Reflections on Reflections of a Newsosaur

There's a great little piece by Priya Kumar in the latest American Journalism Review about the author of the popular journalism blog Reflections of a Newsosaur, Alan Mutter.

There was one "turning point" moment for Mutter in the story that struck me as curious. It goes like this:

The San Francisco Chronicle then hired Mutter to infuse the competitive spirit into a sleepy newsroom that some compared to a cruise ship. Mutter emphasized local news and investigative work.

The staff was talented and capable, Mutter says, but their chops had been dulled. He recalls asking one reporter to turn in a story by 5 that afternoon. Taken aback, the reporter said he had never reported and written a story in the same day.

"Well, today you will," Mutter replied.

Judging by the narrative, that was in the late 1980s. Reading this, though, I thought to myself: I don't know a single young journalist right now that can't turn in a story in a day.

In fact, perhaps even more than one story in a day.

Want to be taken aback in a post-blog world? Assign a story and ask a reporter to turn it in in a month -- or two, or three.

Now that's shocking.

(I strongly recommend regularly reading Alan's blog. He is, in many ways, the Seth Godin of the journalism world.)

New media reality check: The skills you really need in the real world

I've had several people e-mail me with the following question:

"I'm a print/magazine/broadcast student, but I want to get into new media. What courses should I take/which j-school should I go to/how should I prepare so that I can get a job when I graduate? You were a new media student, Ed. Tell me -- how can I get hired?"

If you were wondering the same thing, you're not alone. As the economy tanks and media outlets of all persuasions cut back, lay off or refuse to hire, I'd be nervous, too. (And I was.) Everyone and their mother is telling you that you need new media skills to compete.

You must be a one-man-band of multimedia glory, they say. You simply aren't a journalist unless you're carrying a laptop, camera, camcorder, pen and pad all at once!

Shaking in your boots yet? You ought to be. Because there are very few people that can do that job.

The good news is that it probably won't be you. As new media has increased in popularity and usage, this myth has populated of the multi-talented reporter -- you know, the one carrying all the gear a few paragraphs back. And while it's certainly an ideal, it's not a necessity. In fact, it's barely a reality.

Thus brings my first point of this New Media Reality Check: most news organizations simply don't operate that way.

Do you remember how Henry Ford became famous? He did it with the Model-T, which was innovative because it was built on an assembly line. So instead of one worker needing to know how to put together an automobile from start to finish, workers were trained to be very good at one specific thing -- putting on a wheel, or attaching a transmission to an engine, or checking for defects. It made the process more efficient in both cost and speed.

The same thing applies to publications, moreso as it gets bigger. Whether the publication in question is a newspaper or a magazine or a radio/TV station or a website, the assembly line theory of the Industrial Age still holds true: a writer reports and creates the story, an editor edits it, a photographer shoots art for it, a production editor lays out a template for the story to appear and another editor (or two) looks at the entire package, all while being fact-checked and copy-edited by another person dedicated to that task.

As you can see, no one person does it all -- the photographer sticks to his or her camera, the reporter sticks to his or her story and the production editor doesn't typically interject his or her opinion about the reportage. Each person is a cog in the machine -- the bigger the machine, the more cogs, and vice-versa.

So how did we come to expect a journalist to do the same thing?

The reality is that, in most newsgathering organizations, you will have a specialized task. Maybe you'll be an interactive producer, spending your days working with Adobe Flash (in which case, you probably have a computer science degree.) Maybe you'll spend your days producing slideshows and simple infographics. Maybe you'll blog. But you'll rarely do them all.

So here is my second point of the New Media Reality Check -- my advice to journalists looking to get in on the new media game:

If you're just starting out j-school or a similar educational program, think about what you'd like to do when you graduate. Do you want to work in broadcast television? Do you want to work online? Do you want to work in print? Radio? Whatever it is you think you want to do, pursue the skills needed for that field within your studies. It's that simple. If you want to dabble in other skills, that's fine. But you don't have to as an online journalism prerequisite.

If you're already a journalist, or you're in a print-specific educational track (newspaper, magazine, etc.), consider where you want to end up, job-wise. Do you want to be a photo/video journalist or interactive producer? Then you'll have to attain specific skills, via a proper class or a dedicated friend (or yourself, if you have time). Do you want to simply be able to write online and be comfortable with the Web? Good news -- my advice to you is the following: Don't return to j-school, and don't take a course.

That's right. Instead, start a blog. (You can do so here or here, among other places.)

A blog isn't a diary anymore. It's parlance for a type of publishing platform -- you now have the very machinations of a publication at your fingertips, for free. Once you start one, start playing around in the HTML editor of each post. Start reading about CSS once you've got a handle on HTML and its code snippets called "tags." And post about something on your beat. Or journalism. It doesn't matter.

That's it! You now know everything needed to work online. Seriously.

For most online journalism, all you need to know is how to blog and how to use a CMS, or content management system. That's it. What does that entail, exactly? Allow me to lay it out for you:

How to blog

Know how to write a story in Microsoft Word or on paper? Great! That's 90 percent of what you need to know to blog. Seriously. If you can write with clarity and an engaging demeanor on first draft -- which I believe is the skill to have in 21st century journalism -- you're already ahead of most people.

What about the last 10 percent? Well, the first 5 percent is learning basic HTML. For example, the little pieces of code, or tags, that allow you to bold and italicize and insert an image (which you may have to size appropriately). You may be able to do this using a "visual editor," which doesn't show tags, but you should learn how they work. That five-minute lesson will save you when something goes awry as you write.

The last 5 percent? Getting over the mental hurdle of hitting the "publish" button. Some publications have bloggers who are edited; others don't. And it has nothing to do with how big or prominent the publication is, either. So whether you're writing a column or a piece of investigative reporting, there's a good chance you'll have to publish it yourself, live to the website. All it takes is pressing "publish," but you'd be surprised how many journalists don't realize that they have that power at their fingertips -- and even more surprised at how many refuse to use it.

How to use a CMS (content management system)

This is actually a trick question. The thing is, CMSes are proprietary -- meaning they vary from publication to publication. Many larger publications have their own customized CMS. Some combine a CMS with a blog publishing platform! (You'd be surprised at how many sites/outlets are in this group.)

In other words, there's no way you can learn something that only applies to a single publication. And neither can online journalists who work elsewhere! If you, esteemed print journalist, and I, online journalism fan, both apply for the same job, we're pretty much in the same boat when it comes to that publication's CMS.

So what should you do? You started that blog I told you to sign up for above, right? Good -- a blog is a kind of CMS, so by filling out the "headline" and the "tags" and other fields, you were doing the exact same thing you would do in a CMS. Really!

Congratulations. You're an online journalist!

Pretty easy, huh? Notice I didn't mention anything about splicing video in Final Cut Pro or Avid, or mixing audio in Pro Tools or Audacity, or using Adobe Flash. Perhaps you'll use Photoshop, but likely only to resize images.

That. Is. It.

Allow me to repeat: you will not use any of these expensive, complex tools for the majority of online journalism jobs. You may down the line, but it's exceedingly rare that anyone will expect you to have prior knowledge of any of those skills.

I spent much of my "new media" journalism time playing with Adobe Flash and Final Cut Pro. The thing is, I didn't take a job doing interactive or video production -- so believe it or not, I haven't cracked either program since I finished my formal education. None of it truly had any bearing on my job prospects, and by the time I'm shopping around for my next job, I'll be so many years out of the loop that I won't be able to rely on those skills if I decide to switch.

I'll be honest, I did enjoy playing with those programs late into the night, because I learned a lot about myself and how I learn things. But I didn't need them to work online, which I currently do full-time (as in, when the Internet is out, I cannot work).

What I do wish is that I had spent more time learning lower-hanging skill fruit -- CSS, which is a coding language similar to HTML, and formal design and layout classes, because I'd like to produce my own online publication beyond The Ed. CSS and design skills are far less specific, and much more widespread in their use (and helpful in their implementation), than Adobe Flash or Final Cut Pro (for the typical online journalist). Period.

So: you wanna be an online journalist? If you haven't started yet, plan accordingly. If you have, skip the formal classes and start a blog. Then stop calling yourself a print journalist -- because we're all online journalists now.

The problem with magazines à la carte

When Time Inc. first announced its plans to offer its magazine content à la carte, called "Mine," my first thought was that it was catching up with the times. After all, isn't that what people do on the Web? Pull what they deem the best from several different (and sometimes competing) publications?

But instead of posting, I thought I'd sit on the idea for awhile and let it stew on the backburner of my brain. It's never wise to rail against or praise a business model in a knee-jerk kind of way -- these things are often more complicated then they appear, and business models are chock full of competing interests.

Now that I've had some time to think about it, it occurs to me that with "Mine," certain magazine staff are getting the short end of the stick.

First, let me explain how Time's offering works. The consumer gets to pick five titles from the Time Inc. stable -- the largest in the business -- and soon that reader gets tailored issues pulling content (or stories, in the printed parlance) that matches his or her interests. 

Interested in the executive life? You'll probably get material from Time, Money, Golf, Food & Wine and Travel + Leisure. If you're more a fashionable jet-setter, perhaps a combination of Real Simple, InStyle, Travel + Leisure, Time and Golf. 

You get the idea.

Curiously, some titles that would match others are left out of the mix: Fortune. Coastal Living. People. Essence. Entertainment Weekly. Wallpaper*. Cooking Light. This Old House. Et cetera.

I suspect that decision is threefold: to avoid pillaging the company's entire portfolio; to keep subscribers of several magazines (it's likely that a Money subscriber already also gets Fortune; a similar possibility exists for Travel + Leisure and Coastal Living) subscribing to distinct publications; and to make sure that advertiser dollars are coming in without them trying to shortchange established rates for individual publications. 

Whatever the reason, though, I don't like it. It seems to be a massive convenience for the user, but it really takes away from the point of a magazine. And that's what gives me pause. 

Magazines are powerful because they are packages. Whereas newspapers are intended to deliver information quickly, magazines are intended to be leisurely read, analytical (or, at the very least, big picture) and a form of entertainment. They are less an information vehicle as a leisure activity, so much as information can be entertainment.

A big part of that "package" is the design, layout and story selection of the magazine. A big part of editors' (and publishers') jobs is to make sure that the magazine flows from cover to cover. It's not a piecemeal exercise. Magazines are, by their nature, a curated collection.

So while magazines a la carte seems appropriate in a world of RSS feeds and customizable content delivery, it's really at odds with the very nature of a magazine. It turns magazine content into, well, content -- separating it from the infrastructure that a magazine issue provides. And that's a problem for the editorial and business departments alike.

I've previously criticized magazines for not jumping on the Web sooner and in a better fashion. My argument was that they were missing a great branding opportunity, a great chance to extend the brand with far less overhead than a spinoff publication (Vogue Living, I'm looking at you). There's no reasonable limit to how much content can be produced on the Web. And the price of ink and paper doesn't even factor into it.

Of course, the challenge of the Web is in reproducing the perfected magazine form in a new medium. So when I look at this a la carte service -- which eschews planning altogether, reducing magazine content to words -- I cringe. 

And that's exactly what Time Inc.'s "Mine" is -- unplanned. It's offered to you in printed form or via online delivery to your inbox. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing either form (Time Inc. doesn't offer you a preview without you handing over all of your vitals), but I can't see it being a successful publication in its own right. The content is generally disconnected from itself, it may overlap and it, in all likelihood, has little flow to it. It's a very utilitarian approach, which is at odds with magazines as entertainment. They're simply not necessary to live. They're just nice to have.

The "Mine" endeavor smacks of marketing, and very little of editorial. There's nothing wrong with that on the face of it, but if the company wants to effectively create a new publication, it will need oversight. And it takes at least half a traditional magazine staff just to curate previously-published content in a way that it could fit together. Even then, the fit isn't perfect.

Above all, new endeavors must pass a simple litmus test: does it solve a problem? (Or does it make enough money that it doesn't matter?) I see neither of these options. By offering "Mine," Time Inc. is backhandedly shunning the work its editors and art directors for the (likely freelance) writers. It doesn't solve the magazines-on-the-Web problem; it doesn't solve the declining print circulation (and thus ad revenue/pages) problem. 

So what's a publishing house to do? Well, in a global economic downturn like this, it's to make sure its portfolio (and thus its staff) is lean and mean, both in printed and digital forms. "Mine" just strikes me as fatty excess, even though it appears to be a cost-saving way to reuse content.

With such limited appeal, exposure and choice on the part of the consumer, I doubt any "magazines à la carte" solution has the legs to stand the test of time. With "Mine," you can have it.

A word about Columbia J-School's 'Existential Crisis'

Former New York Sun editor Erica Orden wrote an interesting post today on New York magazine's Daily Intel blog entitled "Columbia J-School’s Existential Crisis," detailing the difficulties that the school is having adjusting to what it calls a "new media mindset."

Orden writes:

The media bloodbath hasn’t made for happy days at Columbia Journalism School. When the Times recently announced that its new, hyperlocal blog experiment “The Local” would be assisted by journalism students not from Columbia but from the City University of New York, you could practically hear the collective gasp echoing in the hallowed halls uptown. CUNY? Since when does CUNY trump Columbia? Well, since digital journalism became the single ray of hope on an otherwise dark media horizon, and Columbia’s vaunted ability to train students as print reporters began to appear obsolete. And so the school is trying to change. Fast.

To back up that statement, Orden notes the arrival of Bill Grueskin, former managing editor of WSJ.com, and the upcoming change in curriculum to focus more on digital endeavors -- which has, according to Orden, "raised the ire of some professors, particularly those closely tied to Columbia’s crown jewel, RW1."

“Fuck new media,” the coordinator of the RW1 program, Ari Goldman, said to his RW1 students on their first day of class, according to one student. Goldman, a former Times reporter and sixteen-year veteran RW1 professor, described new-media training as “playing with toys,” according to another student, and characterized the digital movement as “an experimentation in gadgetry.”

Orden goes on, accurately and with great detail, as to the "zero-sum" struggle of new media vs. old media resources; of hiring professors who know the former better than the latter and training those who know the latter and not the former.

Orden details the struggle at Columbia deftly:

Part of the problem is the perception that the situation is a “a zero-sum game,” as one person put it, where adding lessons in video production or law for bloggers will dilute or displace the school’s long-heralded focus on journalism’s core precepts: concise prose, ethical reporting, and sophisticated editorial sensibilities.

But the hurdles are practical as well as philosophical. Because many of the tenured professors haven’t worked in new media themselves, their classes require the addition of tech-savvy adjuncts, which has Lemann worried about “blowing out the budget.”

Orden wraps up the story with a sentiment I think all of us can agree on: that the real issue isn’t whether j-schools can afford to change, but that they can’t afford not to.

I believe this article reveals, faithfully, the administrative and honest struggle that journalism schools are having coping with a sudden rush of new media. The temptation to "dive in" headfirst without figuring out how to apply it, or without looking at return on investment for new storytelling methods. The struggle to convince "old media" journalism professors that new media is worthwhile, and vice-versa. 

It's a game of politics, but I think everyone is equally concerned for the same reasons: j-schools must continue cranking out the best journalists. But how?

I believe this article is framed incorrectly, however. The meat of the article is accurate, but the lede and the style used to make the point is misleading.

I've written before about my experience in the new media program at Columbia, and I mean in no way to be an apologist or defender of Orden's claims about the school. But I feel the obligation to clarify some of her inferences about and references to the school using the reality I experienced there.

• The CUNY vs. Columbia "slight" in the lede is a creative way to play off Columbia's establishment position as the training ground for the New York Times, but Orden infers, without directly saying so, that Columbia has suddenly snapped out of its print mindset to catch up to the new media forerunners. 
  
  That's simply not true. The new media program has existed at Columbia, albeit in a much smaller form, since the 1990s. Much of its development is thanks to chief new media evangelist (and dean of students) Sree Sreenivasan, who has taught at the school since 1993. The program has evolved over time with the technology it covers, and has in recent years seen a noticeable bump in students who apply for the "new media" program. So it seems to me that the program has changed to address student demands, rather than trends in journalism directly.

• Secondly, Orden credits Grueskin with that change, who arrived on June 4, 2008. I don't know firsthand just how much Grueskin has contributed behind the scenes. What I can say, however, is that the curriculum change for new media students was in the works long before he arrived, because Sreenivasan showed us a working draft of it sometime late that spring. 
  

• As for RW1 -- Columbia's core reporting class, the nuts and bolts course -- Columbia "webified" the course for the first time for the school year 2007-2008, adding a content management system so that students could post their stories. Many of the difficulties Orden details about convincing old-time professors certainly do exist. However, Orden singles out one professor as an example of the skepticism -- and I must take issue with that. 
  
  I had the pleasure of taking a course from the professor that was singled out, and we produced a fine website for the class. In no way was my imagination limited by the professor with regard to that site. It's true that several professors at Columbia are new media tone deaf. And why should they be anything different? Some of them, particularly those of an advanced age, don't have a perceived need to be trained in new media. But that's not to say they aren't receptive to using it, even if they don't understand how to do it. 
  
  What's more, to debunk one of my own points, some of the oldest professors at Columbia are actively involved in the new media program. And I think that shows a lot of heart and willingness to learn, if nothing more.

• Finally -- and most notably for Orden's lede -- the new media coordinator that she quotes was, prior to taking a full-time position at Columbia this past May, a new media adjunct at both CUNY Graduate School of Journalism and Columbia. For someone trying to start a new media war in her lede, that's a serious omission -- as are the other adjuncts who pull double-duty at both schools.
  

But Orden knows that -- she graduated from Columbia's j-school in 2006.

Still, I think the takeaway from Orden's post is far more valuable than the clarification I attempted to provide above. In every journalism school -- like as in every printed publication -- there's a generational, fight-or-flight, ROI-questioning debate about the place and weight with which we should approach new media and the storytelling techniques it provides. 

And for that reason, I believe we're all in this together -- it's not at all a race to be the "new media" king. Especially if the publications at the bleeding edge of adopting new media prefer computer science grads to journalism grads. 

Among j-school grads, I believe there's a kinship, a knowing bond that has developed from being in the experimental incubator together -- be it in New York, Missouri, California or Illinois (or Arizona, or Ohio, or...). From what I've seen, no one knows the answer to the great "new media" question -- especially j-schools. That's because the publications the schools are supposed to prepare their students for don't know, either. 

I don't want to appear as though I look through rosy lenses -- I have my criticisms of the journalism programs I have graduated from. But they seem to be far more prepared to handle the change than most of the publications I've worked for.

The policy is that there is no policy. As a journalist, I think that's wildly exciting.

UPDATE: Via Twitter, NYU's Jay Rosen directed me toward these meeting minutes from an NYU journalism school think session. It's a revealing look into what journalism educators are grappling with at this moment.

Tina Brown and the fight to save journalism

If you're a writer, get out of your comfort zone. 

If you're an editor, surround yourself with writers.

And if you're starting an online publication, do so with conviction. It will work.

Eventually.

Sage words from celebrated editor Tina Brown (Tatler, Vanity Fair, The New Yorker, Talk, and now The Daily Beast) last night at Columbia Journalism School's Delacorte Magazine Lecture, a weekly public lecture by notables in the publishing world put on by Victor Navasky of The Nation.

Brown's Daily Beast -- for which at least one friend of mine writes -- has been in the spotlight since its launch last fall. A new media venture by an old-media person, if you will.  An online pubication brave enough to not accept (interns aside) free work. A digital venture (questionably) backed by IAC's Barry Diller. 

But Brown revealed last night that the venture is very much her vehicle for figuring out how publishing can survive in a "free," online-only environment. Correction: not just survive, but thrive. And in this current state of media flux, it's exciting to me to know that someone is pursuing something with conviction, and not floundering about trying to stay afloat.

Highlights which I'd like to pass along to you, readers:

• Deploying narrative journalism on the web successfully is Brown's greatest challenge.
• The Daily Beast continues Brown's tradition of high/low coverage (or "class and trash," as I like to call it.)
• Some of her best writers didn't start as writers at all. Some of her best writers were passionate about topics they weren't writing about for a living. It was Brown's challenge -- and naturally, to her benefit -- to correct this. Example: Dominick Dunne, whom she told to keep a diary; Jeffrey Toobin, whom she simply gave enough time to develop his own (less-than-legalese) voice.
• Editors must "make their world writers," and surround themselves with them. They are immensely creative people, she said, and you must know their strengths and weaknesses and, of course, always have talent on hand.
• A big area for development is in-depth, feature-length business journalism. Not closing-bell coverage, but CEO profiles and such things. "Capture characters," she said. 
• The Daily Beast is doing what newsweeklies should be doing -- analysis and less breaking news coverage -- in the smart and intellectual way that Time, Newsweek and U.S. News & World Report are struggling to transition to at the moment. But, with the added benefit of linking off to the best of the web's stories.
• The advantage of analysis: "People are gadflies, but they're also obsessives." So while hopping on the breaking news train is fine, people are still drawn to long-form, in-depth analysis telling them something they didn't already know.
• "A good editor (at least, one in the vein of Tina Brown -- Ed.) likes a strong staff around them." Strong as in personality: "I have a terrible weakness for irritants."
• Working online is actually less stressful/anxiety-ridden than print, because there are much fewer moments when someone's piece is cut because of limited space. "It's more physically grueling, but it's not as stressful in terms of disappointing people."
• "It's so fashionable to trash the press all the time."
• On the theory behind paying writers and investing in them: "You have to invest in people." Unlike her big-budget Conde Nast days, Brown can't hire writers on contract anymore, so the web environment makes it harder to develop people and give them a financial safety net at the same time. On the other hand, limitless space is helpful in that regard.
• 2009 is the year of the freelancer. "The Gig Economy," she called it.
• The Daily Beast has started to solicit advertisers, which will be its main revenue stream. Ads will appear in the spring.
• On outsourcing journalism: "I think it's preposterous." 

Before attending, I knew little of Brown. I knew she and Arianna Huffington (The Huffington Post) were often cited as brash new editors-in-chief/publishers in the new media/online journalism world. I knew Brown had a fantastic pedigree. I knew she was British. 

But that's about it, honestly. So I was surprised when I heard these wise words come from someone who has been in the magazine business so long -- and who seemingly got into online publishing by necessity.

Brown spoke honestly and thoughtfully -- she wasn't there to publicize The Daily Beast, and didn't really reference it unless it was referred to in a question she was asked.

In listening to her opinions and advice, I came to respect her for this reason: she had a clear view of what she wanted and where she wanted it. An entrepreneur, she was pursuing publishing online, she wanted talented writers, she didn't want to cut corners nor spend funds happily. 

Personally, I don't like everything about The Daily Beast. (For one, I think its design, while adventurous, is a little hard to digest.). But I do now understand why things are the way they are on the site, and the thinking behind those decisions.

An old professor of mine likes to use the phrase, "Acts of commission, rather than acts of omission," when referencing online work. I can see that in operation at The Daily Beast.

Brown's vision may not be an ironclad business model, but it was her conviction that struck me. At a time when so many journalists -- newspapermen and women, freelance writers, editors, publishers, etc. -- are running to the next thing (blogs! Facebook! Twitter!) or just simply lamenting their own downfall (layoffs! cut pages! no ads!), I found it refreshing -- exciting, really -- to hear such a clear voice at such a cloudy time in journalism.

Did the NY Observer plagiarize a Radar trend story?

(Image: myownprivateidaho.com; Getty Images; outnow.com via Observer.com)

In today's New York Observer ran a saucy trend piece by Joe Pompeo titled "The Hipster Rent Boys Of New York," whose dek explains the story: "No more L train for us! In frigid economy, striving young men are turning to the oldest profession to make the city work for them."

In other words, prostitution among twentysomething, possibly-gay, Williamsburg, Brooklyn-inhabiting hipsters.

But a colleague of mine suggested that he had read this story somewhere else, not long ago...yes, that's it! It was in Radar's September issue, by Jessica Pilot, titled, "Secrets of a Hipster Hooker," with a dek that reads: "The author's friends are stylish, well-educated, and professionally successful young women in New York City. They also turn tricks on the side for $2,000 an hour. One day she decided to follow in their footsteps."

Now, the story isn't plagiarized in the most common sense, in that it's copied word-for-word. It's more an intellectual property plagiarism -- you know, running the same story in the same market in almost the same time frame (five months).

Any good editor would deny a reporter who came to him or her with this "idea." But did Pompeo copy Pilot? And who was reporting the story first?

Hard to say, and there are differences: Pilot's story is about women, whereas Pompeo's is about men. Pilot's story was written pre-recession; Pompeo's uses it as a motive for the prostitution.

So it's fair game, right?

Well, what if I told you they quote the same source as their token "expert"? (That would be Sudhir Venkatesh, a sociology professor at Columbia University whose expertise lies in high-end male and female escorts.)

What if they use the same obvious Eliot Spitzer-Ashley Dupre foil in the story?

Now what do you think?

For me, it's a little too close for comfort.

What does it take to be a multimedia journalist?

(Illustration: Steve Garfield)

I've had this discussion with a few people who currently practice in the general area that is "multimedia journalism." At the highest echelon, are you more journalist or programmer?

The New York Times' multimedia team explains in the latest Ask the Newsroom:

Aron Philofer:

As for learning these skills, there's some disagreement among those on my team with formal computer science backgrounds on whether taking computer science classes is worthwhile. Some say college courses are often too theoretical, but others believe that even the theory provides a solid foundation for problem solving. I wouldn't know because, like several other members of my team, I'm entirely self-taught. So I'm living proof that it's possible to learn enough to write a few production Web applications, manage a development team and not crash NYTimes.com (yet).

Gabriel Dance:

What I see far too often in journalism schools, and I feel is a mistake, is the idea that somebody can just learn computer programming in a semester or two. Developing interactives and projects on the Internet requires a love of computers and a deep interest in technology. Most of the time, people develop these skills on their own, or pursue a technology-related career. If you really feel that you want to be a journalist-programmer, I encourage you to take some courses in the computer science department. It will give you the foundation that you just can't get by taking a couple of Flash courses.

Steve Duenes:

The journalist portion of the journalist/programmer combination shouldn't be neglected. We've had a number of strong technological performers pass through our department, and some of them had difficulty knowing which information to pursue or how to pursue it efficiently. Some had interesting ideas, but they weren't able to fully articulate what they wanted to do, and as a consequence, they were frustrated when we had to make decisions about which graphics to go after.I'm not saying that a master's degree in journalism is the thing to do. It might be. But the important thing is to find an environment where you'll be pushed and where you can grow. If you're surrounded by a few people with good experience and if your internship or job requires you to behave like a journalist, that's good.

From my experience -- self-taught but not extensively so, thus better than the average new media graduate but poorer than the average programmer -- a journalism grad with new media experience is no longer the desired employee for the leading online publications (like the Times). More often, it is the programmer who took a few journalism courses, rather than the other way around.

The good news is that means the bar is much higher now, ever rising, and stories can and will be told with such depth and nuance thanks to a team that has mastered the tools needed to express them.

The bad news is that a new media journalism graduate who wants to work in multimedia won't be able to at the highest levels without some serious coding expertise under his or her belt. In other words: perhaps a master's degree in computer science will do you more good than one in journalism.