
4 8 September 2016
all since usenet, built in the original collegiate
spirit of the internet, wasn't privately owned.
(In fact, it isn't owned by anyone at all, having
no central server or administrator, leading to
one of the first internet cat memes: Fluffy owns
Usenet). Politics.ie was an even more special-
ised example, limiting itself to Irish political
debates. Reddit to this day has the look and feel
of a clunky usenet client transported
to a web page, as did such
notable sites as Slugger
O’Toole for a long time,
before blogs and
WordPress tem
-
plates became the
new paradigm for
discussion sites
on the web.
What made
websites like
Boards.ie and
Politics.ie work
was the communi
-
ties they built,
regular readers who
initiated and contributed
to discussions every day. And
with every refresh as a contributor
checked for new responses, a fresh page hit
was recorded, which translated into advertising
revenue.
Facebook is only the most successful of sev-
eral social websites which were set up to
capture those audiences. Like Bebo, Friendster
and others before it, Facebook (and other social
media sites from Twitter to Snapchat) work on
the premise that there was no need to create
subgroups for users. Ultimately, it doesn't
really matter what people post and talk about,
so long as they do what comes naturally to
human beings - building communities. The
most successful social networks are those
which enable frictionless community forma
-
tion. Those communities, once they become
large enough, generate network effects. You're
on Facebook because everyone you know is
there, and not on MySpace. People don't need
to follow news groups, they just have to follow
each other. Communities are an emergent prop-
erty of the network.
News stories are sometimes the connective
tissue holding these communities together. But
so, for that matter, are radio broadcasts, TV
shows, movies, comic books, podcasts, the
latest Netflix download, and of course, cat
memes. Anything that people can share, appre-
ciate, and critique.
And so, it should come as no surprise that
once NPR looked at the sums, they discovered
far fewer than one percent f their readers and
listeners are commenting on their website any
more. Audiences are still listening and reading,
but they're talking about it on Usenet, or Twit-
ter, or LinkedIn, or Tumblr, or even Snapchat.
There's a media myth that comment sections
attract readers online, because people want to
talk. It dates back to the days when independ-
ent blogging was at its peak, and newspapers
were borrowing whatever emerged organically.
Specialist bloggers linked to each other, and
created a new kind of news community, who
both created, commented on, and read
each others posts. But while
many blogs still survive, they
are no longer primarily
where debates take
place. That happens
on social websites.
Blogs are the trig
-
gers to start a
discussion some
-
where else. Their
comment sections
mostly lie empty.
So, noticeably, do
the comment sec
-
tions for a great many
newspaper stories.
The network effect means
its easier to join one or two
sites like Facebook, and discuss
what you read everywhere else on the web by
posting links your friends and colleagues can
see there, rather than registering to post com-
ments on dozens of different sites, each
requiring a different combination of login veri-
fications and passwords, each with different
audiences of strangers.
The process has come full
circle. Now, instead of post-
ing a story link and then
discussing it on usenet,
audiences do the same on
Facebook, or Twitter, or the
network of your choice. Even
Google Plus, unloved even
by its creators, has its fans.
Newspapers aren't losing
audiences to social net-
works, because they never
really owned those audi
-
ences in the first place. Commenting has a
chequered history on the internet, but of course
commenting predates the internet: it just
wasn't always called commenting. Letters to
the Editor are as old as newspapers them
-
selves. Proprietors realised very early in the
history of periodical publication that people
would buy a copy of the paper simply because
their name appeared there. And what better
way to encourage that impulse - and exploit
that vanity - than to offer readers a forum where
they could comment on the news events of the
day.
To use the modern parlance, Letters to the
Editor were heavily pre-moderated and curated,
in addition to being sub-edited for length, read
-
ability, and typos. Despite that, over time,
legends grew among those subeditors charged
with maintaining the Letters to the Editor pages
about their correspondents. There were the old
familiars, who ran off at least one letter a day,
often stereotyped as a retired colonel in the
Home counties fulminating on the pages of the
Times about young people these days, or the
intrusion of modern conveniences - always
referred to as contraptions - into their enviable
idyll.
There were the hardy annuals ("Sir, I just
heard the first cuckoo of the Spring. Is this a
record?"). And there was the Green Ink Brigade
- the clearly deluded, ranging from conspiracy
theorists fulminating about alien lizard over-
lords and illuminati to often garbled religious
fundamentalists who expected the apocalypse
to begin by the weekend. For some unexplained
reason, these seemed to correlate heavily with
the use of green ink biros.
And of course there were the undeclared
interests, the member of a local lobby group
who neglected to mention that fact, or the
brother-in-law of a county councillor, or the TD's
cousin, who regularly wrote to defend their rela-
tive, but always neglected to mention the
familial connection.
Despite these shortcomings, however, the
Letters to the Editor pages provided an often
lively and usually interesting feedback on sto-
ries and how they affected communities, and
indeed helped foster a sense of community
among the readership. It
was understandable that
newspapers wanted to
capture the same dynamic
online.
For too long newspapers
assumed that readers were
interested in their specific
stories and titles, when
readers were usually more
interested in community,
and newspapers have for
the most part been very
poor at managing commu-
nities. There's still a place for Letters to the
Editor, curated and considered comments and
input from readers. Huffington Post is based on
the principle of turning Letters to the Editor into
articles. Other publications disguise it better,
but many of their online hot takes and opinion
pieces work on the same principle of (often
unpaid) user-generated content, commenting
on what has already been reported
elsewhere.
For original news outlets however, the task of
editors and journalists remains the same as it
ever was. Produce compelling content people
will talk about, point to, and read. We can only
wish good luck.
MEDIA
With news outlets that
were actually born on
the web, commenting
seems much more
vigorous