The slow and inexorable march towards the death of local news continues, but this time, it isn’t newspapers on the chopping block.
No, this time, it’s the medium that was supposed to kill newspapers: radio.
On Thursday, February 8, Bell Media announced it was selling 45 radio stations across the country, including the stations in Fort St. John and Dawson Creek.
Instead of being owned by the 1000 lb (sorry, 440 kg) Canadian media gorilla Bell, Fort Nelson’s Bounce Radio, Fort St. John’s Bounce Radio and Move Radio and Dawson Creek’s CJDC, which doesn’t have a cool one-word descriptor/name are being sold to the 75 kg western media Orangutan Vista Radio. (Okay, fine, they own a couple stations in Ontario, but most of their stations are in BC and Alberta.)
A major media company selling off its assets typically only means one thing: those assets are no longer valuable to the company, but are valuable enough for them to be purchased by smaller companies.
It’s the reverse of media conglomeration, where community newspapers and radio stations and TV stations become valuable enough for a slightly bigger company to buy them, which in turn is bought out by a larger company, who is absorbed by Bell or a company owned by someone with the last name Black.
Of the 45 stations Bell is dumping, Vista Radio is buying 21 of the stations, promising there will be no layoffs or closures.
While the sale hasn’t gone through yet (it’s subject to CRTC approval), I can’t foresee it not happening. CRTC gets edgy when one company owns too much media; this is going the other way.
For those keeping track, Bell Media is still Canada’s largest single owner of radio stations, with 103.
Stingray is the second largest company in Canada, with 101 stations. It’s followed by Rogers at 52 and … well, it used to be Corus, with 39, but if Vista takes on 21 stations, it may surpass Corus.
Like newspapers, there are also a handful of independent stations across the country. According to Wikipedia, there are 13 independent stations in Canada, but I’m going to take that number with a grain of salt, as it fails to mention Peace FM, which was the brainchild of Leo Subulsky, may he rest in peace, and still happily runs out of their worldwide headquarters in Chetwynd.
Back in the day (March 1922, if you want a precise date), radio was predicted to be the death of newsprint.
“Seated comfortably in the club car of the Twenty-first Century Flyer — fast airplane service between London and New York — the president of the Ultra National Bank removes a small rubber disk from his vest pocket and places it over his ear,” says a story in Radio News Magazine (and no, the irony of a story predicting the death of print appearing in a print publication is not lost on me).
“A moment hence,” (the story continues), “he will receive by radiophone the financial news of the world. Simultaneously, millions of other people all over the globe will receive the message. At designated hours, news of a general character will also be received.
“The broadcasting of news by radiophone had long displaced the daily newspaper, and…
“Don’t scoff! The day may be nearer than you suspect. In Hungary, a wire ‘telephone newspaper’ has been successfully conducted for more than 25 years. For nearly a year, financial news direct from the Amsterdam Bourse has been broadcasted by radiophone to 200 banks and brokerage firms in Holland. And within a few months the German Government has installed near Berlin a wireless telephone station for the broadcasting of general news on a regular daily schedule throughout the entire country.”
102 years on, and people are still predicting the death of newspapers. Or print. Or of radio, for that matter, whose death knell first tolled when television took to the airwaves.
And TV? Is soon to die to the internet. Don’t scoff. The day may be nearer than you suspect….
But with all three media also-rans still hanging on, the death of any of them—even newsprint—may still be premature.
Because when faced with changes, media has a nasty habit of changing.
The original newspapers were little more than tabloids, preaching to the political base.
It was only when some crafty ink-stained wretch realized that if they avoided taking a political stance, they could get money from all sides of the political divide that the whole idea of “unbiased reporting” became a thing.
But in the last twenty years or so, as it has become more profitable to wear your political affiliation on your editorial sleeve, newspapers have gone back to being partisan, following the lead of radio and TV.
I for one welcome news that wears its political affiliation on its sleeve. (Here at RidgeLines, we lean heavily in favour of community and kindness and caring for our families, friends and environment. Interpret that as you will.)
As each new medium comes along, the old media does lose parts of what it thought was its God-given rights, but discovers that if it sticks to its knitting, it will survive.
Sure, you’ll hear interviews with Charles Helm on CBC when there’s some big dino discovery, or a TV station might make it up here to cover a major mine opening, but outside of those events, most of what happens in Tumbler Ridge isn’t noticed by any radio or TV station.
No, to borrow a phrase from the late lamented Alaska Highway News, RidgeLines is the only media source to give a tinker’s damn about what’s happening right here in Tumbler Ridge. And we don’t expect any media conglomerations to come knocking on the door anytime soon.
And we wouldn’t have it any other way. (A few more subscribers would be nice, though.)
Trent is the publisher of Tumbler RidgeLines.