Back when I was at Rice University in the mid-1970s I was told that journalism was a noble profession.
It may be noble, but it’s no profession.
Even at Northwestern’s Medill School, where I received a year of training before being tossed into the world in 1978, I knew different. It’s a trade, the teachers told me there. They insisted I not call them “professor.” Journalism is a job. It’s writing for someone who buys ink by the barrel.
The problem with the journalism business is that it’s still locked in that mindset. Even after the print business is long dead, journalism is still measured by advertising linked to dead trees. There’s a reason for this. The business refused to adapt.
When people began seeking information online, a quarter century ago, journalism did not come along for the ride. I feel the blame. I knew then, after a decade covering the Internet, just how we should move forward, and I wrote about it. I asked publishers, “How hungry are you,” suggesting they seek commission income from business partners rather than selling billboards.
No one listened.
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