Slowing down and wising up: why slow journalism matters
Breaking news, fake news (© Donald J Trump) and going viral (whatever that is these days).
In today’s hyperconnected world, there’s a seemingly never-ending barrage of information — real and not — all day, every day. But in the race to be first to a story, has news just become noise?
In a world where 400 hours of video are uploaded to YouTube, and 527,000 photos are shared to Snapchat every minute, is there any surprise that there’s intense competition for eyeballs on the news?
With all this competition it can feel like the news agenda runs away before you’ve even had a chance to consume it; a storm you chase, but never catch. And can you really believe the news you do manage to catch? According to the US President you can’t trust any of it (unless it offers glowing praise of him, of course).
Journalism, it seems, is at a fork in the road — significant redundancies at BuzzFeed and Huffington Post, as well as the sad demise of The Pool, are proof of that. All three rely predominately on advertising and sponsorships to generate revenue (although The Pool did have a ‘premium’ paid-for newsletter). Which is a curious strategy when people are increasingly more comfortable with paying for quality journalism they like — and often online, too. As an example, just look at these stats from the New York Times (NB. note the sharp increase post-Trump election in 2016):
What is true is there’s never been a harder time to ply your trade in journalism. Revered sports journalist Hugh McIlvanney, who sadly died recently, eloquently bemoaned modern journalistic practices in his final Sunday Times column:
“Technology has delivered many a boon to the working reporter but in sport, especially, there are penalties. The demand for instant information and comment for the internet, in addition to the copy transmitted to the newspaper, must eat into the opportunities for the ferreting around that I always found productive in the immediate aftermath of an event.
“I envy the present generation of sportswriters their youth, but not their operating conditions.”
So, are we all finally getting tired of chasing the instant news storm? Instead, do we want well-informed journalism that takes its time? And are we also happy to pay for it? I, for one, am. That’s why I’ve become a convert to slow journalism.
What is slow journalism?
Slow journalism is a practice that gives writers the space and time to ‘ferret around’ (to paraphrase the great McIlvanney) and get to the heart of a story, often once the news agenda has moved on.
It’s nothing new — the growth in popularity of long reads over the past few years is essentially the same thing, although they are often an addition to a more conventional news approach (see The Guardian’s long read section).
Now we are seeing a rise in dedicated outlets that only do slow journalism. Perhaps the most prominent — and what introduced me to the phenomenon in the first place — is the UK’s Delayed Gratification (DG) magazine. It is a high quality quarterly magazine which revisits the news after the agenda has moved on to give the final analysis on stories.
“We’re not trying to compete with the traditional news media,” Matthew Lee, an editor at the magazine, has said in an online interview. “Slow journalism and fast journalism can co-exist peacefully. We hope to provoke and surprise readers, and offer perspectives on news stories they haven’t heard before.
“But our main goal is to create a beautiful, informative and entertaining magazine.”
DG has been around since 2011 and has — slowly, appropriately — built a print readership of 24,000, including 5,000 subscribers, as of March last year.
This year sees another slow journalism brand launch — Tortoise. It will operate a membership model with an aim of keeping people informed without overwhelming them (its motto is ‘slow down, wise up’). And it has some big-hitters driving it. It is the brainchild of Matthew Harding, the BBC’s former head of news and editor of The Times, who has also poached top talent including Chris Cook, Newsnight’s former policy editor, to join him at the flagship company.
The Tortoise approach includes hosting news conferences called ThinkIn’s, where the editorial team discusses what they’re going to cover. Crucially, Tortoise members are invited to attend these and share their perspectives on the stories and issues being discussed. These then inform the content of a once-daily news digest, which shares five to seven concise articles at 11:00 each morning. The company also plans to publish a quarterly book of long reads — thoughtfully reported pieces that investigate “the driving forces behind the news”.
What both examples share in common is a desire to revisit stories in depth — either once the news cycle has gone or by taking more time with what is driving the news agenda now. Both shun advertising of any kind for a subscriber/membership model. And there’s clearly a demand: Tortoise secured £539,035 of backing on Kickstarter against a £75,000 funding target at the end of last year. It will be interesting to see how membership numbers grow once it formally launches in April.
Slow journalism examples
The two titles above are not the only options for those keen to give slow journalism a go. Here’s a list of others that are also part of the slow news movement:
As above.
As above.
ProPublica is an independent, non-for-profit newsroom that produces investigative journalism with moral force. It digs deep into important issues, shining a light on abuses of power and betrayals of public trust. It was the first online news source to win a Pulitzer Prize in 2010 for The Deadly Choices At Memorial — a story that chronicled the urgent life-and-death decisions made by one hospital’s doctors when they were cut off by the floodwaters of Hurricane Katrina. It has won the prize a further two times since.
The Atavist Magazine publishes one long non-fiction story each month. Its digital-only features are designed to be cinematic true stories with in-depth reporting.
Long Play was launched by eight Finnish freelance journalists in 2013. It was an experiment aimed at creating a reader-funded publishing model for serious, high-quality journalism. Its philosophy is:
“the important questions in life rarely have simple answers. If we are to really understand today’s big issues — climate change, the ethics of health and technology, terrorism, racism — we need journalists that spend a great deal of time working on their stories.”
Slow News produces two specialized newsletters — Flow and Wolf — which are available to subscribers for a fee. Costing €2 a month, Flow comes out twice a week. On Wednesdays it features five pieces of content — including articles, stories, photos, videos — that have been curated by Slow News’s editorial staff. On Sundays, it features two pieces of content and an unpublished article, designed and produced by the publisher and its collaborators.
Wolf, meanwhile, offers news and analysis on the world of communication, marketing and digital journalism. Edited by Alberto Puliafito, Mafe de Baggis and Filippo Pretolani, it comes out three times a week and costs €10 a month.
Zetland publishes three to four news articles daily, focusing on long-form stories and in-depth articles. It is a subscription-based organization and had more than 8,500 subscribers as of July 2017.
Slowing down
A final confession: I am a founding member of Tortoise, and was one of many who helped it achieve its record Kickstarter total. When I first read about it, it just felt right to support it. And since using it in beta since last month (it formally launches in Spring) I have loved it. The membership model feels inclusive, and I’m sure going to one of its ThinkIn’s soon will only help that.
Do I still follow the rolling news agenda? Of course. And do I still frantically search social media for up-to-the-minute updates? Yes, but less than I used to. As Matthew Lee rightly pointed out, there’s a place for both to co-exist — but more people need to embrace slow journalism; it serves a very important purpose, especially now.
The Tortoise tagline is ‘slow down, wise up’. In a world of ‘fake’, instant news I think that’s something we could all try and do a bit more — whether the US President wants us to or not.
