Developing an eye for ads

Posted on by CMSU Reflections

Before my journalism journey began more than two decades ago, I often said, “I read stories. I don’t pay attention to the ads.”

Now, the ads are impossible to miss. Sometimes they even obscure the stories.

You know the “rich media” ads that envelope your mobile or computer screen, briefly hiding what you’re reading while they play — it seems I can’t escape them.

But now that I’m discovering how advertising is evolving right along with the stories they accompany, I’m paying more attention to their content than ever.

I always understood that journalism relied on advertising to survive, and those of us in print media felt the pain when ad revenue took a nosedive in 2007-08, causing cutbacks, layoffs and declining volume and size of print media.

Back then I was only passively interested in the content of print ads. I read closely when it targeted my needs.

But as the digital era transformed my journalism experience into an online one, it also changed advertising this way.

According to the textbook “Media & Culture (Campbell, Martin and Fabos),” because of the shift of readers from newspapers and magazines to laptops and cell phones, “leading advertisers are moving more of their ad campaigns and budget dollars to digital media.” And I get an up-close, often interactive look at how that money is spent whenever and wherever I “log in” — whether I want it or not.

But, actually, now I want it. I pause a bit longer on pop-up promos these days. I find their content rich in many ways — they’re engaging, captivating, quick, fun. So I’ve decided that what lies ahead for digital and mobile advertising is a story I don’t want to miss.

Learning to respect citizen journalism

Posted on by CMSU Reflections

I haven’t always appreciated citizen journalism.

As a traditional journalist, trained at newspapers, I initially discredited anyone who thought that all it took to be a journalist was a story to tell and the means to tell it.

Mere citizens, I argued, did not have to uphold the values of accuracy, fairness, transparency and independence, as true journalists must. The citizen would not be held accountable for verifying facts, interviewing multiple sources and getting all sides of a story. A citizen would not face rigorous questioning during a multilayered editing process. And if a citizen got it wrong, well, they’d have no obligation to report it — unlike real journalists, who are responsible to publicly make errors right.

But as the digital era and now media convergence began to disrupt traditional journalism, the tools of the trade became globally accessible. Now, all that anyone needs to spread the news can be held in the palm of her hand.

And as I watched the transformative influence of grassroots newsgathering on our society, my appreciation and acceptance of citizen journalists — “activist amateurs,” as the textbook “Media & Culture” puts it — began to grow.

Today I’m grateful for cell phone videos by courageous citizens that uncover unlawful police-involved violence — it forces the nation to confront the “trigger-happy policin’ ” that Marvin Gaye testified about in his “Inner City Blues.” Many people, like Marvin, always knew it was real; now others are forced to face the facts.

I cheer when oppressed people stand up to corrupt governments and coalesce on social media to topple them. The Arab Spring of 2011 was a victory for freedom, thanks in part to the stories and videos revolutionary global citizens distributed to the world using Twitter and Facebook.

And I respect any ordinary citizen that understands the power they have to influence the world they experience by sharing authentic stories with others who need to know.

Citizen, journalism is yours.

Use for data tops need for privacy on the Web

Posted on by CMSU Reflections

“I always feel like somebody’s watching me.”

This paranoid chorus of an 1980s song by Rockwell sums up the one-hit-wonder’s frustration over unseen eyes stalking his whereabouts.

And that’s how it is when I search the Internet. 

But in my case, it’s not paranoia. 

Surveillance of my Web browsing patterns starts with “cookies,” which the textbook Media & Culture (Campbell, Martin and Fabos) defines as “information profiles that are automatically collected and transferred between computer servers whenever users access Web sites.” Every time I peruse the Web, my moves are being tracked.  

Cookies “can also be used to create marketing profiles of Web users to target them for advertising,” the text says. So each stop I make to consider or buy something online may generate information about my needs and wants that are ripe for companies eager to fulfill them. Such data mining allows businesses to reach potential customers with user-specific advertising.

It’s the reason why I get inquiries about my travel interests after I make hotel reservations. Or I get an email coupon following a search of sales at my neighborhood grocery store. And ever since I researched foreign-language lessons online, I’ve been pelted with promos about nearby schools and studying abroad.

This niche online experience is a part of Web 3.0, or the semantic Web. Our current era of the Internet “places the basic information of the Web into meaningful categories — family, friends, mutual interests, location — and makes significant connections for us,” the textbook says. But in order to enable “computers and people to work in cooperation” creating customized content for users, the Web requires a fair amount of online surveillance.

Frankly, I’m unnerved by all this spying. I’d like to believe that there’s still a measure of privacy in the world despite all the signs that there isn’t. For now, at least, I think I’d be willing to sacrifice a more meaningful Web for the ability to lurk online without being “watched.” But that’s not so easy these days. The need — and usefulness — of personal data trumps my individual desire to hide on the Internet.

So I guess Rockwell was right.