winter.
Some newspaper chains adapted by consolidating printing offsite, while others sold cavernous buildings that housed a quarter of the workforce they once did — thanks to the aforementioned layoffs.
I was one of those layoffs, and after 30-plus years in the business, I now do contract work in the comfort of my own home. I don’t make as much money as I once did, but I don’t need as much money, either, having traded in the high-rent insanity of the Golden Shakedown State for realistic and reasonable rural Virginia.
Same old story
Despite all this, I still check in on traditional journalism from time to time, and it seems that little has changed.
Being on the lookout (but not desperate) for contract work, I still open those emails from Indeed.com every now and then if something catches my eye. This morning, something did.
A major newspaper was hiring for a position that seemed right up my alley. The ad called for journalist with at least five years of experience as a copy editor, and the position focused on travel. Having just taken a 7,500-mile trip last year to collect material for a travel book called Yesterday’s Highways, I found my interest piqued.
Until, that is, I got to the sentence that stated, “This position is based in our ... newsroom and is not eligible for remote work.”
My interest was suddenly un-piqued.
I was left scratching my head and wondering when newspapers were going to get it — if they ever were. I mean, seriously: Here we are in the middle of a once-in-a-century pandemic, and everyone who lives near the newsroom in question is under stay-at-home orders.
Copy editors aren’t essential workers. They’re not delivering packages, stocking supermarket shelves or working in meat plants. They can work from home. I know, because I do. Every day. Yet here was an ad for a copy editor that put the kybosh on remote work right from the get-go.
I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t know the specifics of why the publication in question would limit applications to those willing to work at its plant. I didn’t call to ask. Working remotely was a deal-breaker for the paper, but not working remotely was a deal-breaker for me. Why should I expose my 56-year-old prone-to-bronchial-infection self to a major metropolitan area where the virus is all over the place?Especially when, regardless of the company’s rationale, it just doesn’t make sense
Working remotely, however, does, because:
Technology can be adapted to accommodate remote work.
Meetings, planning and oversight can be done remotely.
Work such as copy editing can most certainly be done from home.
Oblivious, meet Oblivion
These adaptations really aren’t all that hard, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t want to adapt. It doesn’t matter that you’d save money on utilities. Or that workers value flexibility, and they’re more likely to stay in a remote position than an on-site job. Or that remote workers tend to be self-starters who are more productive than desk jockeys nervous about their boss looking over their shoulder. What matters is “we’ve always done it this way.”
Except that “always” is coming to an end. Newspapers have been in decline for more than a decade, with even the largest companies struggling to stay afloat, fending off bankruptcies by way of layoffs and mergers. Meanwhile, they’re giving their dwindling subscriber base less news — and their shrinking circle of advertisers fewer subscribers. It’s like the shrinking hamburger at the fast-food place that still costs the same as it ever did.
You’d think they’d welcome remote work as another means of cutting costs.
Guess not. At least this place didn’t — I can’t comment on how others are responding.
But I’m not surprised. If there’s one thing that some companies put even ahead of profits, it’s “corporate culture.” That’s just a fancy term for, “We’re going to keep doing it this way, whether it works or not.”
It wasn’t working before, and it’s sure not working now, as the COVID-19 crisis has only made things worse. A story in The Guardian quoted one expert as saying U.S. newspapers are facing “hundreds, not dozens” of closures in “an extinction-level event.”
I don’t know about you, but I’d rather work from home than go extinct, which is kind of what we’ve been doing on an individual level during this crisis. It was too late for a lot of newspapers even before the coronavirus hit. The astonishing thing is that, even now, the bias against remote work seems to be stronger than the will to survive.
And that’s pretty damned sad.