Caffeinated Politics

There are a few constant themes that resonate in my writings about politics and society. Strongly encouraging process-driven governing, advocating gun control, standing alongside the Fourth Estate, promoting democracy, and pressing for newspapers to remain a part of a citizens daily routine. It is that last point that I wish to deal with today.

This morning, I read a news story about the plight of small hometown newspapers.

Newspapers owned by small, independent groups — often families or businesses invested in their local communities — are shuttering at an alarming pace compared to those owned by large investment companies.

Why it matters: Independent newspapers are more likely to represent rural communities that are at greater risk of becoming “news deserts,” or areas with extremely limited or zero access to local news sources.

By the numbers: Half of the 136 newspaper closures in America over the past 14 months have been from independent, for-profit newspaper chains that own five or fewer for-profit papers, according to a new report from Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism. By comparison, only eight newspapers owned by investment firms shuttered in the same time period.

I grew up in a home with a daily newspaper (Stevens Point Journal) and the weekly Waushara Argus. In my young adult years, I realized how important and valuable those publications were to my growing up and becoming not only deeply interested in the world but also about the people around me. In those years of adulthood I could look back and recognize the quiet, continuous heartbeat of democracy that pulsed through the pages of those newspapers. If that sounds quaint or nostalgic, so be it. But I know it to be true. I know the papers that are local and oriented towards, in many cases rural communities like Hancock where I grew up, bind towns and villages together. They may not have the largest staff or deep pockets, but they do more than just report the news. They hold power to account for actions taken. (Ask the Waushara County Sheriff this week about the news that has engulfed his department due to his actions.) In other words, the work of these small-town papers is still highly relevant.

Long-time readers might recall that the local town board, on which my dad sat for 40 years as an elected supervisor, used to meet on a rotating basis in the homes of the members. My mom made brownies, and it was there one night when, as a young boy I streaked from the bathroom to my bedroom after a bath. I have always trusted the secretary (who was also my bus driver) never made mention of that in his minutes. I mention that story as small communities are connected and local newspapers ensure that the lifeblood of these places is not forgotten. In towns where the mayor is also the hardware store owner, and the school board meets in the same room where bingo is played on Thursdays, local journalism ensures that decisions affecting daily life are not made in the shadows. Yes, the town board met around the family dining table, but the news of their actions made it into a next edition of the Argus. (I trust this explains my quaint and nostalgic feelings about newsperson.

Social media, for all its reach and power cannot replicate this intimacy. What concerns me about the dangers to local newspapers is that social media can connect people across continents but often fail to connect neighbors across towns in which they live. The papers of my youth knew the names and the history of the small towns on back roads and tensions over this development or that elected official. And when the news was reported the readers then had a broader and more inclusive shared identity.

The decline of local journalism has real consequences. Studies show that towns without newspapers experience lower voter turnout, fewer contested elections, and increased government inefficiency. When watchdogs in the local newsroom disappear, so does accountability.

Yet despite shrinking ad revenues and digital technology many local papers persist, such as the Argus of my youth. They deserve not just nostalgic feelings but also subscriptions and letters to the editor. (My first such letter was published in the Argus when I was in the sixth grade and was about handguns.)

To read a local newspaper is to engage in a democratic ritual. I wish more people would come to understand that fact.