Here’s my annual state of things and predictions essay, 2008: Embracing the (Real) Web.

I like to stick with broad themes in forecasting media movement, because nobody really knows, with specificity, where things are going. We’re in the middle of profound change, and if I had all the answers, I’d be rich. I’m not (of course), but my track record has been pretty good, and it goes back a number of years. Here’s one sentence I wrote a year ago: “The most visible and obvious online media story of 2007 will be the shift of the internet’s center away from text and towards video.” Anybody want to argue with that?

My boss, Jerry Gumbert, says “2008 will be all about getting ready for 2009,” and I agree with him. ‘09 sends chills down the spines of every media company executive, but I think the fear is healthy, especially if it moves us to action. And that action must be in areas beyond our ad-supported content business models. The (Real) Web makes that possible. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.

May the new year bring you joy and prosperity.

The most bizarre story over the holiday weekend was the business of actor Will Smith and statements attributed to him by a Scottish newspaper.

The Anti-Defamation League released a statement saying that they “welcome and accept” Smith’s statement that Hitler was a “vicious killer” and that it’s clear that Smith didn’t intend for his Hitler remarks to be construed as praise. “He took immediate steps to clarify his words and unequivocally condemn Hitler as an evil person.”

Well, thank God THAT’s over.

Or is it?

This began with an interview with the Scottish newspaper the Daily Record, which quoted Smith as saying “Even Hitler didn’t wake up going, ‘Let me do the most evil thing I can do today.’” Some, including the ADL and other Jewish organizations, felt Smith was saying Hilter was basically a good guy — something no self-respecting person is even allowed to think.

So Smith went on the defensive and called it an outrageous lie, adding he was “incensed and infuriated to have to respond to such (a) ludicrous misinterpretation.” Damn straight.

That would’ve been fine, but then he made a terribly frightening statement:

“It speaks to the dangerous power of an ignorant person with a pen.”

Let’s get off the emotional frenzy of Nazi evil for a minute and think about that statement. If you don’t like what somebody says, one of the first things people do in their own defense is to attack the person making the statement. Will Smith is making the case that the reporter who wrote the story is ignorant, that such people are dangerous when armed with a pen, and — parenthetically, perhaps — that this is something we shouldn’t tolerate. Scotland doesn’t abide by our First Amendment, but the very foundation of a free press is that the gal with the pen gets to decide what she can publish.

We’re at a critical juncture on the free press road in this country. A handful of extremely influential deans of journalism schools joined together last week to suggest in a New York Times op-ed piece that licensing requirements for broadcast companies ought to include a demonstrable commitment to local reporting. What kind of unintended consequences could that bring with it? The fears expressed by journalists that bloggers and other practitioners of personal media are destroying democracy are getting louder. And this Will Smith business will now join other similar exceptions to the rule — such as the John Seigenthaler case against Wikipedia — in arming those who choose to defend the status quo rather than work to find their role in the new world.

Moreover, Will Smith is an actor. He did the interview in the first place to promote his new film. He’s paid to do that; it’s part of the deal. If you’ve ever seen any of these kinds of interviews, you know that they are staged to the point of being a press release. Honestly, folks, is Will Smith talking about his new movie news? The point is that reporters seize the opportunity to probe for what they consider “real” news, and these efforts don’t always come out kindly for the actors being interviewed. This is why many refuse to do them or set such rigid rules in place that the interviews are what THEY want them to be: unpaid commercials for the film.

So are we really surprised when a reporter picks a piece from an interview and writes an unkind story?

I’ll bet the Daily Record set a record of some sort with this, too.

I’m SUCH a bloody cynic.

A new study by UK web testing firm SciVisum predicts the end of Web 2.0 in 2008, but the logic misses the mark.

According to Deri Jones, CEO of SciVisum, “Consumers and companies will continue to adopt a nomadic attitude towards web 2.0 websites, flocking to the ‘next big thing’ until the market becomes so saturated that consumers will actually be turned off.”

Or not.

From the SciVisum press release:

SciVisum cites the main drivers for Web 2.0’s decline as the exponential growth in the number of User Generated Content (UGC) websites facing a backlash from cautious advertisers not wanting their brand to appear in front of unsuitable content.

And this is why I completely disagree with the prediction. The view is from a purely Media 1.0 perspective and discounts the reality that advertising is content in the sweeping world of Media 2.0.

Social media (the definition of “Web 2.0″) is what the Web is really all about, so to suggest that it will die because advertisers won’t support it is, well, naive. On the contrary, I think it’s going to reach a new level with the ability to aggregate profiles and interaction from any number of social sites. I’m on MySpace, Facebook, Linked In and others, and you can count on somebody to put those together for me.

Social networking doesn’t require money. Hell, you can build a social site for free with Ning. It requires passion and people of a like mind on any subject.

So to suggest that its demise will come from advertisers not wanting their brands associated with user-generated content is ridiculous. That suggestion speaks more about the state of advertising than what will or won’t happen with Web 2.0.

(hat tip to Duncan at TechCrunch)

I was at a local Starbucks this morning on my Christmas Eve shopping spree. One of the girls was wearing a Santa hat, so I asked the guy who was waiting on me where his was.

“I’m not a Christian,” he replied, and that was that.

And so I wonder how he made that association — how so many people make the connection that anything associated with the holiday is automatically Christian. Is this the way it is to be? Forever?

So let’s do a brief review of history.

The early “church” in Europe (the Catholic church) ran into the celebrations of those with roots in the earth and the heavens, people they called pagans. These people celebrated the Winter Solstice (as I do), when the sun begins its return to the north to signify a new beginning. These same people celebrated the Vernal Equinox, when the sun crossed the equator, bringing new life to the earth and its creatures. Feeling these celebrations served as a threat, the response of the church was to co-opt them by tying them to the life of Christ, and so was born the “Christ Mass” for the birth of Jesus and “Easter” to celebrate the resurrection.

In reality, however, the two are separate. Just because a dominant religion says they aren’t doesn’t make it so. Christmas is, therefore, only a religious holiday in the minds of those who observe the faith, but that doesn’t make the mixture real.

Follow the centuries now to modern times, where we have “the reason for the season” crowd. Decking the halls with boughs of holly and jingling our bells along fields of snow bring thoughts of warmth and family not reserved only for Christians. Santa Claus doesn’t discriminate by coming down only the chimneys of those who bear the sign of the cross. Chestnuts roast in fireplaces of all kinds and Jack Frost? Well, he’s not a discriminator of toes upon which to nip.

I am lifted by Handel’s “Messiah” as I am by “O Holy Night” and “Joy to the World.” But those are more about nostalgia, the power of music and how my soul is satisfied with the connection to my roots. But Christmas? That is so very much more.

The giving of gifts and sharing the spirit of joy aren’t reserved for those who go to church on Sunday, and the Christmas Tree is simply NOT a symbol of Christianity, regardless of what you put on its highest branch.

So if we all celebrate Christmas, are we all really de facto celebrating Christ? I don’t think so, and this is the fault I find with the young man who cannot bring himself to wear a Santa hat. This is sad to me, and I don’t think our culture — or the human race — is better with such divisiveness.

My human journey has taken me down many spiritual paths, only to discover that, yes, there is only one God, but all human beings live and breathe in Him and He in them. God is life, and this is what we celebrate at this time of year. This business of who has THE path to God is an archaic notion that has served Western Civilization well but is fading fast in a world that doesn’t need a special priesthood to guide it.

And here’s the real nut of it for me. Am I a Christian? Absolutely. Am I a member of any faith? Absolutely not. Am I a threat to any religion? Only Christianity.

Go figure.

As the rise of personal media continues to offer newbies the wherewithal to take unto themselves the duties and responsibilities of the craft of journalism, cries of “foul” from the High Priesthood of the Big J are getting noisier and more frequent. I don’t write about this much anymore, because I so long ago crossed over that it’s really very hard to “go back” and revisit memes long since put to death in my own mind.

But a phrase that I heard recently in a conversation — and have now found twice in current reading — is forcing a little examination. The phrase is “real reporting,” as differentiated, I suppose, from dishonest, fake, false, feigned, imaginary, imitation, invalid, unreal, or untrue reporting. “Real reporting” is apparently something reserved for the keepers of an imaginary holy flame, one that must be kept burning if democracy is to continue. “Real reporting” is only for the few, and anyone who attempts entry to the holy flame through a side door is, well, an imposter — a purveyor of that which is “unreal.”

Here’s a statement made on a recent discussion board thread about the future of journalism: “If advertising continues to erode, who will do the ‘real reporting?’”

Indeed. Without advertising, all we’ll have is dishonest, fake, false, feigned, imaginary, imitation, invalid, unreal, or untrue reporting. Sounds absurd, but that’s the argument.

My friend Jeff Jarvis (who knows better) even fell into the trap the other day in a great post decrying the ridiculous New York Times op-ed piece by an influential group of J-school deans suggesting a license for local (real?) reporting (just like the church tried to license the printing press back in the day). Jeff did a wonderful job of deconstructing the piece, but he then got on a different kind of high horse in comparing newspaper reporting to TV reporting (my umbrage may be due to my background in TV news). He argued that TV news could be improved if it merged with print (not a bad thought), but…

It could only help broadcast newsrooms to get a sense of real reporting and to get the work of hundreds of print journalists with cameras.

With respect to Jeff, I’ve worked in plenty of TV newsrooms where original reporting was the norm. The stereotype that all TV does is rip off headlines from the “real” press is not a universal truth.

But on the overall issue of “real reporting,” the wonder and beauty of journalism and the First Amendment are that they don’t qualify the press, because the press cannot be controlled or confined by any form of legal definition. For the press to BE the press, it must reflect the nature of those who are drawn to the trade — curious, rebellious, skeptical, resistant-to-authority, tenacious, creative, and resourceful people — not the type prone to any sort of conformist license.

Who is a reporter? We’re all reporters. Who does journalism? We all do journalism. Our audiences and approaches may be different than those who wish to set and maintain the information agenda in any community (or country), but no one has the right to say that your form of journalism is any more “real” than mine.

And so I feel, once again, compelled to state that the institutional, “professional” press in this country is the fruit of Walter Lippmann’s social engineering dreams, that democracy can only work if an educated elite (press included) leads the riffraff that is everybody else.

“Real reporting” is threatened, according to all this noise of late. But let’s be “real” here. If that’s to happen, how would we do without “real reporting?”

“We” will do just fine, because maybe what the world actually needs is some “real reporting,” as defined not by the status quo, but by the people who are sick to death of the monotonous, self-serving crap of those who wish only to protect themselves.

This is a core disruption brought about by the cultural shift from one that is hierarchical and neatly organized (a.k.a. Modernism) to one that is more participatory and chaotic (a.k.a. Postmodernism). And this is why is so important to be focused on people and not institutions when studying the changes around us.

So if advertising continues to erode, who WILL do the real reporting? I don’t know, but I think we’ll figure it out.

There’s a very revealing and sad statement in a Bloomberg News, Reuters article today about News Corp selling eight Fox affiliate stations. It’s from Richard Dorfman, managing director of the investment firm Richard Alan.

“Ad dollars are migrating to the Web, but it’s a government-licensed franchise that can throw off good cash flow and reliably service debt.”

So there you have the bean-counter perspective on the value of a local television station in today’s changing market. It’s a cash cow that services debt.

Nice.

Pew’s latest study is a highly worthwhile read. FAMILY, FRIENDS & COMMUNITY examines teens and their use of social and personal media. If you can get your mind around this, it’s possible to see opportunities for local media companies.

Content creation by teenagers continues to grow, with 64% of online teenagers ages 12 to 17 engaging in at least one type of content creation, up from 57% of online teens in 2004.

Girls post pictures and write blogs; boys are into video sharing (sounds like a contemporary TV newsroom, huh?).

The survey found that content creation is not just about sharing creative output; it is also about participating in conversations fueled by that content. Nearly half (47%) of online teens have posted photos where others can see them, and 89% of those teens who post photos say that people comment on the images at least “some of the time.”

However, many teen content creators do not simply plaster their creative endeavors on the Web for anyone to view; many teens limit access to content that they share.

Let’s step back a minute and think about this for a minute. Two-thirds of online teens (59% of all teens) are creating their own “content” (to use a media term), many of whom are using it to originate conversations or discussions with others. Can anybody deny the reality that everybody’s a media company with this kind of data? Can anybody deny the ramifications to those who used to have this playing field to themselves?

There is a significant opportunity for local media companies here and it’s not the tried and untrue “ad-supported content” model, whereby we “invite” people to share their content and “host” it on our big, branded portal websites (making “them” conform to “our” standards in the process).

Instead, we need to find ways to enable the advancement and growth of personal media in our communities by teaching, encouraging, growing and enabling everything about it. The Web is our platform, not just our little corner thereof.

“We have entered an empowered era in which humans are God, because technology allows them to be godlike. How will you engage God?“

I’ve used these words from Starcom’s Rishad Tobaccowala (2004) many times in my work, and we continue to see evidence of it in the modern-day business world. The latest example is the travails of Circuit City, and I wanted to highlight a paragraph from a Marketwatch story about their stock problems. Best Buy is succeeding where Circuit City is not, and the woman referenced here is Stacey Widlitz, and analyst for Pali Research:

While Best Buy opened up more registers when store managers noticed a big line, Circuit City would have just one register open even if there was a line of customers waiting, Widlitz noted from her store tours.

In the web world, I’m increasingly convinced that those who consider the user costs of interaction will ultimately be the winners in any content play and that the new killer ad model will likely come from this paradigm.

How will you engage God?

(previously)

Like others have already suggested (e.g. Diane Mermigas today), I believe the writers’ strike is a turning point in the history of the entertainment industry. There’s no going back, and what will be tomorrow won’t resemble yesterday, even if it means the end of certain institutional functions in the creation of entertainment. Rather than let the market do it alone, the writers have chosen to kill themselves. Noble, perhaps, but foolish to the max.

That’s because to try and resolve this particular argument — how to compensate the creative process in a world of disintermediated, distributed media — in old fashioned ways is like the Biblical “pouring new wine into old wineskins.” What’s required here is cooperation, not confrontation, and that, sadly, will never happen with two sides seeking only their own best interests. The truth is nobody knows how the new world will turn out, and to try and force compensation based on any formula calculated today is not only foolish, it’s irresponsible.

The writers believe that unbundled opportunities are where the money’s at downstream, but that’s problematic when previous sources of revenue — those that supported their lifestyle in the first place — are drying up quickly. So it’s a chicken and egg matter. The egg business assumes sufficient chickens to make them.

Try and sit through the credits on any Hollywood production. Then consider the credits of, say, ZeFrank. “Apples and oranges,” you say. Yes, but eyeballs are eyeballs, folks, and therein lies the rub.

And this is a warning to all who choose to rely on “worker power” to force anybody in media to adhere to old practices in trying to reinvent the business. The more you demand, the less relevant you are.

Secondly — and perhaps more importantly — the public is already turning to other sources and distribution models to find entertainment. This exacerbates the essential problem by allowing customers to create other habits. This is not smart business, and the union is hoping it will force the studios to their knees. Count me with those who believe that’s not going to happen.

This isn’t just another tired labor dispute. It’s the omega and the alpha, the end and the beginning.

As you already know, I’m a big proponent of local media companies creating niche verticals rather than adding “sections” to their sites. There are many reasons why this is smart strategy, but perhaps the most important is that it fits the architecture of the Web. Functionally, a URL is just a URL, but that’s not the case when examining the structure of the Web and, therefore, how everything works. And I think this understanding is crucial to building business models that will endure.

And perhaps more importantly for media companies is that the creation of massive portals gives the false sense that one site is different than the next. Bigger is better, we think, but this is simply not true.

Before I go any further, let me be clear that I’m not talking about ad metrics or the ability to monetize page views. I’m talking about understanding the Web as a platform. That the advertising industry continues to function in a reach/frequency paradigm doesn’t mean we should tie our futures to it exclusively. Besides, it’s simply a matter of technology to string together a series of sites and “get credit” for the mass it creates.

I’m after the language we use, because it’s robbing us of vision. For example, when we refer to a niche vertical as a “micro-site” or a network program site as a “mini-site,” what’s the implication? That our branded portals are “macro-sites?” “Maxi-sites?” “Major BFD sites?”

You see, the more we think (and talk) that way, the more we reveal our ignorance about the nature of the Web and inhibit our ability to creatively attack the problems we face.

So here’s the deal. Websites are all the same in the structure of the Web. Every one is a single pixel on the page that makes up the whole. As I’ve written before, consider a high resolution picture of Uncle Harry. You’d have to do a heck of a lot of zooming to isolate a single pixel, and that’s the predicament we’re in structurally. If the picture examined traffic, it would certainly look different, but I’m not talking about traffic.

Google, for example, looks at the picture of Uncle Harry and says, “we can help and make money from every pixel.” So Google doesn’t need to spit shine its own pixel in order to be successful; they just help everybody else spit shine theirs.

This opportunity to enable, make better, and make money from a growing numbers of sites is not only the opportunity but also the mandate for local media companies. But it begins with the fundamental understanding that nobody is special in the architecture of the Web (at least not yet, lawmakers). A site is a site is a site.

Advertising is content in Media 2.0. Traffic to Elf Yourself matches The New York Times in one month’s time, according to Alexa:

This cost Office Max virtually nothing compared to the ad budget necessary to reach those millions of people via the Times.

I first published this as an essay three years ago. I had a little help from Charles Dickens, and the message is as appropriate today (sadly) as it was in 2004. Enjoy and Merry Christmas.

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A gust of wind swirled around the trees in front of old Ebenezer Broadcaster’s hilltop house this cold December night, scattering snow from the branches like an invisible broom sweeping dust from the attic. The large evergreen at the corner bent in the gale and rerouted the gust over the valley and its inhabitants. It was Christmas Eve.

It was a peaceful and starlit night throughout the land, and the little ones dreamt of the next morning with its joy and gifts — all except the little ones at the cottage of Bob Gadget. Gadget had worked as an engineer for Ebenezer for 30 years, but this Christmas, he feared for his job and, along with it, his ability to care for his crippled son, Tiny New. Rather than buy gifts, he was saving what little money he had for the inevitability of Broadcaster’s axe.

Ebenezer was a second generation Broadcaster, having built his empire from a small A.M. radio station his father owned in the 50s. With a penchant for squeezing every last penny from a dollar, Ebenezer Broadcaster had a reputation as a hostile and difficult employer. He boasted that many celebrities had come through his television stations on their way up the ladder, but the truth is he never paid anybody enough money to want to stick around.

“Humbug,” he would say on the matter. “I just did my part in helping their careers move along.”

Earlier in the evening, Ebenezer had been enjoying his holiday brandy, when a vision appeared to him warning of visits by three Ghosts during the night. Dismissing the apparition as too much booze, he went to bed as usual. However, his fitful sleep was interrupted when the clock struck midnight, and he bolted upright in bed as a strange presence rattled chains while emitting a comfortable but frightening warmth. The Ghost was small in stature, and a broad smile never left its face.

“Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me.” asked Ebenezer.

“I am.”

The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance.

“Who, and what are you.” Ebenezer demanded.

“I am the Ghost of Broadcasting Past.”

“Long Past?” inquired Ebenezer, observant of its dwarfish stature.

“No. Your past. Now, come. Let us look and observe.”

Suddenly, Ebenezer Broadcaster was pulled into a vortex of sight and sound — familiar yet unfamiliar. The tunnel was lined with all sorts of money — floating cash, loose change, profit, credit scores, check books, and an endless sea of balanced budgets. He reached for a $100 bill, but it slipped through his fingers. Laughter and merriment echoed from every direction, and he was aware of a profound sense of power as they flew along on their journey.

“A journey to where?” he wondered.

The Ghost turned to the left and suddenly they were aboard a cruise ship with hundreds of old associates and clients.

“I never thought the Broadcasters would ever spend their money on something like this,” said a stout fellow holding a martini.

“Their money?” replied his companion. “Hell, it’s OUR money they’re spending. They’ve got us by the balls, they do. If we want to reach our customers, we’re a slave to their outrageous rates.”

With a sudden yank, the Ghost pulled Ebenezer heavenward, and they were soon floating over the city. Tucked in an envelope of warmth, it seemed they were immune to the cold night air. Every home had an antenna attached to the chimney, and inside smiling faces were everywhere as families gathered around their television sets to enjoy the programming Ebenezer’s station provided. It was good and all was well, but in an instant Ebenezer was back in his bed. With its toothy smile, the Ghost stood before him and announced that another Spirit would soon knock.

Then, Ebenezer Broadcaster was alone.

In mid-snore, he was again awakened as the clock struck one. A stream of light from the next room beckoned, and Ebenezer reluctantly investigated, discovering a giant Phantom surrounded by a floating field of electronic gadgetry and wires that filled the room. The Ghost of Broadcasting Present was pleasant and young, and she carried a torch shaped like a computer screen. When the Ghost turned to the left, the floating field turned with her. When she turned to the right, the floating field followed. It was most strange indeed.

First the Ghost of Broadcasting Present showed Ebenezer the people of the town in all their merriment on Christmas morning. As they watched the townspeople, the Ghost sprinkled good cheer on them from her computer and the people rejoiced. As Ebenezer looked around each home, he noticed that no one was watching television. The set still stood in the corner of the living room, but youngsters played video games and DVDs, while older people watched cable niche channels like HGTV and The Food Channel, each in their own room. How awful, he thought.

Computers were evident in other rooms of the homes, and people sat typing and drawing and reading and watching. There was only a scattering of antennas on the chimneys of the homes.

A bone shivering chill swept over Ebenezer’s body as he considered the scene before him, and he felt a want that was unfamiliar.

“What’s happened to my business?” he inquired of the Spirit. “You cannot represent the present, Ghost. Where are the people watching television? What about Nielsen? What about my clients?”

“You seek the past in what is now,” the Ghost replied.

“Humbug,” Broadcaster muttered. “This is nonsense! My spreadsheet still shows profit.”

Off they flew to the northeast corner of the valley and entered the home of Ebenezer’s most loyal employee, Bob Gadget. Electronic machines sizzled and swirled in every corner of the cold house, and Bob himself was busy in front of a computer. As he pecked at the keyboard, the Ghost led Broadcaster to read the screen. Gadget was making an entry to his blog — forecasting doom for the industry he’d served for 30 years and gathering links from like-minded bloggers who were searching for ways to calm their unemployment fears.

“Rebellion,” Ebenezer cried. “My own trusted employee is rebelling against me.”

“You’ve given him no choice,” answered the Spirit. “He must protect his family, including Tiny New Gadget.”

In the living room, the Gadget family was gathered around the TV watching a Seinfeld rerun between the commercials.

“At least these are loyal to me,” Ebenezer thought, but the Spirit directed his attention to the empty floor beneath the Christmas tree.

Suddenly, Ebenezer Broadcaster was alone once again, and he trembled for perhaps the first time in his life.

The clock struck two, and he awoke to a room filled with a terrible sense of foreboding and dread. Before him stood a third Spirit — this one ghastly and misshapen.

The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came, Ebenezer bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved, it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded.

He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved.

“I am in the presence of the Ghost of Broadcasting Yet To Come,” said Ebenezer.

The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.

“You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,” Broadcaster pursued. “Is that so, Spirit?”

The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.

The city appeared before Broadcaster as if it sprang up around him, and the Ghost’s hand directed Ebenezer to listen to the conversation of several groups of men in the streets. They spoke of the death of a man and a funeral that no one planned to attend.

“He died a fool,” said a fellow with a moustache and glasses. “The old coot just couldn’t accept change.”

“He also died broke,” added another. “He never knew what hit him, because he wouldn’t listen to anybody.”

Ebenezer stared into the black emptiness of the Phantom’s hooded face and said, “They’re talking about me. Is it not so?”

Suddenly, they were above Broadcaster’s old television station. It was a shadow of its former self, its windows broken and its walls covered with the utterings of vandals armed with spray paint. Equipment racks had been ransacked and anything of value removed. The parking lot stood empty. The tower was broken in half, and its transmitter was covered in overgrowth and wires. The cold wind whistled through the buildings of Broadcaster’s once proud station.

“This, this cannot be,” Ebenezer cried.

Over the city they flew, and joy and merriment was all the Ghost could reveal. Life went on. The people were entertained. The people were informed. Gone was any trace of a TV antenna. Inside the homes, the people entertained themselves with a variety of gadgetry. Elaborate menus of content drifted before his eyes, along with acronyms he didn’t recognize. VOD, DVR, iPod and PSP. There were no television sets, only flat screens, laptops and handheld units — some connected by wires,others not.

Broadcaster’s thoughts turned to his own sense of worthlessness. All this time, he had believed the people of the town couldn’t live without him. Yet, here they were doing just fine despite the loss of the TV station.

Once again, he found himself inside the dwelling of Bob Gadget. The family home had been transformed into a sprawling mansion, the splendor of which overwhelmed Ebenezer. Laughter and joy filled the house, and prosperity flowed from every room. Bob’s son, Tiny New, was the center of attention, and cash fell from his pocket as Bob lifted him into the air and set him in a special chair.

“It’s all been worth it, my family,” Bob announced as he raised his glass in a toast. “While that old bastard Ebenezer Broadcaster wasted away the hours counting on the immortality of his spreadsheets, we’ve explored the many new ways of doing what he used to do. Mass marketing died when the Internet was born, and media is now all about consumer choice.

“Our company has gone public, and thanks to our Tiny New Gadget here, we’ve come to a place where we can enjoy the fruits of life’s many blessings.”

And Ebenezer found himself in a graveyard, alone with the Phantom. Before him stood a tombstone that read:

The scales fell from his eyes and he realized what the Ghost of Broadcasting Yet to Come was telling him, so he asked, “Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of the things that May be only?”

He begged the Spirit to assure him that if he changed his ways, this would not be his end, but the Ghost did not answer. He threw himself at the Spirit’s feet and pleaded saying, “I will honor New Media in my heart, and try to keep up with changes. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me, and I will spend what the Future requires.”

Ebenezer watched frightfully as the Ghost began to shrink until it melted away into nothing more than a bedpost.

As the sun broke through the window, Ebenezer Broadcaster awoke with a stretch and a smile. He was also on a mission, and there was no time like the present to get started. He made his way to the mall and burst into the door buster sales to buy this gift and that. He turned his car northeastward to the home of Bob Gadget and his family.

When Gadget opened the door, old Ebenezer smiled and announced, “Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas to you and your family.”

He handed out gifts to one and all, put his arm around Bob, and said, “Let’s you and I sit down and talk on Monday about what’s going on in the business and what we can do together to prepare for the Future.”

And Tiny New raced to Ebenezer and squeezed his leg.

“God bless us all,” he proclaimed, “each and every one of us.”

I was awakened at 4:30 this morning to the sound of my cellphone going off. This, I might add, is unusual. I rolled over and answered the thing, only to be greeted my the nice feminine voice of the American Airlines computer telling me my 8 a.m. flight to Shreveport had been canceled. Not to worry. The machine told me they’d confirmed me on the 9 a.m. flight, and if I wanted to accept, I should say “yes.”

The extra hour of sleep would’ve been nice, but when I’m awake, I’m awake, I tossed a bit but eventually got ready for my trip.

At the airport, I got some Starbucks and went to the gate, then proceeded to seat 14A on one of those little jets. I got out some papers to read, put them and my coffee on the tray in front of me, and settled in for the flight. Then came the giant man in seat 13A, who plopped himself down like a giant wrecking ball, bouncing everything on my tray table and spilling coffee all over my pants. He apologized. The nice flight attendant brought towels. My butt was soaked.

I moved to to 14B.

They counted everybody and closed the door, and the captain hit the ignition switch. The cabin began to smell like a furnace that hadn’t been turned on all year, and soon we had a little smoke problem. They isolated it to a faulty air conditioner pack just before we would’ve had to evacuate. We “exited the aircraft” and waited to see what American would do. My butt was still soaked.

They located a new jet and moved us to a new gate. We boarded. However, some of the people had slipped away (perhaps unnerved by the smoke), so there was a manifest problem. And every experienced traveler knows you don’t leave with a manifest problem. They counted us. They counted us again.

We took off and landed in Shreveport only to discover that “our gate” wasn’t available, so we waited 10 minutes for the gooney bird to depart, leaving the gate to us.

I got to my client a little late, and I’m now writing this from my hotel. The scent of caramel macchiato is emanating from my underwear.

I should’ve just said no.

If you need more evidence of where we’re headed, take a look at a new Accenture study out this morning, “The Future of Digital Advertising: a Rigorous Focus on Performance.”

From the report:

At a macro level, the industry is facing a zero-sum game: advertising dollars will migrate to where they are most effective. At a micro level, those players who fail to respond to market demand will suffer. But the underlying change will be a greater ability on the part of advertisers to reallocate their advertising investment more responsively in line with performance. As a result, those that really do deliver the right performance will — quite rightly — win out.

This is just the latest blow to those who’ve staked their business futures on the reach-frequency game, the people who count page views as the top metric of value. They’re not, and while there are still plenty of people with lots of money to spend on it, the smart media company will pursue other avenues as well.

(This was first published this week in our Media 2.0 Intel newsletter)

Scanning the headlines of media trades reveals a blur of stories about this company or that one positioning itself for betterment within the world of the Web. This “positioning” comes at the expense of others who are also bumping elbows within the glut of new ventures, each screaming for the attention of the Holy Grail: audience.

NBCU wants to set the prices for downloads of its programs, so the network pulled the plug on its relationship with Apple’s iTunes, where a recalcitrant Steve Jobs wants to keep the price at $1.99. NBC and Fox have launched Hulu, a really nice site for streams, etc., with the not-so-small exception of severe restrictions on how those downloads can be used (only by you) and how long they’re available (five weeks).

Meanwhile, the RIAA is running out of gas in its efforts to sue its customers, and Mark Cuban is doing his best to stop pirates from stealing videos. There are arguments about user-generated content, and the New York Times editor is continuing to do his best to separate the professional from the amateur in terms of journalism.

Lawsuits here and there, take down notices for YouTube, Comedy Central loading a complete archive of “The Daily Show,” and on and on we talk about how this new medium can serve us and our business needs.

And then comes a headline like this:

Nokia Predicts 25% of Entertainment by 2012 Will be Created and Consumed Within Peer Communities.

Okay. Think about this for a minute. While we’re fighting for our rights and our business models, people are playing with media tools that used to be the sole purview of the professionals. And what are they doing? Entertaining themselves and each other. And Nokia thinks this will grow to one-fourth of entertainment in five years’ time. And get this: these don’t give a ripple chip about the things mentioned above that are attracting all of our attention today.

Eyeballs are not an infinite resource, so the problem is how will value be sustained in a world where 25% of entertainment is home made?

“From our research we predict that up to a quarter of the entertainment being consumed in five years will be what we call ‘Circular’. The trends we are seeing show us that people will have a genuine desire not only to create and share their own content, but also to remix it, mash it up and pass it on within their peer groups - a form of collaborative social media,” said Mark Selby, Vice President, Multimedia, Nokia.

You see, folks, the rise of personal media — fueled by fluid outside pureplay companies — is the real threat to traditional media, not applications that steal copyrighted material or otherwise interfere with the way things used to be. We’d better get onboard this “revolution,” or we risk real irrelevance downstream.

Gordon Borrell says it best, “The deer now have guns. What do you do when the deer have guns? Get into the ammunition business.”

Ask yourself this: What am I doing to make sure that I have a place at the table in the rise of personal media?

The following email was a part of Poynter’s online news discussion list, and its author has graciously allowed me to republish it here. I do so, because it reveals the ease with which a high quality news website can be built on a dime. I know I sound like a friggin’ broken record sometimes, but if students can do this, why can’t we?

Follow the links, especially the one that leads to the author’s website.

I wanted to share our experiences at the UBC Graduate School of Journalism in creating a student journalism website on a tight budget. As most journalism educators will know, there are often few resources or the technical support to develop multimedia websites.

TheThunderbird.ca showcases the work of the students on the core Multiplatform Journalism course that I lead at the J-school.

The site is run on an installation of Wordpress MU, the multiple user version of this versatile software. Wordpress offers an easy to use content management system, making it simple for the students to learn how to post stories. Wordpress MU can be a little temperamental, meaning that some plugins won’t work with it.

As Wordpress was designed as blogging software, most of the designs, called themes, look like blogs. Our main challenge was finding a theme that looked more like a news website but was also easy to customize. We ended up going with Brian Gardner’s Revolution News theme, a bargain at US$99 for use on a single website. I was able to tweak the theme, even with a minimal of knowledge of PHP or CSS.

The Audio Player plugin by 1Pixelout makes it simple to insert audio into stories, creating a customizable Flash player.

The Video Wordpress plugin by daburna works with just about every video hosting service under the sun and enables you to embed Flash video.

Other useful plugins include:

• Share This to allow visitors to share content via social bookmarking sites
• Shift This to create captions from the alt tag of an image
• Simple Tagging to insert tags on posts

There are still many more things we hope to do with the site.

Alfred Hermida
Assistant Professor
The School of Journalism, University of British Columbia

I am not suggesting that a highly scalable site can be built for nothing, but there’s no reason we can’t use this software to build a host of verticals detached from our main Media 1.0 websites.

Frankly, I’m really impressed with what professor Hermida has done in BC, and I wish him and his students well.

Good morning. I’m heading out for a client trip, but I wanted to get this up first. It’s my latest essay, and since it doesn’t really fit under the banner of “Local Media in a Postmodern World,” I’m not sending it out to our email distribution list. This essay — The Ultimate Question — is an intellectual examination of the looming reality of a networked world, one in which we’re all connected. Will this be a good thing or not?

The piece points to a wonderful video featuring John Hagel, wherein he states that he has no answers about this idea of a networked world, only questions. Hagel asks 14 questions, but I think there’s only one that matters: Who or what will be the governor in a networked culture?

The Ultimate Question

Jeremy Allaire, founder/CEO of Brightcove and one of the brightest minds in technology, wrote in his predictions for 2008 that nothing about the Internet changes the fundamentals of media, adding that “value is created by controlling the content or controlling access to the audience.”

“Media companies with established brands and new start-ups,” he continued, “will continue to build successful branded destinations so they can control the access to audiences.”

This is quite a statement and one that bears close examination in light of disruptions to mass media, disintermediation, unbundling and the escalating fragmentation of media. I believe that the Internet does change the fundamentals of media, so I can’t support Jeremy’s positive view in this concept.

Brightcove, it should be noted, is ending its video upload service and abandoning the potential for any “market” in the world of user-generated content. In a blog post on the topic, Allaire said it was a decision based largely on the growth of its professional video business, which is substantial. This move — and Jeremy’s thinking above — clearly indicate that Brightcove is linking its star to the world of traditional media. And why not? There’s considerable money involved.

However, what’s good for Brightcove doesn’t validate the statement that the Internet doesn’t change the fundamentals of media. Let’s talk about that, for all business beliefs are built on assumptions, and there’s a big one here:

“Content” is so valuable that people will follow whatever path is required in order to satisfy their eyeballs, including participating in whatever is required to pay for that privilege.

This is a very dangerous assumption for any media business attempting to “control access to audiences.” It’s a purely mass-marketing concept, and it ignores a few things about the Web.

First of all, the “branded destinations” spoken of aren’t unique in the architecture of the Web, and this is a problem. It doesn’t matter how many people “visit,” how long they stay, or what’s available through any particular URL, the Web considers them all the same, what I call pixels on a page. Therefore, any system of control is fragmented to the nth degree. Cable changed the value proposition of broadcasting, and the Web does the same to cable. We can spin things with HDTV and other things like specialized content, etc., but the dynamic is the same as what drug companies do when patents expire on their products. “Time-released” becomes the selling point, not the product itself. But people — who are driven by price — go for the new generic. Same with content creators. No matter how we spin it, it’s just another pixel on the page in the architecture of the Web.

So from a structural perspective, the media value proposition is lessened, because the eyeballs necessary to earn from that “value” have thousands, if not millions, of other choices. Moreover, as content becomes more and more commodified, it gets harder to identify any of it as “special.”

Secondly, the assumption requires a belief that this “content” has sufficient qualities to compel the eyeballs in the first place. This, too, is a problem, because the creators of professional content have known for about a decade that it’s getting harder and costing more to create the ultimate mass marketing goal — the blockbuster. There are many factors at play here, but the one that the creators least wish to discuss is that content built on previous success — that is to say content based on research and history — does not necessarily lead to audience growth. And without growth, the fundamentals are meaningless. Hollywood, the record companies and the rest of the copyright industry are largely victims of the crap they’ve been producing for years. But crap is easy and it’s profitable.

It is into this paradigm that the personal media revolution has blossomed, people educating and entertaining themselves with technology’s help. The value of YouTube has never been in the distributing of the kinds of content described in media accounts of pirating, etc.; it has always been about growing communities entertaining themselves. Professional video creators can scoff at and discount this all they wish, but eyeballs viewing this are eyeballs that once needed the restraints of those creating value through restricted access and so forth.

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, this assumption dismisses the contemporary reality that advertisers — the people who funded the assumption in its earlier times — don’t need the content anymore in order to do business. Advertising IS content in Media 2.0, and where money is spent by advertisers in creating their own content, it is not being spent on supporting the content of Jeremy’s “branded destinations.” Some advertisers are actually becoming their own media companies, and while this may help Brightcove’s business, it challenges the assumptions of traditional media.

The problem may not be that the value proposition of media is changing as much as the definition of media itself, which is why I believe media companies must proceed down simultaneous strategic paths — monetizing their “content” as best they can but also moving to portfolio companies by innovating in the world of advertising and Media 2.0.