It’s all there in electronic black and white
It is the best of things, it is the worst of things.
It is a plethora of information — but often, no one looks at it.
You probably have already guessed what it is: the internet.
Here’s an example of just how useful it is to have an internet, with its massive warehouse of space. The CBC did a story on Monday about long-running problems with ambulance staffing and overworked paramedics in St. John’s. The story was based on an eightpage, partially redacted memo the CBC obtained through access to information legislation.
Appended to the bottom of the story? The memo itself, with all its tables and charts, filed in both .text and .pdf formats.
Meaning anyone interested in more than the story can dig in.
Publishing the full memo takes up a kind of space — and offers an amount of detail — that you couldn’t get into a broadcast story or in a newspaper. It’s one of the wonders of digital journalism: the ability to provide a detailed roadmap for those who want to go further. More and more, it’s what we do at SaltWire, too.
The bad part of having a massive warehouse of information? People often don’t bother to even look inside. I’ve had people get in touch with me to dispute things in columns and editorials I’ve written, and often, I can point them to primary source material that they could have easily found themselves with a single Google search.
The internet has plenty of room, is right there in your house, and has easier, more practical ways to find things than old-school library vertical files or digital card catalogues.
Monday, I had a column about a British Supreme Court test case decision on COVID19 and business interruption insurance. (Short version — many small- and medium-sized British businesses are likely to get paid insurance settlements they were denied.) You can read about the decision online in media stories — or, just as simply, you can read the entire decision online. And even more, you can read the decisions that the court decision cites. It’s an information party! (Will it be a boring and long-winded party? The simple answer to that is yes. Unless you’re keenly interested in the topic, it often is painfully dull. That’s why journalists get paid to wade through acres of material — so you don’t have to.)
The upside? Everyone can be an expert. Everyone can have the tools they need to accurately and reasonably make up their minds. The downside? Everyone thinks they already are an expert. Often, they’ve also already made up their minds.
It is remarkably egalitarian — except for the fact that people don’t bother to do even the basic research. If, for example, you doubted the media’s reporting a couple of weeks ago of then-president Donald Trump’s phone call asking Georgia’s Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger for 11,000 votes, you can easily find and listen to the entire hour-long recording on line. Or read the transcript.
Wondering about Dominion Voting Systems US$1.3 billion lawsuit against Rudy Giuliani, which was announced yesterday? You can find it online in seconds.
See a story about a new COVID-19 drug? You can track down the original research, see the sample size of patients treated, find out if it’s been peer-reviewed or released early — there’s an ocean for you to dip your cup into.
Adding links to original material used in news stories is, without a doubt, increased value. It’s especially so in digital work, where you can access a deeper dive with as little as a scroll to the bottom of a story or a single click.
We can lead you to the data. We can’t make you read. Or think.