Cutting ties to the larger world

I talked earlier about the glass aquarium walls being lowered into place. That's exactly what's happening to Canada. It's not just our government's status as international environmental pariah, with a reputation for lobbying on behalf of energy companies and a mantel full of "fossil of the day" awards from climate summits around the world. Nor is the phenomenon limited to our loss of a seat on the UN Security council, even as we crow about our warrior skills and U.S.-compatible weapons. Or even our regressive cuts to public science and statistical knowledge, which in turn justify law-and-order policies that have other advanced democracies shaking their heads.

No, we're actively severing ties with the outside world. Our government de-funds international humanitarian organizations if they offer abortions -- or too much comfort to Palestinians . At the same time, we're tightening immigration restrictions, imposing visas and deporting thousands of people every year. You can build glass walls out of language, like in Québec. Or you can build walls out of fear. Fear of being subsumed by the Other. Fear of terrorism, fear of crime, fear of economic collapse. This is the environment under which media convergence functions best -- where a population is broken up into individual households and kept ignorant, anxious, and entertained by the same company.

In 2001, Québec politicians were advised in committee hearings to keep an eye on Quebecor's pattern of vertical integration. Company executives testified that there was nothing to fear, MNAs nodded in agreement, and the company continued its acquisitions. A decade later, Québec politicians were asked to update the province's anti-scab laws. The issue was that Quebecor was defying the spirit of the labour laws by electronically crossing the picket line during the lockout at the Journal. That's how management was able to print a whole newspaper every day while 253 employees picketed outside. Pierre Karl Péladeau testified before a committee, salved MNAs' concerns, and again, no action was taken. If the arena law passes, Québec MNAs will be complicit in cementing Quebecor's complete media dominance in the province.

Complicity is one thing -- active participation is another. It's not a coincidence that Stephen Harper sat down for lunch in 2009 with Rupert Murdoch and his president of Fox News, Roger Ailes. Kory Teneycke was at the table too, as Harper's official spokesman. In 2010, Teneycke joined Quebecor Media. He's now vice president of Sun News Network. However, it's not as simple as Stephen Harper creating a de facto propaganda wing and then bulldozing everyone else. Right now, Quebecor appears to be the ideological ally of right-wing politicians, but its competitors are learning fast. Shaw, Rogers and Bell each have telecom empires and television divisions (Global, CityTV, and CTV). Each is watching Quebecor's movements closely.

One lesson is that you don't have to invest in production quality to retain viewers. Quebecor's sets are chintzy, its graphics cheap, and its international content largely provided via Skype and Google Earth.

Another lesson is that you don't have to invest much in enterprise journalism -- people will still watch stock footage and talking heads, so long as the opinions are entertaining.

Another lesson is that you don't have to tell all of the truth, most of the time. People can't notice, if you fill up the gaps in their day with spectacle and distraction. So all the big players are simultaneously pulling resources out of more challenging coverage, and happily substituting easier content -- which, when it doesn't parrot the Conservative message track, tends to reinforce a compatible sense of fear or negativity. Quebecor is just a little ahead of the curve.

Already, Quebecor's mobile phone service (Videotron) is available in parts of Ontario. Sun News is only available by subscription for the moment, but its viewership is slowly growing. Meanwhile, the newspaper chain is holding strong. The stage appears set for a pitched battle between four vertically-integrated telecom giants, and already there's a guaranteed loser: the citizen. It doesn't matter who wins, or who buys who. The point is that these are entities concerned primarily with their own survival and profit, not the interests of a healthy democracy.

So times are not likely to get better in corporate journalism. After all, the least-profitable division of a telecom company seems a poor choice for riches and resources in the middle of a turf war.

The public conversation

I graduated from journalism school right into the recession. I told myself over and over again how lucky I was to get work at the CBC. 2008 is not that long ago, but already I look back with a measure of nostalgia. I remember, as a radio reporter, being assigned to interview Laura Whitehorn when she came through Montréal. A former member of the militant revolutionary group Weather Underground, Whitehorn spent 20 years in prison for her role in a series of bombings and armed robberies in the United States. The interview was a meditation on the place of violence in political resistance, and they played my story on the news.

Another time I produced a documentary about two whirling dervishes, brothers who had converted to Sufi Islam after being raised in a suburban Jewish family. Their grandparents, who had survived the Holocaust, felt deeply betrayed by the brothers' new spiritual affiliation. In their twilight years, however, the grandparents were able to reconcile their love for their grandsons with the big beards and baggy pants and Korans. Holding a microphone in a darkened temple room, headphones amplifying the soaring notes of the Qawwali singer, I dodged dervishes and thought "thank Allah for places like the CBC".

Then they cut 800 jobs. We were informed that tough times had officially arrived. Every week we "casuals" would anxiously crowd around the schedule to see if we still had work. Ratings became very, very important. Special projects went on the shelf. Then more newscasts were added on both the radio and TV services, so the company had fewer people working to fill more air time. Slowly but surely, the range of things we covered and the time we had to work on them contracted.

I didn't realize until much later how fortunate I was for those few months of reprieve. I found my voice as a journalist in that little corner of the media world, just before the roof tore off and the harsh glare of "market logic" shone in. What happened at the CBC had happened long ago at the private networks, and the recession only made them leaner and meaner. The journalists who still have jobs know they are, for the most part, replaceable. That's enough to keep most people in line.

Meanwhile this notion of "objectivity" is being probed and prodded. The thinking for a long time was that consumers wanted it, and would punish media companies for trying to manipulate them. New research is now suggesting that people will tolerate a higher-octane editorial blend.

Certainly the availability of pre-packaged opinions is a boon to today's busy family. Who has time anymore to come up with their own interpretation of events? Already, regular TV reporters are encouraged by consultants to ad-lib a little editorial flavour into their live reports. Opinions are absolutely permitted, so long as they reflect the opinions of the employer, and reinforce the status quo. Other opinions, such as on social media, must carry a corporate disclaimer. These are harsh conditions for the cultivation of a public conversation.

Traditionally, media talk about themselves as a mirror to society. A reflection of reality. In Québec, the looking-glass is actively starting to shape reality. That's a warning worth contemplating, I think, as we travel down the same road.