The other day driving to the ACES convention in Minneapolis, I was thinking about journalism and gaming, and the problems of the news industry. So many people are proposing new ideas, or bemoaning the moves made by industry titans. But what do we really know?

I’d love to see how much a major newspaper chain spends on various cost centers (printing, distribution, sales, management, editorial, etc.), and then see how those cost centers could be managed to make a reasonable profit without gutting the editorial division.

Which is when it hit me: Newspaper Tycoon. I’ve seen several versions of the Playstation/PC game “Railroad Tycoon,” and when I was just out of college, I got wrapped up in the SimCity craze when it came to the Macintosh.

So why couldn’t someone create a version of that “real-world” simulation for newspapers (or any media in this crazy environment)?

Imagine being offered the chance to purchase family-owned newspapers, and trying to juggle the debt created by such purchases, and figuring out how to survive the Internet cuts in your classified income. Trying to come up with new ways to boost circulation, dealing with labor strife, advertiser complaints over negative coverage, etc.

What lessons could be learned from such a game that had accurate figures that depicted the real business decisions that have to be made, and the competing “stakeholder” commitments that newspaper execs have to deal with.

I think it’s a good idea. And it would also help with anyone who wanted to teach or take a “business of journalism” class. Maybe this has already been developed, and I’m just not aware of it. If so, please let me know in the comments. Otherwise, it’s an idea that I’m giving away for free.

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It seems a common trait when “new” means of communication arise for there to be a bit of the “tsk tsk” from folks who don’t seem to “get it.” It can happen with a medium, or with a message (think rock ‘n’ roll and blogging).

Lately, it’s happening with Twitter, in particular, and “social media” in general.

The latest examples to fall into this vein of luddism are from Margaret Wente of the Globe and Mail, Jenny McCarthy of the Telegraph UK, and Robert G. Picard of The Media Business.

I encourage you to read those three pieces and the points made in them. Then come back.

Now, I’m not going to get into how many times I’ve heard these points raised about every different new platform for expression that comes along (recalling the professor who described blogging as “the mental equivalent of masturbation”). And I’m not going to debate whether telling everyone about your “banal” existence actually achieves any worthwhile ends. There are certainly problems with social media.

But I do want to say that all this “narcissism” is a good thing from a historical perspective.

Bear with me for a little biographical backstory: While attending South Carolina for my Ph.D. courses, I was able to take a course in journalism history that was very informative, and led to a conference paper that I was actually quite pleased with. (see the Academic Resources section of this site for a PDF version).

But one thing I learned from journalism history is that there are an awful lot of “holes” in the historical record. Source documents are remarkably limited. Secondary sources like news reports are remarkably limited. What brought this home to me was listening to Rep. James Clyburn of South Carolina talk about protests where he was arrested and not a single word appeared in the local newspaper.

Then there are lives that are lived outside the glare of cameras and media attention. Ordinary people who exist as unemployment statistics, or productivity statistics. If you were to do research on these people, you’d likely find some gov’t documents, maybe, as McCartney noted, “a few photographs,” but precious little else.

The beauty of social media from a historical perspective is that there is a greater chance that the lives of individual real people can be saved for the historical record. A fuller picture of the people who surround us will be available for future historians, for future generations. That doesn’t mean it will all have equal value. But it could be available. I wish more of my great-grandfather’s life was available for me to know about, to learn from.

One thing social media allows that past media platforms don’t is the ability to put more of “yourself” into the medium. TV doesn’t allow that. How many historical nuggets did we lose to people watching “Must See TV” instead of living their lives?

Of people listening to crap top-40 radio instead of creating their own music?

Now let’s turn that around: What if you had access to your great-great-grandparents’ Twitter feeds, Facebook updates, Flickr photos, and YouTube mashups? Not to mention their iTunes playlists? Could you get a better idea of who they were than looking at a few faded posed pictures, maybe an old diary, and some government records?

That can’t be a bad thing.

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This morning’s Random Idea is called the Unicorn Chaser sidebar.

We’ve all seen the “related content” links that show on a web site’ story page. Here’s one from the New York Times:

So the idea is this: people are always complaining that there’s not enough “good news” being told. What if you created a “related content” box that featured good news as an antidote to the bad news you’re reading currently.

I’m calling it the Unicorn Chaser box in honor of Boing Boing’s original Unicorn Chaser.

For instance, let’s say you were reading an article about how disgusting and unclean doctors’ lab coats are, an article by the Wall Street Journal. (aside: why is this article in the “opinion” section? Does that diminish the factual basis for the article? Shouldn’t it be in the “Health” section?) Obviously, this is the type of article that can put you off your breakfast, especially if you’ve recently been in a doctor’s office. So, to counteract that mental disturbance, In the article sidebar, you’d see something like this:

Click for larger version

Some people will dismiss this with a wave of the haughty hand and a suggestion that it’s somehow beneath journalism to provide links to positive stories. To which I respond: why? If it’s information, why not link to it from disparate places on your web site? Is it a little bit “light”? compared to all the heavy-hitting innovation that’s happening these days? Sure. But why can’t we try some light with the heavy subject matter?

Thoughts?

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