ISSUES & IDEAS

The Age of Convulsions

Surely, for the media, this is the Age of something. But what? How about the Age of Convulsions?

by William Powers

Sat. May 3, 2008


It's all the rage to have an Age. The economy has the Age of Turbulence. In foreign affairs, this is the Age of Nonpolarity. In real estate, it's the Age of Foreclosure. The list goes on.

The media play a big role in the naming and popularizing of Ages. Yet, strangely, media people don't have an Age to call their own. This is unconscionable, given all that's happening right now.

Newspapers and other old media are on the ropes! Nobody, not even a $15 million anchor, knows how to pull in an audience anymore--except Google and Oprah, who control all audiences in the known universe.

Surely this is the Age of something. But what? How do you sum up a business that is writhing on the floor and apparently in its death throes but may just be having a little panic attack? Is there a word that captures all of the horror and hysteria of this scene?

Here's my proposal: The Age of Convulsions.

Dictionary.com defines "convulsion" as a noun with three principal meanings. Let's take them one at a time.

Convulsion, 1: contortion of the body caused by violent, involuntary muscular contractions of the extremities, trunk, and head.

This is exactly what is happening to so many of our great newspapers, magazines, and television networks. The poor things are being contorted by violent and completely involuntary contractions in circulation, ratings, and ad dollars. These contractions are affecting not just the far-flung extremities of these vast organizations (the foreign bureaus, the obit desk) but also the most senior producers and editors (the trunk) as well as the corporate chieftains (the head). They see stories such as the cruelly headlined one that appeared on Forbes.com this week--"Timber! Newspaper Circulation Falls Again"--and immediately get the shakes.

Convulsion, 2: violent agitation or disturbance; commotion.

This refers to the air of Chicken Little foreboding that has settled over the news business. Inside the sanctums of traditional media, there really is a feeling of violent agitation out on the street, a commotion that spells trouble. It's all dark chatter and nightmare scenarios, such as:

a) We're all moving to the Internet, and once we're there, nobody's going to make money. This is ridiculous. The best content always draws an audience, no matter the medium. We're still reading Homer all these centuries later and paying nicely those who print his words between two covers. There will be Internet analogues, and they will be profitable.

b) We're all moving to the Internet, and once we're there, only bad people are going to make money. This is the satanic-forces view, which holds that all media outlets will eventually be controlled by greedy moguls vending cheesy tabloid fare. Every single news story on the planet will mention Lindsay Lohan or Hannah Montana. This is just as silly. There are all kinds of people in the media, with all kinds of motives. Some do very well with trash, and others do very well with quality. There will always be an audience for both, and both will thrive online. And, in the long run, each group will reap exactly what it sows. In the media, as in life itself, character is still destiny.

Convulsion, 3: an outburst of great, uncontrollable laughter.

There is nothing overtly funny about the current crisis of the media. But if you take just a few steps back from whatever happens to be the drama of the hour, it does begin to look like a farce--and a very funny one. I mean, here we are in the midst of an epic transformation in human expression and communication, the kind of thing that happens once every few centuries, at best. And the craft and business that should be exulting in--and leading--this thrilling upheaval is ... deeply depressed?

I'm taking a leave from column-writing for a while to write a book. When I return, I hope the media are laughing again.