Spring 1990 – Ryerson Review of Journalism :: The Ryerson School of Journalism http://rrj.ca Canada's Watchdog on the watchdogs Sat, 30 Apr 2016 14:26:17 +0000 en-US hourly 1 Black and White and Green All Over http://rrj.ca/black-and-white-and-green-all-over/ http://rrj.ca/black-and-white-and-green-all-over/#respond Sun, 01 Apr 1990 16:55:20 +0000 http://rrj.journalism.ryerson.ca/?p=1634 Ryerson Review of Journalism graphic The day The Financial Post’s June 1989 issue of Moneywise hit the newsstands, the magazine’s editor, Catherine Collins, went out for her daily run. Setting out from Toronto’s downtown YMCA, Collins jogged past the news boxes strung out along her route. Anxiously, she glanced in to see how the magazine was selling. But what she [...]]]> Ryerson Review of Journalism graphic

The day The Financial Post’s June 1989 issue of Moneywise hit the newsstands, the magazine’s editor, Catherine Collins, went out for her daily run. Setting out from Toronto’s downtown YMCA, Collins jogged past the news boxes strung out along her route. Anxiously, she glanced in to see how the magazine was selling. But what she saw discouraged her-The Financial Post’s navy blue news boxes were still piled high with unsold copies. To Collins it looked as if the gamble she and her staff took in dedicating a whole issue of the personal finance magazine to the environment had failed.

Returning to her office on the sixth floor of Maclean Hunter’s Bay Street building, Collins went directly to se~ the magazine’s publisher to commiserate over the “flop.” Instead, she got a very pleasant surprise-Moneywise’s environment issue was selling so fast the newsboxes had already been refilled that day, some had even been restocked twice. Collins’ first impressions of the magazine’s success couldn’t have been more wrong.

The sky-blue cover of the “Investing in the Environment” issue conveyed the message of the pages within-a painted loon superimposed on a gold “loonie” dollar targeted readers who were not only interested in using their money wisely but in doing so the environmentally friendly way. Cover lines such as “Eco-Logical Products” and “Eco-Friendly Stocks” highlighted the magazine’s content.

Collins and her staff had taken a bold step to broaden environmental coverage in Canada and the move paid off in an expanded readership. “I know from the letters that came in we were bringing in people who had never picked up a financial publication in their lives,” Collins says.

The overwhelming response to the June 1989 issue of Moneywise is just one of many indications of the phenomenal increase in public interest and concern for the environment. Opinion polls consistently show the environment is the number-one issue in the minds of Canadians and in 1988, an Angus Reid poll found that 83 per cent of those surveyed ranked the environment as “very important.”

Canada, like the rest of the world, has entered an age of environmental enlightenment. Environmentalists, once thought of as the Indian-cotton and-granola set, now put on pinstripes and go downtown to do business, while big business and government scramble aboard the environmental bandwagon. Former federal Environment Minister Tom McMillan was right, it seems, when in 1988 he said, “No one wants to be on the wrong side of the public’s strong desire for environmental protection.”
Certainly, business in its recent infatuation with environmentally friendly products and services has not let public opinion polls go unnoticed. But, as the January 30, 1989, issue of Marketing magazine reported, “The recent marriage [of conservatives and conservationists] may have less to do with an awakening corporate consciousness than it does a growing realization that environmentally friendly products mean profits.

The Canadian media too, like the businesses they are, continue to monitor the marketplace-watching public opinion polls and giving their consumers (readers) what they want. One such response to reader demand was Southam’s 24-page environment supplement, two million copies of which went into 14 of the publisher’s 15 papers on October 7, 1989.

“The fact that such a profit-oriented outfit would go ahead with such a costly undertaking shows growing corporate awareness of the environment,” wrote Maclean’s columnist Charles Gordon in an October 16, 1989 piece for the magazine. “It is being assumed,” he said, “that corporations do not do things entirely out of the goodness of their hearts.”

Former Globe and Mail environment reporter Michael Keating thinks opinion poll results are “justification enough to make the environment the most important story in the media.”

Obviously media managers think so too-over the past five years, press coverage of environmental issues has increased substantially.

Chris Vander Doelen, the Windsor Star’s environment reporter for four years, says in the last two years there is “so much environmental news that I can’t keep up.” The paper now carries at least three environment stories each day to keep the paper’s 80,000 to 100,000 readers informed.

In a recent study, “Network Coverage of the Environment: Objectivity or Advocacy?”, Vancouver’s Fraser Institute found that in 1988-89 the number of environment stories on CBC’s “The National” and “The Journal” tripled over the previous year to 292.

A rough survey of the Canadian News Index, which catalogues all material published in seven major Canadian dailies, reveals that in 1985 there were close to 400 stories on the environment and related topics; by 1989 this number had risen to 1,525. Even accounting for overlap among the topics covered (acid rain, ecology, environment, greenhouse effect, pollution, polychlorinated biphenyls) and for other, smaller topic areas not enumerated, the increase is substantial.

But, while coverage of environmental issues has increased, quantity does not always mean quality. One common criticism is that the media are sensational and alarmist-only disasters and doomsday reports get full attention.

Globe and Mail business columnist Terence Corcoran, who often writes on economic/environment issues, believes there is “a lot of distortion and emotional exaggeration” in environmental coverage. Others share this view, particularly concerning the dangers of PCBs.

The fire at a PCB warehouse in St Basile-Ie-Grand, Quebec, in August 1988 set off a major public scare over the storage of toxic chemicals. Headlines such as “Killer PCBs stay threat forever” (Calgary Herald, August 25, 1988); “Properties of PCBs like Jekyll and Hyde” (Montreal Gazette, August 25, 1988); “Psychological damage feared at St-Basile” (Montreal Gazette, September 10, 1988); and “The PCB danger: no time to waste” (Vancouver Sun, September 2, 1988) were common. For residents of St-Basile-le-Grand the threat of toxic contamination seemed very real. But media coverage of the fire and subsequent controversy over removal of the PCB waste was accused of causing hysteria.

In a recent Maclean’s column, “An industry’s mania for nightmares,” George Bain quotes Dalhousie University associate vice-president for science research, Robert Fournier. Fournier, says Bain, has publicly accused journalists of doing “a lousy job” with the PCB story and Fournier has cited coverage by CBC’s “The Journal” as being “less aimed at informing people… than at scaring them half to death.”

Andre Picard covered the St-Basile fire for The Gloke and Mail. He says he has had countless letters criticizing his PCB articles. One letter he keeps posted on his bulletin board refers to Picard’s “PCB fixation.” Many of the letters come from scientists such as University of Toronto civil engineering professor Philip Jones.

Last November, Jones chaired a seminar organized by the Institute for Environmental Studies at the University of Toronto to examine evidence on the dangers of PCBs. Participants concluded that reaction to the Quebec PCB incident was totally out of proportion to the real danger and they denounced as “hysterical” the reaction of the media and the public to PCBs.

But Pat Adams, executive director of the Toronto-based environment group, Probe International, does not see PCB coverage as alarmist: “To say that the press blew the issue out of proportion is dishonest and does not reflect concern for the people [at risk].”

George Bain says much public fear comes from environmental groups which “have learned very well how to play the media game. And I think they’re playing the media like a piano on this issue.”

Similar criticisms of media coverage of nuclear energy are discussed in David Lees’ 35,000-word article, “Living in the Nuclear Shadow,” in the November 1989 issue of Toronto Life.

Lees cites the findings of Robert DuPont, an American physicist who reviewed media coverage of commercial nuclear power generation throughout the seventies. DuPont concluded, Lees says, “that the common motif was fear, that journalists covering nuclear issues were phobic.”

Lees goes on to say that the media has a vested interest in keeping fear alive. “We rarely question the credentials or motives of the boy who cries wolf. We are too often content merely to pass on the message. And by doing so, we have created a market for bad news, from readers and editors.”

It seems it is the bad-news stories that sell best, at least with editors. Michael Keating, the Globe’s environment reporter for nine years, felt this pressure at the paper. “I tried to do more wrap-up stories, putting things in perspective,” he says, “but it didn’t sell well with the city desk a lot of the time…[they] wanted the crisis, the body in the street,” Chris Vander Doelen, too, is aware of what kind of stories sell best-stories he calls “creature features”-about furry and not-so-furry animals: deer hunts to cull herds and zebra mussels invading the Great Lakes, for example. He says he doesn’t always like writing these stories and giving the bad news. “Every week the editor wants a we’re-all-going-to-die story,” Vqnder Doelen says.

But are editors totally at fault for relying on scare stories? “There is a tendency to [use] scare stories about PCBs because industry and government have done an appalling job of communicating the correct information to reporters,” says Colin Isaacs, past executive director of Pollution Probe. “Instead of dedicating energy to solve the problem, [industry and government] spend a lot of time criticizing the media.”

Getting the correct information out is a shared responsibility, says Isaacs, but coverage of the environment has been no more alarmist than coverage of the free trade agreement or the GST with the “same degree of hyperbole used.”

With regard to environmental issues, business and industry’—failure to communicate their points of view to the media is likely due to mistrust. Keating found that after he left The Globe and Mail, business contacts would approach him at conferences and be much more open to discussing business/environment issues than they had been when he was a reporter. “The business community tends to be reluctant to deal with the media,” says Keating.

Adam Zimmerman, chairman of Noranda Forest Inc., infamous for labeling environmentalists “environmental terrorists,” told the Canadian Club of Toronto last fall: “I’m suspicious of the media. It’s just the bad things that happen, and the people who are willing to say irresponsible things that are news. Good news doesn’t make good press. “

Andre Picard does not feel goaded by editors to write alarming or bad-news stories. He says you can always sell a good story to an editor, though most environment stories usually do, by their nature, bear dire tidings. There is also the danger that constant scare stories will, over time, make readers apathetic to more real dangers. Picard calls this argument “ludicrous.” “It’s not a question of degrees,” he says, “it’s a clean environment versus a contaminated one.”

“We shouldn’t get hung up on the ‘bogey men’ that we have created in the public mind to the point where we can’t give them up if they prove not to be substantiated,” advises George Bain. “We should not simply be in the business of alarming people.”
And people do need to hear more than just the environmental bad news. Catherine Collins believes the success of Moneywise’s environment issue demonstrates that what is lacking in coverage is advice.

“All the information we were reading and hearing was disaster information [the Exxon spill, the greenhouse effect, rainforest destruction], all the gloomy forecasts, but nobody was saying what to do,” says Collins.

In her June 1989 editorial, Collins dedicated the issue to the “practical things, possible things, even profitable things” we still can do for the environment. The magazine kept its word with articles on environmental charities (“Where on Earth Does Your Money Go?”) and how to invest in the ecosector (“Take a Stock. on the Wild Side”). Other stories included one on companies putting environmental protection into production; profiles of five professionals who “have gone out on a limb for nature,” and a most practical piece, “The Green House Effect,” which outlined what it takes to become an eco-conscious consumer at home. The lack of critical and informed analysis of complex issues is another frequent criticism of environmental reporting. Inadequate expertise could be the reason. Ron Smith, co-founder of the EDEN Foundation, an organization that works to link business and environment interests, sees “spotty” expertise as part of the problem. Colin Isaacs agrees, “There is a real shortage of experienced environment reporters.”

So, while the media have done a very good job of alerting people and raising public consciousness about the state of the environment, they’ve done only a mediocre job of putting things in perspective.

In his Toronto Life article, David Lees offers one explanation: “[Journalists] are often overwhelmed by the technological complexities of our material.”

Complexity leads reporters to sources (such as environment groups and industry representatives) that have a vested interest in spending time with the journalists, he says. “[This] necessarily drives us to extremist points of view. We end up stringing our stories from polarities and intoning wisely at the end”

John Godfrey, editor of The Financial Post, believes covering the environment beat is particularly challenging because “it’s not just a science question, it’s a human and political question.”

Science and environment writers have to be “specialized generalists” says Geoff Foulds, editor of the Canadian Science Writers Association newsletter, Science Link. “They must be able to understand the context of issues and recognize anomalies.” Foulds says The Globe and Mail’s science writer Stephen Strauss is particularly good at writing understandably for his audience. Strauss studied only one science course in university but grew into science writing from general feature writing assignments.
Both Ron Woznow, vice-president, environment, for the giant resource based multinational Fletcher Challenge (Canada) Ltd., and Ron Smith single out Michael Keating for his well-informed, fair reporting and for his ability to put environment stories into a broader social, political and economic context. “Keating’s work is impeccable and well grounded,” says Smith.

Keating confesses that when he requested and was granted The Globe and Mail’s environment beat in 1979 it turned out to be “a very different animal than I expected-very technical, very scientific; you have to do an awful lot of analysis of numbers and talking to scientists and translating their work into plain English.” Keating was interested in science and had a natural affinity for outdoors but had no scientific background and was by his own admission terrible in mathematics. “It took me about two years to really feel comfortable with the issues, so I sympathize with any new environment reporter it’s hard work.”

Keating finally left The Globe in 1988 when the paper decided the beat should be taken over by someone with a fresher perspective, albeit less experience. He now works as a free lancer in Toronto and has written a book, To the Last Drop, about Canada and the world’s water crisis.

To Colin Isaacs, a friend of Keating’s, the reporter’s removal was illogical; papers, he says, would benefit from reporters with expertise in one or more fields. “There aren’t enough specialized environment reporters to cover all that needs to be covered,” says Isaacs. “Every daily should have someone on the environment beat and maybe schools of journalism should encourage environment courses.”

Still, “Science writing has mushroomed tremendously in the past 20 years,” says Foulds. The CSWA now has 325 members (half of whom are reporters, writers, broadcasters, researchers) though the association hasn’t done surveys to determine the science expertise of these writers.

Another group, Outdoor Writers of Canada, has 250 freelance members who write about everything from wetland conservation to canoeing to hunting deer to nature photography. Jack Davis, a newspaper reporter and editor for 35 years, is the Ontario-based group’s executive director. Davis says only a handful of Outdoor Writers of Canada’s members have science or environment-related degrees. The quality of environmental coverage in Canada is “piss poor,” he says, because “generally the large papers do not accept environment stories. They’re afraid of them.”

Foulds says science writing and reporting has been ghettoized because’ “editors see it as a fairly narrow pursuit and not as important as politics [or] social policy.”

In June of 1989, The Globe and Mail made a move that suggested to some that Canada’s national newspaper did not see environment issues as a priority: the paper cancelled the weekly science column of geneticist and renowned environmentalist David Suzuki. Rejecting accusations that the action reflected some “right-wing bias” or “business orientation,” the paper’s associate editor, Christopher Waddell, answered one reader’s letter which had admonished The Globe for its actions. “We remain…firm in our belief that the science page requires a column about science,” Waddell wrote in June 1989, “not just one that focuses solely on the environment to the exclusion of all other sciences and scientific debates and issues.”

Environment stories are starting to take up a lot of space, but the systematic type of coverage is still not there-it tends to be spot news responding to crises. Extensive coverage is “more erratic than regular,” says Keating, citing special environment sections by The Globe and Mail and Southam’s October 1989 environment supplement. “It’s still true and still scandalous,” he says, “that the media do far better at covering cars, sports, fashion and gardening in a systematic way, than they do the environment. These other areas have preparation, editors, space assigned and research done.”

To date, media managers have been reluctant to dedicate the resources necessary to make sure those covering environmental issues have the background to provide the kind of expert coverage afforded\economic issues. To Keating, the problem lies with “middle and senior management in the media; people who grew up in an era when the environment wasn’t a major issue.”
Media managers, he says, have been “Neanderthals” and “bloody slow in waking up to evolving issues.”

Keating cites one exception-Financial Post editor John Godfrey who is “leading the pack and sending the right signals.” Since Godfrey took over at The Financial Post two years ago and the paper became a daily, more and more space has been dedicated to environmental stories, even when extrapolating for the increased number of issues. In 1987, the business paper carried six environment and related stories. By 1988, this number had risen to 33 and in 1989, it tripled to almost 100 stories on the environment.

Now, to supplement the paper’s regular coverage, an “Environment and Business” section has been added with a bimonthly column on the environment by Colin Isaacs. Godfrey says this move still fits with The Financial Post’s mandate because, “Anybody who’s enlightened will want to be responsible personally and corporately. It is smart business to be responsible and be seen to be responsible.”

Godfrey sees two roles for the media: first as a watchdog, to take something that’s not fashionable and say “look out for this;” secondly, to take a look at a sensational event and, while you have people’s attention, broaden the event to have deeper debate and understanding of a subject. Perhaps this is one reason media’s managers have been unsystematic in covering the environment. Perhaps they, unlike Godfrey, have yet to sort out what their role should be.

“There needs to be an environmental ethic for the fifth estate,” says Ron Woznow. “Papers need to establish environment policy statements just like government and business have because the environment is a unique issue for which the media should not polarize people.”

With the environment, Catherine Collins maintains that the press should go beyond just reporting the news. “You keep the issue in front of people…and you keep it fresh.”

But are the media willing to take such an active role? “It’s a tricky question,” Collins says, “because I know the media is really there to report, to be a weathervane of what’s going on. But these are different times and we’re running out of time-and I do believe that.”

There may be a place for some advocacy journalism (witness newspaper literacy campaigns). But, as the Fraser Institute’s report points out, “While advocacy journalism allows chronic problems to be emphasized, journalists themselves must decide which problems are worthy of this emphasis.”

Whatever action the media take, their role is crucial. Perception of such a far-reaching issue as the state of the global environment cannot come just from looking in one’s own backyard-it must come from a broader source. That source is the media.

A recent Angus Reid poll supports this. Eighty-six per cent of respondents listed television, newspapers, radio and magazines as their primary source of information on environmental issues, compared with one or two per cent listing information from governments and environmental organizations.

Terence Corcoran says that in the end, the argument between the need for jobs and profits versus a cleaner environment will be settled by “the most successful manipulator of public opinion.”

With Moneywise’s next environment issue (April 1990), Collins says, “We’re going to put a little more onus on individuals, who have to be prepared to accept a strong element of sacrifice if they want, really want, to turn things around.” Inspired by the response to the June 1989 issue, Moneywise has already launched a new “EcoWise” column of information and advice on the link between the environment and the econolliy.

All of this assumes that people will continue to take an interest in reading about the environment, however bad the news. “Sure, people will like to hear more good news but they’re not going to get tired of hearing bad news,” says Keating. “People don’t get tired of hearing coverage of war because [they] want to know what’s coming at [them] tomorrow-it’s self-interest and fear.”

But as Ian Lightstone, a principal of the Toronto marketing research firm Thompson Lightstone and Company, commented in Marketing magazine, “We are still only at the lip-service stage as far as taking any concrete action is concerned.”

A recent Economist article asked the inevitable question about the heightened interest in green products: “How long will it last?” In the past, such concerns have tended to be the product of prosperity, disappearing once oil shocks or recessions make people poorer. But maybe this time concern for the environment will override worries about the bank balance.

A 1989 Globe and Mail-CBC News poll found that “a majority of Canadians believe that air and water pollution must be eliminated, even if it means sollie people will lose their jobs.” And 80 per cent of those Canadians polled by Angus Reid in 1988 said they would be willing to pay more for environmentally friendly products.

Others are doubtful. “We tend to be sort of faddish on this,” Bain says. “It’s one of those things to be terribly, terribly for until it starts to hit home at your own convenience.” And if the public’s interest does wane, will the media’s then fade accordingly?

Keating compares the increase in environmental coverage to the increase in the earth’s temperature due to the greenhouse effect-graphed as a jagged line continually rising. From now on, he predicts, the temperature and coverage will be increasing in ever greater amounts. “A generation of people has grown up with these issues a generation of people who are very concerned, and rightfully so, about their future and want to write about it and communicate it.”

Collins thinks it’s most important to “not lose sight of the whole issue, that we have an irreplaceable, beautiful world-and that’s what’s at stake.”

EDEN’s Smith rests this stake on the shoulders of the media. “I am a firm believer,” he says “that those who control the media control minds. The media is going to be the determining factor in the fate of the species.”

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As the Newsworld Turns http://rrj.ca/as-the-newsworld-turns/ http://rrj.ca/as-the-newsworld-turns/#respond Sun, 01 Apr 1990 16:53:34 +0000 http://rrj.journalism.ryerson.ca/?p=1627 Newsworld’s was the most publicized and anticipated Canadian TV launch in memory-an encouraging start for a network that promised all news to all people.

But so far CBC’s 24-hour news and information channel with its “uniquely Canadian perspective” has not been a threat to either conventional news programs or the pay-TV channel, Cable News Network, its successful US model. Last November, the Atlanta-based network recorded its highest ratings ever during its live coverage of the aftermath of the California earthquake. CNN was on the air within seconds of the quake with continuous updates and eyewitness reports via radio and telephone.
Newsworld took almost an hour to broadcast anything resembling first-hand accounts of the quake. The network later linked satellites with a San Francisco-Bay area television station. The same evening, while CNN provided coverage throughout the night, Newsworld resumed its regular programming, broadcasting news bulletins every 10 minutes or so. However, these bits of information were hardly enough to satisfy concerned and curious viewers.

Despite Newsworld’s lackluster coverage of the earthquake, the network has been praised for its reporting of Canadian news. For instance, the inquiry into the Air Ontario crash in Dryden may never have been covered so extensively by the media if Newsworld had not carried the story. Newsworld, viewers, after witnessing flight attendant Sonia Hartwick’s heartbreaking testimony as one of the survivors of the crash, called and wrote to the network congratulating it for broadcasting the inquiry.
Newsworld came through again in early December during its live coverage of the mass killing of female students at the Universite de Montreal. The story went to air seconds after it came across the wires at 5:57 p.m. At six o’clock, anchors Carol Adams and Whit Fraser provided updates. But for the most part credit goes to the crew at “Newswatch,” the local CBC newscast in Montreal. Lynn Herzeg was sent to the university in a microwave van equipped for live transmission back to the CBC. She was on the air at 7:07. Unfortunately, microwave vans require a clear line to the home base and Mount Royal was blocking the way. Even so, Newsworld kept airing reports. It interrupted its regular programs with eyewitness accounts, interviews with doctors and updates from the police. As Toronto Star columnist Antonia Zerbisias put it, “For Canadians in shock, [Newsworld] was the only source of steady, solid information.”

When it comes to live coverage of breaking stories, Newsworld will likely serve its purpose. But if the network can showcase its talent only when an important story breaks, is Newsworld’s 24-hour-a-day programming too much of a good thing?

Opinions vary. Television columnists praise Newsworld for its regional coverage and its function as a Canadian alternative to CNN. “Canadians are insatiable informationgatherers,” says Greg Quill, columnist for The Toronto Star. “Yet we are always suspicious of American news and the way American values which are vastly different than ours-infiltrate their news reporting. We feel more comfortable with our own style and perceptions.” Brian Johnson, entertainment writer for Maclean’s, says it is not particularly a Canadian perspective that we need-just a lack of an American one. Says Johnson: “I’d much rather see stories on American politics from an unbiased, objective view.”

But media critic George Bain insists Newsworld is not necessary. “I get more than I want or need from standard media programs and newspapers,” he says. Bain is also concerned with what he sees as the increasing media concentration in the CBC. The CBC runs many television and radio programs including “The National,” “The Journal” and Newsworld. Says Bain: “It is dangerous to have one corporate entity with a controlling influence on the Canadian public mind.” As Bain says, any company that gets most of its revenue from one source can scarcely be impartial.
Not so, says Johnson. “The CBC is strict in following its code of impartiality. In fact, CBC documentaries need to portray a stronger point of view.”

Joan Donaldson, head of Newsworld, compares “The National” and “The Journal”
to a beautiful lake. “If you want to sit and be informed in a professional, journalistically sound, good-looking hour,” she says, “then they’re absolutely first-rate. Newsworld, on the other hand, is a river which is, compared to a lake, a lot rawer, a lot tougher and sometimes shallower.”

Mark Starowicz, executive producer of “The Journal,” says CBC’s control over the programs is irrelevant and that there is a healthy competition between the programs. “I see different perspectives taking place on the same stories,” he says. “That’s the argument for multiple newspapers in a city, so why shouldn’t there be multiple television news programs?”

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The Next Fix http://rrj.ca/the-next-fix/ http://rrj.ca/the-next-fix/#respond Sun, 01 Apr 1990 16:51:54 +0000 http://rrj.journalism.ryerson.ca/?p=1620 Ryerson Review of Journalism graphic It was a whale of a story. Trapped beneath the Arctic ice were three California grey whales. They were stranded by an early freeze that October 1988 and were breathing through a shrinking hole in the ice. They would surely die. However, an Inuit hunter soon spotted them and informed biologists back in the village. [...]]]> Ryerson Review of Journalism graphic

It was a whale of a story.

Trapped beneath the Arctic ice were three California grey whales. They were stranded by an early freeze that October 1988 and were breathing through a shrinking hole in the ice. They would surely die.

However, an Inuit hunter soon spotted them and informed biologists back in the village. Curious, the scientists videotaped the mammals, then contacted the coast guard for help. An Anchorage newspaper caught wind of this, investigated and ran it as a front-page story. This in turn interested a local TV station which sent the video footage south where it played on national television. That evening a whale’s snout burst upon millions of screens. It lunged through an ice hole and sprayed water across a bleak, frozen backdrop. These poor creatures were hanging on for dear life!

In no time, 26 broadcasting companies and nearly one hundred print reporters (from as far as Australia) invaded the outpost of Barrow, Alaska. The journalists noted every development in the drama: the icebreaker cometh, Greenpeace and the National Guard to the rescue, and the Russians are coming! The Russians are coming! Then, on the fourteenth day a team of government-hired Inuit cut a series of holes leading the mammals to open water.

The whales were free!

That same day in Barrow a house fire incinerated three Inuit children. Their driftwood shack sat across from the fire station which was empty. The firemen had knocked off early, exhausted from a week of cutting holes in the ice. The fire was never reported.

Media circus. Feeding frenzy. Riding the bandwagon. Pack journalism. It has many names, but one meaning and that is the denigration of journalism. When it strikes, journalists become unthinking, fearful and just silly: enshrining Oliver North, revealing Barbara Dodd’s sex life and taking us all to Woodstock…again. What’s worse, it makes journalists uncritical and passive, and opens them to manipulation.

Corporations know. Coca-Cola Limited surely adored all the publicity surrounding its new Coke in 1985. Governments, too, are wise. Said Lyndon Johnson once: “Reporters are puppets. They merely respond to the pull of the most powerful strings.” In 1964, LBJ jerked the strings when North Vietnamese boats “attacked” two US destroyers in the Gulf of Tonkin. Johnson and his successor, Mr. Nixon, kept tugging for seven years-eventually spilling the “Vietnam conflict” into neighboring Laos-until a former US defence official stepped forward and revealed The Pentagon Papers to The New York Times and The Washington Post.

In 1990, the puppets dance to the War on Drugs. Papers “investigate” teenage overdoses. Newsweeklies declare “A Deadly Plague of Drugs.” TV cameras stake out Times Square in search of crack traffic. All this despite an across-the-board decline in drug use since the late seventies. All this while poverty, unemployment and despair -the roots of drug abuse-fester beneath the nose of the media. Instead, their eyes are fixed on the latest FBI vs. drug baron showdown, being played out far from the under-funded rehabilitation centres.

Battles, of course, are the archetypical news story: a black and white conflict. Poverty, on the other hand, is too complicated to explain in a sound bite or a 21-word lead. Further, poverty has been done before. After all, news is “new.” New was the Sandinistas, then nuclear disarmament, then Ethiopia, then apartheid, then Qaddafi, then Iranscam, then the intifada, and now, in early 1990, the environment. These stories have always lurked around, but each rises to the surface only when the media decide to shine a spotlight on its face. Then, all eyes zero in on that one event and all mouths repeat the same facts. It becomes the Crisis of the Week. And what does the public think?

“It’s the old self-fulfilling prophecy,” wrote Tom Wolfe. “Once it’s on TV and allover the newspapers, people figure it’s important. They figure they got to get excited about it.”

And they figure that the media must be right, that it must be true. Just ask Susan Nelles.

The fact is that 7,000 Third World children die each day of dehydration and it’s normal; a local baby falls into a well and it’s headline coverage. Journalism is a business that capitalizes on the misery of others. It sells murders, rapes, bombings, natural disaster, business corruption, private scandal and political upheaval to a waiting audience. Journalists can impart meaning to this suffering and encourage change. But journalists can also manufacture hysteria and promote ignorance. Instead of communicating knowledge and ideas, journalists say a lot of nothing.

And that’s a story.

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Lost Horizon http://rrj.ca/lost-horizon/ http://rrj.ca/lost-horizon/#respond Sun, 01 Apr 1990 16:48:06 +0000 http://rrj.journalism.ryerson.ca/?p=1605 Ryerson Review of Journalism graphic The first anniversary issue of Vista had just hit the newsstand when its publisher, John Dunlop, quit. Dunlop, who launched “Canada’s Alternative Business Magazine” in November 1988, ha~ objected to recent cutbacks proposed by a planning committee. Three Magna executives, who had no publishing experience, arrived to look into the operation. They suggested fewer issues, [...]]]> Ryerson Review of Journalism graphic
The first anniversary issue of Vista had just hit the newsstand when its publisher, John Dunlop, quit. Dunlop, who launched “Canada’s Alternative Business Magazine” in November 1988, ha~ objected to recent cutbacks proposed by a planning committee. Three Magna executives, who had no publishing experience, arrived to look into the operation. They suggested fewer issues, a lighter paper stock, cheaper headquarters and lay-offs, effective immediately. Frank Stronach’s magazine was hemorrhaging money.
 The staff knew somebody had to go. In her 16 years of magazines, managing editor Liz Primeau had seen both sides of the firing line and anticipated a difficult decision. Only six months earlier, soon after she started, editor Rod McQueen was fired. But to Jackie Kovacs, a recent journalism graduate and the longest-surviving member of the editorial staff, waiting to hear Who and When was the worst part. She saw the first editor, Mac Parry, depart after only four issues. Now, her current editor, Joann Webb, hinted at resigning if she couldn’t live with the cutbacks.

As it turned out, Stronach couldn’t live with the magazine. In March, he announced the final cut: he was selling Vista. The most expensive magazine in Canada seemed ready to vanish from Stronach’s horizon.

The world is full of criticism. It’s critics, critics, critics. Besides criticizing, we also should have solutions. So this national magazine I visualize as a form of education, a form of provocation, a form of information and a form of solutions.”

So declared Frank Stronach in The Globe and Mail, June 1987. For the past 29 years, Stronach had championed Fair Enterprise-his socioeconomic vision where entrepreneurs would rule by sharing their riches. An Austrian immigrant, Stronach had forged a tool-and-die shop into a $1billion-a-year auto parts empire called Magna International. The self-made millionaire became a hero to young MBAs as well as to leftist writer Rick Salutin. But it wasn’t enough.

In 1986, he had launched Focus on York, a lifestyle monthly delivered across the affluent region north of Toronto where Magna flourished. He bought half a radio station, CKAN, and established a video company, Tier One Communications, and was considering politics. Now, he wanted to promote Fair Enterprise.

The self-styled philosopher-king boasted that his magazine would’ fill the “vacuum” left by such “mediocre” publications as Business Week, The Financial Post and The Globe itself. His magazine would include the standard lifestyle and entertainment fare, but also offer solutions to the nation’s social and economic ills. It would be daring. It wou}d be different. It would be, envisioned Stronach, a manifesto for people with “hopes and dreams and aspirations to be economically free.”

Gerry Barker thought he had already found his way. The previous summer Barker had heard that Frank Stronach needed media people to start a national magazine. Recognizing an opportunity, the 55-year-old Toronto Star assistant managing editor contacted Magna and was hired.

After helping launch Focus on York, Barker got the word around March: “I want you to take this whole thing over and get it up and get it running.”

Barker wasn’t clear what “it” was, nor did he believe Stronach knew. For one thing, Stronach wanted to reach university students, “the people of the future,” but that meant a weak advertising base. “Certainly they’ll go along with it,” replied Barker, “but I think you should do more research about the audience.” Then, Stronach wanted to hire an editor-first. Barker insisted on a publisher. The chief relented, only on the condition that the “quarterback” come from magazines. Barker, a newspaper man, would be general manager and with the publisher lay the groundwork.

Barker recruited John Dunlop, who was heading Homemakers. Before, Dunlop had been a research and business development manager at Maclean Hunter, Saturday Night’s advertising and sales director, then an executive at Comac Communications where he directed sales for the now-defunct Quest. Quite a resume for a biochemistry try major who never dreamed of a publishing career. Certainly he impressed Stronach, who in turn convinced Dunlop that he was serious about starting a magazine. As his fortieth birthday approached, John Dunlop left Homemakers and became Magna’s vice-president of communications in August 1987.

Though enthusiastic, Dunlop and Barker had little with which to shape what Dunlop called Stronach’s “ethereal, gossamer notion” into a consumer magazine. It was hard enough convincing Stronach that using the magazine as a pulpit for Fair Enterprise would ruin its credibility. Nonetheless, that December they managed to unveil their business plan to Magna. Dressed in marketing lingo was the “Survival Guide to the Future.” Like a crystal ball, the magazine would foresee opportunities for success in economics, politics and lifestyle, all answering the question, What does this mean to you? The reader wouldn’t be defined by age or income, but by mind set-entrepreneurs. This greed manual called for a “maverick” editor, someone of intelligence and style, of diplomacy and inspiration. And the magazine would be called Vista.

Stronach was sold. He entrusted Romulus and Remus (Dunlop’s nickname for himself and Barker) with $10 million to cover the first five years of projected start-up losses. The cost was the highest ever in Canadian magazmes.

As Dunlop assembled a sales and a production team, Barker left on a continental odyssey searching for a computer publishing system, eventually choosing an Apple Macintosh. Together, the “twins” hunted for office space and an editor.

Dunlop approached Nick Steed who consulted on the business plan. Steed had been the founding editor of Quest, a service magazine for men and an inspiration of sorts to Vista. But Steed didn’t have the time for Vista (and wound up as the editorial consultant instead). Dunlop and Barker then searched Toronto, but found that no one wanted to work for a magazine of Frank Stronach’s. About to run for federal office, Stronach was so annoyed with his recent press coverage that he granted interviews only to reporters who printed his every word. Recalls Barker: “A lot of really good editors out there said, ‘This guy just doesn’t understand the publishing business.’ “

With time running out, the “twins” looked abroad and found their man out west-Mac Parry.

“Mac’s like the gunslinger that walks into the saloon at midnight and wants things to happen,” says Barker. “It was always on the brink with him.”

To Mac Parry Vista was a long way from Vancouver. As the city magazine’s editor, the outspoken Parry knew his turf and his personnel. It showed with the Western Magazine Awards (two for best publication) and in his longevity (,13 years before leaving for sister publication, Western Living). Vista, on the other hand, would speak to the entire country atop a plateau of immense capital. It was to be a new kind of business magazine and to set it apart, Vista needed the spark which Dunlop recognized in Parry’s Vancouver.

“The main thing is that Mac Parry will be running it,” Parry boasted to Masthead. “This is my personality.”
The personality called for lavish visuals, no “boring corporate photography.” The editor also sought a young, ambitious staff, people he could turn to and say, “Here’s an opportunity-do what you can with it.” And Parry envisioned correspondents as far as London and Hong Kong to be directed by “remote control. “That included himself. For one week a month Parry would work from his Vancouver home (with his family), linked to Toronto via modem and fax machine. At other times, he would stay in Toronto as part of his $100,000 annual arrangement. “He actually wanted to break all the rules,” says Parry’s first employee, Jackie Kovacs. “He wanted us to be forward-thinking and spotting trends… a magazine based in Canada but for anyone entrepreneurial-minded.”

Kovacs had just graduated from Ryerson after working on the Review of Journalism. She was looking for a job that May in 1988 when, on the eve of her twenty-second birthday, Parry hired her, based on an interview and an instructor’s recommendation.

She began work a month later at the messy, uptown offices dubbed “Beirut.” For the sales department, she helped complete the prototype in which Parry mapped some points of his vision: opportunities, trends, success, travel, alternative investment and health. Otherwise Kovacs had little to do, except field Parry’s Dickensian faxes. Finally, in mid- July, Vista moved into “the penthouse,” 12,000 square feet atop the Grey Canada Building in Yuppie midtown Toronto. Everything was new, down to the lobby, which was a two-storey atrium that sheltered a pair of lovely, green trees made of expensive plastic.

After unpacking, Parry and Kovacs began taming the computer system, then a rare beast among Canadian magazines. Meanwhile, Dunlop was sparing no expense over the coming November launch. To attract advertisers, he promised them a 100,000 circulation rate base and spent almost $100,000 on a video. To test reader response he (with the circulation and advertising departments) mailed five creative packages to potential subscribers; their replies would determine how much business, lifestyle or trend watching coverage the magazine should feature. “We’re looking for hot buttons for the consumer,” Dunlop told Marketing. “There’s no point in creating a product if no one wants to buy it.”

But Parry hadn’t created any product, and didn’t begin until he hired more staff. Even then they were shorthanded, not to mention largely inexperienced (all under 30). So two months before the premiere, the penthouse turned into a frat house. New computers, new roles and new relationships struggled under a disorganized editor to create a vague magazine. For one thing, they didn’t have a house style (Kovacs: “We just knew we had to use Webster’s.”), and Parry assigned features very late, including the cover story (“We brought in extra folks to fact check.”).

By all accounts it was a hellish but spirited ride. “It was quite an experience,” recalls assistant editor Peter Hendra, who had been sitting in a classroom with Kovacs five months earlier. “In school you get the idea that you’ll be one of 10 fact-checkers at some magazine. But I was checking tons of stories all at once and copy editing. Maybe it was too much work. “Beyond the hum of the “frat house,” tales of Frank Stronach’s new magazine buzzed around Toronto. Stronach had already taken knocks for gracing a cover of Focus on York after stepping down as Magna’s CEO and announcing his Liberal candidacy. Now there were tales of an abrasive, Vancouver editor “interviewing” Toronto women writers for this coming magazine.

“He asked me what my age was,” recalls Saturday Night contributing editor Anne Collins. “He asked me if I was Jewish.” She wasn’t. “That’s no good,” Parry recalls saying in their fiveminute chat. He explained he was looking for people “representing as many points of view and backgrounds as possible” and, yes, it was a joke. However, Collins didn’t get it and neither did others.

Writer and Ryerson instructor John Gault heard this and other stories, and cautioned his magazine class about Parry. In Toronto’s magazine village, word ricocheted back to Vista and Mac Parry: “The next I heard about it… I reportedly said, ‘That’s good,’ the total reversal of what I said.” Soon after, Parry was at CBC studios near Ryerson. Being in the neighborhood, Parry dropped into Gault’s class-unannounced-and invited them to see

Vista. But students recall a tense encounter and the showdown hit the gossip columns.

“In hindsight I realize that I probably was hotheaded,” says Parry a year later, but adds: “Frankly, I expected to be made a little more welcome in Toronto.” The impression he got at the time was that “climbing-in-with-that-geek-from-the-coast-in- Toronto was not considered the right thing to do by certain people.” Reflects Gault: “I’m sorry the Mac Parry affair exploded the way it did. On a noble level, I wanted to be a counterforce to what I perceived as an attitude which, in my terms, was detrimental to my craft. On a less noble level I was being a gossip. We [journalists] dine out on gossip. We adore gossip.” But Jackie Kovacs saw it differently: “I was really annoyed that these people I admired so much were so narrow-minded and so incestuous and so gossipy. I knew what Mac was like. He isn’t sexist. He isn’t anti-Semitic. He’s not racist. But I can see how one may get that impression, because he’s very flippant and he’s very sarcastic.”

The talk grew when a month later and a week after Stronach’s election loss-Vista hit the newsstands. OPPORTUNITIEIS, INNOVATIONS, SUCCESS, POWER, PROFIT trumpeted the “greed bar,” a narrow, red strip across the top, while below it proclaimed “Billion Dollar Trends for the 1990s.” A photo inset of an American woman with an IQ of 228 graced the cover of Canada’s newest business magazine, while in the background loomed a horizon, either a sunrise or a sunset.

It was a slick package: 128 pages of perfect-bound 10 x 9-inch oversize trim and 70-pound matte-coated Finnish stock. But, inside lay a mess. The cover story they barely finished was an endless 21 pages of predictions, ranging from hotels to New Age religion. Service pieces about film production and investment in Australia confused rather than enlightened the entrepreneur. A profile of boxer Donny Lalonde was caught out of its deadline, running two months after Lalonde’s defeat by Sugar Ray Leonard. Parry’s profile of Vancouver Stock Exchange crusader, Adrian du Plessis, was reworked after a dispute with the subject (who originally submitted an overlong expose of the VSE). The only bright spot was Doug Coupland’s “Generation X,” an ingenious study of the dispossessed, post-Boomer generation, complete with comic strip (that would be a regular feature). But this was a hollow victory, considering an earlier version had appeared 14 months earlier in Vancouver.

In his CBC “Media File” review, Toronto writer David Hayes found the editorial most distressing of all: “If you see yourself as adventurous, Vista is for you. If you would agree that you are confident, influential and sophisticated, Vista is for you. If you are forward looking, optimistic and motivated by healthy self-interest, Vista is for you”

“This isn’t a statement of editorial philosophy,” said Hayes. “It’s a message to advertisers written in modem marketing mumbo-jumbo. There is no indication of any clearly defined guiding principles. The only thing in this first issue is a promise to advertisers that Vista will deliver an upscale, self-obsessed consumer.”

Parry, who doesn’t write editorials, copied the lines from promotional material. Still, if the editor couldn’t describe his magazine, who could?

“I don’t think that it necessarily was going to be sharply focussed on its first issue,” says senior editor Jim Cormier. “We were feeling around a bit, trying to find a new kind of business magazine.”

John Fraser, editor of Canada’s oldest magazine, sympathized with the newcomer: “Knowing from my own experience at Saturday Night, it really takes a better part of a year to put your mark on a magazine.” But he adds: “It [Vista] was working too hard to be a very attractive medium to advertisers rather than about what it was going to be as a magazine.”

Marketing said it all: “You’d think with all the money that’s been poured into this thing, editor Malcolm Parry and publisher John Dunlop could have come up with something that has a little more sizzle. Maybe next month.” Next month.

Beneath the cover line, BIG CITY POWER, was a photo of a lingerie-clad blonde gazing from the back seat of a taxi. The cover story, “Knockin’ em dead in the undie world” was a fluff piece about a west-coast lingerie designer. This was Vista’s second issue.

“I think that was really insulting to anybody,” says former Toronto Life art director Teresa Fernandes, “particularly to women.” Masthead editor Doug Bennet found the cover not only embarrassing but confusing: “I couldn’t quite figure out what the hell it was doing in a business magazine.” Neither could writers, editors and advertising agencies who wondered whether Vista was a business, lifestyle or even a fashion magazine. Yet, one thing was certain, and that was Parry’s reputation. “It seemed to have entered the common law,” says Parry in hindsight, “that this [cover] was big, ole sexy guy Mac Parry’s contribution to national journalism. Well, I’m fuckin’ embarrassed by it”

Stronach wasn’t pleased either. Parry claims that Dunlop suggested he return to Vancouver in June 1989; Jim Cormier would take over and Parry become a consul ting editor. Parry says the date was moved to April, then to now. “Frank says you got to go,” he was told. “We’ll offer you a deal.” Dunlop though, insists that the distance between Vancouver and Toronto, and that between Parry and Toronto’s journalists prompted Parry’s firing. “I have to make this magazine work and I didn’t have the luxury…of waiting for people in the literary community here to understand that Mac Parry didn’t have horns or a big forked stick.” Dunlop adds that Parry’s stay was always to be temporary, even though Parry signed a three-year contract.

Essentially, Parry feels that Dunlop and Stronach lacked the nerve to stick it through the launch. “They seemed to be more concerned about, ‘Oh, my golly, we’re getting this ad out Whereas from the very beginning,’ Vista was portrayed as a relatively impregnable organization that could sail through start-up difficulties.” That January there was little room for talk anyway. Stronach had already found a replacement. Suddenly, it was only a matter of numbers: a $70,000 settlement and a turnover date of February 3.

“Okay, you scum. Get into the office,” called Parry.

“Sure, yeah, yeah,” the staff replied.

“We’ll be there in a second.” “No, this is important. Come in here now.” The staff gathered in his office. There they saw John Dunlop and another fellow. Parry gripped his chair. Before he said anything the staff knew he had been fired.. Then the stranger introduced himself as Rod McQueen, the new editor: “I just want you to know that I’m nobody’s man but my own.”

The staff missed the irony. Upset, they filed out of the office, went to lunch and drank away the afternoon in a long good-bye. To Jackie Kovacs it was a shock. After all, this was the man who gave her her first chance out of school. But as she later realized, Parry’s firing was a good lesson: “Magazines are a business.”

Parry was out Friday and McQueen in Monday. The staff noted the differences. The former editor was playful and spontaneous, the other formal and meticulous. At 44, the other was an award-winning business writer for Toronto Life, Canadian Business’ and Fortune. From 1978 to 1982 he was the business editor then managing editor of Maclean’s and Magna’s latest vicepresident of communications. Rod McQueen seemed perfect for Vista.

He cleaned up the frat house. To enforce deadlines, McQueen hired Joann Webb, a Maclean’s colleague who had just been ousted from rival Canadian Business as editor. For accuracy he recruited Prue Hemelrijk, the legendary fact-checker. He rounded out the editorial staff in June with Liz Primeau, founding editor of Ontario Living. And, in contrast to Parry, McQueen used his contacts to enlist some outstanding writers: Robert Fulford, Judith Timson and…John Gault. Now, Vista was a magazine. But of what type?

“Stories with a Vista twist will have the research heft of Fortune, the writing style of Vanity Fair and the cheek of Private Eye,” announced McQueen in his first editorial. The first sign already appeared on the April cover (Parry’s fourth and last issue). Gone was the greed bar, the inset and the horizon. In its place was Brian Mulroney’s grinning face tacked onto the body of matador Peter Hendra, a la Spy. May’s cover looked like Saturday Night with three athletes posed before a baseball diamond. June was Vanity Fair month, with its soft-focus shot of Shirley MacLaine, really a come-on for a throwaway, two-page profile. The confusion spread inside: a fashion layout, a feature on sports tickets, even a critical piece about business journalism. Instead of “Catching the Billion-Dollar Wave,” the Survival Guide to The Future now advised “How office cokeheads and boozers can finally get help.” Vista was many magazines, but not its own.

Concerned, Stronach hired market researchers to recover Vista’s identity. Dunlop was more distressed: “Rod was laking the magazine into the general interest area. This was going to be an alternative business magazine. We can do material that might be general interest; as long as you can make a business spin on it, I think you can make it work.”

But McQueen didn’t, at least not in his publisher’s eyes. Their visions clashed.

“The last couple of weeks I was aware, just from Rod’s demeanor, that he was troubled by something,” recalls Liz Primeau. After meetings with Dunlop, McQueen returned to his office with his head down. “Oh, hi Rod,” Primeau said. “Nice day?” McQueen looked up, silent. Primeau paused and replied, “I guess it isn’t a nice day after all.” And he grinned.

McQueen met with John Dunlop for the last time on the morning of June 30. Half an hour later, McQueen emerged.. He returned to his office, rounded up the staff and calmly told them that he was fired. He packed and left by noon.

Recalling Parry, the old guard was outraged. “What the hell is going on here?” thought Jackie Kovacs. “What is it-three issues per editor? Is this the quarterly-editor syndrome?”

Others wondered too. Some suggested McQueen was fired for misnaming Canadian astronaut, Ken Money, “Ed” Money, on the July/August cover, McQueen’s last issue. Wrong. Others believed the dismissal was over a personality conflict between Dunlop and McQueen. Yet others simply looked at the 6agazine and wondered if after two editors in eight months Vista could survive.
Joann Webb: “A year or two into the start-up, a whole pile of staff are no longer there. There has been much gnashing of teeth and much difficulty. Then, things settled down”

Webb picked up the September issue in mid-production after McQueen left. The content was all his and the cover, which he had restored, was Parry’s, down to the horizon and the inset. In turn, Webb softened the greed bar by adding TRENDS, REWARDS and INSIGHT, tagged “Canada’s Alternative Business Magazine” above it, and added a final touch-a bird. “It says the future.”

Since then, she’s given the magazine some depth and a clearer identity. One new department, Green Power, examines the relationship between business and the environment. Another, Solutions, offers “answers to the larger social problems,” such as the national debt and the penal system, and appears on recycled paper. Though still aimed at innovators and entrepreneurs, her Vista looks at business in a “larger social context.” Says Webb: “I think there’s room in the Canadian market place for a magazine that reinvents the business magazine.”

But it’s grown more difficult. Frank Stronach resumed the wheel at Magna last November in order to steer the corporation out of massive debt. When he dispatched the planning committee, Vista’s total spending ran between $6 and $8 million. Suddenly, instead of nine issues per year there would be eight, no longer 70-pound stock but 62 or so, and a move to cheaper offices. The group also cut down on staff in all departments, including one from editorial, Liz Primeau.

This instability unnerves advertisers who list Vista among “secondary publications” such as Goodlife and Equinox, instead of with Report on Business and Canadian Business of the “primary buy” group. In its first year of publishing Vista carried 21 I pages of advertising compared to Canadian Business’ 885 and Small Business’ 504. Add to that the impending goods and services tax, free trade and a looming recession. In a country where four out of five magazines die by the fifth year, Frank

Stronach’s Vista may go down as the fanciest dive in history.

“The good thing about Vista is that it provides an outlet for good writers and photographers,” says Report on Business Magazine editor, Margaret Wente. “I just don’t think the whole package of the magazine will find enough readers to make it pay.” Even the magazine’s founders have their doubts. Gerry Barker (who left Vista before the cuts) doesn’t believe it will last another year. John Dunlop, who envisioned a profitable, international Vista by 1992, couldn’t live with the revised plan.

“My mandate…was to build a Porsche and not a Volkswagen,” said Dunlop, shortly before resigning last Christmas.

Webb, though, remains hopeful. Even after Stronach announced that Vista was for sale, she told The Globe and Mail, “It is business as usual.” At 38, she has years of experience not to mention a thick skin. She lost the editorship at Harrowsmith (during a family ownership squabble) and at Canadian Business (in a housecleaning). At Vista, Webb is determined to stay. Besides assuming more editorial work, Webb had asked for a say in the magazine’s financial decisions. Belinda Stronach, the new general manager, had been helping her. At 23, Belinda has no magazine publishing experience but does have Frank Stronach as a father.

But Magna is a leaking ship and Stronach is throwing Vista overboard. A magazine needs strong editorial, healthy capital and sound management to survive. Under Stronach, Vista never had all three at the same time.

“I guess I expected things to be smoother than they have been,” says Jackie Kovacs, “but I’ve learned a Lot. I was talking to Rick Salutin about this some time ago… ‘Can you believe this?’ And he said, ‘Oh, no Jackie, this is great. This is the kind of shit you want to happen in your first year out of school. If this happened when you were well into your career, it would be just devastating. But right now you have nothing to lose-this is the best time for things to just go weird.’ “

“Well, I thought, it’s true, because whatever happens here is not really my fault because I’m not important enough. But it sure is interesting to watch.”

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What’s up Doc? http://rrj.ca/whats-up-doc/ http://rrj.ca/whats-up-doc/#respond Sun, 01 Apr 1990 16:43:19 +0000 http://rrj.journalism.ryerson.ca/?p=1577 Canadian filmmaker Paul Cowan personifies the financial struggle of Canada’s independent documentary community. When Cowan failed to find $400,000 to make a documentary about Donald Miarshall Jr., but secured $2 million to produce the idea as a movie, he lent credence to what Canadian documentary maker Magnus Isacsson called a “crisis in documentary.”

This crisis can be attributed to the preeminence of television infotainment-the eighties version of pre-masticated news and current affairs. The emergence of this hybrid of news and entertainment made broadcasters reluctant to rock the political boat or to challenge social values-apparently in deference to powerful advertisers with political interests. So it is not surprising that point-of-view documentaries have been ravaged by networks. But thanks to Telefilm Canada, a publicly funded institution whose credo is to invest in “high-quality, culturally relevant Canadian television programs,” producers of Canadian documentaries may now have an opportunity to create films which challenge more traditional journalistic ideas of balance and objectivity.

This year, Telefilm has added $16.5 million to its Auxiliary Fund, which finances dramas, documentaries, children’s programs and variety programs. Noel Cormier, Telefilm’s director of policy and planning, insists that most of the funds are earmarked for drama and documentary. Though perhaps more importantly, Telefilm has lowered its unwritten regional broadcast licensing requirements from 15 to 10 per cent for documentaries costing under $500,000.

Simply put, a broadcast licensing fee is the amount of money networks are willing to invest up front on the production of films. So on a documentary whose projected cost is $300,000, an independent producer must now obtain 10 per cent ($30,000) from the network(s) rather than the 15 per cent ($45,000) previously required.

When the licensing fee is obtained, a producer becomes eligible for Telefilm financing, which, if granted, will cover 30 to 49 per cent of projected total costs. The amount of the award depends on such criteria as Canadian content, quality of the script, business outlook and experience of the producer. Telefilm stipulates the film must be “compatible” for prime-time viewing within two years.

Although their intentions seem honorable, Telefilm’s actions are greeted with mixed emotion in Canada’s documentary community. Robert Lang, chairman of the Canadian Independent Film Caucus (CIFC), says that Telefilm’s actions will be “an incredible boost to documentary production.” He reasons that obtaining a broadcast licence in Canada for a $300,000 film wasn’t feasible before the reduction-even if producers acquired funding from all of Canada’s small broadcasters. Now Lang feels it’s not only possible, but likely. “We [CIFC) will come into projects that we couldn’t do before. It’s very exciting.”

Fellow CIFC member and award.winning documentary maker Peter Raymont agrees the reduction will “make it a little easier,” but says it’s “‘still important to get foreign presales” to meet any remaining costs.

Despite the encouraging support of Telefilm, Montreal based filmmaker Mark Ackbar believes financing for controversial material will still be extremely difficult to get. He and partner Peter Wintonick are having trouble getting a broadcast licence; their aim is to make a documentary about media critic Noam Chomsky.

“It’s still impossible for marginal productions like ours…to raise $35,000 to $40,000 in licensing fees,” says Ackbar. “Telefilm doesn’t want programs that are compatible for prime time, they want programs that are compatible for mainstream broadcasting.” Ackbar feels the reduction is a token gesture:”They (Telefilm) should do more.”

Whether Telefilm is doing enough to support Canadian documentary production is debatable. Some argue that because Telefilm’s original mandate was to boost the production of drama, any help is appreciated; others feel that because it is now within Telefilm’s mandate to nurture Canadian documentary, the original mandate is inconsequential -only the present is relevant.

Though it is unclear whether Telefilm’s actions will alleviate the current crisis in documentary, one thing is clear: short of a fundamental transformation in the attitudes of Canadian broadcasters, no single act will be the panacea.

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