I’ve been following the fate of the British newspaper The Daily Telegraph over the past weeks.
The 168-year-old publication is at a crossroads. Its owners, the billionaire Barclay family, agreed to sell the newspaper to RedBird IMI, a media venture company headed by Jeff Zucker, the former president of CNN. The financial backing comes from Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed al Nahyan, who is vice president of the United Arab Emirates and a member of the royal family of Abu Dhabi.
Quite a few British politicians, particularly conservative ones, hate the idea. Some have proposed legislation blocking any foreign government from buying a media outlet. Others have said Britain’s longstanding freedom of the press is on the line.
The British government last week delayed a decision to approve or deny the deal. So the saga continues, much to the frustration of The Daily Telegraph’s editorial staff, who on Tuesday published an editorial both critical of the proposed deal and firm in their call for a quick resolution.
Hyperbole aside, there’s something true about the stakes. The Daily Telegraph is a British institution. It’s the Conservative paper. Its motto is “Was, is and will be.” And as much as RedBird IMI swears Abu Dhabi’s royal family will be passive investors, it’s hard to imagine that being true.
We know it’s not the case with Rupert Murdoch’s relationship with The London Times. And on this side of the pond, it’s becoming clear that Dr. Soon-Shiong, the billionaire owner of the Los Angeles Times, got so involved in newsroom decisions that the esteemed editor Kevin Merida saw no other route other than his resignation.
And we can only pray for the Baltimore Sun, which was recently purchased by Sinclair’s David Smith. The same guy who called print media “meaningless dribble” and who confessed that he hasn’t read the paper in 40 years is now in charge of a newsroom that’s won 16 Pulitzer Prizes.
ALL THESE twists and turns make me wonder what a newspaper and its ownership mean to its community. Why is The Daily Telegraph generating so much debate?
In a country where soccer rivals religion, England has had no problem selling its beloved teams to foreign governments. Manchester City is already owned by the Abu Dhabi royal family; the Saudi sovereign wealth fund bough Newcastle United. Sheffield United is owned by a Saudi prince. Chelsea Football Club used to belong to one of Putin’s best friends.
So why is a newspaper different? Why do the risks feel so much greater? Of course, it’s the worry that lines will be blurred, stories buried, editorials unwritten. It’s the fear of censorship. A lack of information. Democracy withers without all the facts.
But I’d argue there’s something deeper as well, something about identity and psychology. Bigger than a favorite team. It’s about stitching together a narrative of who we are, of what matters to us. That’s what a newspaper does. And that’s what seems at risk with the wrong owner. We’ll lose the story of who we are.
Now do I wish Jeff Bezos would call tomorrow offering to purchase the Register and inject a couple million dollars? Oh sure. Kind of. But as the New York Times wrote earlier this week, even the Amazon founder hasn’t been able to crack the code and turn the Washington Post into a cash cow.
Maybe there isn’t a secret code. Maybe it’s just good reporting, pounding the pavement, shaking hands and sharing coffee. We won’t get rich off it, not like those royals. But these days, trust in local media and a vibrant civic society are worth more than gold. Or oil.
