Regulating Social Media….

The term “mainstream media” (or MSM) is generally used as a derogatory term to describe traditional news services (print, broadcast, on-line), especially by anyone who thinks that MSM does not reflect what’s “really going on” in politics, society and the wider arena of current affairs. Depending on which conspiracy theories or political agenda you follow, if MSM doesn’t agree with or express your viewpoint, it’s become very easy to dismiss the Fourth Estate as an instrument of the (deep) State, or merely serving the interests of an oligarchy of wealthy media owners and press barons. This dialectic is sometimes described as the Fifth Estate – those bloggers, podcasters, citizen journalists and marginalized voices that seek to pursue their version(s) of the truth via new content platforms.

Although the tradition of the counter-culture as represented by this Fifth Estate has a very long history, its growth has been accelerated and amplified thanks to new digital technologies in general, and social media brands in particular. The problem is, not only is social media challenging (and ignoring) many of the rules and conventions that underpin the social contract between the public and the traditional media outlets, our governments and regulators cannot keep up with the pace of technology.

In the late 1980s, when I studied sub-editing and basic journalism at night school, the ethos of The Five Ws of Journalism were still taught as the essentials of any credible news outlet or publication. This was also a time when the media was going through significant changes, from new content technology to cross-border ownership, from multi-channel narrow-casting to 24-hour rolling news formats – yet the principles of source verification, fact-checking, libel laws and the right to reply were generally still seen as crucial to instilling public trust and confidence in the media (alongside a healthy dose of scepticism to not believe everything that we read in the paper!).

Now, with social media grabbing more of our attention, and with large, global and engaged audiences on their platforms, who are getting more of their news from these channels, the term “MSM” could easily apply to social media itself. Hence the term “legacy media” has emerged to describe traditional news services.

Whether it’s Facebook wanting to be the “world’s newspaper” or X positioning itself as the global “public square”, it’s clear that these new media barons are in many ways no different to the aging media moguls they seek to displace. Newspapers don’t make money from their cover price or even subscriptions – most revenue comes from advertising and the “rivers of gold” it represents. Now, those advertising dollars are on-line, and tied to our social media accounts and the proliferation of posts, “likes” and “shares” (as well as our personal data).

So how should we think about regulating social media, if the old rules no longer apply?

First, the policy, regulatory and industry framework to oversee social media needs to be simplified and streamlined. In Australia alone, based on a cursory internet search, I identified more than a dozen entities (government, agency, association) that have some form of oversight of social media. Apart from being highly inefficient, surely it doesn’t have to be this complicated? (And complexity and ambiguity can embolden those who seek to flout convention.)

Second, if a social media platform wants to be taken seriously as a trusted news source, and if it aspire to be recognsied as a publication of record, it has to adopt some fundamental principles such as The Five W’s. It’s all very well saying that these platforms are anti-censorship, and pro-free speech, but those rights come with a heap of legal and social responsibilities. To argue that these platforms are merely conduits for public opinion (rather then being content publishers) undermines agency theory. Given that I am not entitled to a social media account (I don’t think it’s yet risen to being a fundamental human right?), and that I don’t own my account (often, not even the content I post), social media companies act as our agents. They give us permission to use their services, and they ultimately control what we post on their digital real estate. They also use algorithms to manipulate what is served up in our feeds. Social media should therefore be held accountable for content that it enables to be disseminated; take more responsibility for any libel, lies or dis/misinformation issued on its platform; and risk prosecution for any content that promotes, encourages or incites violence, insurrection and public disorder.

Third, the fact that much of the content on social media is user-generated should not absolve these platforms from having to provide a formal right of reply, as well as adhering to a recognised and independent dispute resolution service. This will enable alleged victims of on-line bullying, harassment, personal abuse and outright lies to seek redress, without having to embark on expensive legal proceedings. (Of course, if social media companies maintained fact checking and other verification tools, they should be able to mitigate, if not eradicate, the need to invoke these mechanisms in the first place.)

Finally, any reputable social media company should be willing to sign up to minimum standards of practice in respect of content originated or disseminated on its platform, as well as observing existing regulation around personal data, data protection, cyber-security, privacy, intellectual property rights and general consumer protections. At the very least, social media has to prove itself a credible alternative to the legacy media it seeks to displace, otherwise they are not the solution, just another part of the problem.

The Five Ws of Journalism

The importance of a free press within a democratic society cannot be overstated: without the Fourth Estate who will “speak truth unto power”? The role of the printing press was critical to the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the great political reforms in nineteenth century Britain.

But lapses in journalistic behaviour and a decline in editorial standards over the past few decades have brought the press and broadcast media into increasing disrepute – to the point that mainstream media (MSM) has become a pejorative term, and social media (SoMe) claims to be the last bastion of free speech.

I think the truth lies somewhere between those two positions – I don’t believe that the MSM is totally devoid of ethics, nor do I believe that SoMe will displace formal journalism (and it certainly isn’t without its own ethical challenges when it comes to dis/misinformation and hate speech).

But what do I mean by “formal journalism”? After all, we have seen a raft of platforms giving rise to “citizen journalism” and other services which rely heavily on community sourced content, but few of these platforms appear to operate to the same professional standards of traditional reportage, fact-checking, investigative journalism or news dissemination. It also remains to be seen whether these new media channels can displace traditional print (and online) news media as “papers of record”.

As part of a career transition, I took a night class in journalism and sub-editing, with a view to becoming a writer or editor. Although I did work as an editor for many years, it was in the field of legal publishing, and not for a newspaper or magazine. Even though the course I completed was not a traditional degree in journalism, communications or media studies, I was still taught some of the key tenets of serious journalism, principally the Five W’s – the “who, what, where, when and why” of any news event (with the “how” also being an important component of any credible story).

This foundational approach to news reporting underpinned many of the most significant pieces of investigative journalism in the late 20th century, some of which changed laws and government policies, as well as influencing public opinion. Think of the role of the press in breaking the thalidomide story, publishing the Pentagon Papers, or exposing the Watergate cover-up. Even the Panama Papers relied on the collaboration of traditional news media outlets to bring the story to public attention. More recently, the work of Private Eye in helping to bring the UK’s post office miscarriage of justice to light is a prime example of the power of journalistic persistence in search of the truth.

On the other hand, a raft of tabloid scandals have dented the public trust in the traditional press, in particular the phone hacking exploits within the British media. Here in Australia, a recent high profile defamation case prompted the judge to put TV journalism under the microscope – and neither broadcaster involved in the case came away covered in glory. In particular, the court questioned whether the journalists involved had breached their own industry code of practice, by failing to check their facts and by inadequately testing the credibility of their witnesses. The grubby practice of cheque book journalism also came under renewed scrutiny, as did an ill-advised speech on TV by one of the parties that could have been prejudicial to a criminal case. More significantly, one media organisation displayed a willingness to believe (and even assert) that there had been a political conspiracy to suppress an alleged crime, when no such evidence of a cover-up had been established. This case (and its associated claims and counterclaims) still has a fair way to go, and has already embroiled senior politicians (some of whom have been accused of lying about what they knew, when and how), civil servants, political staffers, public prosecutors, multiple police forces, so-called “fixers” and “influencers” with their insidious “back grounding” and a number of TV producers who will probably never work in the industry again.

Added to this sh!t show has been the misnaming of a suspected murderer by one of the above-mentioned TV news channels. This major and latest faux-pas is believed to have been the result of “reporting” some false, misleading or mischievous commentary circulating on social media.

Apart from undertaking more rigorous fact-checking, and enforcing the established journalistic practice of getting actual confirmation of events from at least two credible sources, the news media also needs to make a greater distinction between the facts themselves on the one hand, and conjecture, speculation, opinion, analysis and commentary on the other.

Next week: Is it OK to take selfies in the gym?

 

 

 

Musical Idolatry

As a rebooted version of “Australian Idol” appears on network television, I can’t decide whether programs like this are a result of the current state of the music industry OR are they the cause of the industry’s malaise…?

I’ll admit upfront that I know I’m not the target demographic for these shows (Idol, Voice, Talent…), so I’m not even going to comment on the quality of the musical content or the presentation format.

Before we had recorded music or broadcast radio, the industry relied upon song writers selling sheet music, in the hope their compositions would get performed in theatres and concert halls – and audiences would want to buy copies of the songs to perform at home.

Then, radio largely killed the music hall, and with the advent of the 7″ vinyl record, together they eventually displaced the reliance on sheet music sales. From the early 1960s onwards, we also saw more artists writing, performing and recording their own material, which transformed both music publishing and the record industry itself.

Although record labels still exist as a means to identify, develop and commercialise new talent, only three of the so-called major labels have survived – a process of industry consolidation and M&A activity that began in earnest in the 1980s – ironically, a period now regarded as a “Golden Age” of pop music.

A key legacy of the punk movement of the 1970s was a network of independent music labels, distributors, publishers and retailers – along with a strong DIY ethic of self-released records and independent fanzines, thanks to lower production costs and easier access to manufacturing and distribution.

Now, there is more new music being released than is humanly possible to listen to. It is relatively quick and simple to produce and release your own music – record on a home laptop (even a tablet or smart phone will do), upload the finished mp3 files to user-accessible platforms such as Bandcamp and SoundCloud, and promote yourself on social media. However, without significant marketing dollars to buy an audience, those hoping to become an overnight viral sensation may be disappointed. And even if you do manage to get traction on one of the global streaming platforms, the income from digital plays is a fraction of what artists used to earn from physical sales.

So that’s how the major labels (and some of the larger independents) still manage to dominate the industry: they have the budget to spend on developing new talent, and they have money for marketing campaigns (and possibly to influence those streaming algorithms). Plus, they have access to a huge back catalogue that they can carry on repackaging at a fraction of the original production costs.

It’s also true, however, that the shorter shelf-life of many newer artists means that labels don’t have such an appetite for long-term development plans, where they are willing to nurture a new talent for several years, before expecting a return on their initial investment. Just as with fast fashion, the pop music industry has become hooked on a fast turnover of product, because they know only a fraction of new releases will ever become a hit, and they have to keep feeding the beast with new content.

Which brings me back to programs like Idol. First, it’s one way for the music industry to fast-track their next success. Second, it literally is a popularity contest – the industry gets an idea of what the public likes, so they can pre-determine part of their release schedule. Third, hosting these contests on commercial TV means advertising dollars and sponsorship deals can help defray their A&R and marketing costs (or, at least help them to prioritise where to spend their money).

But let’s not pretend that these singing shows are nothing more than televised karaoke. Performers don’t get to play their own songs, or even play any instruments (as far as I can tell). The program content relies on cover versions – usually songs that are well-known, and therefore already road-tested on the audience. Plus, by choosing to perform a particular song, a contestant may hope to win by association or identification with the successful artist who originally recorded it. But contestants are not free to choose whatever song they like – my understanding is there are only 1,000 (popular) songs to choose from, just like karaoke.

In pretending to discover new talent, in part, the industry is simply hoping to re-release songs in their back catalogue, albeit with a new face on the record. Through the restrictive format of these programs, the industry is not discovering new musicians or finding new song writers and composers, and it’s certainly not forging any new direction in music, because of the reliance upon an existing formula, and dependence on a very specific (and somewhat narrow) strand of pop music.

Next week: Eat The Rich?

 

It’s Only A Game…

“90 minutes of madness” is how the ABC described Australia’s latest batting collapse during the current Test series in India.

Much of the local, angst-ridden media commentary suggested that Australia’s batsmen threw the game away, as if they had “snatched defeat from the jaws of victory”.

True, most of the Australian players came unstuck playing a particular stroke that is not normally part of their natural Test-match technique. (Although it has become de rigueur in the T20 form of the game.) But even if the sweep shot was their agreed tactic against India’s spin bowlers, they forgot the two guiding principles of successful Test batting:

1) Play your natural game as much as possible;

But also:

2) Play according to the actual conditions (not according to prior expectations)

No doubt there will be calls for selection reviews, more enforced net sessions, and even suggestions that some of the team should be dropped for good – either because their time has come (in relation to a few senior players), or because the experiment has failed (in respect of recent choices). But there probably won’t be a call to cull any of the team’s leadership, given the tumult of the past few years. The present captain seems both a pretty likeable person and a professional player – unlike some of his recent predecessors, the continued presence of whom casts a shadow over the Australian team.

None of which really acknowledges that however badly Australia performed, they were simply out-classed and out-played by their opponents. Failure to realise this fact perpetuates the notion that the opposition can never be as good as, let alone better than, the men in baggy green. And it reinforces the arrogant belief that Australia is somehow invincible, and only loses when it trips over its own self-confidence.

Of course, like any professional sport, cricket is just a game, and the top players get paid handsomely to train, travel overseas and turn up to hit a ball around. And like any job, you can sometimes have a bad day in the office…

Next week: Compulsory maths?