Watch out, George: politics and ‘free’ don’t mix
It’s dangerous for a free newspaper which targets readers purely on the basis of their location to be so overtly political, writes Dominic Mills – and ad revenues will be the first casualty
Last month George Osborne, tyro editor of the Evening Standard, marvelled in the Spectator diary at the process by which newspapers were put together.
He wrote: “There is something remarkable, magical even, about the way every day tens of thousands of words are written on everything from the implications of the French election to Arsène Wenger, to this summer’s trendiest cocktails; then laid out on pages with striking pictures and adverts; printed on a million copies; and delivered to hundreds of tube stations, supermarkets and the like around our capital every afternoon – all so you can have in your hand a daily quality compendium on what’s going on in the world. And it’s free. Amazing.”
Well, “remarkable, magical even” it may be. But it’s not that amazing any more is it? After all, people – known as journalists, apparently – have been doing this every day for well over 150 years. It makes you think that Osborne has not read a newspaper before.
Nevertheless, Osborne has been making his mark on the Standard – and I don’t just mean a notable drop-off in the volume of Cara Delevingne stories (approx daily to weekly) – notably last week when the news of Theresa May’s about-turn on social care costs was leaked to the paper. The result? An opportunity to stick it to his nemesis and a savage front-page headline: ‘Strong and stable? PM’s care U-turn turmoil’.
Forget the fact that this was one Conservative attacking another. Forget the fact that Osborne may see himself as the contender-in-waiting. Forget the fact that he may see himself as the only viable opposition to May, given the feebleness of the alternatives.
To me this marks a notable politicisation of the paper. Sure, the Standard has thrown its weight behind Boris, and unsuccessfully so behind Zac Goldsmith, but these were London-specific issues where the paper should have a view.
On the national stage…I’m not so sure.
It’s dangerous for a free paper which targets readers purely on the basis of their location to be so overtly political. Metro, for example, is studiedly apolitical. Sure, it takes potshots at politicians as and when the occasion demands, but it doesn’t have a political agenda into which everything must be crammed and through which every story must be angled.
I’m wondering if this is beginning to have an effect. Twice in the last few weeks I have seen Evening Standard distribution bins stuffed full of untaken issues. Once was at Waterloo at 9.20pm, where the picture with this article was taken, on a Thursday (below). In fact there were three other bins close by, making about 1,000 copies all told. The second was at Leicester Square at 8.55pm.
This was well beyond peak commuter time, and the commuter – not the tourist or the late-night reveller – must surely be the prime target for the Standard.
I’m thinking that if the copies haven’t gone by then, then they’re not going to. It’s like if you go into a newsagent at, say 5pm, and it’s got 20 unsold copies of the Daily Express you know something is wrong.
If I was an advertiser, I’d be concerned. If I was the management, I might be concerned too. It’s all very well having a trophy editor, but if readership is dropping, then life is going to be hard.
But maybe the Osborne effect is already beginning to nibble away at ad revenues. The Standard has published two ‘studies’ in the last month revealing – as if they would do anything else – what a fabulous place it is to advertise.
One saluted the ‘Evening Catch’, aka the London commuter who looks to shop while they’re travelling. The other, in conjunction with Zenith, shows among other things that Londoners are more receptive to and influenced by ads than the likes of people from Birmingham.
You can find both in the News and Opinion section of the Newsworks site. As it happens, I find both believable. But I wonder if their real role is as a tool to shore up ad revenues if the politicisation of the paper turns readers or advertisers off.
My view is that it will. After all, by constituency colour London is a Labour city, even if the Home Counties aren’t.
Osborne, even if he hates Theresa May, is still a Conservative. And, by his very nature, he is bound to be overtly political.
Readers, and ultimately advertisers, may vote with their feet. And both have plenty of alternatives.
Theresa adopts good old direct mail
The envelope was ordinary. So ordinary I can’t even remember what it looked like. The letter – pictured below – wasn’t.
It was from TM the PM. It was addressed directly to my wife and I.
Leaving aside the contents, I’m impressed. There is something magical about the power of a personally addressed letter – and signed too! – that captures the attention.
If you’re wondering where your copy is, don’t bother unless you live in a marginal. I live in Twickenham, snatched with a 2,000 or so majority from Vince Cable last time round. Vince is stalking again, and in a pro-Remain constituency might make it.
If you subject the letter to what SEO experts would call key word density analysis, it comes up like you’d expect: there are three ‘strong and stables’; five mentions of the word ‘strong’ or variations thereof; and three personal appeals by name to my wife and I – ‘Dominic and Elisabeth’.
And there’s the age-old direct marketing P.S. appendix – a final reminder of the perils of the ‘coalition of chaos’ – the sort that copywriters trained at the feet of David Ogilvy or Lester Wunderman would have learned in their first lesson. The writing is taut, tight and economical.
In an age of social media, it’s gloriously old-fashioned. But effective. Friends who also live in marginals have mentioned their letters. When TM the PM reaches out via the RM (that’s Royal Mail) you can’t help but notice.
Who knows, it might even make a Royal Mail case study.