Doomed To Failure: News Media’s Billionaire Business Strategy

The truth is, we don’t really know how well most of the nation’s news media properties are doing. The vast majority are closely held private companies or part of giant balance sheets occluded by subsidies from other, totally unrelated enterprises.

The privately-held properties are varied in size with just as varied in management ability: From Tribune Corp.’s ham-fisted senior executives to General Media’s Oracle of Omaha. Examining the progress of these companies is like a new form of Kreminology where we watch circulation numbers like tractor production reports and layoff notices like evidence of the latest famine.

Among publicly-owned companies, we know barely more of their operations. Earning reports for the oft-scourged Patch.com and Huffington Post are hidden beneath a mountain of modems while Woodward and Bernstein’s Washington Post floats atop a river of questionable for-profit college tuition money.

The new digital darlings aren’t faring much better. Shiny new ventures like Buzzfeed and Business Insider are built upon legions of twenty-somethings trying to make their New York Media Dream come true. While the new media content producers are too inexperienced to know their jobs provide little future and less security, the founders trumpet their latest venture capital rounds and build Potemkin advertising vehicles while proclaiming themselves The News Future.

In all cases, occasional escapees publish tell-alls of management sins, but most of those fortunate to get over the wall and into decent society just try to blend into well-paying PR jobs and keep their mouth shut. It is a world of defensive postures where after a decade of bleeding everyone is just trying to be the last one out of the Warsaw Pact before it truly collapses.

Those of us on the outside know it’s bad, but there is so little data or information to know the level of badness that we’re left to pick through frightening anecdotes of demented business thinking.

There’s the metro daily losing $80 million a year, the newspaper that held together a wounded city inexplicably losing its daily print edition, the Pulitzer Prize-winning paper turned into a developer’s mouthpiece, and, and, and… the list keeps getting longer.

Since the height of the Industrial Revolution, news has been a business of media barons and Fleet Street lords. We take for granted that the helmsmen of the press are supposed to be bigger than life with who paint with extra wide paintbrushes. The news rolls out, they compete for our loyalty and readers take it all with a grain of salt.

Yet through it all we depended on news organizations to give us authoritative accounts, infused with insight gained from experience and a deeper knowledge than there was space on the screen to convey. But the combination of cutbacks, slashing and just plain terrible business acumen–across an entire industry!–has bled out the best talent, the very ones who could help publications gain back lost audiences and convince readers that they really need news organizations at all.

From Ida Tarbell to H.L. Mencken to Mike Royko to Jim Murray, we savored not young derring-do, but expert craftsmanship. While some news enterprises still hold on to those expensive greybeards, most publications have opted to employ freshfaced “content producers” who can fill pages, run on caffeine and just enough money to pay the rent rather than ask hard questions, build rolodexes of sources and make careers out of explaining our incredibly complicated world.

It’s become a total shit show, to put it mildly.

But through it all news media retains glamor and some elements, or potential at least, of power. So somebody’s still interested.

And so now news is moving into the age of the billionaires.

The venture capital firms that made a bad bet on media at the turn of the last century were the first to unload. Off went the San Diego Union-Times, the Tribune Company, the Chicago Sun Times, the Creative Loafing alternative newspapers, the General Media publications. But then more big metro dailies and news magazines needed to be rescued, like the New York Times (Carlos Slim), Newsweek (Barry Diller), The Atlantic (David Bradley) and The New Republic (Chris Hughes).

Oligarch ownership is not in and of itself a bad thing–after all there are well-meaning rich people out there–but the circumstances of the sales and the purchasers’ backgrounds tend to not portend well for struggling news enterprises.

Let’s be clear: When a news publication is purchased by a rich guy that made his millions in a totally unrelated industry, it is unlikely the new owner will bend themselves to focus on staunching the red-ink and moving extraordinarily complex news businesses into the black.

There’s more than enough evidence to support how media and other business lines don’t mix well. Remember when Gulf + Western bought Paramount? When AOL bought Time Warner? When Yahoo! thought it was becoming a “media company”?

With few exceptions, today’s oligarch media owners are not proving themselves any better than their swashbuckling forebears. In Chicago, the national center of rich-guy media ownership, we have poorly-branded, uncentered news organizations that are still laying off employees, and trying a million-different things just to get a foothold. In New York the Post is operated by grab-your-attention-at-any-cost editors and Hearst’s Chronicles in San Francisco and Houston have become part of Demand Media’s crap-for-eyeballs operation that leverages their once-great news products.

Still though, we don’t really know how well these businesses are doing. Their editors, publishers and owners all tell us things are fine and profitability is just around the corner. Until they close.

For us news consumers, our bullshit meters are way in the red. We see how poor the content is, how little value it adds to our lives and we wonder, who the heck do they think they are they fooling? And then click on to the next website.

The final act, as it always is with billionaires and venture capitalists, is to just turn out the lights. Maybe there’s an interim period where they cut checks to keep their butterfly collection going, as Rupert Murdoch clearly does for his New York Post, but inevitably the top-heavy, no-business-acumen leadership drive their news organizations into the ground as they struggle to keep their golden age empires and high standards of living.

It doesn’t have to be like this. There are plenty of models of successful news media, but they’re boring, staid and profitable. McGraw Hill’s industry newsletter division has had healthy profits for decades. Reed Elsevier’s stable of information products, including Lexis Nexis, chug along just fine. And while Bloomberg is a private company, it behaves like a growing company, making investment and hiring the best people it can find.

What’s the difference between McGraw Hill and most other news companies? They determine what their audience wants, they provide it for a fee and then anything else, like events or advertising, is considered gravy.

The “providing it” part is where most news veterans would protest. Making news costs money, they say, a great feature story can cost tens of thousands. Yes, but do you know what your audience really wants? And what they’re willing to pay?

The answer you get from news executives, from the smallest small-town daily to the top of the New York Times, tends to be, “No.” They don’t. Articles are produced and thrown against the wall to see if they’re received well, like testing pasta against the kitchen wall. Maybe this one will be liked, maybe this one won’t. Publishers, ignoring the Long Tail, media’s most important concept this century, continue to roll out new general interest publications with little heed to the new reality.

There’s a precedent for this in retail. As recently as the 1980’s a plurality of goods in big cities were purchased in massive department stores, emporiums filed with every imaginable desire. But then “category killers” like Best Buy, The Gap and Linens ‘n’ Things came, and eviscerated the department stores’ best profit lines. Department stores, who relied on an interlocking series of subsidies–get women in to buy cheap sheets, but snag them on the first floor with expensive perfume–were decimated and ended up merely a set of brand names offering the latest sales, as Ron Johnson recently discovered.

Major metro newspapers, reduced to making their profit on massive inserts, are the media equivalent of department stories while the likes of Grantland.com and Ain’t It Cool News are the new Best Buys. Ask yourself which group knows what part of their editorial draws their audience and you’ll predict the one with a profitable future.

Most of today’s news organizations, reduced to trading in on their glamor for billionaire backing, still have no impetus to really find out who their audience is, because billionaires are sold on the glamorous, big audiences of yesteryear. But soon, after years of red ink, no real solutions, continuing declining readership and no clear way out, the rich guys will either shut things down or sell them to the next set of chumps, who will probably have less patience than earlier oligarchs.

Not until news media’s billionaire owners make the really hard choices–like casting aside fame and glamor for green eyeshades and much smaller paying audiences–will they even have half a chance at making it into the next decade.

Three Different Ways News Informs

News informs the reader so that it affects the way they experience the world around them. It does  so in three different ways:

News That Entertains –  The least compelling, but the most often consumed, entertainment news is the light stuff we seek out when the going is rough and we just want a “guilty pleasure.” Entertainment Weekly, People magazine, and most newspaper feature profiles are what we’re talking about here. While this kind of news attracts the broadest audience, it also claims the least loyal and most fickle readers.

News That Edifies –  Most of what you might find in a metro daily’s City Hall coverage or anything in the New York Times falls in this category. Most readers don’t need to know any of the content, but it aims one feel smarter and more aware. The power of these publications are often in their brands and perceived authority. When a reader drops the name, they are saying something about themselves, as in, “I read in the Economist that…”

News That Alters – Readers of these publications expect to learn something that will change how they live their lives or how they do business. As a consequence, these publications command high subscription prices, since they are meant to prove their value. Every trade publication falls into this category, as do some lifestyle magazines like Living Simple. The key to the Wall Street Journal‘s steady circulation rates has been its success at convincing readers that it falls in this category.

As the news landscape shifts, which one of these would you like to be a part of?

News and Information Arbitrage

The news industry is a two-sided market, meaning that it requires two different groups to purchase the product for two different reasons, in this case, advertisers and readers. You can’t get advertisers without readers and you can’t make a product for readers without advertisers.

In the pre-internet age, advertisers and audiences lacked information about each other, alternative news sources and alternative products. As a young boy, getting my monthly National Geographic was exciting. As far as I knew, it was the only way to learn about the exotic world beyond the oceans. Of course there were other publications, but learning about them required a special effort beyond my means.

Advertisers, in turn, had few methods for reaching people interested in the broader world back then. So, the few advertisements NatGeo carried were for cruises and other travel services. Maybe there were other advertising outlets, but were any as convenient as placing one ad in National Geographic?

And then the internet came, and we all know what happened next.

The result of the internet’s information explosion is often talked about in terms of information availability, but to understand the new reality of the news business, it’s probably more appropriate to talk about information arbitrage.  The most compelling news comes from arbitrage: You are providing information to people who desire that information. The higher the demand, or the lower the availability, the more compelling (or valuable) the news.

In large markets, news tends to be a low barrier to entry business: There are lots of experts and out-of-work reporters available to gather news. The reason is that lots of people want to live or work in these large markets. For example, lots of people want to live and work in New York, Chicago, Los Angeles. As a result, there’s lots of high quality people available to report and produce the news. In Chicago, a significant news event might attract eight local news cameras, four news radio mics, and three or four digital/print news outlets. Smaller events will attract maybe a quarter of that, but still four outlets is nothing to sneeze at.

In Rochester, New York, four news outlets would be a huge turnout.

Which market has more opportunity for arbitrage?

This is exactly what Warren Buffett is talking about when he talks about his purchase of General Media, which mostly consists of small market newspapers:

If you want to know what’s going on in your town – whether the news is about the mayor or taxes or high school football – there is no substitute for a local newspaper that is doing its job.

The context here is important: In small markets, Buffett says there no other good way to learn about what’s happening in your community, at all. 

His is a tricky distinction, since news of all kinds tends to have a great deal of indirect competition. City Hall news bleeds into neighborhood news bleeds into prep sports news bleeds into city sports news. In a major market, the lines tend to blur and everyone becomes a competitor at some level (basically what Patch and DNAInfo are counting on). But in smaller markets, there are fewer distinctions and thus less competition.

Many, many news startups miss the concept of information arbitrage: What new information are they providing that no other outlet is not already? Worse yet, there are many large news organizations that continue to miss this distinction too, believing that by simply building up a big audience, they can make the big bucks. For instance in 2010, Business Insider had over 6 million monthly uniques with only $2,127 in profit for the year. Sure they’re in growth mode, but when does the money really roll in?

Henry Luce famously soaked up red ink from Sports Illustrated for ten years before it became profitable, and a five year runway was de rigeur for most magazines before they became profitable back in the day: But once print magazines found an audience, they were expected to coast along profitably for 20-30 years. But that model is out the window now; how can anyone plan for more than two years at a time?

Another example, Huffington Post, has a reported 45 million monthly uniques but hasn’t made a profit since 2010. Sure it’s a huge audience, but from an advertiser’s perspective, so what? With today’s ad exchanges a buyer can order up any audience desired with just about any demo/psychographic imaginable. What is Huffington Post arbitraging for advertisers? Nothing.

The simple question of, “How are you going to make money?” keeps getting avoided. And the list of offenders is getting longer: AOL with HuffPo and Patch.com, Joe Ricketts with DNAInfo, Chris Hughes with The New Republic, Sam Zell with Tribune.  Billionaire backing is not the same as a business model.

If you’re running a news operation, if you know what you’re arbitraging, then you know how you can make money. That’s what Warren Buffett was talking about.

Boston Phoenix, Google Reader and The End of Passive Reader Support

When I lived and went to college in Massachusetts in the early 90′s, Stephen Mindich, owner of the Boston, Portland, Providence and (erstwhile) Worcester Phoenixes was talked about in the arts community as some sort of powerful, evil genius. He’d created a sizable New England empire that included the Northeast alt rock radio station WFNX, and essentially required anyone looking to successfully produce a play, run an art show or whatever, to go through his editorial operation. As artists tend to do, they resented anything that resembled a power structure, and thus resented Mindich.

At least that’s what it seemed like to me as an arts consumer. So since I wanted to know what was going on, I picked up the Phoenix every week and listened to ‘FNX when I couldn’t stand hearing Billy Joel and Boston played yet one more time on WAAF.

Like hundreds of thousands of consumers, I was a passive supporter of Mindich’s media properties. They covered a certain niche and expected me and people like me to read/listen to their content and glance at/listen to their advertising along the way. It was a fine arrangement for a poor student like me, as well as for Newbury Comics and Fishbone’s tour organizers because we were connected to each other for a moderately low price.

That whole system, free content for audiences paid for by display advertising, is a wreckage now, as evidenced by yesterday’s closure of the Boston Phoenix. It’s hard to see since there are still big, recognized brands supported by large sales operations, but the clock is ticking for display ad supported content. Display advertising won’t go the way of the dodo, but the impact it has on our ecosystem may end up more panda-like: A few rare display ad-supported operations in the wild, with a few more kept alive in media zoos, mostly supported by more vibrant revenue streams.

Display advertising is being pummeled from every direction. Last week Destructoid announced that half of their readers block ads in their browsers (much less overall, but certainly trending up). Meanwhile, the Safari browser has already and Mozilla plans to make third-party cookie blocking their default settingthrowing publishers and ad exchanges into a tizzy as they stand to lose their targeting ability. Finally, CPM rates seems to be staying steady at best, but likely declining, as ad exchanges gain efficiency and more web sites add display advertising.

What’s a publisher to do?

Alt weeklies, usually more nimble and entrepreneurial than their magazine or newspaper brethren, have been examining every potential revenue stream with a magnifying glass, from creating digital business directories to targeted events. And yet, the very real truth when spoken, is shocking. Here’s Association of Alternative Newspapers Executive Director Lisa Schackelford talking to the Boston Globe yesterday:

In general, however, alternative newspapers in large markets, like Boston, are not flourishing at the level of their counterparts in smaller, less competitive cities, Shackelford added. It makes sense, she said, that the Portland Phoenix will remain open, as will the Providence Phoenix, which plans to add four full-time reporters.

Shackelford’s statement matches my experience with my hyperlocal Center Square Journal in Chicago, as well as what I’ve heard from other hyperlocal start up owners across the country. Readers in big markets have lots of choices. Free doesn’t work so well anymore when readers are free to choose from lots of other free news sources.

All of this coincides with hard-core media consumers’ hue and cry over Google’s announced plans to shut down Google Reader. Most of the complaints have been about Google’s pulling the rug out from millions who enjoyed their product and their love of reading uncluttered (i.e. “no ads”) content.

What strikes me is that Google, for once, is doing publishers a favor by trying to force more readers to look at ads. As a publisher myself, I could never understand why Google would support a product that bypasses its main revenue generator, display ads. Talk about getting your milk for free. Not only do most media consumers not pay a subscription fee, but they essentially clip away all the ads from the newspaper before reading the content. How can anyone think that system is sustainable in the long-term?

Yet the internet is an intensely libertarian force, which means that most Google Reader users will find an alternative, ad blockers will continue their rise in popularity and cookie blocking will become the norm. Soon, there will be no real way for readers to passively support their favorite publications by occasionally glancing at ads. Readers will have to make active choices about which publications they support.

In the very near future, only those with the largest or most psychographically-targeted audiences will find display advertising a viable income source. The rest of the publishing world, especially start-up operations that lack a strong brand and ad sales team to support them (i.e. non- Condé Nast/Gawker/Disney/Tribune), will need to build their revenue plans around active reader interactions. Subscriptions are an obvious path, but so are ticketed events, survey participation and merely attending free events sponsored by publications. We will have to consciously choose to support publications either with our wallets, our feet or our data.

This intensely interactive future is likely concerning for big publishers and advertisers. It upends the commodification of advertising that has reigned since the Mad Men era and creates situations where almost every consumer interaction requires a creative lure. In other words, it’s a very expensive future.

Big media and advertising will ride this future out one way or another. Brands need to reach audiences and ad agencies and big publishers are paid to adapt. But what happens to small publishers in large markets as passive reader support disappears?

This is a serious question. We’re attempting to address it at Center Square Journal and others are attempting similar solutions. Hopefully subscriptions will become in vogue. Or a cottage market of event planners that work with small publishers will spring up.

For now though, Boston Phoenix won’t likely fly again since it has become our canary in the coal mine.

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The Decline of General Interest News And The Rise of Niche

If you ask a news writer about what they do, they’ll tell you that they inform the world about important things they should know about. From that perspective, which is the common one, news publications are purchased by readers so they can learn something.

But this video of a Clayton Christensen talk about figuring out what job we “hire” products to do is revealing. Watch it. It’s only four and a half minutes.

Now consider news products: If you’re older than 30 and you ride public transportation, you probably remember a time when you had to move a newspaper off your seat to sit down. How often does that happen now? The reason is that newspapers and magazines are no longer “hired” to fill idle time. Games and long-form reading on digital devices have now taken that place.

Newspapers have been whacked hard, but print magazines, mostly produced to fill idle time, have been especially hard hit.

Anyone creating or managing a news publication now has to ask the question: What job does my news publication do? It’s not enough to say, “Inform!” since news consumers today are inundated with choices.

Make a mental list of what’s in your daily news diet. Ten sites? Now include blogs. Twenty?

Almost nine years ago Chris Anderson postulated that the Long Tail would mean a media future swamped by a zillion niche markets. That future is here.

The chart above shows the relentless power of Anderson’s Long Tail theory. That truth, along with the brutal questions forced by Christensen’s “Job To Do” lecture force anyone interested in news to ask, what future do general interest news publications have?

Three new sites that have shown tremendous readership growth, Grantland, The Verge and Buzzfeed, have two things in common: niche focus and long-form writing. Grantland has in-depth sports and pop culture writing, the Verge has in-depth technology news, reviews and “geek lifestyle” while Buzzfeed started as an “I can haz cheezburger” copy to include to medium-form (interesting-but-not-too-deep) stories in politics, entertainment and technology.

 

Grandland and The Verge both launched in 2011, while Buzzfeed chugged along for a couple years before hitting on their winning formula of linkbait and longer form articles.

It’s too early to say since all three sites are still in their growth phase, but it is clear that niche news and long-form writing is a power combination, enough so that totally new brands can break through the clutter in a big way.

The polar opposite of general interest news.