Owning Media vs. Owning Audience

Journalist A.J. Liebling is said to have coined the phrase, “Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one." But in recent news, Facebook has illustrated that in the new media environment, it is not who owns the press but who owns the audience that matters.

Emily Bell, director at the Tow Center for Digital Journalism at Columbia University noted that Facebook's changes “...highlight how ownership of the user is a central tension between news producers and platforms.”

The NYT article goes on to note: "Publishers have little choice but to deal with the changes that Facebook makes, given the dependent relationship news media companies have with the social network. Some 44 percent of adults in the United States regularly read news content on the site, according to a 2016 study by the Pew Research Center. And more than 40 percent of referral traffic to news sites comes from Facebook, according to data from Parse.ly, a digital publishing analytics company."

If you own the audience, you want members of that audience to be happy with the content they engage with on your social network. And if "news of family" generated by audience members is more important than "news of the world" generated by journalists, you "tweak the algorithm."

What concerns me is not only that Facebook users place little value on news of the world, but also that users might isolate themselves from news that doesn't fit their own personal algorithm. Laura Brown (@LBonPlanetEarth) of Politico made this point eloquently in her presentation on a News Feed Divided.

Yes, Facebook is exerting a lot of pressure over the newsfeed. But the users are exerting even more. When we opt to read something that is referred by a friend because we know that friend holds views similar to our own, we are narrowing our world view. When fact checkers become irrelevant because we can't agree on what constitutes fact, honest dialogue gives way to boisterous demagogues.

The NYT concludes: “The growth and competition in the publisher ecosystem is really, really strong,” Adam Mosseri, vice president of product management for the news feed at Facebook, said in a recent interview with reporters. “We’re worried that a lot of people using Facebook are not able to connect to friends and family as well because of that.”

No need to worry about who owns the press anymore. But we do need to gain a better understanding of the whole "publisher ecosystem" and the role that each of us plays in building a sustainable public dialogue.

Pat Summitt Focus

Pat Summitt was four years my senior and infinitely more focused than I. She mastered a sport, a court, and support. She laid out game plans, stared down lame plays, and stayed by same principles.

She took advantage of opportunities without being an opportunist – moving from graduate assistant to coach, using Title IX to build a team, putting Rocky Top on the map of college sports. She stayed true to her state, her school, and her orange, white, and blue.

She was a mother, a mentor, a friend. She was a leader, a speaker, a motivator. She was a farm girl, a baby sister, and a woman who fought for her father’s hug. 

She moved from a childhood constrained by a small town and a half court to a woman who played full tilt on the world stage. She was honored by presidents. She stood on Olympic podiums. She cut down championship nets. 

She fought for her family. She fought for her athletes. And in the end she fought against a debilitating disease. 

Today, news organizations around the world are remembering the focus she brought to women’s basketball, the opportunities she built for herself and others, the well-rounded role model she was, and the way that she fought to the bitter end.

While she was doing all of that, I zig-zagged through a very different life. I was in Tennessee in the 1970s, but had no idea how Pat was focusing her energies. I wore flats and kept my nose in books rather than recognizing that my six-foot frame could be used to any advantage. I moved from career to career and from state to state following people and opportunities and possibilities.

Almost exactly 17 years ago, I landed back in Tennessee. Rocky Top is now home sweet home to me. I’ve gained some focus. I’ve built an academic career on top of careers as English teacher, book editor, journalist, non-profit manager, and technology marketer. I served as mentor to one of Pat’s players. I served all undergraduate students on the University of Tennessee’s Journey to the Top 25.

Ate age 60, I do not regret having followed the flow. I’ve recently returned to the students and the research that led me to academe in mid-life. I’ve only got four years until I reach the age Pat was today. How can I best serve when I'm 64? Pat has inspired me to step up my game, to build on opportunity, to fight, and most of all to focus.

Today that focus is all on Pat Summitt and the amazing legacy she built.

Needles, Spheres, and Irony

Last week, my husband, my cat and I made our summer sojourn to Seattle. On the airplane's final descent, we were able to see the Space Needle just below our glide path. The weather has been clear and fine since we arrived. From our neighborhood to the north of Seattle, I’ve occasionally spotted the top of the needle hovering like a space ship above Queen Anne Hill.



In Knoxville, where we live during the school year, the Sun Sphere casts a shadow on the balcony of our condo unit. Almost every morning, I drink coffee as I welcome the sunrise glinting off that golden globe.


The remnants of world’s fairs mark the skylines of both of my hometowns. The 1962 fair brought the Space Needle and 2.3 million visitors to Seattle. The 1982 fair brought the Sun Sphere and 11 million visitors to Knoxville. What an irony that the Knoxville fair was so much bigger than the one in Seattle!

Today the Space Needle is a more widely recognized and the city of Seattle has a bigger footprint and a grander reputation. But the “scruffy city” of Knoxville has begun to reclaim its iconic status as host – if not to the world, at least to some very good friends of mine. I recently used the sphere as the starting point for a walking tour of town for a friend who is thinking of retiring to Knoxville. And a wonderful group of friends just posted pictures from a birthday party inside the sphere. A party that I missed because I had transition to my other "fair" city.

Writing, Reflecting, and Repaying

I'm thinking today about the excellent work of students who studied Public Relations Writing with me this semester. They learned important things: creating goals, objectives, strategies and tactics; using AP style; formatting and writing a news release. They also did hard things: hearing first-hand about homelessness, raising money for an organization that serves homeless veterans, and exploring the role of resources in three generations of their own families.

I was able to share my family story, too. Two first-generation parents. Grandparents who worked as an electrician, practical nurse, linotype operator (none of my students had a clue), and restaurant and boarding house operator. I introduced my three siblings to my students either through Ted Talks or remote video guest lectures.

My students and I talked about how access to resources of all kinds shapes who we are. We talked about how food means different things to people of different means. And of how our relationship to our possessions carries over from generation to generation. And of family educational experiences that shape our past and our future.

My father, who had no hope of a college education until he served his country and earned the GI Bill, often pondered how our family had leaped in one generation from no post-secondary education to one MA and three Ph.D. degrees.  Today, as I read my usual news sources, I was reminded of all the privileges my family had.

Even though money was often tight, we were never completely without a cushion and never had to resort to predatory lending. Even though my parents never owned a home until their children were grown, they never faced the red-lining practices that lead to contract selling and serial eviction.  And even though we didn’t have a glittering roster of fancy friends, we did have family and we knew our neighbors.

I’m grateful to be standing on the shoulders of family, teachers, friends and neighbors. I am grateful to be in this place of privilege where I can challenge public relations students to write, reflect, and repay veterans for their service.

Sun, Fog, and Sixty

I live in the shadow of the Sun Sphere and a stone’s throw from the Tennessee River. Last Saturday I turned sixty.

Today I sat on my balcony to reflect as the sun rose. As the sky lightened beneath the sphere, the fog thickened over the river. The fog lingered and swirled until the ball of the sun rose to the height of the sphere.

This semester has been like a magical pre-dawn moment. A new light licks the edges of the sky. Fog sinks down to blanket low-lying areas. Research and teaching light me up. Data collection and class preparation darken my days.

As the semester neared its end, I turned sixty. Sisters and friends celebrated with me. We talked. We ate. We danced.

Today I rejoice that I can sit high enough to see both the sun rise and the fog rise. I won't always have this vantage point. But I’ve seen enough cycles now to know another day, another week, another year, another decade will rise, burn off fog, and fall again. Sixty sits well with me.

Walking and Writing

I am attending the Council on Undergraduate Research Dialogues today. The sessions inspire.  But the city lures.  I can't be in my "home town" and spend the whole day in a hotel. So I skipped a session and took a walk.

Perhaps I've presented an unfamiliar picture of DC, but I like it.  Public art at a public library. A celebration of writing and reading.

Writing has haunted me this week.  I read a haunting novel, The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman. I recommend it.

In preparation for being away a couple of days, I spent extra time prepping assignments for my PR writing class. I hope those assignments will help, rather than haunt, my students.

And within the space of five minutes earlier today, I tweeted about three excellent articles on writing:

#writing and #learning Make a Better Writing Assignment by Design ihenow.com/1VsmDZ2

#writetoberead Essay on accessible academic research ihenow.com/1Ww9WN1

#goodwriting requires #goodassignments Colleges should invest more in teaching students how to write ihenow.com/1Q5HrW3

Now, my walk is done, and I need to end my writing, too.  I must return to that conference in the bowels of the ball room. I know I will learn. I will grow. I will meet new scholars. If only I weren't so haunted by my home town....

Blossoming

 I have an amaryllis. My dear friend Margie gave it to me on the occasion of her move to a windowless office.

I have moved offices thrice since then. The amaryllis has always graced my window. It rarely blooms.

It last bloomed almost three years ago. Shortly before that blossom, Margie had left her office for good.

The amaryllis began to blossom about a week ago. It (and Margie) seems to welcome me back to a teaching office.

Other buds open, too.  My students are writing better, talking more openly and preparing well for classes.

I've broken through the soil of stagnant teaching. My students and I are learning better together.

I've toiled to update my research tools. Publishing opportunities have begun to emerge.

Service projects withering in my "to do" list have new life.  I can see colorful opportunities ahead.

The amaryllis continues to blossom; three buds are yet to open. Watch for that magic moment of full bloom just before it falls dormant again.