For the first time in decades it’s cool to be a renter. So why is it so hard to rent a home and still be “green”?

This week, as news outlets across the board reported a steep decline in home sales and prices in July, especially in the West, some reported increased preferences for renting, especially with the added uncertainty wrought by high unemployment levels. Particia Orsini of AOL’s Housing Watch reported Aug. 26 that Americans, particularly homeowners, are now more likely to think that renting a home is more prudent than buying one. Other news outlets, such as Forbes and the Real Estate Channel and Time’s “Curious Capitalist” blog, also recently dissected the growing preference for renting.

Orsini cited statistics from Harvard’s Joint Center for Housing Studies. I took a glance at that report – titled State of the Nation’s Housing 2010 – and found it shows that rental vacancies grew from 2006 to 2009, even though the renter pool was growing at the same time. In fact, U.S. Census Bureau housing vacancy survey data cited by the report shows that fewer people own homes in the West compared to any other region in the nation. The same numbers also show that nearly three-quarters of white Americans own homes while fewer than half of minority populations do.

So, what does this all have to do with the environment?

Everything. When we discuss incentives for energy efficiency we often focus on homeowners. Doing so leaves out millions of Americans, who by necessity or choice, rent their homes instead of buy. These renters may not be paying property taxes, but they still often pay for utilities such as electricity, gas and garbage disposal. As fewer Americans own homes, more will rent. Since they’re more likely to be renters, minorities are less likely to have access to financial incentives for making their homes more environmentally friendly. (The same could be said of residents of any ethnicity living in the West, where home ownership rates are low.)

In an Aug. 18 Palo Alto Online article, Ryan Deto points out that the thousands of dollars in upfront costs for homeowners to install solar systems or edible gardens are out of reach for low-income renters. Those costs would be even greater for a multi-unit property owner who, in many cases, isn’t the one who would see the savings of efficiency measures on utility bills.

That’s why it was encouraging to read Willey Staley’s Aug. 24 “Urban Nation” column in Next American City. In the piece, Staley described how an 81-unit senior housing complex in Boulder, Colo., was one of 100 affordable multi-family housing complexes to receive a share of $112 million in stimulus grants and loans from the Department of Housing and Urban Development for green retrofits such as solar panels and new, more efficient appliances.

In lauding the grants, Staley captures some of the early drama and, dare I say it, hope for a possible “Green New Deal” that surrounded early coverage of the economic stimulus.

“In a sense, this is a perfect example of what the American Reinvestment and Recovery Act was supposed to accomplish,” Staley writes. “It saves money both for property owners and tenants (emphasis mine), the federal government, creates domestic green jobs, and will contribute to reducing carbon emissions down the road. It’s hard to imagine a program that better encapsulates the Obama Administration’s policy goals: public spending that attracts private investment in more sustainable technologies, and helps ensure long- and short-term prosperity.”

Staley’s optimism is great, but there’s a problem. The West – which is being hit harder than anywhere else in the country by the shifting housing market – received far less than other regions from HUD’s recent series of green retrofits. Of the 100 green retrofit awards announced by the department (the department’s press release about the retrofits includes a link to a PDF copy of the list), only 17 were directed at projects in the region. In fact, money was doled out for projects in but five states in the region – California, Oregon, Washington, Nevada and Colorado. Of the nearly $112 million in awards, only a little more than $15 million, or about 14 percent, went to these states.

Even so, the grants only serve low-income renters who live in federally assisted housing. Millions of low-income renters don’t, as detailed in the Harvard housing study.

“Despite federal support for rental assistance of about $45 billion per year, only about one-quarter of eligible renter households report receiving housing assistance,” the report’s executive summary said.

If we want lasting economic and environmental prosperity shouldn’t we as a nation be investing in everyone who is participating in our economic system and interacting with our environment?

Many environmentalists treated the news as a betrayal and yet another delay in the move away from a fossil fuel economy. Business leaders were generally heartened by the news. Some Republicans expressed cautious optimism about the President’s willingness to compromise, though others saw the move as thinly-veiled politics.

News organizations, meanwhile, treated the news as the surprise it was, with banner headlines and lead stories on broadcasts. You can read about the decision many places on the Web. I’d like to discuss, instead, how the news has been covered, particularly by National Public Radio. I believe NPR missed a chance to thoroughly cover the story. Listeners who first learned about the decision during their commutes home yesterday afternoon and on their way to work today, thus, missed a chance to fully understand a decision whose implications may reverberate for decades.

National Public Radio rightly decided to lead All Things Considered with Scott Horseley’s report on Obama’s decision on offshore drilling. As NPR’s White House correspondent, Horseley focused primarily on the politics of the announcement. His report included Obama’s statements justifying the decision as well as a sound bite from Florida Senator Lindsey Graham expressing what it meant for Republicans. It also included a reaction to the announcement by energy industry analyst Phil Flynn.

Horsely’s four minute piece described the decision as one “sure to turn some green energy advocates red” and briefly included two of those advocates’ voices: a snippet of a statement from the League of Conservation Voters and part of an interview with National Resources Defense Council President Frances Beinecke. Beinecke expressed her organization’s concern about “some of the most sensitive marine environments in the country.”

Missing from NPR’s follow-up coverage, though, was significant analysis of the decision from those advocates’ perspectives or from other, perhaps more neutral analysts. By contrast, NPR has since devoted much of its coverage to oil industry reaction beyond Flynn’s analysis in the initial story.

Immediately following Horseley’s report, NPR aired four and a half minutes of discussion between All Things Considered Host Robert Siegel and Ben Cahill, an oil industry analyst from PFC Energy, about what the news meant for the oil business. What NPR didn’t do is find someone who could talk about what the decision means for the ocean, for the global environment, and for economies and community health near the proposed drilling areas. Such a source needed not be Beinecke or other environmentalists. A marine scientist, a climatologist, or a geologist could have provided valuable analysis of the decision’s implications. If a news outlet wants to consider all things related to a society, it must not only consider that society’s business, but its politics, its, people, and its natural surroundings. All of those forces and more – business included – shape a society, a country and a world.

Today brought Morning Edition and a story by Scott Finn titled “Environmentalists Question Offshore Drilling Plan.” Despite the headline, the only concern expressed in the three-minute piece came from Kathly Douglas, a St. Petersburg power walker and opponent of oil drilling. I don’t think the power of citizen and community voices should be discounted and I’m cautious about which voices we call authoritative, but if Douglas had further background and credibility as an opponent of the drilling, Finn did not present her credentials (A simple Google search shows she’s involved with a regional branch of the Sierra Club focused on coastal issues in Florida, though that background wasn’t noted by Finn). As it turns out, in a piece advertised as discussing opposition to the drilling, hers was the lone voice expressing such opposition. Finn did include other St. Pete Beach visitors not as concerned as Douglas about the possibility of drilling. He also spoke with David Mica, the executive director of the Florida Petroleum Council, who welcomed the President’s decision. In fact, the piece also included the only scientific voice NPR has yet aired reflecting upon this story, the University of South Florida’s Al Hine, who countered claims that there might not be enough oil off the Florida coast to justify the drilling.

Yesterday afternoon, Scott Neuman (Apparently only Scotts are reporting this story) wrote an accompanying story for NPR’s Web site that more deeply explores this topic. He presented detailed information on government estimates of how much oil and gas might be found off the Atlantic coast. He also introduced Oceana, another environmental organization opposed to the drilling, further described the historical context of the drilling and explained what other obstacles have to be surmounted before. drilling can start. Still, that’s the limit of NPR’s added coverage. While I applaud the network’s use of the Web to deepen its coverage, I question how many listeners actually decided to pursue that further coverage. I also wonder why it hasn’t used the Web to deepen its analysis (and provide interpretations beyond Cahill’s).

Reporters working on tight deadlines are not obligated to devote precisely equal amounts of time to sources on different sides of controversial topics, particularly complex, ongoing discussions that involve many more than two sides. They should, however, strive to do so. Journalists must make far more complicated judgments about how they weigh the voices included in their reporting. They have to take care not to perpetuate the falsely dichotomous conflict narratives so prevalent in contemporary news coverage, but they also have to provide perspectives of comparable authority when covering controversial topics (particularly when they specifically refer to controversy in their stories).

Unless something changes by the time today’s All Things Considered airs, which East Coast listeners will have heard by the time this entry posts, the network will have missed its chance to provide a thorough introduction to this very significant news. The same argument could rightly have been made if NPR spoke predominantly with Beinecke and her allies and minimized its exploration of oil industry voices.

Even if there is substantive follow-up of the story this evening, the damage has been done. NPR has already framed the decision in audiences’ minds without providing thorough analysis or context.

Many comments posted to the Star‘s Web site featured the theme of the Wagon Wheel as an eyesore, a blemish to the entrance of Oxnard, Ventura County’s largest city. The building and its surroundings, they argue, should have been torn down long ago. Some commenters argue the conservancy should repay Daly for the costs of the delay, costs he claims mount by the thousands each day the construction is delayed. For his own part, Daly argues in the Star article that blocking the demolition permit further delays construction of the affordable housing element of his development. On the other hand, neither Star reporter Scott Hadly, his sources on either side of the story, nor any of the commenters pouncing on the article address one crucial question: why is Daly building this project now? Why is it so urgent?

Drive across the 101 from the Wagon Wheel, located here and one finds the massive development known as RiverPark. On the north side of the freeway, just outside of that development, stands a billboard declaring homes starting from “the 200s.” That simple advertisement, that homes in RiverPark are selling for only 200 grand, tells the entire story. Homes aren’t selling in Ventura County. Even with reports Oct. 29 of an unofficial end ot the “worst recession since World War II,” our economy is sputtering. Should Daly, or anyone, be building new homes right now?

Let’s argue for a moment that he should, that he has a right to, or that, simply, as the owner of the property upon which the Wagon Wheel Motel stands he should be allowed to finish the project he’s started. Does that mean A)It’s right if he does so or B)It’s wise if he does? Daly seems to be gambling that by the time the project is completed we will be out of this gut-wrenching time, that consumers are going to return to the table unaffected by the misery of the past two years, give or take a quarter, that every American is going to want a condo or a townhouse across a freeway offramp from a cookie cutter mini-mall and down the block from a thousand other condos and townhouses just like their very own (though the possibility of a “transit center” at The Village raises some intriguing possibilities).

Are we so sure of that? Are we so sure that our behaviors are not going to change after this recession, that we’re not going to think strategically, that we’re not going to act differently, that we’re not going to operate differently? Even if we get ourselves into some other economic mess — which is quite likely — some lessons, even if they’re not the right ones, have surely been learned during this period.

Besides the possibility Daly is hoping for a boom by the time The Village is done, another reason one might want to see it started immediately directly relates to the current economy. Perhaps, one might argue, every day we hesitate to build is a day we cost ourselves valuable construction jobs, jobs that could earn money to feed families, jobs that could pay residents money they can use to spend on clothes and food and cars and gadgets and all the other everythings sold in the county’s stores.  Aren’t we, by blocking those jobs, which provide that income, which allows that spending also preventing the economic growth that comes from that spending, preventing the jobs created by that growth, and preventing the income those jobs allow?

Perhaps.

What are we really protecting? We have a great deal of unsold housing stock. Oxnard has buildings that already exist. Ventura County has miles upon miles of substandard homes and poorly utilized space. What if we spent the same time, the same money, the same energy and investment and subsidies we would put into new projects on instead reconstructing the cities and communities and neighborhoods that already exist. What if we brought our county, and our country, back to life? We might accomplish multiple goals. We would still put our contractors and construction crews and architects and plumbers and electricians and welders back to work, but we would do so without turning our backs on our neighbors and on our past. We could engage our community. What if we integrated our history into our past, instead of throwing it out? What if, instead, we learned to reuse the materials that already exist across Ventura County and beyond, to really recycle the world in which we live, rather than throw it out like the 4.5 pounds of trash we still throw away each and every day?

The Untold Story

Meanwhile where is the Ventura County Reporter? The county’s alternative newsweekly — which I edited from 2007-2008 — has the luxury as a weekly publication to dig deeply behind this story. Why hasn’t it looked at the subject in more depth since Matt Singer’s 2006 examination of the project, in which Singer took the time to speak with Daly? The Reporter barely touched on the topic since then. (including during my time at the helm, though I did mention it in this Nov., 2007 piece about a proposed traffic control initiative in Oxnard). In March, Staff Writer Paul Sisolak wrote a piece about the Conservancy’s lawsuit against the city for allegedly violating state environmental rules by by approving the project, but that’s the only significant reference. Sisolak’s piece introduced the story, but it paired extensive discussion of the conservancy’s position with only a brief quote from a city councilman supporting Oxnard’s official position.

The quote is, in fact, a doozy. Oxnard Mayor Pro Tem Andres Herrera told Sisolak “But I vividly recall … that the original plans the owner had never included preservation. I just don’t see the historical significance to a dilapidated hotel.”

What original planner of any building includes historic preservation its plans? Who sits down and says “this will be a historic space?” (actually I imagine there are many ego-driven builders who proclaim the significance of a building, but I believe you understand my point)? Again, isn’t there an argument to be made that perhaps the reason the complex is dilapidated, perhaps the reason it looks so uninviting is because it has hung in limbo for so long?

More importantly, why did the Reporter stop there with that story?  Granted, the Oct. 30 stay occurred after the most recent Reporter went to press, and Reiser’s decision two days earlier not to halt construction may have missed the print deadline as well; however, where was the paper for the runup to the decision or any of the past seven months since it last covered this subject? Why hasn’t it investigated the nuances of landuse in Oxnard, the ways in which the city is cast again and again as the toilet of Ventura County, as the dump that must be saved from its past by some glorious new future, the city that, in order to be saved, must be destroyed? Perhaps it might even discover, or present a feature that allows its readers to discover, that Daly’s proposal is a needed project. Yet the story remains untold.

As it turns out, the Reporter’s most recent cover story focuses on “the top 10 stories not brought to you by the mainstream media in 2008 and 2009,” an annual list of under-reported news stories compiled by Project Censored. While it’s important to draw readers’ attention to buried subjects, countless other online outlets make available the content the Reporter repackages here. In doing so, itmisses opportunities to inform its readers and strengthen civic engagement by digging into subjects it has the ability to sink its teeth into. Instead of opening eyes, it’s missing the opportunity to start a real discussion within the community about how Ventura County will move on from the recession and whether Oxnard can ever grow in a different fashion. Those are the sort of stories that can’t be duplicated, and thus the sort of stories that make a publication indispensable. Like any business in any industry, any news outlet that wants to survive must make itself indispensable.

Perhaps you’re taking a stand to help slow climate change by participating in one of more than 4,000 actions in 170 countries being organized by 350.org. The number, as the organization will tell you, represents the parts per million of carbon dioxide thought to be the upper limit for avoiding runaway climate change (we are currently at 387 parts per million).

You can come to your own conclusions about whether or not to join these actions. As a journalist, perhaps I shouldn’t attempt to sway you to action. However, it is also my responsibility to describe the world in which we live, to clearly present information and to sort through the distractions – both unintended and intended – that obscure the truth.

As my career has evolved, I have found myself increasingly drawn to exploring how society copes with the possibility of a changing environment from a political, scientific, sociological and cultural perspective. Many facets of contemporary life have an environmental component, including politics, the economy, culture and technology.

Much is made about the emergence of green technologies and there are great business stories to pursue revolving around sustainability, but there is so much more. Voters are making green issues a higher priority, cities are incorporating environmental standards and requirements in planning decisions, romantic partners are choosing to hold carbon-neutral weddings and environmental litigation and prosecutions are keeping many lawyers, and law enforcement personnel, busy.

There are many questions to be answered about the intersections of the environment and society. How do we as a society cope with the possibility of a changing climate and shifting availability of resources? How do environmental transitions affect society, politics, family and personal relationships? How do they affect our mythology and our beliefs? Humans tend to progress in crisis, or to change, to be at their best, and I would like to observe and document society’s reaction to environmental shifts. How does a slow-moving crisis affect human behavior?

In recent years I’ve had discussions with my grandmother about her cousin, the journalist Melville Jacoby. Melville served as a correspondent in China and Southeast Asia in the 1930s and early 40s, eventually penning articles for outlets such as Time, Life and the United Press Syndicate at the onset of World War II. Melville was my age at the time — younger actually — yet he was so deeply immersed he reported from the midst of a narrow escape from the Philippines after the Japanese invasion and, earlier during his travels through China, became close to Chiang Kai-Shek. Killed at 25 in an accident in Australia in 1942, he left behind rich accounts of his life in the form of letters, dispatches and photos now in my grandmother’s possession.

In exploring these accounts, I realize Melville played a central role telling stories about one small part of another great, global crisis. Perhaps the war was more romantic than the environmental movement’s seemingly glacial pace, but both crises are the defining milieus of a particular generation. Like Melville, I want to chronicle my generation’s response to its crisis.

When I applied to USC more than a year ago I wrote about how the shifting environment is fast becoming a global story, possibly the only global story, a point similar to one recently argued by Bill McKibben and other journalists. Back in the Spring of 2008 I argued that whether one accepts climate change as a preventable human crisis, or disagrees that it is a threat (or is caused by human activity), the mere discussion of the environment has global and local implications. If a shipping company invests in more efficient cargo jets because it expects to save money by stretching its fuel spending or does so because it perceives a public relations boost, that company is making a decision with tremendous impact on the environment. At a more local level, the city resident who uses a combination of bikes and mass transit to get to work because she realizes the reduction in her carbon footprint, or because she just cannot afford to purchase a car, will affect the environment either way. There is a difference in scale, but the outcome of either decision will impact many beyond the company and the young woman, altering the experiences and decisions of those additional parties.

Last night, I attended the monthly mixer of my local chapter of the Society for Professional Journalists. For the subway trip to the event, held in Downtown Los Angeles, I brought with me a copy of Elizabeth Kolbert‘s Field Notes from a Catastrophe. The book presents a stunning narrative of global climate change’s impact. Rich with science, Field Notes remains a page-turner, as well-crafted as it is well-researched. “That,” I kept thinking as I read, “is the sort of work I should be doing.”

Yesterday, in a widely dissected event, the Yes Men satirized the U.S. Chamber of Commerce by pretending to represent the group at a press conference and announcing that the chamber had reversed its position on climate change. The event reminded me of the beauty of creative action. It also, coincidentally, sparked thoughts on the flaws in contemporary instant journalism, a subject that has been dissected in the Toronto Star and by Dana Milbank, as well as in a discussion I have been a part of on the SPJ’s First Draft blog (and many other locations since I first drafted this post)

What all this reminds me is that I should be writing every day. I should be dissecting this problem and pouring my energy into it. I have the time. I have the preparation. I have the knowledge. I don’t want to beat myself up too much, but I do have to acknowledge that if I want to chronicle my generation’s great struggle as Melville did 70 years ago I can’t wait for the story to come to me.

In recent months I’ve been applying to dozens of jobs. I’ve been trying to figure out my future. I’ve been pitching stories, writing cover letters and trying to identify myself, what I want and what I have to offer. I’ve been telling strangers why I matter to them and why only I can give them what they need. Meanwhile, I’ve been standing still, throwing things against the wall, rather than creating the world I want for myself. I don’t say all this to draw attention to myself and my individual efforts. Instead, I say this because we cannot have the world we want unless we create it. It’s that simple.

A bevy of berries on display at the Wilshire Center/Koreatown farmers market above the Wilshire/Vermont Metro rail station.

Settling into a life of self-employed writerdom has taken a bit of getting used to. Roadblock number one: discipline. Thus, despite grand plans and great lists and now-fleeting moments of inspiration, I’ve been adoring my French press, discovering there are few breakfasts not bettered by adding a few blackberries (please technophiles, I’m talking about the kind that grow on shrubs, and, specifically, the ones purchased from the Friday farmer’s markets at the Wilshire/Vermont Subway station in Koreatown – See Photo) and semi-limbering myself up with a few rounds of Wii Fit Yoga. It’s only taken since I first drafted this post in early June to get around to finishing it. There’s slow food, a burgeoning slow journalism movement, and, now, slow blogging.

Being the bearer of a new master’s degree from a large, somewhat unduly-pompous university in Los Angeles and an education from a small liberal arts college in flyover country, I begrudgingly acknowledge I might fit into a class-based stereotype or two, especially now that I’ve mentioned farmer’s markets,  yoga (and Wii Fit at that) and fresh coffee in one sentence. At the least I’ve done my part to prove I like Stuff White People Like . So I’m not doing myself any favors when I mention that one of my other recent joys is the chance to listen to NPR’s Morning Edition as I putter around coming up with distractions for the day.

Even better than Morning Edition, though, is the ten minutes KCRW devotes at the end of its broadcasts to the Marketplace Morning Report. Marketplace does a tremendous job of putting business news into plain English without dumbing it down, and I generally find its stories more compelling and educational than the business news from NPR (Planet Money excluded), so I’m glad Santa Monica’s gem of a radio station offers this alternative.

One morning, though, I was struck by a promo for one of the Morning Report’s underwriters: agribusiness giant Monsanto, which, audiences were told, is “Committed to sustainable agriculture.”

How would Monsanto maintain this commitment? Apparently, in their view, their recipe for sustainability is “Produce more, conserve more.”

The thing is, that’s the problem. The entire point of conserving more is to counter the need to produce more.

Monsanto’s take is that it’s helping farmers produce more food. The company insists it’s just meeting the needs of the earth’s growing population. But is that the right course of action, or should we be focusing on better distribution of food?

On its Web site, Monsanto continues the claim, adding “improve farmers’ lives.”

Contacted for his comment on the seeming contradiction between conservation and production, Monsanto spokesperson Darren Wallis explained that hunger is such a complex problem that neither better distribution nor increased production are solutions alone. Dramatic population increases expected over the next half-century necessitates accelerated production, but it will do so at the cost of existing resources, including land, water and nitrogen.

“From our view,” Wallis said, “The great challenge is to produce more AND conserve more [emphasis his]. Monsanto has committed to that challenge.”

Monsanto, Wallis said, committed to a “sustainable” yield to address that challenge. Their goals include doubling crop yields on core crops, using 1/3 fewer inputs to do so and “helping improve the lives of farmers.”

For the moment, I’m not going to explore the controversial history of Monsanto’s relationship with the environment. My extant concern is this attitude that we can somehow continue to produce and produce and produce, just more efficiently, smartly and more “sustainably.” But it’s telling that few people, whether corporate agriculture giants, activists or green-leaning politicians define what sustainable means. What are we sustaining? How do we define “improved” lives? All that increased conservation does, if not coupled with decreased production (and decreased demand), is postpone the inevitable.

What I’m writing here is not new. But it’s telling that the message that perhaps enough is, indeed, enough is not getting through to the society as a whole. Why do we continue to believe that we can live, — even that we should live — as we have for the past century? Do we even want to? Why do we resist sacrifice, change and evolution so readily on one hand, but continue to demand new technology, cleaner cars, more honest politicians, healthier cities and faster communication? We need none of these things. We need different ideas. Different models. We need not to improve what we have.  If we want to live differently then we have to live differently. We need to tear down what we have, not just repaint it.

I say that, yet at the same time I also believe we need to stop trying to improve and just live more honestly, more truly. We need to stop expecting that by traveling just a few more feet we will be home. I guess I think the problem is we can’t decide what home is. We can’t determine whether home is a place we must return to, if home is some destination in the distance, or if home is where we are, always.

When we discuss conservation we constantly discuss new technology and better habits. We shame each other into improvement. Yet we’re still too embarrassed to discuss one topic: overpopulation. Why can we talk carbon credits, carbon sequestration, recycling, compost, energy conservation and smart growth, but not smart people and limited population? Overpopulation shouldn’t be discussed without doing so in terms of the consumptive potential of populations (i.e. the environmental strain of an American far outstrips that of an Indian or even a Chinese person, despite the fact those two countries share a third of the world’s population – and, when considering the environmental impacts of a developing economy, we must consider the role our domestic demand plays in stirring such foreign economies). True, procreation is our deepest human instinct. What right do we have to suggest to others to deny that instinct? Yet, at the same time, if survival of the species is our ultimate goal, we are dooming it with every moment of silence we maintain on this topic.

We need to share the message that the culture of more is not the answer. More wealth is not the solution. Economists lament that Americans are saving too much money, they’re not spending enough to support our economy. Is anyone willing to suggest that might be a good thing, that, for once, some Americans are living within their means? Consumerism’s weaknesses are so visible. Why are we so eager to return to where we were, and why are we so eager to bring the rest of the world into our mess?

I hope to write more about this cult of “more.” I’ve never quite understood why accumulation is often considered synonymous to satisfaction, security, and even basic survival. While taking care to prepare for the future and buttress oneself and one’s community against unforeseen dangers is a rational action, no argument can be made that this is what is sought through worshiping growth at any cost.  There are, sadly, too many examples of society jeopardizing its future and current happiness and strength in the pursuit of consumption’s façades.

]]> http://lascheratlarge.com/2009/07/20/more-and-more/feed/ 1 http://lascheratlarge.com/2009/06/14/greenboomorbust/ http://lascheratlarge.com/2009/06/14/greenboomorbust/#comments Sun, 14 Jun 2009 22:52:50 +0000 Bill http://lascheratlarge.com/?p=487 “Wheel is going green,” blared a television announcer during a Spring broadcast of TV’s popular game show “Jeopardy.” The wheel in question? “Jeopardy”’s sister show, the equally well-known “Wheel of Fortune.”

Pat Sajak and Vanna White — icons for decades of American dreams of easy money — became the latest public

Read the rest of Will Going Green be the Next Way We Go Bust?

Earlier this week someone asked me for a short description of the type of work I’d be interested in. While I understand the need for focus, I’m always amazed how difficult it is to sharpen my my interests to a well-defined point. As a writer and an observer I hesitate to craft such definitions. I fret about what I could be leaving out by bounding my interests. If I am to be open to recounting the stories I encounter I don’t want to pen myself into a place where I don’t feel prepared to tell certain ones. As my personal acquaintances know, I am a restless, transitory man. I often long to run my toes through that green, green grass on the other side of the fence, sometimes (often) at the cost of savoring the tranquil landscape at my feet. Of course, in any field, successful individuals know summarizing their own work isn’t a limiting practice, but rather a guide to help them understand the tools available at their own disposal for future endeavors. Thus the challenge for me — and presumably millions of other people considering their futures — is to plot the path before me by identifying both where I want to be and knowing just how much I’m worth based on the skills I’ve already developed.

When my father, Edward L. Lascher, penned his Lascher at Large column, he spent much of his time dissecting his own profession, the practice of law. Now that I’ve completed my work at USC, one regular feature of this Web site will be follow-ups of subjects he first broached two decades ago (or earlier).

Today, though, I thought I’d take a moment to express some frustrations about aspects of my own profession. No, right now I won’t discuss whether newspapers are dying or how journalism is to be saved (Suffice it to say that success will come from energy devoted to quality, compelling content, not desperate hand-wringing over the latest bells and whistles and revenue generation models). Instead, I want to talk about the outrageous expectations expressed by some hiring managers and others soliciting original content.

I understand that businesses are struggling to make ends meet. I am fully aware how privileged I am to have the luxury to experiment with freelance writing instead of savoring the opportunity to make ends meet with a stable job. Many folks don’t have that chance. Many have families to feed, mortgages to pay, debts to satisfy. In fact, sadly, more and more people just need some way to put food in their own mouths and a roof over their own heads.

Nonetheless, that doesn’t excuse employers from taking advantage of their potential hires. As I’ve been redefining myself, I’ve also been keeping tabs on journalism, writing and editing opportunities in Los Angeles and other cities in which I’d enjoy living. Call me naïve, but a few examples posted to Craigslist yesterday are shocking.

An online community newspaper in Pasadena advertised it was seeking a full-time assistant editor with “Newspaper experience to develop story ideas, to make and manage assignments, to schedule and manage writers, copy edit, fact check, proof and write.” This individual was to have a “minimum [emphasis mine] 5 years’ experience with a community newspaper,” and possess a number of skills that would benefit any publication, online or in print.

What was the enticement for this demanding job? $600-700 a week and no mention of any benefits. For those with slow computational skills, that’s between just more than $31,000 and $36,400 a year. While the individual could work from home, and thus, presumably didn’t have to live in Pasadena, where rents for a one bedroom apartment start around $1,000 and more often than not top $1,500, any candidate for the position who wanted to live close to the community he or she covered would struggle just to pay for housing. At a time when hyper-local and niche coverage is becoming more the norm (the Voice of San Diego is one tremendously successful and inspiring example), one would think someone with five years of experience in community coverage in addition to the ability to manage a publication online would be a tremendous asset to new media outlets.

Of course, there are more outrageous examples. One poster to Craigslist wanted a professional writer to work for free on targeted promotional materials. Unfortunately, that post has been taken down, but not before a follow-up post from someone who shares my frustration (albeit with a bit more vitriol). Sadly as the respondent refers to, such posts are hardly uncommon on Craigslist. I haven’t explored postings in other professions, but I suspect we are not alone in our consternation.

Meanwhile, another poster is searching far and wide for a writer to pen “30 original articles about Las Vegas attractions, events and history.” Each is expected to be an original work of between 600 and 800 words. How much is being offered for this body of work? Ten cents a word (a low, but still, sadly, realistic figure)? Try $200 for the entire package. Let’s break that down. They want about 21,000 words written for two bills. That’s 1.05 cents a word. A penny and a half. Must I break down the time it takes to produce that much original observation of heavily-publicized hotels and nightclubs and figure out what that means in hourly terms?

Freelancers are often cautioned not to calculate their work in hourly terms lest their hearts plummet to the floor along with their bank accounts. Work is work, right? Sadly, I know someone will take each of these gigs. And more power to them – I know how hard it is to find work and I know how important it is to build up a portfolio. So if they need to hustle to make a career, I’m not stopping them.

Still, if publishers and other hiring managers want to succeed, they will need a committed, loyal and stable staff and to develop sharp, insightful contributors. An investment in skilled journalists ready to take risks to lead publications into the future is a wise choice. It may seem counter-intuitive to talk about investment in a time of economic malaise, but those who take such leaps of faith will be best positioned for future success. Those, however, who treat their content producers as chattel will continue to struggle to maintain a stable source of original content, and thus, they will spend all their time watching editors and writers leave for greener pastures while their competitors invest in competent, devoted teams passionate about the work their doing and the success of their organizations. The former will have no content to which they can apply their ingenious revenue generation models, while the latter will long benefit from quality work that sells itself.

Regardless, I can’t deny how much I enjoy the sound of the rain scattering across the broad leaves of the banana trees outside my window. It is incredibly comforting. A reminder on this day, when the U.S. House of Representatives took steps to at least appear to combat this historical moment so poorly underdescribed as an “economic crisis,” that I am fortunate to have a place to live, to shelter myself from the rain drops, to savor not dread their sound.

I have the choice to be dry. The choice to be wet.

I really still can choose.

I imagine I’ll be writing a lot about choices in the coming months. About the choices I make. About the choices others make. About the choices that have been taken, those that could be taken, and those that have been avoided and postponed. But I think about choices often, and my opportunity to make them. It’s not because I’m taking a course in institutional decision-making — although I’m sure the subject influences my thoughts here.

Rather, I just think about my recent reporting, about the unique position in which so many of us still find ourselves. This is our moment to choose. We can choose to live life as we have, to return to the way things have been, to struggle and claw against time, or we can choose to live differently, to stop fighting the current and instead, to be carried along, to let the world unfold before us. We are where we are, and we will be where we will be. Shouldn’t we accept that? Or is that easy for me to say, not facing the worst of these times?