Brave new world of blogging

As the Philadelphia humor writer Roz Warren told it recently in BSR, she was elated when the New York Times— that bastion of refinement, erudition and taste— asked her to contribute to its new blog for Baby Boomers. I suspect Roz assumed she'd soon receive supportive feedback from the likes of Paul Krugman, Maureen Dowd, Gail Collins and the various social scientists and philosophers who populate the Times op-ed page and letters column. (To read her piece, click here.)

So when readers began responding to her essays, Roz was shocked— shocked!— to discover that many online Times readers possess the IQ of a newt and were kicked out of eighth grade for throwing spitballs in the school cafeteria.

"This article is rubbish," one such reader wrote to Roz.

"Well, aren't we the special little snowflake?" wrote another.

"Where does the Times find these morons?" inquired a third.

To Roz I say: Welcome to the Internet— that brave new world where editors and gatekeepers fear to tread, where kids (or even chimpanzees sitting at computer screens) can pose as adults, and where anyone with time on his hands who's suffering from anger issues can vent his spleen under the cloak of anonymity, confident that within minutes his meditations will spread virally across the globe, there to destroy reputations and perhaps even induce suicides.

If I sound bitter, I hasten to assure you: My reaction has nothing— nothing, I tell you!— to do with the blogger who two years ago posted my address and phone number and urged his readers to push me off the roof of a 20-story building. I lived to tell this tale only by avoiding 20-story buildings.

Of course the blogger modestly declined to post his address or phone number. But with the help of BSR's technical adviser, I was able to track the fellow down, at least to the extent of finding his name and picture. On the basis of that evidence, I can safely tell you: My elusive mad blogger may not be 14 years old, but he certainly looks 14.

Screening snarky letters

In journalism, to be sure, death threats are an occupational hazard. It's just so much easier to deliver them over the Internet, where there's no need to form letters and words on paper, lick an envelope and buy a stamp.

But I digress. As Roz Warren surely knows by now, the difference between letters to the New York Times and letters to its website is this: Letters to the print newspaper are screened for relevance and civility, and even those that make the cut are edited so as to eliminate any hint of snark or ad hominem attack, lest they be confused with letters to the Philadelphia Inquirer or Daily News. (Those two papers publish letters primarily to mollify readers who might otherwise burn down the editor's house.) By contrast, on the Times website, or most websites, anything goes.

Why am I telling you this? Because things don't have to be this way. We live at the beginning of Internet history, not the end. Broad Street Review is, among other things, an experiment in finding a happy medium between control-freak conventional print media and the anything-goes anarchy of websites. Our basic rule is this: You can say whatever you like here, as long as you let people know who you are and where you're coming from.

To that end, we require our letter-writers to sign their letters and provide an address and phone number— solely to verify that they are who they say they are. And, yes, I do cull and/or edit letters that strike me as counterproductive to an intelligent conversation.

One writer's "'firestorm'

Many Internet devotees, having been marinated in the Web's long tradition (what? Ten years?) of pseudonym discourse, find these requirements onerous. "I gave you my name and e-mail address," one reader complained when I requested his street address and phone number. "What more do you want?"

Of course, many people resist divulging such personal information. They're happy to dish out criticism but fearful that someone will respond in kind. They want to avail themselves of this exciting new medium of free speech, but they don't want to be inhibited or held accountable for their speech.

One of my contributors once complained that an article she wrote for Broad Street Review had resulted in a "firestorm" in her life. When I asked how the firestorm had manifested itself, she referred to the number of letters her story had generated, and the number of people who stopped her to talk about it wherever she went.

The good news

To professional journalists, who never take an audience for granted, such a reaction is cause for celebration, not concern. But it's a new and sometimes frightening experience for all those amateur bloggers who are now joining the commentariat.

To them I say: Speaking your mind is one of a citizen's most important duties. If you have something to say, BSR will give you the space and the audience. But we can't give you the courage to stand up in the global town square. Nor can we give you the judgment to choose which publications and websites are trustworthy. For all the exciting and terrifying changes in media today, that much hasn't changed.

Now for the good news: BSR's experiment in creating "the Internet for grownups" has already produced impressive results. Remember what I said above about the typical Internet visitor having an eighth-grade education and the IQ of a newt? Well, according to our latest audience survey, the typical BSR reader has the IQ of a walrus and didn't get kicked out of school until 11th grade. Who says progress is impossible?

(Note to potential advertisers: Ignore the previous paragraph. Actually, all BSR readers hold advanced degrees, earn six-figure incomes, drive BMWs and dine at fine restaurants three times a week.)♦


To read responses, click here.
To read a response commentary by Alaina Mabaso, click here.