The harder sacrifice sometimes required from a journalist in the occasional subjection of his private opinions was fortunately not often demanded under the old system. How far any concessions in opinion to the exigencies of his profession is possible for any journalist is a matter for a man’s own conscience. But custom has always ruled these matters in this country in the spirit of judicious and practical compromise. A wise editor will never be exacting in this respect because in one eventuality he will get bad work, in the other he will either break or lose his instrument. It is usually found that an intelligent sympathy with the general policy of the paper is enough for most conscientious people. There is no humiliation in conceding matters of detail and even here there are compensations, for a subordinate may now and then steal a march on his superiors by committing his journal in the sense of his own opinions on some happy occasion. It is essential that these happy occasions should not occur too often or there may be a sudden parting of the ways opening up to the adventurous writer.
Under the newer newspaper régime, where commercial considerations rule far more than they did under the old family system, this question of a conflict between conscience and economic pressure frequently comes up in a most cruel fashion. When a newspaper passed into the hands of a new proprietor, whose only object in acquiring it was to have the opportunity of changing its politics, all the special writers, whose province covered politics, might be condemned by their sense of honour to go out into the street. This has happened before now, as every newspaper man knows. Lord Morley at a dinner given to Sir Edward Cook dwelt on this precarious feature of the journalist’s life and stated that he himself during a long connection with this calling as writer and editor had never yet seriously advised a young man to adopt it as a career.
There is no doubt that the successful commercialization of journalism during the opening years of the twentieth century has greatly increased the chances of this painful misfortune occurring to a writer in the zenith of his career. There is little distinction now made between newspaper properties and any other, except that their political influence adds some considerable extra value to their market-price. In almost the majority of cases they are owned by limited companies. Their possession does not carry with it the feeling of a public trust; to own one means just so much money and so much power. It is safe to say that, while these pages are being written, not less than four of the London dailies are to be had for an offer, one of which at least is an exceedingly good property in the full course of prosperity. The effect on the life of the journalist and on the type of man, who is now coming into the profession, shows a change for the worse as compared with twenty years ago. The hazardous career now offered attracts a different class of men, more exacting in the way of remuneration, more brilliant and less patient, with none of the specialized devotion to his own institution, which was the peculiar characteristic of the Victorian political writer. At present the newer papers, such as the halfpenny dailies, are living mostly on the supplies of talent left over from the Victorian era with a few newcomers of a more sensational type. But some of these will soon pass away and some will become editors and we shall become altogether dependent on journalists of another kind, one quarter special pleader for any cause and three-quarters descriptive reporter. Education will become a disadvantage and motherwit with a turn for word-spinning will take its place.
To return to the main question of the actual power over opinion exercised by the press I am inclined to think it was at its maximum in this country during the Victorian age. Not only one but three or four prominent journals would guide opinion during a decade, of which the Times stood easily first. Statesmen would take hints from newspapers or privately from journalists. The leading articles every day would be scanned by politicians looking for approval with an eagerness, which is already becoming a thing of the past. Of instances frequent enough and already well-known to the public, it will be sufficient to select only one, the celebrated advice given to Lord Beaconsfield by the late Frederick Greenwood, and acted on by the former with prompt adroitness, to buy the Suez Canal shares for the British Government, advice which ultimately led to our control of Egypt.
The influence of a newspaper on the opinions of its readers is largely a matter of reliance and discretion on the part of those who guide its policy. Of course there is the avowed political partisanship, officially acknowledged and attracting the support of most of its readers for this cause alone. In this respect, however, no paper can claim to influence its readers, because they have formed their own opinions for themselves on the main issues already. The real power of a paper depends chiefly on the skill with which it is kept in the background and the severe economy of its use. Any blatant partisanship on unnecessary occasions begets in the reader the habit of discounting its repetition and of steeling his will in resistance. This is sometimes so strong an automatic habit that many men make a point of reading something of an opposition journal, so as to stiffen their prejudices and give an indignant edge to their own version of patriotism. It is getting truer every day that the lecturing leading article is little appreciated and influence is more effectually exerted by the presentation of news.
This is conspicuously true of the more popular halfpenny journals. These are not all of the same class, as those which once occupied the position of penny morning papers retain many of their old following and are thus encouraged to continue something of the style and of the make-up, which was suited to their narrower circulation. Of the new and frankly commercial press one may say with some confidence, that they have no influence in the old-fashioned sense at all. In all matters of opinion what they say is a matter of indifference. Their function is to supply to those, who already agree with them, a brief and effective setting for obvious facts and sometimes just so much misrepresentation as to make unpalatable facts a little more tolerable. In London it is conspicuous how insignificant their political efforts may be. In the last three elections the most populous parts of London have on the whole voted in the sense contrary to the two or three sensational journals which have the largest circulations in those localities.
With all the merits of these popular journals, and these are very marked in comparison with the halfpenny press of other countries, it is impossible to deny that the recent commercialization of journalism is an irredeemable loss to this country. We have probably in the last twenty years parted silently with an asset of unique value. It was perhaps inevitable and no one need blame themselves or any one else. In fact, the group of successful men, who have rather brilliantly, in one sense, effected this revolution, are not responsible for the circumstances, which made their own victory necessary. One may perhaps grumble at the rather obvious insignificance of the new “replacers.” No personality seems to emerge from among them and one is tempted to conclude that the task they have effectively accomplished was one more suited to Attila than to Napoleon.
The real dominant factors of the modern press and the press of the future are the machine, the telephone and the special train. Production by the million is an exacting master. Instead of three hours for a considered version of facts or opinion, the modern writer is often given fifteen minutes, in which to turn out a smart distortion. The more a man can resemble a Linotype machine the more useful will he be to the paper of to-morrow. He must of course be complicated in organization, his mechanism must be ingenious enough to conceal his mental subordination. But just as the pressing of any key on the composing board brings down always the same letter so will it be required from the brilliant, up-to-date journalist of the millennium, that he must react automatically with the most faithful resemblance to the accuracy of a machine to each stimulus afforded by varying events, popular emotions and the ideas of the market-place.