Weekend reads: Slowing down the news

A Q&A with Jeremy Klaszus, founder of the Calgary outlet The Sprawl

Photo credit: Gavin John

At Lean Out, we often write about what’s not working in Canadian media — but we also want to highlight what is working, particularly when it comes to local news. As such, we have an ongoing series on independent outlets, featuring discussions with entrepreneurs that are dreaming up innovative solutions to our industry’s most pressing problems. We have profiled Village Media and kawarthaNOW, and interviewed the authors of What Works in Community News? on the podcast.

Today, we bring you a conversation with the founder of an online outlet in Calgary, The Sprawl. This hyperlocal site focuses on slowing down the news cycle, publishing one in-depth, reported podcast a month, along with a weekly newsletter. It’s a refreshing formula, and The Sprawl produces the kind of calm, thoughtful journalism that we most admire.

In this edited and condensed interview, editor-in-chief Jeremy Klaszus shares his thoughts on the current crises in media — from the fragmented information ecosphere and news fatigue, to lost trust and failing business models — and why thinking small might just be the solution.

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TH: Jeremy, you and I met at a recent news forum in Ottawa. Since then, I’ve enjoyed exploring your work. You have been a journalist for close to 20 years. In 2017, you launched The Sprawl, a hyperlocal journalism site in Calgary, and then the Sprawlcast, a monthly podcast that does a deep-dive into civic affairs topics, such as housing. What made you decide to found an independent outlet?

JK: Mostly it was the collapse of traditional newsrooms. I was freelancing in Calgary at the time, and publications were folding, publications were downsizing. I found fewer and fewer places where I could do the work that I enjoy doing, which is local civic affairs coverage. There was a gap, it seemed to me. I started The Sprawl to fill that gap. I look back and laugh, because at the time I was like, “Oh, there’s a gap.” Now it’s all gap. The landscape has changed dramatically between then and now.

TH: In terms of business models, local news is one of the hardest business models to make work. Your tagline is, “Slow news for curious Calgarians.” Your business model is mainly crowdfunded journalism, plus some funding from the Canadian Periodical Fund and the Meta Journalism Project. How do you define slow news — and why do you think citizens are willing to pay for it, particularly in an environment like you just described, of mass outlet closures and layoffs, and declining audiences and trust?

JK: [In terms of] defining slow news, I think of it as journalism that makes sense of the world. So, I’m not running around to the latest press conference, or chasing the latest government announcement. Announcements are made, things happen, and often I very deliberately stand back from all that. There is daily news coverage still of those daily events. But I’m looking for other threads: What matters here? What’s not being talked about? What could use digging into a little more? I think people respond to that, because people do have this sense of being overwhelmed by the information ecosystem. All the fragmented information online makes it hard to make sense of the world. So, people do appreciate a perspective and an approach that’s just a little more calm and slower. There is a rhythm to it that people appreciate.

TH: I think it was your first podcast talking about NIMBYism [an ethos of “not in my backyard”], where you said, “We’re not here to deride NIMBYism, we’re here to understand it.” This is a novel concept right now, in the media environment we’re in, of trying to listen to other perspectives and trying to find some understanding.

JK: It shouldn’t be a novel perspective! It’s funny, I recently re-listened to and re-released that episode, and it reminded me of landing on this idea of curiosity, and of not trying to be contemptuous or put down a group of people, but to actually understand what’s going on, what their rationale is, and what is underpinning it. I see that as my job, fundamentally, to ask: What’s going on here? And why? 

It’s very easy for us, as journalists, to get caught up in making judgements — and to have our body of work back that up. Like: We’re going to make a judgment, and now we have to prove it through our reporting. But I find my best work is when I set that aside. When I’m like, “Okay, yeah, I’m as judgmental as anybody. But can I deliberately set that aside?”

A question that I find useful to ask myself is: Am I being declarative or inquisitive? I think journalism has slid into a lot of being declarative, particularly online. There is a whole culture of saying our opinions, as journalists, online … I find my best work, and the work that people respond to, is when I’m being inquisitive.

TH: I like that. You have posted your values and your journalistic policies on your site, which strives to produce fact-based, non-partisan, accurate reporting. I want to dig into the values that inspire your approach. According to your manifesto, those values are: depth not breadth, context not clickbait, embracing quiet, aiming to surprise and delight, being constructive not cynical, rejecting polarization, and seeking common ground. How did you arrive at that specific approach?

JK: Some of it was derived from what other organizations were doing at the time. Particularly, there was a [Dutch] outlet called De Correspondent. They had this idea of slow journalism, and being an antidote to the daily news grind, which people are fatigued of. I fleshed out these concepts, taking what interested me about other publications. Also, in conversations with my audience, being like, “What do you appreciate about The Sprawl? What resonates with you?” And then hammering out this list of values.

I’ve been thinking I need to revisit that list, because there are some elements in there that I’m like, “I don’t know what I think about that.” There is one about objectivity, where I’m kind of skeptical of that, and saying, “Rather than pretending to be objective, I say where I’m coming from.” Now, my thinking on that has evolved, where I’m like, “No, I think you can, as a journalist, aspire to be objective. That’s not a perfect process, and you don’t land on something that is perfect objectivity, but you can aspire to the ideal. I think there is value in that.” All of that to say, it’s kind of a living document that shifts.

TH: I was thinking about the benefits of being independent, of which there are many. We have a closer relationship with our audience. We have freedom. We can set values and principles, and work to ensure that we live up to them. Those are all amazing things. But there are also downsides. One of those downsides is burnout, which I know you have dealt with. You went through that last summer. How did you navigate that element of being independent?

JK: I think anybody who is running an independent publication runs into this sooner or later. You start it and there’s this initial wave of enthusiasm, and vision, and excitement. That is great, and people respond to that. It’s meaningful work and there are a lot of upsides to all of this. But then there comes a point where it just grinds you right down. Even in my case! I’m saying I’m the antidote to all this stuff that grinds you down — I’m the antidote to the daily news grind — and in my case, I didn’t escape it. It was like, “No, the pressure of this is way too much.” Basically, I had to step away and take a sabbatical for four months.

Which was an interesting process. I was actually going to shut The Sprawl down. I was like, “It has had a good run and it is probably time to wind it down.” But when I talked to family and close friends about the way forward, they talked me down. They were like, “No, just pause it. People will get it. It’s very in keeping with what you’re doing. You’re saying that you are giving people a reprieve. So if you need a reprieve, it’s not a strange thing.” 

One of the items in The Sprawl’s manifesto is around this idea of quiet, of not being always “on.” One of the bizarre things about The Sprawl, which I still don’t fully get, is that people appreciate periods where it is quiet. I tend to think, “I’m taking that time off for me.” But it is also, in a weird way, a gift to the audience — who is also looking for ways to build those kinds of reprieves into their lives. And who also have a ton of stuff to read elsewhere. Nobody is sitting around being like, “I need another article to read. There’s too few things online to read.” 

TH: [Laughs] It’s so true. I want to zoom out now, and talk about the pressures in the Canadian media environment. We’re in a moment of crisis right now. I don’t think that’s an exaggeration to say that. What do you think is the biggest challenge facing the Canadian media right now?

JK: I think there’s two things happening at the same time — one of which is, obviously, the economics of the industry are collapsing. What we think of as legacy publications are in free-fall, basically. So, there is that going on. But then there is also this issue of trust. A lot of people do not trust the media, do not trust journalism or journalists. It’s maybe the worst possible combination of things to be happening at the same time.

I think of those as the biggest challenges. I don’t think in terms of, “How do I solve those challenges?” Because I don’t think there is any solving those challenges on a big scale. I think in terms of, “On a very small scale, how can I counter that?” It’s not solving the problem writ large, but it is saying that in this small, little corner of the world, in Calgary, for people who are interested in civic affairs, I’m going to focus on doing some really in-depth, credible, trustworthy, local journalism. And people respond to that. I don’t know what the solutions are, but I see very small-scale ways to counter it.

TH: It looks like you haven’t taken government subsidies other than the Canadian Periodical Fund. Is that right?

JK: In 2020, and then last year as well.

TH: What’s your thinking on the widescale subsidies for our industry?

JK: My thinking on that has been shifting too. The reality is whether you are running a newspaper or you’re running a small outlet, there’s often a gap in your budget between what is coming in, in terms of revenue, and what it costs to run the thing. On one level, I’m like, “Awesome, there’s these subsidies available. They can make up that difference. And that’s great for journalism.”

Now my thinking on it is [changing] … I wonder about that, on a couple levels. One is you get reliant on that subsidy, and I think it actually shifts your perspective away from where it needs to be, which is on the audience: How do I get more people supporting this? How do I build trust with more people?

So, I’m more wary of it now, and I’m kind of debating that myself. Like, “Where do I stand on this? Do I want to continue accepting subsidies or go full-on reader-supported?” I know for myself, I most admire the publications that are full-on reader supported. That inspires me, as a reader. When I’m a patron of those publications — pitching in $5 a month or whatever — I find that inspiring. All of that is to say, I’m leaning more that way on it nowadays.

TH: You were a former radio reporter for the CBC. I was a former producer there. There’s been talk about the CBC needing a mandate review. I think there is a real threat that the CBC may get defunded, and I’m worried about it. This week, Heritage Minister Pascale St-Onge announced a panel to modernize the CBC. Do you find that announcement hopeful, or are you more pessimistic about what a panel like that may accomplish?

JK: I wish I was hopeful. I do hope that it does accomplish something that is constructive and useful, not just for CBC, but for the people of Canada and for the media landscape as a whole. I joke with my friends who work at CBC that all roads lead to CBC. If you want to have a job in this industry and hang around, sooner or later you’re going to end up at CBC. Also, what I’m doing is very CBC-esque. It riffs on CBC traditions and whatnot.

But CBC has no interest in collaborating. It’s not set up to boost, or to support smaller outlets. I am curious, could there be something where I record my podcast at CBC, for example? I think there’s opportunities for that kind of thing. I don’t know how optimistic I am about it. But I believe very strongly in a robust and strong CBC.

TH: To close, I want to touch on a theme from your TED Talk in 2018, which I loved. This idea of quiet journalism. You recently wrote a piece “News in an age of disorientation” that could be a good companion essay to that. In it, you talk about the hyper-reactivity of the press, particularly when it comes to online comments and social media. I want to read this quote from it:

“At its best, Twitter connected people. But as a journalist, if you weren’t careful, Twitter also became a de facto assignment editor that had you pandering, consciously or unconsciously, to a specific ideological camp, always chasing the next social media high. The platform also elicited and rewarded constant commentary from journalists. This struck me as bizarre at times. Did I miss something? Am I now a head of state, that I feel compelled to make a statement on everything always?”

I loved that paragraph. Crucially, you point out that for us journalists, there is no post-production quiet anymore. We often end up judging our own work instantly, and by our loudest online critics. In the meantime, so much of the work being published in media as a whole is, as you put it, “thin and unsatisfying.” How do we, in our own small ways, resist those trends?

JK: One thing that I often come back to is just trying to be aware of my own reactions. In all the work I do, I’m not any less judgmental and reactionary than anybody else. The only thing I’m doing that’s maybe a little bit different is I’m pausing and letting that reaction happen and then being like, “Okay, now what?” I think that’s useful for anybody. I think for many people in my generation, journalists included, it has become second nature to post all these emotional reactions online all the time. There’s an aspect of that that can feel very good, and satisfying, and kind of righteous.

But I keep coming back, in my work, to [the fact that] people are looking for something more than that. People are looking for something beyond just demonizing people we don’t agree with. People do react to this idea — in a good way — of being curious. So, I try and bring myself back to that. Am I being curious, or am I just making a judgment here? I find those questions useful to come back to.