All journalism is local (apologies to Tip O’Neill)

(This is my latest contribution to the Carnival of Journalism, which is hosted this month by Andy Dickinson. Like Ryan Sholin last time around, Andy has asked his fellow barkers to answer a single question: Is (digital) journalism better the more local it is and what does that do to growth? Andy is collecting the responses here.)

I was having lunch recently with a group that included the proprietor of a successful local website, and someone at the table asked how things were going with the site: “Really well,” was the answer, “but in this business you feel like a failure if you haven’t built something and sold it to Google for millions of dollars.”

Google wasn’t going to come calling, either. With a focus defined by geography, the site’s horizons of possibility were pretty much limited to the local population and its diaspora. Still, traffic and user engagement were strong, costs were low and revenue was up. The site was filling a local need, and doing it profitably. It was an enviable success.

I don’t know if journalism is better the more local it is, and I suspect that depends on how you define local (physical geography? communities of interest?) But for the sake of argument, I’ll say all journalism is local — in the same way Tip O’Neill once said all politics is local.

And maybe, just maybe, political parties are not a bad model for traditional newsrooms to look at when thinking about the future.

In politics, everything depends on organization. Political parties are organized at every geographic level — neighborhoods, wards, towns, cities, counties and states. National politics may get the most attention, but the ideas, talent, money — and most importantly, votes — come from the bottom up.

People can contribute to the party’s efforts in a hundred different ways. They can donate money, stuff envelopes, knock on doors, make phone calls, put signs in their yards, enlist other volunteers, monitor the polls — and if they’re really gluttons for punishment they can even run for office.

With this kind of organization, there’s room for local experiments and even failure. Those who are interested can get involved, have a say and rise as far as their ideas and talents take them. If a promising politician reaches a critical moment — a tough race against a rich opponent, say — the party can provide bodies and resources to help out.

Without organization, it’s hard to succeed in politics. And it all starts at the local level.

So back to our friend at the local website. What if this person were part of a network of local sites? What if the network encouraged those with an interest to get involved, have a say and rise as far as their ideas and talents took them? And what if the resources of the network were available in a pinch — when, say, an important but unpopular story angered a key local advertiser?

This would free the local site to focus on what it does best, without worrying about growth. What it does best is informing people, helping people, getting out into the community at every opportunity to understand what’s going on, asking others to contribute. This is hard, honest work. Shoe-leather work. It’s what defines a good local journalist — or a good local politician.

This idea of a local network is not exactly new (Jeff Jarvis, for one, has been promoting it for some time) but it still strikes me as the best path forward for a lot of local news organizations. They have name recognition, strong relationships in the community and teams of professional journalists and ad salespeople — all of which are great assets to get things rolling.

A successful network would benefit most those who put the most into it. It would reward good local coverage with links and traffic and eyeballs and ad revenue. It would democratize journalism by making it possible for everyone to contribute to the overall enterprise, but it would promote excellence and shared values like accuracy, fairness and transparency. Growth would be proportionate to the level of perceived opportunity.

Someone is going to make this happen (maybe someone with a background in politics?). We’re working on it in a number of different ways in New Jersey, and many others are doing it elsewhere. Whoever figures it out first will change the game for the rest of us. But the name of the game, I’m convinced, will be local. It makes everything else possible.

As Frank Hague, the famous boss of local politics in New Jersey’s Hudson County famously declared: “I am the law.”