Nobody Asked Me, But...

We consider an 8-year-old Greenwich pirate and ask if news is increasingly for the rich.

Annals of Greenwich

My friend Coline Jenkins, a local landlord, invited me to lunch on her dock down on Steamboat Road one warm sunny autumn day. We picked up bento boxes on Greenwich Avenue and settled into chairs with the blue waters of Greenwich Harbor at our feet.

The dock lies in front of the house where Coline’s mother grew up. Grandfather was an MIT naval architect and grandmother was a civil engineer.

Grandmother kept her 65-yacht moored at the boat works next door. On pleasant evenings, she took family and friends out for parties. While the adults enjoyed themselves, they would let Coline, then 8, take the wheel and pilot the boat out into Long Island Sound.

Coline is now an elegant lady, but her eyes take on a piratical gleam as she tells the story.

The boat yard is long gone. The family home has been divided into apartments. Along the shore, newly built condos are embedded in tight little landscapes.

I’m lucky to have heard the rest of the story.

Is News for the Rich?

I have been rich and I have been poor. Right now I am comfortable, but I watch my spending. So it is with unease that I watch as, one by one, major news sources recede behind paywalls.

As a journalist, I like to compare different perspectives. I particularly love original sources. Now, not by any means all, but some of the content I most want to read has been re-branded “professional,” and the cash involved is out of reach for someone at my pay scale.

This has been the case for years with scholarly research, not without controversy. Now the concept has worked its way down into daily journalism.

Far be it from me to assert that writers shouldn’t get paid. I’m a writer. I work hard at it. In my opinion, I deserve money for my efforts. But I’m concerned that the present fees for coverage are too high for the public.

I suspect it’s a function of the transformation of the business from the noblesse oblige and civic obligation of old-fashioned wealthy owners to the sharks and quarterly-minded investors of the present day.

Here are annual subscription fees (post-introductory teaser rates) for some major publications:

Wall Street Journal: $467.88

Bloomberg: $415

Zero Hedge $1,020

NY Times $221

LA Times $208

Washington Post: $100

Barron’s $52

Then there is the phenomenon of alternative platforms where authors can charge subscriptions and say what they want to unmolested — an increasing rarity today.

I am among many authors who migrated to Substack after public forums like Twitter, Medium and Facebook caved to the Cultural Revolution and adopted AI-driven censorship.

Substack authors can choose whether to charge subscription fees. A typical subscription runs $100 a year. To a writer, $100 seems eminently reasonable, given that they put in hours of work and, in some cases, assume significant personal risk. Many readers feel otherwise.

I can’t say I blame the readers. There are many worthwhile authors, but the intellectually curious don’t always have access to unlimited funds.

For me, the biggest blow came when the Wall Street Journal, my favorite source for news, established a “professional” service for central banking news. Some very interesting stories and background material are now behind this paywall. The Journal doesn’t even include the price in their paywall popup — no, you have to contact a rep for a demo. Well, I did. Turns out the annual member rate for WSJ Pro Central Banking is “only $2,000.”

Mind you, I’m already paying close to $500 a year for the Wall Street Journal. And this is just one professional newsletter! What if I had the misfortune to develop an interest in others?

As a journalist, I consider it my professional duty to keep informed. It’s also important for my family responsibilities. Adding up the costs of the publications I would consider desirable, however, my bill for information would come to almost 10% of my net income.

So far, I have resisted most of these temptations. I would have to give up a few things, otherwise. Like maybe cleaning supplies, or new clothing.

I’m worried. The monetization of news and information is a prime example of elitist muddle-headedness. For the sake of civic harmony it has to stop.

Studying this week:

Doug Tallamy, The Nature of Oaks.

Mozart, Sonata in F Major, KV 332