A job for Clark Kent, and why he needs saving
Local insurance providers are among those businesses most impacted when local newspapers shut down.
Smallville, the rural Kansas hamlet that many of us know from comic books, television and films, had an enhanced level of protection against disasters, natural and otherwise, a “strange visitor from another planet,” as the announcer of radio and early TV shows called him.
You never see an insurance broker or agent in superhero comic books. Perhaps it’s assumed that insurance professionals aren’t necessary, there being so many costumed guardians around to protect people against risks. But in the so-called “real world,” particularly in small towns, insurance brokers perform the important service of helping local personal and business customers avoid and mitigate risks.
There’s a villain lurking in the real-life versions of Smallville, one that has already stolen something important from more than 1,800 communities, especially in rural areas — something that helps make each town unique. Stopping this fiend isn’t a job for Superman, it’s a job for Clark Kent, and because he’s fictional, the job passes to us.
Read all about it
Those 1,800 communities lost their local newspapers during the last 15 years, according to a 2018 study published by the University of North Carolina’s Hussman School of Journalism and Media, “The Expanding News Desert; Loss of Local News: What It Means for Communities.” (The “UNC Study”)
That’s a loss of 20% of local papers. Of the 3,143 counties in the U.S., only half have more than one newspaper. The UNC Study found that many of the 7,100 remaining local papers still in operation have become “ghosts,” that is, cut back their operations from daily to weekly, narrowed their scope of coverage, or been purchased by conglomerates that maintain them as local outlets for regional or national news, but cover few, if any, local events or content.
It’s more of a problem than many realize. The UNC Study cites the following impacts of entrusting news outlets to the hands of a few:
- Aloofness. “The consolidation in the [newspaper] industry places decisions about the future of individual papers, as well as the communities where they are located, into the hands of owners with no direct stake in the outcome.”
- Lack of other options. The Internet isn’t an alternative for most of the lost news sources. Most online news sources that try to substitute for local papers are in the great metropolitan areas, where other print options also exist.
- Loss of public service. A Federal Communications Commission report in 2011, cited in the UNC Study, found that a local newspaper is the best way to provide “public service journalism,” which focuses on highly specific local issues that affect residents.
Does this sound familiar? Consolidation is no stranger to insurance carriers and brokers. With market share comes bargaining power, to be sure, but also greater distance from local trends and issues.
By way of example, in Half Moon Bay, California, where I live, the town is considering zoning several blocks of Main Street for the kinds of goods and services pedestrians, a.k.a. tourists’ use. Whether that’s a good idea or not isn’t the point. In the Half Moon Bay Review, it is page one news. In the Bay Area’s largest newspaper, the San Francisco Chronicle, the story didn’t merit a mention.
People throughout the Bay Area, population more than 7 million, don’t care about whether an insurance broker can open an office on Half Moon Bay’s Main Street, but to the residents, a population just under 13,000, the decision will affect the image of Main Street as a tourist destination — in addition to providing first-hand services to the local community.
The effects of losing local papers extend beyond Main Street office uses. Without a local paper, who’s going to report on the high school’s sports stars, the town theater company’s upcoming stage production, or the vagaries of this season’s Dungeness crab catch?
Those stories would be untold without the town’s independent, local press.
Why should I care?
“And why is this my problem?” you may be asking. “How does this affect insurance agents and brokers?”
In my view, local insurance providers will be among those businesses most impacted. Where will you publish your advertisements? Who will publicize or report on your support of the local Little League team or your support for the local community fundraiser? Certainly not in a Bay Area regional paper, where the ads will be dwarfed by the insurance superstores’ notices. Besides, will a Chronicle reader in, say, Vallejo drive the 60 miles to Half Moon Bay to buy insurance because of reading an ad?
Successful insurance agents and brokers maintain close, personal contacts with their policyholders and prospects. They can’t attend every high school football game, local theater event and crab-fishing boat docking, but they’d like to know how things are going around town. It’s good for customer relations. The town paper aggregates that information, as well as upcoming city council agendas, school board elections, and myriad other events that have happened or will be happening.
There’s another factor favoring local, professional journalism over Internet sources: journalistic ethics. A blogger is under no code of ethics to be fair and accurate in reporting news and covering issues. Blogging is not journalism, at least in most instances. Newspapers are generally led and staffed by trained journalists who adhere to their obligations to fact-check their own writing, to interview sources on all sides of controversies, and to shed light on corrupt or illegal behavior in local government. Light is a great disinfectant.
Can the tide be turned?
Two years ago, my local paper was on the endangered list. The Half Moon Bay Review, founded in 1898, was put up for sale by the regional publishing group that owned it. Bidders interested in The Review for its historic building just off Main Street did not want to publish a paper, but to capitalize on the rising value of its real estate.
To their great credit, the regional owners preferred to keep The Review in business as a paper. A group of locals, including my wife and I, met with the editor and developed a plan to buy The Review. A fair price was negotiated, and a public-benefit corporation was established to own the paper, though with no control over its editorial policy or content. Today, The Review is in its 122nd year of publication, is profitable, and has deepened its reporting through online content that supplements the paper’s local sources.
The UNC Study commented: “The opportunity — and the challenge — is finding a way to scale these efforts, so the thousands of communities that have lost a newspaper have a viable alternative. We need to make sure that whatever replaces the 20th-century version of local newspapers serves the same community-building functions.”
What happened in Half Moon Bay can be scaled and replicated. It’s not easy, but it’s necessary. It’s a job for the Clark Kents of the real world, and they could use your help.
Louie Castoria is an independent mediator and adjunct professor of law. Louie founded and chairs the Coastal Literary Arts Movement (CoastalLit.org), a 501(c)(3) charity that promotes bilingual, independent journalism and literary appreciation in small coastal communities. He is a partner in Kaufman Dolowich & Voluck, LLP, a national law firm. For 22 years, he has written a weekly humor column for the Half Moon Bay Review, without compensation. His wife, Susy, is on the board of the public-benefit corporation and a part-owner.
Related: