West Marin has small pockets of commercial life
surrounded by wilderness area. These few commercial establishments pay
for the news you read. Only a small amount of a newspaper’s income
comes from over the counter or subscription sales. Advertising pays
for newspapers.
This is why most small newspapers read like advertorials.
Much editorial space is given to positively reviewing a restaurant or
store that has regularly run an ad.
Editors may also self-censor their news stories if
it will offend a large advertiser. Even worse is when free ads are run
as news stories. When I worked at a newspaper, reporters said that editors
would come around every few months and ask for the [advertiser] story.
Even in large newspapers, some sections are more prone
to advertiser influence than others. The automobile and business sections
write articles almost exclusively about their advertisers. Metro editors
have much greater freedom to publish the truth because they cover poor
people who don’t advertise.
The Point Reyes Light’s poverty
of large advertisers keeps the paper from hiring the reporters it needs;
but it does have one benefit, most of the advertisers are individually
too small to affect the financial health of the newspaper, and so have
no chilling effect on editorial decisions. The one exception is Toby’s
Feed Barn, our largest advertiser. So then a Toby’s hypothetical
is the worst-case scenario. Would The Light run a cover story
that made Toby’s, our largest advertiser, look bad?
The Light does not own its own building, its
computer system is antiquated; there are essentially no hard assets.
The value of The Light lies in its reputation as one of the best
small newspapers in America. The loss in revenue from even our largest
advertiser would be a flesh wound. If The Light did not write
a story because it feared losing an advertiser, the wound to the paper
would spray arterial blood.
A greater threat to editorial integrity does
exist. In a community this small, stories about neighbors, friends and
associates are inevitable. It is uncomfortable to write about neighbors.
Nobody wants some picked scab of her life shown to the world. In this
issue, there is a story about the process leading up to doggie death
penalty. The events in the story occurred close to my home and both
of the disputants live near me. I don’t really want to do a story
about people that walk by my house every day. Should I kill any story
that involves my neighbors because it makes me feel uncomfortable, because
neighbors can exact petty retributions?
I think that I should apply the same standard of coverage
to everybody and sometimes recuse myself from directing stories about
those closest to me. Not because I couldn’t do it fairly, but to
preserve relationships that I value.
An Arthurian editor must pursue a story, regardless
of personal cost or discomfort, without fear of the tyranny of angered
response. If the story is just then any fallout is the confetti of success.
If the story is unjust than the fallout should feather a tarred editor.
This is as it should be.