Why journalism: take II

After expounding reasons not to be journalist, here’s a little video I’ve knocked up about the things people here at City University love about doing it.

Featuring (in order) Jesse Whittock, Jenny Ruby, Chris Hall, Iain Withers (off newspaper, not mag), Stephen Eddie and Lauren Vandekar.

Why journalism?

A bit behind the times, but in his lecture last Monday Roy Greenslade put forward the view that one reason why more and more people are signing up to journalism courses is because they (misguidedly perhaps) believe that journalism leads to fame and fortune (well maybe not the latter). Apparently this year the number of applications to City has shot up (so best of luck to those of you I know have applied). Is this because all potential City bloggers have a burning desire to be the next super-celeb columnist or editor?

When Greenslade asked no-one admitted they had chosen to go into journalism in order to garner fame and plaudits. But if you have an ambition to do something to the best of your abilities and are a high achiever, then is some sort of fame or at least recognition really that out of your trajetory?

Myself, I chose to do journalism because I love writing. I was heavily involved with my student paper at university and loved every minute of it, the all-nighters, the arguments, the slow, slow computers with an early edition of Indesign and a propensity towards crashing. I also love meeting people and since coming to City doing interviews has been the highlight. I have met drug addicts, environmental campaigners, cancer sufferers, celebrities, bog snorklers and many others. I have learnt so much about subjects I had never even considered and that is what I love about this job. However, it would be churlish of me to deny that being recognised in my field wouldn’t be a nice perk, and that the idea of being famous one day isn’t just a little bit appealing.

So, what was it that made you want to get into journalism? And would you turn down fame and fortune if they came knocking?

[Note: video to follow. Once I get a handle on multimedia and stop approaching it like a monkey trying to turn on a computer. How exciting.]

10 reasons not to be a journalist

As Gary Moskowitz said in a lecture today, the money is minimal and everyone hates you (see 1 and 2), but more and more people want to be journalists. Seeing as how the dreaded credit crunch means we will all be unemployed and sleeping in bins when we graduate from City, I have compiled a list of why being a journalist is rubbish. This will make us all feel better when we are working in Dominos/KFC/Macdonalds/whichever other companies are laughing in the face of recession, while we dream of newspapers and magazines.

1. Everyone hates journalists. As I previously blogged, we are consistently voted one of the least trustworthy professions.

2. The pay. Or rather lackthereof.

3. It will swallow your life. No sleep, no social life. Only journalising.

4. We all know traditional media is dying and the future is in blogs. Anyone can blog provided they have hands. Actually, a cat could stand on a keyboard and perhaps put pressure on the right number and order of keys and post something. It might not make any sense, but neither does 98% of internet content.

5. Lack of stability, you’re only as good as your last piece of work.

6. Using twitter is practically in a journalist’s job description these days. I dislike Twitter. It confuses my simple mind. Sorry tweet fans. (Yes, I am aware of the irony of using twitter to publicise my blog, but I also drink Diet Coke and occasionally eat Nestle – massive hypocrit)

7. Journalism is one of the professions where you are expected or even required to do months of unpaid interning before getting a real job. Cue tidying the fashion cupboard, fetching lattes, doing endless research for articles and getting no credit. Hurrah.

8. You can never take anything at face value. You must question everything. You will not be able to read anything without analysing it.  Kiss goodbye to being able to enjoy things innocently. Sigh. Your friends begin to hate you as you constantly question their stories.

9. You have spend much of your time fending off PRs. And if you’re not trying to get rid of them you’re trying to charm them into giving you stuff.

10. When you hear about a tragedy, your first reaction is “Fantastic. How many people died? Anyone famous/attractive/young/who had previously triumphed over adversity?”. Where is your soul?

Anyone got any more to add? Or conversely, what is great about being a hack?

Putting the ‘I’ in journalism

Lately I’ve been thinking about how much of yourself it is appropriate to put into a piece of journalism. As an arrogant amateur at university I wrote about myself constantly, knocking out a column every issue. My ultimate ambition is to have my own column in the Charlie Brooker/Tim Dowling/Marina Hyde vain (yep, shameless Guardianista).

After being told on one of my earliest work experience to cut the froth (I’m a cappuccino of a person), I am making a concerted effort to take the word ‘I’ out of my pieces. One of my tutors is insistent that using the word ‘I’ in any piece is a crime that should be punishable by death. However, after my first writing class with doyenne of women’s magazines Marcelle D’Argy Smith, the focus was on ‘I’ as honest and confessional, the writer exposing themselves completely to the scrutiny of their reader.

I personally enjoy reading personal comment pieces that use the first person shamelessly; I like being invited into the author’s psyche. But I know others find them self-indulgent and self-obsessed.

What I do object to is when interviewers focus more on themselves than their subject. When Debra Ross, a writer I normally like, interviewed Anne Marie Duff a couple of years ago, she spent most of the article detailing her huge crush of Duff’s husband (the admittedly lovely) James McAvoy. It was all a bit embarrassing. However, I do think that the occasional ‘I’ and comment on how the interviewee interacts with the interviewer on a personal level is forgivable.

So what’s the general consensus: how much ‘I’ should there be in good journalism?