By Bill Hanson - HSPA Foundation Board of Directors and Publisher, News & Tribune
This month, I will celebrate my 42nd year in the newspaper industry. I have been fortunate to enjoy a long and rewarding journey. Today, I am closer to the end of the trail than the beginning. I recognize that with a sense of relief and a touch of melancholy.
No question that the newspaper industry is fighting through its most difficult time in my four decades. Advertising revenues are down. Retaining subscribers is more difficult than ever and many good community newspapers across the country are shrinking or shuttered altogether. It is easy to let the losses consume us. We newspaper folk, after all, are a cynical lot.
The newspaper industry is not for the faint of heart. It is, however, perfectly suited for those of us with the will to win and the ability to adapt on the fly.
Newspaper publishers used to be just that – men and women who published newspapers. Today, we are so much more. We print newspapers. We offer digital opportunities to readers and advertisers alike. We host events and publish full-color glossy magazines, too – all to remain relevant to the readers and advertisers we so want to retain and please.
Probably the most difficult transition to make as a long-time publisher is allowing others to pour into the process.
I admit it. I’m a control freak.
Usually, I know what I want accomplished and that not-so-admirable trait has served me well through the years.
Recently, however, I experienced a moment when it didn’t serve me well. I’ll explain.
A young reporter was asking me questions about how and why we do the things we do. I was not-so-patiently explaining “my way” of doing things.
When she asked about giving subjects of feature stories a limited-time subscription so they could read their story I was quick to shoot the idea down.
“If people want to read the newspaper, they can pay the price to do so. We have expenses, you know,” I snapped.
I was, of course, quick to remind her that her salary is dependent upon people reading what we produce.
Thankfully, as I walked away, I stopped dead in my tracks, and to the best of my recollection, called myself an old fool – out loud.
Why?
I had just shot down a thought process of a young woman who represents our next generation. In my haste to tell her why we couldn’t do what she suggested, I didn’t think about why we could do it.
Thankfully, I turned around, walked back to her desk and asked her to tell me more.
And then… I did the unthinkable.
I gave her permission to run with it.
For myself – and I imagine a good number of other newspaper executives in Indiana – it’s hard to let go of the reins and allow others to succeed or fail. This young, energetic journalist had a thought process of how to bring younger, non-newspaper-reading citizens in our market into our product. Instead of jumping up and down and celebrating her willingness to enter the fray, I nearly shot her down.
Will her idea drive readership and subscriptions to an all-time high? Doubtful.
Will it move the needle at all? I don’t know.
But if I hadn’t turned around and said, “tell me more,” I’m certain it would have doused a burning flame. And what a horrible mistake that would have been.
I celebrate my 64th birthday in September. I think I’ll give myself a gift this year.
I think I will gift myself a figurative roll of duct tape that I can put over my mouth every time I have the urge to think I know better than the young team that I have built around me. Then, when the crazy ideas they bring to the table bear fruit, I’ll rip off the tape, jump for joy and shout their accomplishments from the rooftop.
Sometimes the best thing a publisher can say is, “Tell me more.”
