The Huffington Post Lessons
Instead, I would remind the established media for the second time that the Huffington Post is trying to teach it a lesson: That a huge, previously ignored readership out there wants its news hot, quick, and tight. At any point in HuffPo's astonishing rise, the Washington Post, the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, or any dozen other media companies could have strangled it in its crib by producing an equally entertaining and edifying pop-news Web site that drew on the Associated Press wire, licensed photo banks, its own stories, and, yes, rewrites of other sites' content.
Publications have been rewriting other publication's stories since the dawn of journalism. Time magazine made a business out of blatantly rewriting daily newspaper stories for a national weekly audience in the 1920s. "We don't pretend to be reporters at Time. We are rewrite men," a top Time staffer once told a group of his editors. Nobody had ever done news hotter, quicker, or tighter before Time magazine. Time founders Henry R. Luce and Briton Hadden understood that some readers didn't have time for the self-indulgent news and features newspapers specialized in, or they preferred a weekly take of the news over a daily one, or their local newspaper stunk and they wanted a more worldly view of the news. Some readers must have grown to love Time's backward-running sentences and neologisms, famously sent up by The New Yorker's Wolcott Gibbs.
It's not just civilians demanding a quicker take on the news. Listen to Nicholas Confessore, the New York Times' superb Albany reporter. He just told the Atlantic Wire—a very energetic aggregator, by the way—that what he'd "kill for is a newsletter that only sent me five or six stories a day, in total, from everywhere. The stories that were the most essential reading, that really tell you something you don't know about politics."
It's not that big newspaper companies don't know that their fat newspapers don't appeal to everybody. For instance, the New York Times produces a 10-page daily "synopsis" of the newspaper called Times Digest, which reaches a claimed readership of 190,000 at hotels, resorts, sports clubs, cruise ships, and elsewhere. My 2007 piece about Times Digest praised its succinctness. The Washington Post Co. (which owns Slate) recently started a news-aggregation site, Trove, which combines human and automated aggregation.
Slate was one of the original aggregators with its "Today's Papers" feature, which ran from June 1997 until August 2009 and digested the top newspapers (New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today) in the wee a.m. for readers curious about how the news played in different publications. Slate has since replaced "Today's Papers" with a more universal exercise in aggregation, The Slatest. It gathers news from all corners of the Web in real time, and its writers post up to a dozen items daily. Readers love The Slatest; it's one of the most popular parts of the site.
No discussion of aggregation is complete without a mention of the granddaddy, the Drudge Report, which provides a better moment-by-moment news view than the home pages of any daily newspaper, any cable news network, hell, any page anywhere, especially the impossible-to-navigate Huffington Post home page. Inordinately proud of their own work, newspapers and cable news networks tend to lard their home pages with copy produced in their own shops—which isn't the same as keeping readers up on the news. It's hard to accept that 15 years into the commercial Web era, newspaper websites still look and feel so much like newspaper websites.
Dumenco and the rest of us should continue to shame the Huffington Post whenever it exceeds fair use, but again, that's drawing the wrong lesson from the HuffPo catechism. The site doesn't succeed because it shoplifts—which it has been known to do—it succeeds because it's so good at borrowing, generating original content, recruiting an army of free bloggers, building slide-show porn, and generally giving the masses what they want.