Markets and Readers

MASS MEDIA

The United Kingdom possesses one of the most universally respected and widely read national presses. According to Brian McNair (1999), 80 percent of adults regularly read at least one national daily newspaper (not necessarily every day), and 75 percent read a Sunday edition. In addition, despite growing fears among many journalists and academics about the consequences increased concentration of ownership and the growing ability of governments to "spin" the media, the British press remains one of the freest and most diverse in the world.

Compared to the United States, where papers based in a few large cities exert the most influence, in Britain the local and regional press takes a clear backseat to the London-based national press. The leading papers' access to a national market makes them among the best-selling newspapers in the world. The main titles in the national daily press appear in the mornings; many local dailies appear in the evening.

History

England's first news periodicals, called corantos, circulated in the 1620s. During the next few decades, English notions of the liberty of the press began to develop, and with them visions of the press as the bulwark of freedom against would-be tyrants. This vision helped to inspire more than a century of reform movements that resulted in the gradual elimination of state repression of the press. The most important of these developments include the 1694 act removing pre-publication censorship; Fox's Libel Act in 1792, which placed the verdict in libel trials squarely in juries' hands; and the repeal of paper, advertising, and newspaper stamp taxes, the so-called "Taxes on Knowledge," between 1853 and 1861. This long series of reforms, which came only after numerous popular campaigns, including a "war of the unstamped" (and hence illegal) press in the 1830s, reflected and reinforced a growing tradition of formal newspaper independence from the state that continues to influence journalists at the beginning of the twenty-first century.

Daily newspapers in the nineteenth century typically consisted of four to eight pages of closely typed columns of often-verbatim reports of parliamentary debates or speeches by prominent statesmen. The most influential paper in the mid-century was the London Times. Following the repeal of the "Taxes on Knowledge," a provincial press flourished, as new titles joined such older papers as the Manchester Guardian and Yorkshire Post. Combined with London papers, such as the Morning Post and the new Daily Telegraph , a sober and editorially diverse press existed that some observers have pointed to as a "golden age" for the British press. These titles coexisted with more popular (and initially less respectable) Sunday papers such as Reynolds News and Lloyd's Weekly News. During most of the nineteenth century, newspapers wore their partisanship like a badge of honor; this feature was as typical of The Times in the 1850s as it was of the Northern Star , the newspaper of the radical working-class Chartist movement in the 1840s.

In the later decades of the century, in an effort to expand circulations and stimulated by changing ownership patterns and growing literacy rates, newspaper editors increasingly incorporated reader-friendly changes such as headlines, illustrations, interviews, and what would now be called human interest stories. "Views" gave way to news. Stories became shorter; columns gave way to paragraphs. These developments had precedents in American journalism. Defenders of these changes argued that they merely recognized the importance of the world beyond parliament; by aiming to satisfy readers' preferences, they were democratizing the press. Critics bemoaned the demise of the press's educational role and feared for the social consequences of the "New Journalism."

Alongside newspapers, throughout the nineteenth century, a thriving (and growing) body of periodicals existed, ranging from august titles such as the Edinburgh Review and Fortnightly Review , which spoke to the "questions of the day" to professional journals such as the Lancet (a medical journal) or the English Historical Review; to recreational titles such as the Sporting Magazine ; to "penny dreadfuls" whose supposedly harmful effects on working-class readers preoccupied many moralists.

As the nineteenth century progressed, it became clear that, under the right circumstances, the press could be very profitable. Particularly with the growth of consumerism in the second half of the nineteenth century, advertising became an important source of revenue for newspapers. This development helped to increase the importance of high circulations.

Alfred Harmsworth is often credited with creating the modern popular press, particularly with the creation of the Daily Mail in 1896. Selling for a halfpenny when other papers cost a penny, this paper became, during the Boer War (1899-1902), the first to attain a daily circulation of one million. Harmsworth founded other papers, including the Daily Mirror in 1903. Originally pitched at female readers, it was reinvented in 1904 as a mass-market news pictorial and reached a circulation of 1.2 million by the outbreak of World War I in 1914. Ennobled as Lord Northcliffe in 1905, Harmsworth steadily built his newspaper empire, climaxing in 1908 with his acquisition of The Times . He became the archetypal "press baron," using his papers to attain influence over the government. For example, he has been widely credited with bringing down the Asquith government in 1916. In addition to his political interests, however, he was the consummate businessman, employing stunts to spike sales.

The first three decades of the twentieth century saw the continuing concentration of the press into fewer hands. Following Lord Northcliffe's death in 1922, the British press was dominated by four men: Lord Beaver-brook, Lord Rothermere (Northcliffe's brother), William Berry (later Lord Camrose), and Gomer Berry (later Lord Kemsley). The popular press seemed increasingly commercialized, culminating in the "circulation war" of the early 1930s. The Daily Mail and Daily Express had offered insurance to subscribers throughout the 1920s, spending a million pounds per year by 1928. By the early 1930s, even the relatively sober Daily Herald had entered the fray. The three papers employed door-to-door canvassers to entice subscribers with gifts; these canvassers accounted for 40 percent of all press employees by 1934. Gifts included flannel trousers, cameras, kettles, handbags, and tea sets. This method of gaining circulation by bribery reflected the ever-growing importance of advertising as a revenue source; newspapers sought to attract circulation any way they could, in order to impress advertisers.

Markets and Readers

The twentieth century witnessed the ongoing conflict between lingering nineteenth-century ideals and the press's increasingly commercial environment. Over the course of the century, the press solidified into three distinct markets in the daily and Sunday national press: quality, middle market, and mass market. The quality press, including The Times , the Guardian (descendant of the Manchester Guardian ), the Daily Telegraph , the Independent , and the Financial Times , is published in a broadsheet format, while the middle market (including the Daily Mail and Daily Express ) and mass market (including the Daily Mirror and the Sun ) are published in tabloid format. A similar distinction exists on Sundays, with qualities ( Independent on Sunday , Observer Sunday Times , and Sunday Telegraph ), middle market ( Sunday Express and Mail on Sunday ), and mass market ( News of the World , People Mirror ).

These markets split across class lines and produced papers with distinctive qualities. Nearly 90 percent of the upmarket dailies' readers are considered middle class, compared to only about 30 percent of the downmarket dailies' readers. In 1995 daily newspaper sales were approximately 20 percent upmarket, 27 percent midmarket, and 53 percent mass market. Corresponding Sunday sales were approximately 17 percent upmarket, 22 percent midmarket, and 61 percent mass market. This distribution represents a dramatic shift during the second half of the twentieth century. In 1937, the daily breakdown was 8 percent upmarket, 72 percent midmarket, and 20 percent mass market; the Sunday breakdown had been 3 percent, 36 percent, and 61 percent (Tunstall). The increase in share for the quality press, at the expense of the middle market, reflects increased educational levels in Britain combined with television's greater challenge to the middle market.

General Quality

More than size, editorial content distinguishes the markets. A larger number of broadsheets' stories focus more directly on politics than is the case with tabloids, and many stories in the broadsheets contain more than 800 words. Tunstall provides a vivid description of the downmarket tabloids:

[They] focus on light news, the entertaining touch, and human interest; this in practice means focusing on crime, sex, sport, television, showbusiness, and sensational human interest stories. There is an overwhelming emphasis on personalities; such 'serious' news as is covered is often presented via one personality attacking another personality. Much material in these papers is 'look-at' material—there are many pictures, big headlines, and the advertising also is mainly display, which again involves pictures and big headlines. The remainder of the tabloid is 'quick read' material with most stories running to less than 400 words.

Substantial political coverage disappeared from the popular press during the second half of the twentieth century. Many critics argue that the resulting depoliticized popular press promotes escapist attitudes that ultimately reinforce the political status quo.

Although sensationalism in the press is not a new phenomenon, many critics have claimed that the tabloids of the 1970s and 1980s, particularly Murdoch's Sun and News of the World , introduced a qualitatively lower brand. In an effort to increase circulation, the tabloids introduced "checkbook" journalism, i.e., the purchasing of exclusive stories from disturbing sources. For example, the wife of the notorious serial killer, the "Yorkshire Ripper," was reportedly paid more for her story than the victims' families received in damages. In addition, shortly after Murdoch purchased the Sun in 1969, it began to use sex to increase circulation, most notably by presenting semi-nude women on page three; other tabloids followed suit. Other recent tabloid characteristics that have attracted criticism include fabrication and intensely invasive reporting (including rooting through celebrities' and politicians' garbage cans for evidence of sexual deviance, taking clandestine photographs on private property, and even "entrapment," for example, with prostitutes).

Initially brisk sales encouraged these trends. By the early 1990s, however, many readers were increasingly disturbed by these excesses, a sentiment that was reinforced by the role of paparazzi in Princess Diana's fatal automobile accident. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, tabloid investigations of celebrities' private lives seem to have become marginally less aggressive. In addition, the tabloid market has been declining, resulting in cutthroat price wars, with several tabloids selling temporarily for 10p per issue. In 2002, the Mirror appeared to be attempting to reposition itself in the middle market; its coverage of politics, for example, had become more substantial and serious.

Despite the professionalization of journalism from the late nineteenth century and increased reliance on news agencies for copy, British newspapers deliberately retain traditions of overt partisanship that would be considered unacceptable in the United States. For much of the period since World War II, most national papers, representing the vast preponderance of circulation, supported the Conservative Party. This ownership was not seen as reflecting readers' preferences, as the Labour Party won at least 45 percent of the vote throughout the period. After the mid-1990s, most papers (including Murdoch's) shifted their support to Tony Blair's Labor Party, though this support seemed conditional. Despite high levels of partisanship, the national press remained editorially independent of the parties, rather than constituting party organs.

Britain's broadsheet papers enjoy worldwide respect, particularly The Times . At the same time, however, critics worry about recent evidence of their "tabloidization," specifically the disappearance of the parliamentary report and the turn toward more features-oriented stories. Barnett and Gaber cite a study by journalist David McKie, showing that in four broadsheet papers, The Times , the Daily Telegraph, the Guardian , and the Financial Times , the amount of parliamentary reporting dropped by over 70 percent between 1946 and 1996, from a weekly average of 11,443 column inches to 3,222 column inches. The focus of political reporting shifted to sketchwriting, emphasizing personalities as well as the "machinery of government," especially when "government incompetence, corruption and plain misguided policies" could be exposed (Barnett and Gaber). Defenders of these changes point out that in the early 2000s parliamentary proceedings were televised and that Hansard's record of the proceedings was available on the Internet, thus obviating the need for newspapers to fill this role. More to the point, it was widely perceived that parliamentary reporting did not aid in the pursuit of circulation.

In addition to tabloidization, some critics believe that the British press does not attain as high a standard of accuracy as its U.S. counterparts. George Kennedy wrote in the Columbia Journalism Review that the British press was prone to "spectacular gaffes," a result of an emphasis on speed and exclusivity. Kennedy pointed out that the U.S. wire service, the Associated Press, is "particularly hesitant to pick up material from the national newspapers unless it can be independently confirmed." The editor of the British-based digest Web site, Need to Know , stated the case even more strongly. Because of British journalism's weaker emphasis on professionalism, "if all the facts are right in a British newspaper article, it's either because we're scared of a libel case, or it's a fluke" (Lasica). This reputation for occasional lapses of accuracy may help to account for the finding in the European Commission's April 2002 Eurobarometer that whereas British trust in television was among the highest in the EU at 71 percent who "tend to trust the television," trust in the press was the lowest in the EU at only 20 percent. Britain's low trust in the press compared poorly to an EU average of over 40 percent, but it was more than 5 percentage points higher than Britain's score of a year before.

Date: 2016-03-03; view: 864