
How do you get a grip on a situation? Adam Gilchrist took a squash ball and changed his career. Toyota took a pile of squash balls — a series of continuous improvements —and polevaulted competition.
As Adam will tell you, a squash ball is an improvement, not a strategic shift. India seeks a strategic shift in its cricket. It has hardly worked. Gilchrist made a small, operational improvement in his grip. It worked!
What these examples indicate is the significance of operational efficiency in any organisation. And yes, small improvements can move mountains — and win World Cups.
But what does all this have to do with journalism? We have different takes on the profession. Some think it’s as noisy as a Husain; others think the creative pursuit is on the decline like Tendular’s batting. Of course, there are people who think journalism should always break the mold.
Since there’s no convergence on journalism, you’ll find various definitions and aspirations floating around in journalism schools. Here are some takes from J-School students:
“It’s a cutting-edge means of communication.”
“It’s about reforming society.”
“It’s is about paradigm shifts.”
“It’s about writing and style.”
“It’s about creating an enlightened society.”
What these impressions convey is simple: there’s no single definition of journalism. While the interpretations focus on the strategic aspects of journalism, or the big picture, they do not dwell on ops, the key component of journalism. Take the good old model of reportage, which hinges on 5Ws (who, where, when, what, why) and 1H (how), or the inverted pyramid form of reporting, where the elements of news are prioritised. Take even the nut graf style of reporting, where reader relevance is essential.
All these models look deadpan, even outdated, as journalism begins to version itself like a software code. Some lament the latest version has lost the thrill of execution, the smell of shopfloor ink, and the simplicity of communication. In its obsession with strategy, or the art of differentiating, journalism is dis-intermediating itself. No wonder citizen journalism, where the message is direct, relevant and simple, is gaining web space.
After all, if you need a squash ball to set things right, why get a football? “Simplicity is about subtracting the obvious, and adding the meaningful,” says John Maeda, in The Laws of Simplicity. It also applies to journalism.
But how well do practitioners understand all this? Even as I was scouring for answers, I was invited last month to the Bhaskar Group’s editorial conclave in Goa. I went with a lot of misgivings: Would I get insights into a profession that I have found hard to fathom? Would they know how to turn the complex into the simple? Did execution create a passion for excellence? Did they see fun in journalism? How did they add quality to their work? Did they know whom they were targeting? How did they perform in teams? And, lastly, would they able to provide convincing answers?
The three-day conclave had fun, games, speeches, interactives, and PowerPoints. Nothing out of the box, really. But the meetings boiled down to something absolutely clinical: Everyone must understand each other and what they are required to do in their jobs.That understanding would translate into better teamwork, superior products, and greater joy. It was just like SOPs: standard operating procedures.
As a news editor, you had some key questions to answer: what more? (How do we create value for the reader?) and what next? (How do we delight her?). Although the questions varied in tone and number from edition to edition, the objective was similar: How to connect with the reader.
The simplicity of the process took me to Stephen Covey’s fifth habit: Seek first to understand, then to be understood. Says Covey: “When we really, deeply understand each other, we open the door to creative solutions and third alternatives. Our differences are no longer stumbling blocks to communication and progress. Instead, they become the stepping stones to synergy.”
Ever since I came back from Goa, I have tried to keep a squash ball around. It tells me why complex things can be simple and why Adam Gilchrist succeeded and India didn’t.
Email: vinaykamat@dnaindia.net
