Is the press ready to take federal cash?
Expect to see a politicization of the medium
In August, 1981, the Kent Commission — appointed to investigate the Canadian newspaper industry in the wake of the simultaneous closings of the Ottawa Journal and the Winnipeg Tribune — issued its report.
Among other recommendations for government intervention in the news business, it called for tax credits to be given to newspapers with higher-thanaverage editorial budgets. Of course, the money came with a few strings, but never mind. The publishers rose up against the report, en masse — possibly the only example on record of a Canadian industry rejecting an offer of government aid.
The president of the Canadian Daily Newspaper Publishers Association at the time accused the government of harbouring the goal of “taming the press.” Told that the government would impose the commission’s recommendations if they were not accepted voluntarily, the publisher of the Calgary Herald declared, Churchill-like: “We will never surrender.”
Well now it’s 2018, and the publishers have long been leading the charge for federal aid — not only in luncheon speeches but in their own pages, not to mention numerous private meetings with federal officials. The publishers’ association even went so far as to suggest a model of how the money might be delivered, complete with promises of what sort of coverage they would provide in exchange.
This week all that effort paid off: a $600-million aid package, tucked in the middle of Wednesday’s economic statement. There’d be tax credits for “qualifying” news organizations, tax credits for subscribers to “eligible” digital news media, plus charitable tax status for “qualified” non-profit news organizations, i.e. tax credits for their sponsors.
Of course times have changed since 1981. Indeed they have. Then, the publishers didn’t need the government’s money. Now they’re desperate for it. So I guess we can set aside those longago concerns for press independence. Certainly the publishers have.
Consider: In an election year, after months of angry demands, petulant coverage (does anyone think Mélanie Joly, the former Heritage minister, would have been treated quite so fiercely had she delivered the goods?) and promises of good behaviour, the Liberal government has agreed to supply the nation’s news media with pots of cash.
This comes at a time of maximum suspicion among much of the public about our credibility, or our good faith. You wonder what went on in all those closed-doors meetings? What undertakings were given? What threats were made? Relax. It’s probably nothing. No, really. You can take our word for it.
Of course, no one would be so crude as to attach any explicit quid pro quo. No government would be so foolish as to take a direct hand in doling out the money, or to demand favourable coverage in return. On the other hand, you can’t just give out tax credits to everybody — not in a world where anyone can post to the web and call himself a publisher. So someone has to choose. But who?
The government’s blackly brilliant answer: an “independent panel” of journalists will determine who is eligible to receive the government’s cash. Of course! Make the inmates fight among themselves!
So while one group of journalists is scrambling to stay onside with the panel’s government-mandated definition of “core journalism standards” and “professional journalism,” another group will be angling to be appointed to this panel. Since that’s where the real power will lie.
Just so we’re clear: I don’t actually think the government will appoint a group of card-carrying Liberal hacks to this “independent panel.” They won’t need to. If the example of the Liberalappointed “independent” senators is any guide, they will be scrupulously nonpartisan, of unimpeachable respectability, and dependably progressive.
At least, they will until the Tories are elected. At that point, the new government will be presented with a familiar choice: keep on the Liberal appointees, and be congratulated for their statesmanlike impartiality, or replace them with others of a more right-wing hue, and suddenly arouse those hitherto-dormant fears about freedom of the press.
Either way, the effect will be to inevitably and irrevocably politicize the press. It’s already starting: the Tories have denounced the plan as a partisan Liberal “slush fund.” So we will cover the next election as one of the central issues in it, with one party promising to “save” us and the other opposed. Even if we think this knowledge will not affect our coverage, not even one little bit, do we really think the public will?
Until now, politicians have had to suffer journalists’ lectures to the effect that taking campaign donations from corporations and other vested interests might influence their judgment, or that their ownership of shares in a company they regulate might place them in a conflict of interest. We will have to shut up about that now, as we will have to shut up about bailouts of other industries, and handouts to interest groups. We will simply have no standing to object to any of it.
In time, it will no longer occur to us. The money the government is giving us is not going to solve our problems. It is only going to ensure we put off confronting them. Before long we will be back for more — after the same mutual dance of veiled threat and implicit promise.
Perhaps some news organizations will refuse the government lolly. They will find themselves at a substantial competitive disadvantage to those who don’t.
As of course will all those who are refused — not because they are not partisan enough, but because they are not “professional” enough. Perhaps they will be deemed too “ideological” by our panel of progressive worthies? Or perhaps they will be too small, too unusual, scrappy startups practicing journalism in a form unrecognizable to the sorts of people likely to fill such a committee.
To hell with it. To hell with all of it. No newspaper publisher should have anything to do with this plan. And no journalist worthy of the name should go anywhere near that accursed panel.