Newspapers are in rough shape
Let us tell you why we stay
About once a week, a friend or reader stumbles upon some gloom-and-doom piece about the newspaper industry and feels compelled to send it my way … as if maybe I don’t know.
With all due respect, sending a depressing story about newspapers to someone who works for a newspaper is like sending a tornado alert to Dorothy while she and Toto are already hurtling through the air. Trust me. We’re aware.
The past couple of weeks, though, have been particularly rough. The Los Angeles Times announced it was laying off about 20% of its staff. The Washington Post is losing 240 journalists. Sports Illustrated’s entire existence is in doubt.
Here at home, journalists in the Orlando Sentinel’s guild staged a one-day work stoppage on Thursday — for the first time in this paper’s 148-year history.
I’m not part of the guild because of my position. I’m ineligible. But I support their move and absolutely share in their frustrations. Most Sentinel journalists haven’t gotten raises in years, not even for costs of living. To the contrary, some had their salaries cut, even as the paper posted healthy profits. And make no mistake: Despite the gloom and doom, those profits are why hedge funds target newspapers — because there’s money to mine.
If that wasn’t enough, our relatively new hedge fund owners recently announced they planned on taking away 401(k) benefits as well. All of that led to writers, photographers and editors at the Sentinel and several other papers purchased by Alden Global Capital — in Chicago, Virginia and Pennsylvania — to protest Thursday.
They deserve better. Honestly, though, I’m not sure what might change. In recent years, the company has shown as much indifference to its employees as it has loyal subscribers, jacking up prices, providing unreliable delivery and maddening customer service without direct access to people in this community.
Nobody dislikes all this more than the people who work here. I’ve fielded thousands of calls and emails — literally, thousands — from frustrated customers who don’t feel like they can reach anyone else.
I’ve apologized for decisions I didn’t make and that madden me as well. I’ve lost a lot of sleep over it. And even though I understand and share readers’ frustration, when they vent at the journalists still here, I feel a bit like they’re yelling at the string players on the Titanic who stuck around to play “Nearer My God to Thee” to comfort the passengers as the frigid waters rose.
We are the ones who decided to stay. While some were cavalierly laid off, most of our colleagues left to work fewer hours and make more money. I’ve passed up opportunities to more than double my salary. I’m no martyr. None of us are. We all own our decisions.
But today I wanted to tell you why we stay and who these journalists are.
They are people like Buddy Collings and J.C. Carnahan, Sentinel sports reporters who don’t obsess over the Super Bowl but stand on the sidelines of high school football fields on Friday nights — and then write and file stories, sometimes working until 3 in the morning.
Though their team is spread thin, J.C. said Buddy always preached the importance of covering everything from bowling to water polo. And they try to do so at a mind-melting 70 or so high schools in the region.
J.C. said he’s been offered other jobs, “but, like the high school sports coaches who carry on while underpaid and underappreciated, I love what I do. I can’t bring myself to give up on it just yet.”
They are people like Leslie Postal, a mother of two who was once part of a hearty education team with reporters based in every county but who now covers education issues throughout the state by herself. She’s the one combing records to reveal book-censorship lists and helping parents understand ever-changing standards.
“I stay because I like to write stories that tell readers something they didn’t know and probably should,” Leslie said. “I like telling stories. I like explaining things. I like helping to hold our institutions accountable.”
They are people like health care reporter Caroline Catherman, who has had to fight the state for access to public health records that citizens deserve to see.
Caroline said she started two years ago with one goal — to share objectively true information. Yet she was baffled by some of the reaction she got after sharing COVID data. “For every one positive email, I’d get 10 death threats,” she said. “It’s a thankless job a lot of the time.”
They are people like Cristóbal Reyes, who scrambles to cover courts and cops in two counties — a beat that at least four different reporters used to do. Cris says his job is exhausting but also the only thing he ever really wanted to do. He said his mother once told him that, even though he probably makes the least of his siblings, he also seems the happiest.
It can be a curse to love a profession that doesn’t love you back.
These journalists deserve better from their company. And maybe society in general. Cris also thinks future journalists deserve better — and that future generations deserve real journalism, which is why he took a stand last week.
And they are people like photojournalist Willie J. Allen, a former bartender and restaurant manager who has a uniquely upbeat perspective and knack for capturing moments that help you see everyday life in entirely new ways.
“I believe in the goodness of people. I believe in the magic of storytelling,” Willie said. “We share the stories about how people make it through the tough times and triumph. It’s not the color, religion, nationality, it’s big hearts, strong wills, serendipitous moments and faith in one another.”
Most of these journalists never write about people like Joe Biden or Donald Trump. They simply cover their communities. Arts, culture and zoning meetings that would go otherwise ignored. And we all do so under the direction of an executive editor, Julie Anderson, who is fiercely committed to accountability and transparency and is never intimidated by power. Not every news organization can say that.
I could fill an entire separate column with the reasons that formerly print-centric institutions are struggling today. Because more people like to get their news free or via tweet-sized bites. Because Wall Street owners siphon off local profits to other ventures. Because some people prefer to get their “news” from places that will merely nurture their existing opinions.
There are certainly trust issues in modern journalism. But that’s not what’s driving this. Sports Illustrated isn’t struggling because it’s too “woke,” anymore than Playboy did before it folded completely. The internet has changed the way people consume news and everything else.
Our online subscriptions are steadily climbing. But most papers are still fighting economic headwinds and owners that are often more interested in profits than journalism.
When newspapers shed journalists, some political operatives cheer. Last week, that included some of those who work for Ron DeSantis who tweeted about “Celebrating the firing of 115 Los Angeles Times employees.”
That’s certainly their right. But let me tell you who also cheers whenever local journalist positions are cut? Bad guys. Corrupt politicians. Greasy lobbyists. Predators.
Evil thrives when there’s no spotlight shining. And there are quite a few stories in Central Florida, where the Sentinel was the only one shining a light. That includes stories about corruption at the expressway authority, shady dealings at the airport, conflicts of interest and wasteful spending at the nonprofit blood bank and toxic chemicals in drinking-water supplies in Seminole County.
I guarantee you the people responsible for all those things wish there had been fewer newspaper journalists demanding answers.
I often remind myself that the people who founded this newspaper a century-and-a-half ago chose its name with purpose. They believed the local newspaper should be a Sentinel, standing guard over its community. That’s what most of us still believe today.