The New York Times and Diminishing Derivative Works

Most of the readers of this blog are surely familiar with the struggle, some say existential, of print newspapers to find a viable business model in today's increasingly online world. The issue, as framed, is simple: having given away substantial content for free online access without a revenue stream parallel to the want-ads cum advertisments of print newspapers, can such newspapers now find a long-term model based on charging for online contents? This, while at the same time the newspapers continue to try to salvage something from its print product.

Against this print v online morality play, a little-mentioned event occurred late last week that highlights another aspect of the search for commercially viable platforms to deliver copyright content. The event in question was the announcement by the New York Times that it is discontinuing its broadcast of podcasts. First a confession: I am podcast freak. For over two hours each day, starting with my one-hour constitutional in the morning and extending to the 45-minute bus commmute to and from work, I combine either walking or bus travel with listening to a series of informative podcasts by the newspaper on business, politics, science and music.

Without a doubt the New York Times is well ahead of the class in the contents of the podcasts in these (and probably in all areas subject to a podcast broadcast by the company). It is not an exageration to say that these podcasts have helped frame the terms of my thinking in recent years. In effect, these New York Times podcasts are a unique form of derivative work, whereby journalists are called upon to adapt their print contents to the quite different medium of the spoken world. Unlike the mere reproduction of audio content broadcast on radio and then reworked for further podcast broadcast in MP3 format (such as Bloomberg, the BBC or National Public Radio), the New York Times had succceeded in creating a distinct content form elegantly adapted for an aural, non-visual platform. And yet this same newspaper, owner of one of the most august names in the journalistic world, has decided to shut down one (albeit small) aspect of its journalistic excellence.

While no specific reason was given in the announcement of the discontinuance of the podcasts, a strong hint was found near the end. There, the presenter urged listeners to either take up an offer to subscribe to the online version at an introductory low price or continue with the print edition. This suggests that either the podcasts were an expense that the newspaper was no longer interested in bearing, and/or that the podcasts had not succeeded in driving listeners to subscribe to either the online or print edition, and/or the podcast broadcasts were merely cannabilizing potential revenue-generating customers. In shutting down its podcast service, the newspaper is apparently prepared to risk the loss of the goodwill accruing to its name by virtue of the podcasts or, even more, engendering a certain feeling of betrayal -- contents available via the iPod over a number of years have been suddenly yanked from the listening public.

Whatever the reason, the result of the decision is to impoverish the content available for a medium (MP3 iPod players) that is uniquely placed to facilitate the optimalization of the multi-tasking experience, something neither the online or print experience can offer. After all, one can equally engage in various forms of physical activity while also listening to his favourite podcast content. Nothing of the like can be achieved by online or print content, which demands the complete attention of the reader.

It has been noted more than once that the burgeoning of derivative works and the success of their commercial exploitation has been one of the main drivers in the expansion of copyright over the last several decades. Both commercially and artistically, therefore, the creation and exploitation of derivative works is one of the success stories of modern copyright. When it comes to MP3 content, however, that is no longer the case, at least for the New York Times. In so doing, at least one najor copyright owner has apparently decided to cut back on the production of quality derivative works. That is a result that should be lamented.

Monetizing Online Contents: Is It a Qualitative or a Quantitative Matter?

I admit--I am a podcast freak. Every night I dutifully download from iTunes to my iPod the most current podcast broadcasts from a pre-selected list of sites. I then spend the better part of an hour in the morning (in conjunction with my morning walk), and a similar amount of time on the bus ride home, listening to these broadcasts. At the top of my list are the economic and business-focused podcasts offered by Bloomberg Radio, orchestrated by the dynamic force of its primary interviewer. While most of these podcasts are shortened from the full-length version of the original radio broadcast, sufficient content and elegant editing made the offerings a perfect fit for my morning and evening listening habits.

However, those days may be coming to an end. Starting at the beginning of this week, Bloomberg seems to be offering one of two choices. Either subscribe to a so-called "premium" service, which entitles the listener to access to the original, full-length broadcasts in exchange for a yearly fee, or be satisfied with only a series of short snippets, a mere fraction of not only the length of the original broadcast but the typical length of the edited item prior to the introduction of the premium service as well. (The "premium" service also promises a number of additional contents, presumably available only to podcast subscribers.)

In so doing, Bloomberg appears to betting that it has found a winning formula for that most elusive of challenges--how to monetize contents available online. Bloomberg is seeking to so by changing the behaviour of its listeners, whereby it is attempting to induce people to pay for contents that were previously available free of charge. While I can sympathize with Bloomberg's desire to find new sources of income, particularly in the online space, nevertheless, permit me to voice my reservations about this scheme.

My reservations do not derive so much from the prospect of being asked to now pay for online contents (I would prefer not to pay, but I am prepared to do so if I believe that I will receive a commensurate benefit.) Rather my puzzlement centres on the why Bloomberg believes it can attract me to sign up for contents which, in the aggregate, are less attractive for my personal use than were the contents prior to the change.

Think about it: the attraction of the contents in the old regime were not simply that they were available for free, but that they were edited in such a way that made them a perfect fit to my morning and evening schedules. In other words, I was drawn to the podcasts precisely because they were a shortened form of the original radio broadcasts. Recalling the old saying, "I did not have enough time to write you a short letter so I wrote you a long one", it was the editing function that turned these contents into a desirable user experience. Without wishing to sound trite, the fact that "less was more" was crucial.

Where Did That User Experience Go?

The new premium podcast service has turned the user experience of these broadcasts on its head. In so doing, has taken the position that monetizing contents online, by moving from a free to a subscription model, is a quantitative, rather than a qualitative, matter. Speaking for myself, I don't get the commercial logic.

After all, if I want to listen to the full-length broadcast (which, crucially, I do not), I can do so for free by listening to the original radio broadcasts. No special effort is required by Bloomberg to enable me to do store and listen to these broadcasts on my MP3 player. As I noted, the value-added experience under the previous arrangement lay in the editing of the contents. I would have thought, therefore, that Bloomberg's challenge would be to convince me to begin to pay for this user experience.It may come as a surprise, but I so much valued this user experience that I would have been willing to pay for it, even if had been previously offered for free. But I was never given this opportunity.

Instead, Bloomberg is trying to convince me to sign up simply because they offer me more contents that were previously available. If before, "less was more", as a qualitative matter, the current offer is that "more is less", as a quantitative matter. I assume that Bloomberg has done its marketing homework and that it is convinced that it will commercially succeed in this move. If so, it will may mark a major turning point in the monetizing of online contents. Perhaps--but not for me, I suspect.