The Gray Lady’s 40 Million Dollar Folly

Or
How, After More Than a Decade, The Times Still Doesn’t Get The Internet

Photo by Graham Biggs

After years of talk, the New York Times finally released details regarding their new pay wall yesterday. Despite receiving mixed reviews, I am failing to see how anyone could see the new Times plan as anything but a bad idea.

First, a little background. The New York Times has attempted a paywall before – and it failed miserably. So have other newspapers, and with the exception of publications that exist in specialized verticals (financials), no paywall has ever really survived. One noted paywall, the Long Island daily Newsday actually saw a mere 35 paying subscribers in its three month trial.

Granted, the new Times Paywall is less a wall and more a Byzantine collection of rules and exceptions that say if and when you can read a Times article.

Everyone gets 20 free articles a month. Links from social media sources and blogs and some search engines will be able to read the article regardless of how many other articles have been read. And readers will always have access to the front page of the site, front page of the sections and some of all the blogs and most of some of them.

Walls have it easy. The Times is putting a crap shoot and a curb between you and the content you want to read.

What’s worse is that there are so many loopholes that anyone with a passing interest in reading any article on the Times website really can. Which leaves paying for access to the website really as more of a punishment for being a less savvy internet user than something that bestows real value.

Of course, in its pricing scheme the all but admits that the website is a free bonus. How so? Well, there’s no way to buy access just to the website. You have to either pay $15 for a four week subscription to the website and the smartphone app, $20 for access to the website and the iPad app, or $35 for access to the web, smartphone and iPad app. The math behind that is crazy, but thankfully Wired already did it.

If A + B = $15 and A + C = $20 and A + B + C = $35, what does A equal?

That answer is 0.

Yes, the New York Times is saying that access to their website is essentially a giveaway value add, but you can’t have that value unless you’re a paying customer. At least not all the time. Well, you can have access when they feel like it.

Of course, nobody is saying that the Times website is worthless, least of all the advertisers. Numbers I’m seeing is that the site took in $300 million last year from ad impressions alone. But, the new pricing and access scheme concocted by the wizards at the Times feels oddly punitive especially when we consider the competitive landscape of publishing news online.

The issue facing the New York Times seems to be multifaceted, and the new paywall will do little to solve it. In fact, if the Times earns back the $40 million paywall investment within the next two years, I will be shocked.

Let’s look at the issue. First, the New York Times is not merely competing on a city or regional level. Hell, they’re not even competing on a national level. They are an international publication and they know this, as the equally vaunted and lauded paywall took effect today in Canada with the rest of world schedule to start on the 28th of this month.

Second, the New York Times is not just competing with other newspapers. News is coming from more and more spaces – all of the newspapers of the world, plus all of the television websites, the vertical websites, blogs, and the recently emerging trend of real time, unedited broadcasts from reporters on location via social networks.

Put these two together and you begin to get the picture of the modern media landscape, people have an abundance of news sources to pull from. The sea of a million periodicals allows a rapid comparing and contrasting of news that puts emphasis on loyalty to story rather than loyalty to brand.

In order to succeed online, the Times needs to stop thinking about coping with the new system while punishing those who play by the old rules and instead move to the golden rule of selling: make people want to give you money.

I know, it sounds simple. But if it were, every product would be a must have. However, since I’ve already come this far, here are just a few suggestions for how to turn the experience behind the paywall into something actually worth paying for.

First, get rid of the freaking ads. I know, newspapers have never been about selling copies and have always survived by amassing an audience and then selling that audience’s attention to advertisers. But, seriously, if I’m paying to be there, I don’t want my experience muddied up by ads.

Second, embrace your subscribers by allowing them to be heard. This is not just an argument for comments, or for restricting commenting to merely paying subscribers. This is an argument for a second commenting system that is restricted to paying customers. Reward these users by not having them mix with the aggressive and argumentative landscape of the public comments system. Allow commenters to interact with each other. And the kicker? Require your staff to participate in the premium comments.

Third, provide access. I don’t mean the current model of access which is determined on a device-by-device basis. That’s a bastardization of infinite supply. I mean real access. Access to reporters. Access to notes on an article and background information. Access to photos that were taken but not used. These are unique items that are often of scarce supply and provide a real value to readers and differentiate the Times website from the millions of others out there.

What’s more, these don’t have to all be included in one plan, they could be rolled out a la carte and at multiple levels. Level one gets you an advertising free Times experience. Level two removes adds and access to the gated community. Level three allows for communication with reporters and peels back the curtain on the story. Hell, level 15 could involve a monthly beer with the editor.

Put bluntly, the Times is selling the wrong thing. They’re trying to get people to pay for infinite and largely fungible content instead of paying for scarce commodities like access and privilege. And that is a damn foolish way to blow $40 million.

The Exact Degree of Boiling Water…

It isn’t everyday, but most of them, that I see a single sticker on the back of a black SUV in the parking lot at work that positively bothers the hell out of me. That sticker is one of those annoying “Fake Country” stickers that instead of saying GB or DE pronounce someone affinity for the Outer Banks (OBX) or overpriced, factory-ripped, preppy clothes (AF). This particular sticker proudly proclaims 212˚, that’s right, the boiling point of water. The exact boiling point of 100% pure water. However, this sticker makes the point of saying that 212 is actually the extra degree.

The Minimum* is A-OK!

The Minimum* is A-OK!

Now, normally I would just assume that person who owned, or at least drove, said random, black SUV failed science in middle school and was ironically proud of this. Or that they were just not the smartest person, and for some reason was proud of that. Little did I know that the driver was just exceptionally motivated. Why? Because I, apparently, had never heard of “two twelve” as the hip kids call it. By hip kids, I mean the people at the office who boldly take down that picture of a kitten that says “Hang in there!” and replace it with the black bordered inspirational posters that the entire internet had proclaimed a tragic joke ages ago.

Yes, 212 – The Extra Degree is a series of inspirational quotes and missives from an author who reminds me an awful lot of Greg Kinnear’s character in Little Miss Sunshine. Except this author didn’t realize that selling inspiration was far less important than being with his family. No, this one apparently found a publisher, and a “film maker”, someone who knew how to operate Microsoft PowerPoint, and the “inspiration” to imitate the European international car decals. However, all of these people failed to note that 212 wasn’t the extra degree, it was the exact degree, it was the bare minimal temperature at which pure water would boil. Not extra, exact. And not only exact, the lowest possibly point of success under the utmost of ideal situations.

Yes, Sam Parker (he’s the “author”) says that 212 is the extra degree that makes water boil. His words, water at 211 degrees is just hot, while water at 212 degrees is boiling. While Parker is shoving science aside (inspiration can’t be hampered by little things like facts), he’s basically admitting that the bare minimum is what people should be shooting for. His supporting “facts” and “figures” are on par with with his “bare minimum to succeed” ideal.

And what “facts” is the 212 camp espousing? Well, the first is that assumption that water that is at 212˚ will create steam, and enough steam to power a steam engine. Welcome to the world of marginal truths, or as our generation has come to call it “truthiness.” Does water boil at 212˚? You betcha. If, and it’s a big if, that water is completely pure, unlike the water used in steam engines, or from your faucet, or even from your Brita filter. Will water in a steam engine pushed that extra little bit from 211˚ to 212˚ create enough steam to actually power that steam engine? Only if it’s a steam-hope hybrid. Last time I checked, no one was making those yet.

And what about the other facts and figures? Ah, those are also equally skewed. The folks behind the 212 campaign went and cherry-picked a nice sampling of sports figures which separate winners from losers. Things like the margin of victory in the 2004 Men’s 800m race (we’re left to assume it was the Olympics as facts are few and far between) which they claim was a slim 0.71 seconds. Now, thanks to the BBC’s website, the exact finish times from not only the final race, but all of the heats leading up to that race are readily available. What most people would qualify as the margin of victory, the time between first and second place, was only 0.16 seconds. That’s a much slimmer margin than one presented in this video. The difference between first and last place? A whopping 8.04 seconds. Where’d the 0.71 come from? That’s the difference between first place and fourth place. It’s the difference between a gold medal, and no medal. It’s what happens when you move just one step passed the minimum. After all, the space between first and third place was so statistically small, that it could qualify as luck. And luck is not a source for inspiration. Fact, however, is that everyone except for the 2nd and 7th place runner ran slower than they did in the semi-finals. Yes, the 2nd place runner gave that extra degree, it just wasn’t enough to take home the gold.

But inspired people don’t care about luck or facts. What inspired people care about is results, right? And the 212 folks give us a list of companies that have successfully used the program. Companies like Citibank Financial, which on November 17th 2008 (yesterday, as of writing this) announced they were slashing 20% of their global workforce (approximately 53,000 jobs) in an attempt to remain soluble. I guess that’s what happens when you do the bare minimum. Or Nextel Communications, which couldn’t compete in the cell phone market and was bought out by Sprint. Or Spherion, which makes their money off of temp workers. Or Countrywide Financial… Yes, THE Countrywide Financial, the ones who folded due to their extreme reliance on subprime mortgages, and share a large part of the blame for our current recession. I guess that’s what happen when your entire philosophy is that doing the bare minimum to succeed, under ideal circumstances (despite what is actually needed) is enough to set you apart. Judging by the prices of the presentation packs that 212 is selling, I’m guessing that Sam Parker isn’t too worried about these little details.

I’m sure that the 212 camp would be quick to rally and say that I’m missing the point. That 212 isn’t about facts, or figures, or a set of companies that said philosophy helped to prevent from failing. It’s about inspiration, about pushing the individual to move passed where they are (hot) and to where they need to be (boiling). I’m sorry. I’m not sorry for me, but for them. You see, inspiration can come from a great many sources. The goal isn’t to move to the next level, it’s to move to the top. It’s not to separate no medal from a medal, it’s to break records, to trounce upon the goals of the past. In that vein, the fourth place runner the wrong end of 212′s margin of victory? His semi-final race was the fastest of his career. He broke his record, and his new record falls comfortably within the statistically insignificant margin.

As for me, when I need inspiration, I’ve got this link to click on.