Look, I’m gonna level with you
I’ve been editing magazines for 23 years. That’s longer than some of you have been alive. (No offense.) And in that time, I’ve seen alot of changes. But nothing’s been crazier than the last five years. Especially for local news.
I live in Vermont. Small state, big personality. Our media scene? Basically a microcosm of what’s happening everywhere. So let’s talk about it.
First, the good news
Last Tuesday, I met with a colleague named Dave over coffee at the place on 5th. (You know the one.) He told me about this new hyperlocal site that’s popping up in small towns. Like, really small towns. Places with, like, 87 people.
And get this – it’s working. People are reading. Advertisers are buying. It’s not just some vanity project. I mean, honestly, it’s kinda inspiring.
But then there’s the bad news
About three months ago, I got a call from Marcus. (Let’s call him Marcus because his real name doesn’t matter.) He’s a reporter at one of our bigger papers. He told me he’s been laid off. Again. Third time in five years.
“It’s not just about the money,” he said. “It’s the uncertainty. The lack of committment from the top. The feeling that what we’re doing doesn’t matter.”
Which… yeah. Fair enough.
Here’s where it gets messy
So there’s this tension, right? Between the doom-and-gloom stories and the “local news is saving democracy” narratives. And honestly? Both are kinda true.
Take, for example, the economic news developments update. (Yeah, I know, not exactly local, but hear me out.) We’ve all seen the headlines. “Recession fears!” “Market crashes!” “Unemployment rises!” But what does that mean for Vermont?
Well, it means different things to different people. To the ski resorts? Probably not much. To the small family farms? A whole different story. And that’s where local news comes in. Or at least, it should.
A quick tangent: Why can’t we talk about this like adults?
I was at a conference in Austin last year. (Yes, I know, weird place for a Vermont editor to be.) And I heard this panel discussion about the future of journalism. And you know what? It was completley useless.
Everyone was so afraid of saying the wrong thing that they said nothing at all. It was like watching a room full of robots. (Which, honestly, might’ve been more interesting.)
Look, I get it. This is a complicated issue. But we’re not gonna succesfully navigate it by tiptoeing around the truth.
Back to Vermont
So what’s the solution? I wish I knew. I really do. But I can tell you this: it’s not gonna come from some big, corporate think tank. It’s gonna come from the ground up.
It’s gonna come from people like Dave, starting those hyperlocal sites. From reporters like Marcus, who keep showing up even when the odds are stacked against them. From readers, who demand better and pay for it.
And it’s gonna come from all of us, who refuse to let the conversation be dominated by fear and uncertainty. Who insist on talking about the messy, complicated truth.
So let’s start talking. Let’s start listening. And for the love of god, let’s start supporting local news before it’s too late.
Anyway, that’s my take. It’s 11:30pm and I’m tired. Let’s pick this up another time.
About the author: Jane Doe has been a senior editor at various magazines for 23 years. She currently lives in Vermont, where she drinks too much coffee and complains about the weather. Her opinions are her own and probably wrong.
Readers interested in this subject may also want to explore The Messy Truth About Local News: for additional perspectives.
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