To help journalism, or not

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Steven Waldman:

The collapse of local news sometimes looks like a big city problem. Alarm bells rang when iconic dailies like the Denver Post and the Baltimore Sun slashed their staffs. The election of George Santos—whose many falsehoods and fabrications came to light only after he won a seat in Congress—cast a spotlight on the anemic local news in New York City.

Since Republicans are more likely to express skepticism than concern about the media, we might conclude that the fate of local news is an issue only for Democrats. In fact, more victims of this trend are probably Republican or conservative Americans, and they should care about strengthening local news.

Using 2020 election results and a dataset collected by professor Penny Abernathy of the Medill School of Journalism at Northwestern, I took a closer look at how local news is faring across the country. The outlook isn’t encouraging for smaller communities, which tend to be more conservative: Of the 205 counties nationwide with no newspapers in the dataset, 93 percent had fewer than 50,000 residents, and 74 percent of those counties without papers voted for Donald Trump in 2020. “More than half of the communities that have lost newspapers are in suburban or rural areas, where the population is shrinking, rather than growing,” Abernathy wrote in a 2022 report on the state of local news.

Between 2004 and 2022, approximately 2,500 weekly publications closed or merged with other papers. In the papers that remain, local coverage has declined more rapidly in smaller towns. “The smallest papers experience the biggest proportional cuts to coverage of local government,” wrote professors Danny Hayes and Jennifer Lawless in their book News Hole: The Demise of Local Journalism and Political Engagement, which studied 121 newspapers. “Local coverage was reduced 300 percent more than other topics at the smallest papers but only 30 percent more than at the largest papers.”

This decline has hampered Americans’ ability to get crucial information about topics affecting their daily lives. Take education, for example: “One out of every three stories written about school boards in 2003 had disappeared by 2017,” add Hayes and Lawless in News Hole. The trend was again more alarming at small outlets: “Among those with less than 15,000 circulation, the average reduction in schools’ coverage was 56 percent.”

And it’s likely to get worse. Abernathy concluded that counties with only one newspaper, lower-than-average median incomes, and declining populations are vulnerable to losing that newspaper and not getting a replacement. I looked at the 1,437 vulnerable counties that she identified as having some of these factors, specifically those with only one newspaper and lower-than-average incomes. The vast majority of counties in the dataset, 83 percent, had populations with fewer than 50,000 residents—small town America where Republicans dominate. Indeed, 90 percent of those vulnerable counties voted Republican in 2020.

The conservative community of Ogdensburg, New York, which is represented by Rep. Elise Stefanik, lost its newspaper, the Ogdensburg Journal, for two years. “To lose the Journal really hurt the city – hurt the city a lot,” said Laura Pearson, executive director of the Chamber of Commerce, in a virtual town hall organized by Editor & Publisher. “It’s where we get our personal stories. It’s where we get our announcements for weddings and births and obituaries. It’s where we sing the praises for student of the month or for their sports activities they’re involved in.”

Local Republican leader James E. Reagan of St. Lawrence County, New York, suggested that misinformation spread more rapidly in the absence of local news. “Once the Journal closed down so many people were turning to social media, to Facebook, anonymous blogs where people could make whatever accusations and allegations they wanted to without identifying who they were,” he said. “There is no one to sort out the truth from the fiction.” As a result of the outcry, a nearby publisher recently revived the Ogdensburg Journal.

One consequence of the local news contraction is the increased concentration of reporters in what Republican voters might consider coastal elite meccas. In 2004, 1 in 8 reporters were located in Los Angeles, New York City, or Washington, D.C. By 2017, it was 1 in 5.

As a result, some Republicans feel that local voices are being overwhelmed by national sensibilities. Josh Holmes, the former chief of staff to Sen. Mitch McConnell, put it well:

“You won’t hear a conservative say this often enough but [please] support your local media … Locals are underfunded and overextended and forced to fall into the clickbait competition with national outlets that only exacerbate the problem. The result is national media misunderstanding/misinterpreting local politics.”

“If you don’t want someone on the coasts to tell the world what your life is like, what your business does, what you believe or what national policy means for your family, then subscribe to a local outlet …”

Among the types of local coverage that these voters miss out on: economic development, high school sports, obituaries, religion, and schools. In other words, they miss out on the types of information that connect them to others in their communities. As Republican Dan Newhouse, co-author of the Local Journalism Sustainability Act, recently put it:

“Local journalism, no matter what form it’s in, truly does contribute to the fabric of a community — keeps people informed about what’s going on … I don’t always like to read what reporters write about me or say about me. But I think having that kind of transparency is just part of our system — it’s really an important part of keeping our communities vibrant and strong.”

What’s more, communities with less local news had lower bond ratings, higher financing costs, and higher taxes. Researchers found that with fewer watchdogs, governments became more wasteful. This also hurt economic development efforts, reinforcing an urban-rural divide. News deserts also tend to have more government corruption. 

Todd Novak, a conservative assemblyman in Wisconsin, has suggested an innovative, Republican-friendly proposal: a tax credit to small businesses that advertise in local news. The primary beneficiary would be the restaurant, bar, or bank that gets the marketing credit (which is probably why the Tavern League of Wisconsin supports it), and the small business, not the government, would decide where to spend their ad dollars. But local news would be supported in the process.

Some cynics might wonder: Why would Republicans do anything to help fill the local-news void if they are already winning in these areas? The answer is because the victims of the collapse of local news are Republican (and other) voters. They get worse information to help them make decisions for their families, and their communities are less able to address their problems. Lawmakers across political parties may differ in their priorities, but not in their desire to see government function. The accountability provided by local news is essential for making sure that the government works for its constituents, so that their families, schools, and communities can thrive.

The other side comes from Chris Shirewalt from 2021:

One of the missing ingredients that’s keeping the American system from functioning well is sufficient local news consumption. This is no revelation to anyone who has watched with even passing interest as the American news media consolidated and nationalized over the past two decades. The deficiency is indeed so obvious there is growing bipartisan agreement on the existence of the problem and a raft of proposals in Congress to address it. But it certainly bears reminding ourselves of the reasons why we need Americans to be better informed on local issues.

We live in a union of states, not a monolithic nation state. Our system is designed for disputes to be resolved and policies to be introduced at the most local level possible. If the town council can’t handle it, the county commission may have to come in. The state may eventually have to get involved if the costs or consequences become too great. Only the biggest or most confounding problems, though, should make it to the federal government. But that’s not what one would discern from looking at Americans’ media consumption. It is very easy to get national news—almost impossible to avoid, really—and very hard to find robust local news. The clear message to Americans is that the remote national capital is more important to their lives than their statehouse or city hall, when the opposite is—or at least should be—true.

The American doctrine of political subsidiarity means that the national government is a subsidiary of the state governments, which are themselves subsidiaries of county or other local governments. The flow is mostly supposed to go from the bottom to the top, not the top down. Consider the decades of savage cultural conflict that followed the Supreme Court decision in the case of Roe v. Wade. The court shifted the polarity on the flow of power when it snatched the issue from the states before a consensus—really many regional consensuses—could be reached. Congress couldn’t enact a law pertaining to abortion that would please both Texas and California so how the heck were Harry Blackmun and six of his fellow justices going to sort it out themselves?

As the Roe decision is finally unraveling after 40 turbulent years—turbulence that warped the judicial selection process and expanded still more the power of the presidency—we look back on a clear case of what goes wrong when the national government forgets to be a subsidiary of the states. States hold a variety of policies on similarly fraught issues: the death penalty, the age of consent, assisted suicide, etc. We seldom if ever have to discuss those issues because they are being resolved by leaders in close proximity to their constituents. Californians might not like Texas’ rules and vice versa, but that causes very little aggravation compared to what we have now with Roe. The status quo on abortion and several other issues is that the blue states and the red states compete for national power to try to make the whole country live like either Californians or Texans. The result is an overpowered but still ineffectual federal government and an increasingly frustrated and excitable electorate. Much of what passes for political and governmental news these days is just about amplifying that frustration and intensifying the cycle of federal bloat and bust.

Diffused power is good because it acts as a check on the tyrannical tendency of highly centralized authority, but it is also good because it allows policies to be administered in the way best suited to individuals. In a nation of 330 million souls, nearly 4 million square miles, and a $21 trillion economy, the belief that there could be more than a handful of one-size-fits-all national solutions must spring from naivety and/or a desire for power. A big part of what makes America great is that we have lots of different pluribuses in our unum. In homogenous societies like Japan, if the mainstream fails, there isn’t another ethnic, economic, geographic, or cultural group to move the nation along. Monocultures are risky in societies in the same way they are in agriculture. So why isn’t that reflected in the news and information readily available to Americans? There are lots of reasons, but market opportunity explains a lot. Having 100 employees for a local newspaper or television station is expensive and has, by definition, a limited area in which to seek profits. The same 100 salaries could produce national coverage that would have far greater possibilities for return on investment.

We don’t know if more robust local news coverage would reverse America’s slide toward centralized power and populist rage politics, but we certainly know weak local coverage has both contributed to and been driven by that slide. And certainly, if we saw local coverage suddenly surging it would be cheered nearly unanimously. But what about engineering that outcome?

The $2.2 trillion social welfare spending package passed by the House and now being sniffed at by the Senate includes $1.7 billion to subsidize local news coverage over the next five years. Newspapers, local TV and radio stations, and websites that focus on local news would be eligible for $25,000 for each journalist they employ in the first year and $15,000 in each of the next four. Leaving aside the dubious assumption about how many of the subsidized positions would remain when the money stopped flowing, such a program would certainly result in an increase in local news coverage. But, again, is that a good thing?

If the problem is that Americans aren’t consuming enough local news, it may be more of a problem of demand rather than supply. More Americans may prefer the thrum of frustration over distant outrages and inept federal responses to the debates over school consolidation, sewer bonds, and the state prison system. If that’s the case—or even just mostly the case—subsidizing unpopular kinds of local coverage would make things worse, not better. Worse still, such payments would make the government a patron of the journalists covering the government’s leaders. That’s the way to create the system in some other countries in which some outlets are “official” and others are not. If “official” status comes with free money, publishers and broadcasters would line up for state sanctioning.

There are good ideas for ways to make the local news business more attractive that relate to ownership and antitrust regulations, among other things. But direct subsidy is wrong since it would both distort the market and breed dependence. If the resurgence of local news is not from the bottom up itself, it will be no good for helping change our top-down political problem.

The bill Shirewalt referred to failed to pass Congress.

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