Archive for September, 2008

Publish

Friday, September 26th, 2008

Life in the training world has been a little quiet of late, so it’s enabled me to catch up with friends whom I haven’t seen for a while.
The basic journo concept of keeping in touch with contacts never goes away. But when people like Tony Loynes (editor-in-chief of Press Gazette), Steve Buckley (Emap’s head of TV ventures) and Mel Nicholls (Autocar’s editorial director) tell you things, you can’t think: “Great story! I’ll write that!”
It’s an interesting ethical point that journalists often raise on courses: what do you do when a good contact tells you a great story, but you know it will get him/her in trouble if it appears in print?
Publish and be damned is all very well as a principle. But in practice, it loses you friends very quickly. An MP friend often runs things past me, asking what the implications are. Many are terrific stories, but the whole thing’s done on trust.
Occasionally, I ask him to give me an entrée to people or places. All that would go if I sought the route of quick glory. The long-term benefits of the relationship are far greater.
To be fair, these are easy decisions. The tougher ones for journalists are, typically, those stories acquired when alcohol loosens tongues. We’ve all been there: you’re at a dinner or conference, it’s 12.30am and the person next to you, who’s become your new best friend, blurts out something that he or she would never have told you when sober.
You check it out. It stands up. To write, or not to write?
I had a news editor once who deliberately and calculatingly went out with the chief press officer of the main organisation in the industry just to get stories. For him, it would have been an easy decision. But for those of us who don’t ascribe to the Sun reptile style of reporting, there’s no black-and-white answer.

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Celebrating

Wednesday, September 17th, 2008

Party time at PMA, with more than 160 turning up to celebrate 20 years of our postgraduate course. We were supposed to be out of the place at 9pm, and we managed to get the last person out of the door promptly on the crack of midnight.
Nice to see we’ve imbued them with the great journalistic traditions. (Never leave while there’s booze around, never leave if there could be another party to go to, closing time never really means that, etc)
You can view the party pix on facebook (PMA Media Training), but God bless Chris Lewis, once a PMA tutor, who is now making millions as boss of PR company Lewis. (A lesson for us all.) He let us use his company’s wonderful media centre on Millbank. He’s got a close link with Private Eye, and the venue is enhanced by all those classic front pages, framed writs from Maxwell, cartoons and I hear, it may soon be used for some Eye fun evenings. You heard it here first.
They travelled from far and wide. In the end, Amanda Chater decided that flying from New York was a little over the top just for a three-hour party (told her it would last longer), but Stephanie Norbury travelled from the south of France, leaving husband Mark (who was on the same course as her) literally holding the baby.
It was great to see so many people from as long ago as 1989. But it was equally satisfying, edging towards my dotage, to remember almost everyone’s name. “You won’t remember me,” is how they all started. “Yes I do. You’re …”
Got some of the years wrong, but nailed almost everyone. Not surprising, I suppose, considering the long hours and the weekends and the tears, of which I was sometimes the cause. God bless ‘em: they all said nice things about those days. Time’s a great healer…
It was a great journalistic exercise to find everyone. Most emails were out of date (when you go to work for Euromoney, you don’t keep the email sexyone@ or rocknutter@) and few lived at the same address.
Many women had married to complicate things further, so they had new surnames. Facebook, Friends Reunited and Linkedin proved the best sources, but I even found a couple through Debretts. Wish I could replicate the exercise on courses to encourage more journalists to pick up the phone.

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