On special assignment
I'm off to help determine the Future of Journalism. You'll find me on another floor from my normal desk, hidden from the daily grind, tucked away with a select group trying to figure out how to make newspapers relevant to an entire generation that no longer has any use for them.

Of course, this select group consists of no writers, photographers or artists. Just designers, with the occasional Upper Manager popping his head in to check our progress. It's all up to us, apparently. I've been in these groups before. The usual assignment: Take the same old crap we've always been producing and make it look better. I like that strategy. Progress by Deception. They always say, "Oh, yeah, we'll write more interesting stories and take better pictures, too, at some point, maybe. Until then, could you make what we're doing now look better? You know, to appeal to the Young People." I'm glad this strategy exists; it helps me keep a job and it gets me out of the daily grind every couple of years.

But the progress we've made so far isn't exactly measurable. It gets frustrating to propose changes year after year to an industry that is fundamentally opposed to change. The last three newspapers for which I've worked have recently won Pulitzer Prizes; by recently I mean in the last 10 years. I'm pretty sure it's the worst thing that can happen to most newspapers. "Change what? Why do we need to change? For God's sake, we just won a f---ing Pulitzer in '93!" Oh, OK. I'll be sure to tell that to the people in the 'burbs in Ohio or Missouri or Texas who are having The New York Times thrown at their doorstep instead of the hometown rag.

The strategy behind putting designers at the helm of new product development is actually sound. Unlike writers, photographers and artists, we really have no turf to defend. We take what's given to us and arrange it in the way we think will get a reader's attention. However, our responsibility pretty much ends with the "getting readers' attention" part. Our work is for naught if the story or the photo or graphic doesn't hold the reader's attention -- or, maybe, cause said reader to part with his or her 50 cents.

Most of the people I know read newspapers. Of course, most of the people I know work for some media outlet. They kind of have to read newspapers. Most of the people I know who aren't paid to read newspapers don't. The range of people I know corresponds roughly with the 25-34 demographic, a group which I am perilously close to leaving behind. Our bean-counters need to show advertisers our product appeals to the 25-34 demographic, because people in that age group 1/spend money and 2/are less likely to die within the next 10 years. Our core readership, alas, falls into an age group more closely resembling 55-and-older, and they are less inclined to do (1) and a lot closer to (2).

So, the challenge goes something like this: Figure out how to make newspapers relevant to an entire generation that has no use for them, without alienating all the older people who actually do read newspapers religiously because, well, that's what they've always done with their mornings. And do it by July 24.

All cynicism aside, there are some good ideas on our table. We'll see if we can put any of them into action before I'm ready to give up on the whole thing.

(Editor's note: Your opinion really does matter on this one. Do you read a newspaper with any regularity? Why the hell not? I promise not to hold it against you if you don't. I am genuinely curious. Help save my job and tell me what we need to do better.)