Commercial outlets may reflect their owners' views, but this tendency is always tempered by the need to attract readers and viewers. Nonprofit outlets almost always measure their success in terms of influence, not audience, because their customers are the donors who've donated cash to influence politics, promote justice, or otherwise build a better world.
National Public Radio's 1971 mission statement, quoted in James Ledbetter's book Made Possible By … The Death of Public Broadcasting in the United States, presents this do-gooder sentiment with smiley faces and sparkling unicorns. Writes Ledbetter, who currently edits Slate's sister site, The Big Money:
[NPR's] quirky mission statement stabs at the coarseness of modern American life; it reads almost as if it were written by a team of existential psychologists. NPR pledged it would "serve the individual: it will promote personal growth; it will regard the individual differences among men with respect and joy rather than with derision and hate; it will celebrate the human experience as infinitely varied rather than vacuous and banal; it will encourage a sense of active, constructive participation rather than apathetic helplessness."
To borrow a tidy phrase from the business world, donors to nonprofits seek not payouts from their investment but psychic income. They want to feel that their money has done good, or at least caused "evil" some pain. They want to help publish stories that will make Congress to sit up and take notice and pass legislation. The want the major media to chase their stories. They want to publish stories that will convince voters to vote the way they'd have them vote. This editorial ethos persists like bacteria inside some commercial news outlets, where reporters and editors find it demeaning to file stories that readers want to read in favor of stories they think readers should read.
Where donors have explicit political goals, we should expect their contributions to crest in election years. Even if they're subtle about influencing the editorial direction of organizations they fund, they'll have a hard time building credibility outside of their core constituents. Nonbelievers know when they're being gamed and lectured to by preachy publications. Having just evicted the usual gatekeepers, how many readers are going to be eager to have philanthropists reset the news agenda?
Robert Gammon takes a combative position against nonprofit journalism in his East Bay Express blog. He warns that the Hellman-financed Bay Area News Project "threatens traditional news media in the Bay Area," which would include, of course, the East Bay Express.
Gammon calls the 120 Berkeley students working for free "slave labor" and says this workforce will give "the new venture a huge advantage over established Bay Area media organizations that depend on paid, veteran journalists to gather and put together news stories," he wrote. In the short term, the Bay Area News Project will benefit the public, but if its successes cause existing news operations to shrink and disappear, the public will end up relying on "inexperienced, unpaid students" for their news. The same could be said of the nonprofits competing with other for-profits for reader share. I cry no tears for the for-profits, but I see his logic. (James Murdoch, son of Rupert, presented a similar argument against the state-financed BBC last month.)
Nothing I've written should be taken to disparage the good work produced by Mother Jones, National Public Radio, Harper's,the Christian Science Monitor, or the Center for Investigative Reporting, to pick several nonprofits with good reputations. Hell, long ago I worked for a nonprofit magazine that did good work (Inquiry). Nor should anything I've said be automatically taken as a slam against the new nonprofits. But the rise of nonprofit journalism comes at a price. Be prepared to pay it.
Felix Salmon writes that Paul Steiger made $547,692 in his last full year as editor of the for-profit Wall Street Journal. In 2008, his first full year as editor of the nonprofit ProPublica, he made $570,000. Glad to see somebody putting profit into nonprofit. (Addendum, 8:58 p.m.: Salmon has added this "update" to his piece: "ProPublica's Dick Tofel points out that Steiger did get options when he worked for the WSJ, which brought his total compensation comfortably into seven figures. Steiger gets no bonus at ProPublica. Not that he really needs one, given that he's earning almost $50,000 a month.") Got an hour to kill? Go to Guidestar.org and find the highest nonprofit journalist salaries you can and send them to firstname.lastname@example.org. I'll publish the biggest. Watch my Twitter for self-promotion, wry asides, and retweets. (E-mail may be quoted by name in "The Fray," Slate's readers' forum; in a future article; or elsewhere unless the writer stipulates otherwise. Permanent disclosure: Slate is owned by the Washington Post Co.)