As a political blogger, I need to stay up-to-date with what all is going on in the world, the latest shenanigans our government is up to, and what the pundits and influencers have to say about it. But sometimes, reading news and opinions - and actually comprehending it - can really be royal pain. So today, instead of editorializing on the political events themselves, I will pontificate on the writings that covers them. Some of it truly is: Journalism from Hell.
My first gripe is putting too many negatives in one sentence. Here’s a classic example. It’s the opening sentence from a recent news article:
“Today, the court failed to invalidate the wrongful acquittal of a man who never refused to deny that he resigned from a bankrupt company because they didn’t stop prohibiting the exclusion of former rivals who reversed their opposition to banning discrimination against those not misidentified as homosexual.”
Ok, I lied. I did not actually read that in the news. I made it up.
But it’s not that far from the opening sentence from an awful lot of real news articles. Here is a genuine example:
“Ohio lawmakers … overrode [the governor’s] veto of a bill that would ban transgender minors from receiving [gender-affirming care].”
Yikes! I had to re-read that sentence multiple times to figure out the “bottom line” - based on the latest event, whether the subjects (transgender minors) could or could not legally get what they want. I finally had to pull up and scratch pad and chronical all the related events in order to analyze it:
1. Transgender minors get gender-affirming care (transgenders win)
2. Legislators write a bill to ban it (transgenders lose)
3. Governor vetoes the bill (transgenders win)
4. Legislators override the veto (transgenders lose)
Here’s another example, even WORSE, from an opinion-writer (condensed for brevity):
“It is shocking that some Congressmen want the state of Texas to ignore a Supreme Court ruling allowing federal agents to remove razor wire on the Rio Grande.”
O boy. Here are all the events, in chronological order, so we can figure out the bottom line and whether the subjects (migrants, illegal or seeking asylum) can safely cross the river:
1. Migrants are crossing the Rio Grande (migrants win)
2. State of Texas installs razor wire (migrants lose)
3. Federal agents remove razor wire (migrants win)
4. State of Texas sues to keep the wire (migrants lose)
5. Supreme court rules in favor of the feds (migrants win)
6. Some members of Congress say to ignore the ruling, keep the wire (migrants lose)
7. Pundits say that Congress cannot defy the Court (migrants win)
Whew. So, at least for now, the migrants are ahead. But stay tuned.
The problem is that journalists are taking a controversial topic with a lot of background and other details and trying to condense the entire history into one sentence. For readers who might not have followed the story intimately from the beginning, this can be overwhelming. Especially if the reader just wants to know who’s “ahead” right now.
My next gripe is that many editorials are just too darn long. It’s not unusual to see opinion articles with well over 2,000 words. Or even if they keep individual articles fairly short, they write too darn many of them. My fellow blogger Peter Venetoklis writes about five articles each week! I have neither the time nor patience to read that much content. (I keep my blog articles to around 800 words, and only write about once every five days.)
Journalists and pundits: be kind to your readers. On a long-running issue with lots of updates, do what you must to avoid all the double or triple or quadruple (or however many) negatives.
And please: keep it brief.
Thanks for the mention. I struggle with the question of quantity, but after asking people, I think the consensus is that people will simply skip what doesn't interest them. If I'm OK with that, then my four (not five :) ) articles a week is OK as well. IOW, I'm ok with being a "buffet" that people pick and choose over.
I do agree on article length. My average on new content since I started on Substack is 890 words, and even that feels high to me. 2000 worders have to be REALLY interesting to me to keep me from skipping along.