The first post on Saddleworth News, 16th February 2010.
It’s happy birthday to Saddleworth News. Five years to the day after I hit publish on the first post, and more than three since I last had any day-to-day involvement with it, I’m pleased to say it’s still going strongly under editor Stuart Littleford.
I’ve always said I started the site for two reasons: one to keep me involved in journalism while I stayed at home looking after my baby daughter (who is now also five, and has a little sister), and the other to provide a news and information resource that would be useful to the community in an era of declining traditional local media.
The first part of it worked out better than I’d imagined, and the attention I got from Saddleworth News turned into freelance work at BBC Radio 5 live, guest talks at universities and colleges across the north, and now a full-time job as a lecturer at the University of Huddersfield.
Much more importantly, Stuart and his regular readers, advertisers, contributors and commenters, have made sure the second part has been a much greater success than I could ever have imagined. Congratulations are due to everyone involved.
Hyperlocal isn’t the buzzword it was five years ago, but these sites have become an established part of the local media mix in the hundreds of places where they exist. The process of cutbacks and closures in the mainstream local media – which I wrote about in that first post five years ago – has continued in that time, and the sector as a whole still faces an uncertain future. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from five years of Saddleworth News, it’s that the public’s interest in local news remains strong.
Alan Rusbridger (centre) was among those taking part.
I was in Cardiff on Friday, and apart from continuing the early stages of my PhD I was there to attend an event called Coding For Social Change, which served as the launch of the department’s two new MAs.
There were three panels during the afternoon, and the keynote session featured outgoing Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger and freedom of expression campaigner Jillian York of the Electronic Frontier Foundation. On the screen behind them, as they chewed over the various rights and restrictions of the post-Edward Snowden era, was an image showing a whiteboard Rusbridger has scrawled all over with all sorts of headings and buzzwords, in an attempt to show just how complicated all this stuff really is.
Rather dryly (and Rusbridger gives the impression of rarely being anything other than dry), he noted that the government committee nominally charged with oversight of all this only meets on Thursday afternoons and is under the chairmanship of Sir Malcolm Rifkind. The former Foreign Secretary may be a “fine man” as Rusbridger conceded, but he’s not perhaps the best person to have such a job. Even if he was, the framework that exists isn’t really up to that particular task.
Rusbridger sprang a surprise by admitting he’d consider moving his paper’s HQ from London to New York if it became harder legally to do more Snowden-style stories in the UK. He doesn’t have long left in the editor’s chair so he won’t be doing this personally, but that remark does at least offer another example of The Guardian’s international focus. It will never again be the Manchester Guardian, but it might not always be the London Guardian either.
The story took place in a near-future world in which a new social network called Handles has come to dominate the lives of a group of connected twentysomethings, all glued to their phones in an attempt to become the UK’s first “platinum user” of the service. Trolling, sex assault rumours, hacked celebrity nude pictures, scurrilous showbiz journalists and the ethics of reviewing products on vlogs were among the themes, while the whole play kicked off with a spoof Steve Jobs-style keynote address, reminiscent of a similar scene in Grand Theft Auto V (only without the explosive conclusion).
As before, the audience was encouraged to tweet along, with tweets appearing on a wall behind the performers. Evidently, I was doing something right.
This territory is quite reminiscent of both Charlie Brooker’s acclaimed Channel 4 series Black Mirror, and the various allegations made about the widely-rumoured VIP paedophile ring of the 1980s. The play’s theme of the damage done to an individual’s good name by claims of sexual assault seemed particularly timely in the week that former Home Secretary Leon Brittan died, his reputation shattered by as-yet-unsubstantiated claims of his knowledge or involvement in historic abuse.
Warm congratulations to Tom and the team behind Handles for another enjoyable show. I’m already looking forward to a part three.
My Hootsuite. I’m afraid I do look at this screen quite a lot.
Here’s a story about what Twitter used to be like, what it’s like now, and how it’s still more or less as useful as it ever was.
After a couple of false starts in 2008, I finally started to get it in early 2009. There wasn’t all that much you could do with Twitter itself back then, especially when it was interrupted by the all-too-familiar Fail Whale. But one of the things you could do was make a Twitter list of useful tweeters to follow. Import the list into a third-party application and suddenly you had an updating feed of tweets, a bit like the news wires familiar from all those hours spent in newsrooms.
I had a go at creating one of Formula 1 journalists, stuck it into Tweetdeck on my laptop, and kept an eye on it during one of the early Grands Prix that year. As the race went by I noticed I was looking at the list more and more, as reporters (James Allen’s was particularly good) passed on bits of information the TV commentators hadn’t spotted. Some people might remember it as the year when Jenson Button won the title, but in my house 2009 is fondly recalled as the ‘Summer of Second Screening’. Glory days, indeed.
I started to create a list of tweeting journalists to use at work. Local and national, newspaper, TV and radio, every time I spotted a new reporter on Twitter I’d add them. Soon, this list overtook everything else as my main source of news. As an early warning system for breaking stories, and a filter of the best stuff to read online, I found it was remarkably useful. After a while, I even worked out how to turn off the little chirrupy sound Tweetdeck used to make when it updated (I actually switched to Hootsuite and have stayed loyal ever since – evidently I change my bank more often than my social media management tool).
And all these years later, even though you’d have thought something else would have come along by now, I’m surprised how little has changed. I still add the odd name to my master list of journalists, and a tweet arrived the other day from Electoral HQ telling me it was now the biggest, and second-most popular, list of its kind on all of Twitter. I still look at it every day, several times a day, on mobile, tablet and desktop.
Growing up I found myself impulsively loading up Ceefax all the time, probably to check whether something catastrophic had happened since I last checked. Later when I worked in newsrooms, I was forever casting my eyes down the wires. At one level the Twitter list has really just filled this particular hole in my media consumption. But it’s not because of the technology itself, rather it’s the fact I’ve taken the time to interact with it and curate a list of users who are particularly useful to me that makes it so indispensable.
It’s now 107 years since Victor Grayson won a spectacular victory in the 1907 Colne Valley by-election, standing as an Independent Labour candidate. But his life and mysterious disappearance continue to fascinate political historians. His biographer, and one of his successors as MP for Colne Valley, David (now Lord) Clark, was the main speaker at an event about Grayson at the University of Huddersfield last night.
Victor Grayson had a reputation as one of the great and most radical public speakers of his time, and the Pankhursts were among those who travelled to Colne Valley to join his campaign. His success was short-lived and his Parliamentary career ended at the next general election in 1910, after, with the help of a series of drunken outbursts on the floor of the Commons chamber, he managed to alienate just about all his fellow MPs, including those from Keir Hardie’s mainstream Labour Party. Grayson re-emerged after the First World War but was not seen again after 1920, amid suggestions he got himself mixed up with a shadowy Whitehall fixer called Maundy Gregory, a man responsible for co-ordinating the sale of honours on behalf of Prime Minister David Lloyd George.
The evening began with an extremely rare screening of a 1985 BBC2 documentary about Grayson, not thought to have been shown publicly since its original broadcast. It included interviews with Grayson’s landlady at the time of his disappearance in 1920, Grayson’s nephew as well as a New Zealand soldier who had served with Grayson during WWI, and claimed to have seen him in Spain some years after his apparent disappearance. A rather younger looking David Clark, who by this time had lost his seat in Colne Valley but been elected in South Shields, also featured prominently.
Having read and written a bit about Grayson during my time reporting politics in Saddleworth, in particular the 2011 Oldham East and Saddleworth by-election (Saddleworth and ‘Red Delph’ was part of the Colne Valley constituency in Grayson’s day, indeed it was up until 1983), I’d always assumed that the various sightings of him after his disappearance were probably false, and that he’d been bumped off on Gregory’s orders. A common suggestion is that Grayson knew too much about the honours scandal, and may have threatened to reveal it.
However, Lord Clark seemed fairly convinced, both in the original documentary and again in his remarks last night, that Grayson went to ground and was paid off, and continued living in secret under an assumed name. That would certainly explain the various sightings of Grayson recorded in the 1920s and 30s. But a stronger piece of evidence is the fact that somebody retrieved Grayson’s WWI medals from the New Zealand authorities in London in August 1939. If not Grayson himself, this would have to have been a direct and close relative. The only one alive at that time was his daughter, who, according to Clark, had told him she knew nothing about the medals. It strikes me the sightings can be easily explained away, but that can’t.
Lord Clark speaks about Victor Grayson last night.
Lord Clark also revealed that files about Grayson and some of his political contemporaries held by the Home Office still haven’t been released. When asked by event organiser and University of Huddersfield lecturer Stephen Dorril whether his experiences investigating Grayson’s life had informed his later work on Freedom of Information during the first year of Tony Blair’s government, Lord Clark said it had up to a point. But he then added he was concerned it was the media rather than the general public which tended to use FOI today, which had not necessarily been his original intention.
After Lord Clark’s talk, University of Huddersfield history lecturer Keith Laybourn set Grayson’s life in the context of the Labour movement of the early 1900s, then both men took questions from the good-sized crowd of about 80 people. Thanks to all for a very enjoyable evening.
Here’s something you wouldn’t expect someone like me, a serial pisser-about-on-the-internet, to get excited about. It’s PaperLater, a new thing from The Newspaper Club which lets you make your own little newspaper of stuff you’ve found online.
You select the articles, either by clicking a desktop shortcut or by emailing the link from your mobile or tablet. They print it out and deliver it to your door, with a paper of 24 pages costing you £4.99.
On the face of it, paying someone a fiver to print out the internet seems like a borderline insane thing to do. And there’s no doubt, this is basically what is happening here.
The PaperLater folks suggest you might do this as a way of catching up on things you haven’t got round to reading, such as longform articles. And the number of fascinating-looking but sadly unread pieces from the New Yorker and suchlike in my Pocket folder certainly suggests that there can be too many distractions to consume quality writing in a satisfying way on a smartphone. I’ve found the Kindle app for iPad to be a much better bet.
I actually ordered a PaperLater full of longreads as a present for a friend I visited last week. I enjoyed the process of picking and choosing the articles to fill up by 24-page allowance, and the paper itself when it arrived was a decent quality object. I don’t know if I’d make one purely for myself – I’m probably more likely to continue with not only the Kindle but also the Longform apps on my iPad – but I reckon it’s not a bad gift idea.
Willie MacRae’s crashed car. (pictures: Police Scotland via What Do They Know?)
The death of Willie MacRae is one of Scotland’s most enduring mysteries. A prominent lawyer and SNP political figure, he was found dying from severe head injuries in his crashed car at the side of a road in the Highlands in 1985. Later examinations revealed he’d actually been shot. The official verdict of suicide has often been questioned.
The conspiracy theory goes, roughly, that MacRae was murdered because he was considered a threat to the state, perhaps because of his role in anti-nuclear campaigns. The official version is outlined in a letter from the-then Lord Advocate Lord Fraser of Carmyllie to the Conservative MP Sir Nicholas Fairbairn, that is included in the files released by the police. It states that MacRae had been considering killing himself following a series of misfortunes in his personal life, and had told his brother and a friend about it.
The case remains closed and that seems extremely unlikely to change. But, once again, FOI has helped shed a small amount of new light on a matter of public interest.
Scanning the Getty Images archive, and sticking an appropriate image into Photoshop for a quick bit of tinkering before publication, is as much a part of the online journalist’s toolkit as calling the police press office or doing the tea run.
Or at least it is if you’re working for a professional publisher paying for a proper licence to access Getty, the world’s best known photo agency. But bloggers and social media users have instead faced a choice: nick something that’s not yours and hope you don’t get a legal letter, or try to find a copyright-free image. Flickr Creative Commons has 300 million of these, so there are options, but it’s relatively rare to find much freely available on either current or archive news and sport events.
Until now. Getty has taken the decision to make 35 million images from its library embeddable in blogs like this one, which is why I’m able to put a picture from tonight’s demonstration in Sevastopol at the top of this post. I don’t pay anything: but I have to use Getty’s embed code, which at least ensures a credit if no money for both it and the photographer. I also had to tinker slightly with the image sizes within the code to make it fit nicely, but this only took a few seconds.
Click on a picture in the Getty library and this is what you see. I’ve highlighted the Twitter, Tumblr and embed code links below the image.
All very nice, then. But you might ask why Getty is doing this. A fair summary of the reaction from people far more knowledgeable about photography than me would be that it’s simply realised it just can’t prevent its images being stolen and shared. So it may as well let us do it for nothing in the hope that it can develop some revenue-raising tools around that freely-available content, like YouTube does.
Commercial publishers are still going to have to pay for a proper licence, so Getty will hope its bottom line won’t be affected, but photographers, relying on Getty for cash from those licensing deals, may well wonder where this will end. There’s a blogpost from the British Journal of Photography here, and more reaction from Business Week and the BBC.
And just because I can, here’s a picture from the Getty archive of the last time Crimea was the focus of the world’s attention; Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin at the Yalta Conference of February 1945.
I was at Journalism.co.uk’s latest News Rewired conference in London last Thursday. As is often the case at these events, I learned a new word. This time it was ‘dronalism’ which I heard casually bandied around during a session on drones for news, as if it was an entirely normal thing to say.
Peter Bale from CNN demonstrated the above video of the wreck of the Costa Concordia, which they broadcast after buying it from Team BlackSheep. As cool as it undoubtedly is, I thought Bale was pleasingly candid when he said that drones would be all the rage in TV newsrooms for a while, but that things would die down when editors got tired of them and realised they only really add a dimension to certain stories.
Mobile in general was the key theme of much of the day, and several speakers mentioned the new benchmark being reported across leading news websites including BBC News – that visits from mobiles and tablets taken together have now overtaken those from desktops and laptops.
Matt Danzico of the BBC, and one of the brains behind its new Instafax service on Instagram, said it would be the template for Auntie’s offerings on all social media away from Facebook and Twitter. He pointed out that putting text on a short-form video is often a better solution for mobile than the traditional TV package mixture of clips and a voice over, because people like to watch these things in public and don’t want to send sound booming across the bus queue.
Amid all the well-received show-and-tells, the only real note of tension came whenever the issue of online copyright came up. The keynote speech from BuzzFeed’s ‘cat guy’ Jack Shepherd was smooth and mostly went down very well, the gif-based fun only draining away a touch when someone asked about whether they had the proper permissions for every single one of those images.
The same went for Hannah Waldram’s similarly enjoyable presentation on Instagram. Persistent questions from one freelancer about the company’s treatment of the metadata of the images uploaded to its app turned the mood in the room a bit sour. Waldram said that it was still an emerging debate, and someone called out: “Yes, and you’re right in the middle of it!” Only idiots go to media conferences and make predictions, so here’s mine: this is one talking point we’re going to be discussing a lot more.
I spotted an interesting discussion on Twitter, which has stretched over several days since last week. It’s about the scope of BBC Sport’s online activities, and its impact on newspaper websites. The debate is mostly between Matt Slater of BBC Sport and Matt Scott, former sports reporter with the Guardian and Daily Telegraph, with some others chipping in.
There were some interesting points made on both sides, so I thought I’d collect the tweets together in a Storify. It was slightly tricky because there were various threads to the debate going on at the same time, but I think I’ve more or less managed to get things into a coherent order.