You learn something new in this business every day.
Maybe that's why they call it a newspaper.
These are tough days for newspapers. I wrote about that topic in my Monday Letter From the Editor. I explained why this newspaper - and many others - are now charging people to read that content online.
Then I posted the link to the column on Facebook and Twitter, which of course prompted a flood of inquiries from readers who noted the irony of not being able to read a column about why we're now charging people to read content online.
For that reason today I am breaking my own rule. I am posting the entire text of Monday's column on Facebook.
My guess is it will generate a lot of the same snark from people who don't want to pay. But at least they can't say they don't know why we are taking this step.
Here's the content of Monday's column:
I spend entirely too much time online these days.
It goes with the territory. Working online, updating our DelcoTimes.com website, posting on Twitter and Facebook, is now a critical part of the job.
Yes, we still create a print edition every day.
But increasingly, we are becoming online animals.
That brings me into contact with a lot of people, many of whom are asking the same question.
They post it in the comments section of our website. They Tweet about it. They post it on our Facebook page. Man, do they ever post it on Facebook (even on the days when it is down, the way it was for much of the day one day last week).
They want to know why they now have to pay to read stories online.
They demand to know why we post the links to our stories on Facebook if you have to pay to read the full story.
And they don't always say it in the nicest of language.
I've learned something from these people that I didn't realize before. I have something else in common with the newspaper I have spent a lifetime toiling at. We're both apparently a POS, at least according to some disgruntled folks on Facebook.
Don't know what that means? Well, I can't print it in the newspaper. Google it. Ain't this technology fun?
Look, most of the times it's a legitimate question.
Or, more simply put by one Facebook reader recently, 'Why post it then demand money?'
I think I have a legitimate answer.
Because we like to eat. And buy gas for our cars. And pay the rent. And make car payments.
And - most importantly - keep tabs on the people who are spending your money. Your tax dollars.
Nothing in life is free. Why would you expect your news to be?
Let me be direct: Content isn't free. Especially good, unbiased, fact-based content. The kind we strive to present every day. Yes, I am well aware there are no shortage of people who believe we are biased. That forms part of the essential dialog we take part in every day, one we encourage.
Would you routinely eat at a restaurant, then get up and leave without paying the bill?
Would you stand in the Wawa and read the newspaper, then put it down and leave without buying it?
Then why would you expect online content to be free?
Yes, I know there are any number of outlets that still provide their content for free.
We are no longer one of them.
Most of our content now resides behind what we call a paywall.
The newspaper industry is in a fight for its life. The economic model that formed the backbone of more than a century of business based on a print format is broken. Readers, and in many instances advertisers, have moved on. And they're not coming back. At least not to print.
They're now on their laptops. And tablets. And their phones. My goodness, are we ever on our phones.
So are we. That's where our future lies.
But we have to be able to monetize that online content.
It's why more and more outlets are looking to those online models to create revenue, a money stream that pays for the material you read every day.
Each month readers can get five clicks - five stories they can read - for free. That includes the stories we link to on Facebook.
Our online subscriptions are 99 cents for the first month, $10 a month after that.
It's a bargain.
Sometimes I don't think people realize just how much.
Last week was Sunshine Week. It's the week the industry sets aside to celebrate the notion of open records and transparency in government.
There is a unique danger that's inherent in the diminishing - and sometimes entirely disappearing - role of the newspaper.
It has to do with our traditional role of watchdog, keeping tabs on the public's business.
That means your tax dollars. How they're spent. Who gets the contracts. And who does not.
Without any watching the store, funny things start to happen.
And that $10 a month looks like a bargain.
I am convinced that most of the public does not understand what they are in danger of losing, and will not until we are gone. Then it will be too late.
I am hoping that does not happen. You can help by subscribing online or in print.
The Washington Post probably said it best.
Democracy dies in darkness.
And it's getting darker all the time.
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