Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
At lunch today I had a nice chat with a lawyer friend about paying bribes. Now, I'm not about to comment on this issue in China (except to say that, for me at least, it hasn't come up).
But I'll share a bit of my experience in Russia and the former Soviet republics.
Again, I'm not often asked for bribes. When I am, I don't pay them. End of story.
But I've known colleagues who had to pay through the nose for everything. Every single stamp, ticket, piece of paper, or anything else they needed -- the bureaucrat's hand would come out. Even for simple things like hiring drivers or translators, they were forced to pay way above the going rate.
Some dealt with this problem by bargaining hard, others by sending local assistants to negotiate on their behalf. Others just resigned themselves to pulling out their wallets.
And I have other colleagues who are never asked for bribes. Instead, they get favors from bureaucrats -- favors that the bribe-paying guys wouldn't even dream of getting.
What's the difference? In my exprience, the difference comes down to how much they like the people they're dealing with.
Let's talk about Alex, for example. Alex was a freelance television journalist of European origin. Short, balding, funny-looking.
But he genuinely liked the people he met in the war zones. He liked the bureaucrats, he liked the mass murderers, he seemed to like everybody. Occasionally, we would get together socially with the people we were writing about and he would always participate in all the toasts, tell funny stories -- and basically act like he treated everyone like an equal.
Everybody we met wanted to do him favors.
You don't have to be a born salesman to do this, though.
Another colleague, shy and self-effacing, had a "shucks, golly gee, can you help me out here?" vibe coming off of him. And people did help him out. He wouldn't rush up and hug people and pat them on the back, he would hang back shyly, but you could still tell that he liked the people he met.
Imagine you're a big black man on an elevator and you're covered in tattoos and carrying a gun and a tiny white guy in a nice suit gets on. (Those of you who've been there know exactly what I mean.)
If the little white guy cowers and hides in a corner, or puffs himself up, or otherwise acts like he's scared of you and doesn't like you, you're going to be pissed off. If you're nice, you won't show it, but it would be pretty tempting to say "boo!"
But if the little white guy is relaxed, smiles, maybe compliments you on your guy, you'll feel warm and fuzzy towards him.
When American journalists go out and cover wars in third world countries, we're all the little white guy in the elevator. Including those of us who are big and black and covered with tattoos. We can't help it. We've got money, and little notepads, and they've got resentment and lots of guns.
It can be hard to like mass-murderers. And it can be hard to like bureaucrats.
But if you get past the murdering and the paper-shuffling, we're all just human.
Here are some tricks to help bring down those barriers:
* Do something purely social with the bureaucrats.
* Find a personal connection: does one of their kids go to school in the States? Do you know anybody there? Do you have any friends in common? Do you have common interests? Do you like the same movie or music?
* Do you have the same things? Do you hate the weather? Do you hate George Bush? Do you hate athlete's foot? Do you hate your boss?
* If you're single -- maybe they know someone they can introduce you to. If they're single, maybe you can introduce them to someone.
You don't have to do all of these things with every bureaucrat you meet. In fact, you don't have to do any of these things, with any bureaucrat. All you have to do is know that you could, if you wanted to. Making friends -- even once -- will help you change your attitude. You will know that if you made an effor to reach out, that you would see them as human. They will pick up on your attitude.
If your attitude is "I will never think of you as a human being -- you are nothing more to me than a lousy functionary/mass murderer/racial or ethnic stereotype" then you don't get very far.
So when you first arrive in a new country, do your best to get rid of that attitude. Make friends with locals. Make friends with local bureaucrats -- even if not the same ones you'll be dealing with.
Your attitudes will change. You will give off those little, unconscious signals that you see the other guy as an equal, that you think he's okay, that if you got together you might wind up friends.
And that makes all the difference.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
How (not) to write a China article
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post (and comments).
Sinocidal (a.k.a. "Five guys hanging around in China") has a great post today by blogger ChouChou about how to write a China article.
Quick summary:
* Title: China/The Dragon/The East/1.3 Billion People/Red Star + Rises/Century/Awakes/Stirs/Does Dallas
* Interview a taxi driver
* Add in a contrast -- such as a statue of Mao with an ad for Coca-Cola in the background.
* End with a vague conclution about things looking bright -- or remaining unclear -- for either the country or for specific individuals in it. Or combine all of the above like this: “It seems that the future is looking bright for the 1.3 billion people who make up the world’s most populous nation. But for Li *** - who is still working at the condom factory for just two grains of rice a year - that future is still unclear.”
Fellow blogger Mike J. compared it to this McSweeney classic: Create Your Own Thomas Friedman Op-Ed Column.
I agree that there's a lot of formulaic writing out there.
In effect, what I think is happening is that writers are rewriting articles that have already been done, adding in their own color and quotes but without doing the hard work of actually discovering the trends on their own.
Back when newspapers were closed little universes -- their subsribers and only their subscribers saw their articles, and their subscribers didn't see articles from anywhere else -- it made sense for every newspaper to have its own "big picture" story about major news events.
Now, with everything available online all the time, there's no reason for anybody to be writing the same story that, say, the New York Times has already done. Unless they think they can do it better, or take a different angle, or otherwise add value to the discussion.
I believe that more and more news outlets are realizing this and cutting back on their "me, too" coverage -- which reduces the numbers of stories such as those that ChouChou was making fun of.
There are two possible consequences of this: an outlet can cut back on its foreign coverage, or, an outlet can redirect that coverage in a more useful direction.
Too often the former happens.
I personally feel that foreign news is becoming steadily more important to people with globalization, so newspapers should be looking for ways to make foreign coverage more specific, unique, and relevant for their readers.
Say, for example, you're the Springfield Times. You want to do a China story, and have a budget to send a correspondent there. You're afraid that he'll come back with the Sinocidal-style formula piece.
There are lots of ways to localize the China story, and make it useful and relevant for readers. Some examples (these are off the top of my head -- I'm sure there are many others):
* Springfielders adopt babies from China. How does this process work? Where do the babies come from? What are the conflicts and/or trends involved? (Requires visits to the orphanages involved, possibly home villages of the babies, home visits to the new parents, interviews with grown-up adoptees.)
* Springfielders get stuff from China. Poisoned petfood is just one example. Look at an industry important to Springfield and find out how China is changing that industry. If a plant moved to China, visit the new plant. What is it like? How does it compare to the Springfield plant? Are there any problems? Any surprises?
* Springfielders sell stuff to China. Maybe it's their time and expertise (English teachers or lawyers or architects abroad). Or intellectual property like music or books. Or actual physical stuff -- luxury goods, electronic components, medical supplies. Follow them to China and find out how they're used and who buys them.
* Springfielders lose money in China. For example, a company might see its product copied at a lower price. This can even extend to out-right theft, as in the case of software and movies. Springfield companies may even have problems with China-made counterfeit goods. So visit the factories of the counterfeiters -- the victims are usually more than happy to give you directions.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Sinocidal (a.k.a. "Five guys hanging around in China") has a great post today by blogger ChouChou about how to write a China article.
Quick summary:
* Title: China/The Dragon/The East/1.3 Billion People/Red Star + Rises/Century/Awakes/Stirs/Does Dallas
* Interview a taxi driver
* Add in a contrast -- such as a statue of Mao with an ad for Coca-Cola in the background.
* End with a vague conclution about things looking bright -- or remaining unclear -- for either the country or for specific individuals in it. Or combine all of the above like this: “It seems that the future is looking bright for the 1.3 billion people who make up the world’s most populous nation. But for Li *** - who is still working at the condom factory for just two grains of rice a year - that future is still unclear.”
Fellow blogger Mike J. compared it to this McSweeney classic: Create Your Own Thomas Friedman Op-Ed Column.
I agree that there's a lot of formulaic writing out there.
In effect, what I think is happening is that writers are rewriting articles that have already been done, adding in their own color and quotes but without doing the hard work of actually discovering the trends on their own.
Back when newspapers were closed little universes -- their subsribers and only their subscribers saw their articles, and their subscribers didn't see articles from anywhere else -- it made sense for every newspaper to have its own "big picture" story about major news events.
Now, with everything available online all the time, there's no reason for anybody to be writing the same story that, say, the New York Times has already done. Unless they think they can do it better, or take a different angle, or otherwise add value to the discussion.
I believe that more and more news outlets are realizing this and cutting back on their "me, too" coverage -- which reduces the numbers of stories such as those that ChouChou was making fun of.
There are two possible consequences of this: an outlet can cut back on its foreign coverage, or, an outlet can redirect that coverage in a more useful direction.
Too often the former happens.
I personally feel that foreign news is becoming steadily more important to people with globalization, so newspapers should be looking for ways to make foreign coverage more specific, unique, and relevant for their readers.
Say, for example, you're the Springfield Times. You want to do a China story, and have a budget to send a correspondent there. You're afraid that he'll come back with the Sinocidal-style formula piece.
There are lots of ways to localize the China story, and make it useful and relevant for readers. Some examples (these are off the top of my head -- I'm sure there are many others):
* Springfielders adopt babies from China. How does this process work? Where do the babies come from? What are the conflicts and/or trends involved? (Requires visits to the orphanages involved, possibly home villages of the babies, home visits to the new parents, interviews with grown-up adoptees.)
* Springfielders get stuff from China. Poisoned petfood is just one example. Look at an industry important to Springfield and find out how China is changing that industry. If a plant moved to China, visit the new plant. What is it like? How does it compare to the Springfield plant? Are there any problems? Any surprises?
* Springfielders sell stuff to China. Maybe it's their time and expertise (English teachers or lawyers or architects abroad). Or intellectual property like music or books. Or actual physical stuff -- luxury goods, electronic components, medical supplies. Follow them to China and find out how they're used and who buys them.
* Springfielders lose money in China. For example, a company might see its product copied at a lower price. This can even extend to out-right theft, as in the case of software and movies. Springfield companies may even have problems with China-made counterfeit goods. So visit the factories of the counterfeiters -- the victims are usually more than happy to give you directions.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
You don't need to fly around the world to edit for a China pub, or, Reverse outsourcing
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post
There is a shortage of English-language writers and copyeditors in China.
Especially experienced ones. The reason is that expats typically don't stay in China for a long time - it's stressful. They start missing their friends and parents. They want to buy shoes that aren't four sizes too small. They want real pizza. They miss Chinese food. (There's no Chinese food as we know it in China. Unlike India, which is full of Indian food. And Japan, which is full of sushi.)
Also, copyeditors tend to be quiet, meticulous people. They're good at punctuation and AP style. They tend not to hop on a plane and move to China.
The ones who do are the risk-takers, the earth-shakers -- but they often don't have the patience for good copyediting. As a result, China is full of English-language editors who are not really a natural fit for their jobs.
And there are plenty of English-language pubs here that can use a good go-over.
Skills needed:
* The ability to work across time zones, with people you've never met, who have trouble communicating in English.
* Must be patient -- you don't have to clean up the whole paper at once. Just leave it better than when you started. Gradual improvement is the key.
* It helps if you can switch between US and British spelling and grammar.
* It also helps if you're sensitive and willing to teach. Use grammar and usage mistakes as learning opportunities for your writers. They'll be greatful, and your work will get easier as their writing improves. If you're heavy-handed, they might start arguing with you -- and really, you can win a grammar argument with someone on the other side of the world who has his English grammar textbook open in front of him. (Some of the English textbooks used here are just horrible.)
How to get started:
* Do some networking. Volunteer to help edit websites for professional journalism organizations, or copyedit some industry newsletters. Do a long-distance internship or two. Build up a portfolio and a list of contacts.
* Work one-on-one with writers. There are Chinese writers (I personally know at least one) who are writing for US pubs about China and could use some editing help.
Benefits:
* China is growing very fast and needs more and more copyeditors. This is a career that will keep you set for life.
* You work at home, on your own schedule.
* You get to travel to China to meet your writers and bosses, and it's a tax-deductible business expense. Hey, your pubs might even spring for the tickets.
* You'll be part of covering the biggest story on the planet. Without leaving your home.
* You can work around your current job or class schedule or babies or sick parents.
* You can live on a tropical island somewhere and take your laptop to the beach where you work while you sip (virgin) pina coladas.
Look me up.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
There is a shortage of English-language writers and copyeditors in China.
Especially experienced ones. The reason is that expats typically don't stay in China for a long time - it's stressful. They start missing their friends and parents. They want to buy shoes that aren't four sizes too small. They want real pizza. They miss Chinese food. (There's no Chinese food as we know it in China. Unlike India, which is full of Indian food. And Japan, which is full of sushi.)
Also, copyeditors tend to be quiet, meticulous people. They're good at punctuation and AP style. They tend not to hop on a plane and move to China.
The ones who do are the risk-takers, the earth-shakers -- but they often don't have the patience for good copyediting. As a result, China is full of English-language editors who are not really a natural fit for their jobs.
And there are plenty of English-language pubs here that can use a good go-over.
Skills needed:
* The ability to work across time zones, with people you've never met, who have trouble communicating in English.
* Must be patient -- you don't have to clean up the whole paper at once. Just leave it better than when you started. Gradual improvement is the key.
* It helps if you can switch between US and British spelling and grammar.
* It also helps if you're sensitive and willing to teach. Use grammar and usage mistakes as learning opportunities for your writers. They'll be greatful, and your work will get easier as their writing improves. If you're heavy-handed, they might start arguing with you -- and really, you can win a grammar argument with someone on the other side of the world who has his English grammar textbook open in front of him. (Some of the English textbooks used here are just horrible.)
How to get started:
* Do some networking. Volunteer to help edit websites for professional journalism organizations, or copyedit some industry newsletters. Do a long-distance internship or two. Build up a portfolio and a list of contacts.
* Work one-on-one with writers. There are Chinese writers (I personally know at least one) who are writing for US pubs about China and could use some editing help.
Benefits:
* China is growing very fast and needs more and more copyeditors. This is a career that will keep you set for life.
* You work at home, on your own schedule.
* You get to travel to China to meet your writers and bosses, and it's a tax-deductible business expense. Hey, your pubs might even spring for the tickets.
* You'll be part of covering the biggest story on the planet. Without leaving your home.
* You can work around your current job or class schedule or babies or sick parents.
* You can live on a tropical island somewhere and take your laptop to the beach where you work while you sip (virgin) pina coladas.
Look me up.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Monday, May 21, 2007
Email interviews a boon for overseas and foreign reporters
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
I've long thought that email interviews were the lazy man's way of researching a story. You put gother a list of questions, copy and email them to everyone who might potentially be a source -- whoever writes back, you cut-and-paste their answers into your story outline, and you've got the article.
But now it seems that some sources prefer them, too. Check out, for example, this article by Washington Post writer Howard Kurtz: Interviews, Going the Way of the Linotype?
An email interview, even more so than a taped interview, protects both the source and the reporter.
For international journalists, email interviews have a few other advantages, as well.
For example, if you are in the United States, it can be very difficult to call China and some other Asian countries. One of my editors, used to have to get quotes from Asia on a regular basis, and completely gave up trying to do it by telephone.
When I was back in the States last summer and had to do China interviews, it was equally difficult. I tried AT&T among other providers. The calls just woundn't go through, and if they did, the connections were lousy, there were echoes on the line, it was really hard to have a conversation. This is really ironic, since I have no problems calling out of China at all. When I have an interview scheduled with a US-based source, I arrange to make the call. Sometimes, people do insist on calling me -- about 20% the connection is fine. The rest of the time, it's pretty horrible and I have to call them back. When I call out, it's crystal clear 100% of the time (I use CNC IP calling cards, and recommend them highly.) People can't tell that I'm calling from overseas.
But my point was -- email eliminates the problems with bad telephone connections.,
Email also reduces the problems of understanding people's accents. Most non-native English speakers write better than they speak -- and, if they wanted to be absolutely certain about what they said, they can have someone look over their email before they send it out (not to mention running a spell and grammar checker over it). There's no way to do that with a telephone interview.
Email also eliminates the problem of the reporter's accent. Foreign reporters can run their questions through a grammar checker, a colleague, and maybe even past their editors just to be on a safe side. And they'll never hear that annoying, "I'm sorry. I didn't understand the question. I still can't understand you, what did you say?"
Finally, email solves the time lag problem. You send out your quotes during the day, your time. The sources answer them twelve hours later -- during their working hours. You come in to work in the morning, and you've got your answers and can send out follow-up questions.
It's no good for breaking news stories -- but for those you have to stay up all night, anyway, so you might as well make the calls.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
I've long thought that email interviews were the lazy man's way of researching a story. You put gother a list of questions, copy and email them to everyone who might potentially be a source -- whoever writes back, you cut-and-paste their answers into your story outline, and you've got the article.
But now it seems that some sources prefer them, too. Check out, for example, this article by Washington Post writer Howard Kurtz: Interviews, Going the Way of the Linotype?
An email interview, even more so than a taped interview, protects both the source and the reporter.
For international journalists, email interviews have a few other advantages, as well.
For example, if you are in the United States, it can be very difficult to call China and some other Asian countries. One of my editors, used to have to get quotes from Asia on a regular basis, and completely gave up trying to do it by telephone.
When I was back in the States last summer and had to do China interviews, it was equally difficult. I tried AT&T among other providers. The calls just woundn't go through, and if they did, the connections were lousy, there were echoes on the line, it was really hard to have a conversation. This is really ironic, since I have no problems calling out of China at all. When I have an interview scheduled with a US-based source, I arrange to make the call. Sometimes, people do insist on calling me -- about 20% the connection is fine. The rest of the time, it's pretty horrible and I have to call them back. When I call out, it's crystal clear 100% of the time (I use CNC IP calling cards, and recommend them highly.) People can't tell that I'm calling from overseas.
But my point was -- email eliminates the problems with bad telephone connections.,
Email also reduces the problems of understanding people's accents. Most non-native English speakers write better than they speak -- and, if they wanted to be absolutely certain about what they said, they can have someone look over their email before they send it out (not to mention running a spell and grammar checker over it). There's no way to do that with a telephone interview.
Email also eliminates the problem of the reporter's accent. Foreign reporters can run their questions through a grammar checker, a colleague, and maybe even past their editors just to be on a safe side. And they'll never hear that annoying, "I'm sorry. I didn't understand the question. I still can't understand you, what did you say?"
Finally, email solves the time lag problem. You send out your quotes during the day, your time. The sources answer them twelve hours later -- during their working hours. You come in to work in the morning, and you've got your answers and can send out follow-up questions.
It's no good for breaking news stories -- but for those you have to stay up all night, anyway, so you might as well make the calls.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Looking back on the biggest mistakes of my career: Bad record-keeping
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
Since I'm in the process of easing out of being a journalist, and easing into being a business owner, and this is a blog about international journalism, not about entrepreneurship, I'm going to use this forum to look back on my 15-plus years in the field.
Today's mistake: Bad record-keeping
This isn't the biggest mistake I ever made as a journalist. (I'll save the ones that got people killed for a little later on.)
But it is a mistake that bothers me more and more as times goes on. It doesn't bother me a huge amount, but just enough.
For example, I don't know where most of my old sources are now. I kept records on various little scraps of paper, on computer disks that are no longer compatible with computers (and are probably unreadable by now, anyway), and in memo books that are mouldering in miscellaneous attics.
Nobody working today should be making this mistake: keep all your sources in an easy-to-use electronic format, and move them all over whenever you upgrade software. The guy you interviewed ten years ago may have become the CEO of the company - and if you'd kept in touch with him once in a while, you would know that.
And not just sources are lost -- so are former colleagues.
I have a bad memory for names, and have forgotten those of many of the people I've worked with, and who have been influential in my life. I've forgotten the name of the Chicago Tribune international editor who suggested that I go overseas on my own rather than waiting for someone to send me. I forgot the name of the sports editor I worked next to for months in Moscow who has since married and moved to Cleveland. I forgot the last name of Jose, who wrote that fantastic piece about learning to deal with Russian bureaucrats -- not by crying (as a columnist at a competing newspaper suggested) but by learning to vomit at will. Jose, where are you now?
Okay, I went and Googled -- his full name is Jose Alanis. But I still can't figure out where he is now.
But there's even more stuff that I've forgotten. For example, I haven't kept clips of all my published articles and photographs -- some of them have probably disappeared forever. Or stored in a dark archive somewhere forgotten by all.
Some of these are historic photographs, too -- such as the one I took of Manana Gamsakhurdia wailing over the grave of her husband, the first democratically elected president of Georgia (who later became a tyrant, was deposed, launched a civil war, and, before he died under mysterious circumstances, gave me the last media interview of his life).
And I've also lost details of important events in my life. Details that I didn't bother writing about when I was living them that now I really wish I had access to. Someday, I might write a book about my times in the war zones -- or, at the very least, blog posts. I'll have to rely on my memory, and my memory stinks.
Please, young journalists, learn from my mistakes: keep good records. Keep a journal. Take plenty of pictures and store them in formats that will adapt as technology progresses.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Since I'm in the process of easing out of being a journalist, and easing into being a business owner, and this is a blog about international journalism, not about entrepreneurship, I'm going to use this forum to look back on my 15-plus years in the field.
Today's mistake: Bad record-keeping
This isn't the biggest mistake I ever made as a journalist. (I'll save the ones that got people killed for a little later on.)
But it is a mistake that bothers me more and more as times goes on. It doesn't bother me a huge amount, but just enough.
For example, I don't know where most of my old sources are now. I kept records on various little scraps of paper, on computer disks that are no longer compatible with computers (and are probably unreadable by now, anyway), and in memo books that are mouldering in miscellaneous attics.
Nobody working today should be making this mistake: keep all your sources in an easy-to-use electronic format, and move them all over whenever you upgrade software. The guy you interviewed ten years ago may have become the CEO of the company - and if you'd kept in touch with him once in a while, you would know that.
And not just sources are lost -- so are former colleagues.
I have a bad memory for names, and have forgotten those of many of the people I've worked with, and who have been influential in my life. I've forgotten the name of the Chicago Tribune international editor who suggested that I go overseas on my own rather than waiting for someone to send me. I forgot the name of the sports editor I worked next to for months in Moscow who has since married and moved to Cleveland. I forgot the last name of Jose, who wrote that fantastic piece about learning to deal with Russian bureaucrats -- not by crying (as a columnist at a competing newspaper suggested) but by learning to vomit at will. Jose, where are you now?
Okay, I went and Googled -- his full name is Jose Alanis. But I still can't figure out where he is now.
But there's even more stuff that I've forgotten. For example, I haven't kept clips of all my published articles and photographs -- some of them have probably disappeared forever. Or stored in a dark archive somewhere forgotten by all.
Some of these are historic photographs, too -- such as the one I took of Manana Gamsakhurdia wailing over the grave of her husband, the first democratically elected president of Georgia (who later became a tyrant, was deposed, launched a civil war, and, before he died under mysterious circumstances, gave me the last media interview of his life).
And I've also lost details of important events in my life. Details that I didn't bother writing about when I was living them that now I really wish I had access to. Someday, I might write a book about my times in the war zones -- or, at the very least, blog posts. I'll have to rely on my memory, and my memory stinks.
Please, young journalists, learn from my mistakes: keep good records. Keep a journal. Take plenty of pictures and store them in formats that will adapt as technology progresses.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Shanghai Foreign Correspondents Club holds elections
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
Here is our new slate of leaders at the Shanghai Foreign Correspondents Club:
President: Duncan Hewitt (Newsweek)
Vice-President, Events: Ola Wong (Sydsvenska Dagbladet)
Vice-President, Membership: Astrid Freyeisen (ARD German Radio)
Media Representative: Rebecca Catching (that's Shanghai)
Associate Representative: Amy Sommers (Squire Sanders and Dempsey L.L.P.)
Treasurer: Alex Kauffmann (What If!)
As you can see, it's a pretty eclectic, international collection of people. That is a wonderful thing about participating in foreign correspondent clubs -- you meet journalists from all around the world.
For any journalist starting out in their career overseas, I strongly recommend joining such a club and getting involved. Even as a simple go-fer, you'll meet top journalists from the world's best publications, and demonstrate your ability to hustle.
I missed the meeting due to a business conflict, so I'll make up for it by buying people drinks at the weekly beer get-together at Cotton's Bar.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Here is our new slate of leaders at the Shanghai Foreign Correspondents Club:
President: Duncan Hewitt (Newsweek)
Vice-President, Events: Ola Wong (Sydsvenska Dagbladet)
Vice-President, Membership: Astrid Freyeisen (ARD German Radio)
Media Representative: Rebecca Catching (that's Shanghai)
Associate Representative: Amy Sommers (Squire Sanders and Dempsey L.L.P.)
Treasurer: Alex Kauffmann (What If!)
As you can see, it's a pretty eclectic, international collection of people. That is a wonderful thing about participating in foreign correspondent clubs -- you meet journalists from all around the world.
For any journalist starting out in their career overseas, I strongly recommend joining such a club and getting involved. Even as a simple go-fer, you'll meet top journalists from the world's best publications, and demonstrate your ability to hustle.
I missed the meeting due to a business conflict, so I'll make up for it by buying people drinks at the weekly beer get-together at Cotton's Bar.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Both high-end and low-end reporting jobs can be outsourced
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
Low end reporting work: Get press release. Rewrite to AP style. Call the company involved for a follow-up quote. File.
High end reporting work: Research a difficult technical, financial, regulatory, medical or scientific subject. Call a dozen experts or participants. Write an in-depth, analytical story. File.
Both types of work can be done by telephone and Internet. Neither require on-the-ground reporting.
Here in Shanghai, we do cover a lot of Chinese stories. It helps that we have Chinese speakers on staff to read Chinese-language reports and conduct interviews. But we also cover all of Asia-Pacific, especially when it comes to the payments, securities and outsourcing industries. These are specialized fields where subject matter expertise is more important than nation of origin.
But, more than that, we also cover US and European finance and technology stories, using writers in China and India.
Part of it is the fact that, for specialized stories, geographical boundaries are meaningless. For example, even when I was reporting from the US, I often quoted technology users at brokerage companies in Europe and Asia, even when the vendors themselves were based in the United States. And the experiences of those users are more and more like those of users in US offices. If a bank in Japan, for example, has a problem with a particular online banking platform, banks in the US will probably have the same issues. (Except in cases where local conditions, such as double-character fonts, are at fault.)
The other part is that once you can talk to a bank or a brokerage in Japan or Korea or Australia or Germany, you can talk to a bank anywhere. If you've figured out what service oriented architectures are all about, you can use that knowledge in any story. A background in chemistry or medicine can help you tackle these specialized stories in any geography.
Finally, many stories no longer have a particular geography associated with them. For example, for a story about a particular company's plans for China, we might talk to their China managers and customers. We would also talk to senior executives in the United States, and experts and analysts in both countries.
These days more and more stories fall into the latter category as entire industries become globalized overnight.
Add to that the fact that executives rarely sit in one spot anymore -- they're flying all over the planet.
It's happened to me more than once this past year:
I call a US company to set up an interview with executives. The PR person organizes the call. I get up in the middle of the night to call in. During introductions, I explain that I'm calling in from Shanghai. Then the vice president explains that he's calling in from India. And the other senior exec is calling in from Japan. The only one on the call for whom it's the middle of the day is the low-level PR person organizing it. (Much hilarity and embarrassment for the PR person ensues.)
So it comes down to experience. Does the reporter know the industry? Know the technology? Have the financial or scientific background to tackle the story?
The same things are important as with US-based reporters: How many years have they been covering the industry? Have they written articles on similar topics? Do they have an educational background that prepares them for the work?
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Low end reporting work: Get press release. Rewrite to AP style. Call the company involved for a follow-up quote. File.
High end reporting work: Research a difficult technical, financial, regulatory, medical or scientific subject. Call a dozen experts or participants. Write an in-depth, analytical story. File.
Both types of work can be done by telephone and Internet. Neither require on-the-ground reporting.
Here in Shanghai, we do cover a lot of Chinese stories. It helps that we have Chinese speakers on staff to read Chinese-language reports and conduct interviews. But we also cover all of Asia-Pacific, especially when it comes to the payments, securities and outsourcing industries. These are specialized fields where subject matter expertise is more important than nation of origin.
But, more than that, we also cover US and European finance and technology stories, using writers in China and India.
Part of it is the fact that, for specialized stories, geographical boundaries are meaningless. For example, even when I was reporting from the US, I often quoted technology users at brokerage companies in Europe and Asia, even when the vendors themselves were based in the United States. And the experiences of those users are more and more like those of users in US offices. If a bank in Japan, for example, has a problem with a particular online banking platform, banks in the US will probably have the same issues. (Except in cases where local conditions, such as double-character fonts, are at fault.)
The other part is that once you can talk to a bank or a brokerage in Japan or Korea or Australia or Germany, you can talk to a bank anywhere. If you've figured out what service oriented architectures are all about, you can use that knowledge in any story. A background in chemistry or medicine can help you tackle these specialized stories in any geography.
Finally, many stories no longer have a particular geography associated with them. For example, for a story about a particular company's plans for China, we might talk to their China managers and customers. We would also talk to senior executives in the United States, and experts and analysts in both countries.
These days more and more stories fall into the latter category as entire industries become globalized overnight.
Add to that the fact that executives rarely sit in one spot anymore -- they're flying all over the planet.
It's happened to me more than once this past year:
I call a US company to set up an interview with executives. The PR person organizes the call. I get up in the middle of the night to call in. During introductions, I explain that I'm calling in from Shanghai. Then the vice president explains that he's calling in from India. And the other senior exec is calling in from Japan. The only one on the call for whom it's the middle of the day is the low-level PR person organizing it. (Much hilarity and embarrassment for the PR person ensues.)
So it comes down to experience. Does the reporter know the industry? Know the technology? Have the financial or scientific background to tackle the story?
The same things are important as with US-based reporters: How many years have they been covering the industry? Have they written articles on similar topics? Do they have an educational background that prepares them for the work?
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Monday, May 14, 2007
I don't think I'm a foreign correspondent anymore
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post (and comments).
Today, I finally realized that I'm not a journalist anymore. Just now, about five minutes ago.
Great thing about keeping a blog -- years later, I'll be able to look up the exact moment at which my 15-year run as a journalist ended.
This weekend, I received my third offer this year to buy out my company.
Tomorrow, I have a choice between attending the annual meeting of the Foreign Correspondents Club and a business meeting --and I picked the business meeting.
On Saturday, I had lunch with a friend who told me that when he first came to Shanghai, he had all kinds of friends -- but the only friends he's got now are entrepreneurs. He was talking about the fact that entrepreneurs get tied to China by their companies, while everyone else leaves. But what he was also saying is that your friends determine who you are.
All my close friends now run companies. When I first came to Shanghai, all my friends were journalists. I'm not close to them anymore, but not because they left China. Some did, but others are still around.
It feels a little like someone died. Or, more accurately, like high school graduation.
I love journalism. I had a lot of different jobs before I became a reporter. They were all fun -- when work was good. But most of the time, work was just work, and the jobs were excruciating. I couldn't quit them fast enough. Reporting was the only work that was fun even when at its worst.
Pretty much any day over these past fifteen years I could have said -- and often did say -- "I can't believe I'm getting paid to do this."
It's been a fantastic run.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Today, I finally realized that I'm not a journalist anymore. Just now, about five minutes ago.
Great thing about keeping a blog -- years later, I'll be able to look up the exact moment at which my 15-year run as a journalist ended.
This weekend, I received my third offer this year to buy out my company.
Tomorrow, I have a choice between attending the annual meeting of the Foreign Correspondents Club and a business meeting --and I picked the business meeting.
On Saturday, I had lunch with a friend who told me that when he first came to Shanghai, he had all kinds of friends -- but the only friends he's got now are entrepreneurs. He was talking about the fact that entrepreneurs get tied to China by their companies, while everyone else leaves. But what he was also saying is that your friends determine who you are.
All my close friends now run companies. When I first came to Shanghai, all my friends were journalists. I'm not close to them anymore, but not because they left China. Some did, but others are still around.
It feels a little like someone died. Or, more accurately, like high school graduation.
I love journalism. I had a lot of different jobs before I became a reporter. They were all fun -- when work was good. But most of the time, work was just work, and the jobs were excruciating. I couldn't quit them fast enough. Reporting was the only work that was fun even when at its worst.
Pretty much any day over these past fifteen years I could have said -- and often did say -- "I can't believe I'm getting paid to do this."
It's been a fantastic run.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Sunday, May 13, 2007
How to get people in China to talk on the record
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post (and comments).
The most common question I get from new hires -- and other reporters new to China - is how to get people to talk on the record.
Here's a typical example:
Assignment: are Chinese furniture manufacturers looking to buy US distributors in order to get customers, marketing and sales?
Easy peasy, right? There are millions of Chinese furniture manufacturers (more or less) and this is not exactly a sensitive investigative story.
Solution: I put together a list of questions -- are you? why? how is it working out? what's next for you? -- and put the first writer on the job. After a week of "no comments" she quit the job. Not a single quote.
I handed the list of question to two other writers. Another week passed. A week full of telephone calls -- and not a single quote.
Here is what I heard from my researchers (and I've heard the same from many other writers in China):
"People in China don't like to talk on the record."
"People in China don't like to speak to foreign reporters."
"People in China don't like to speak to Chinese reporters."
"People in China don't like to talk to strangers on the telephone."
I couldn't ask the questions myself -- my Chinese is minimal and while in the financial and tech industries pleenty of people speak in English, in the furniture industry, not so much.
So I picked up the phone. I got a list of Chinese furniture companies online from Alibaba.com, and started calling the contact people listed.
Typical conversation:
"Hello. I am American journalists. I want talk. You have don't have person speaks English?"
First company: passed me along to a sales assistant. I asked my questions. I got my answers.
Second company: asked me to email questions. They got answers right back to me.
Third company: after the first two broken Chinese phrases from me, I passed the phone to the researcher for the rest of the questions.
End of day: 10 for 10.
What was the difference? It wasn't that I was a foreigner -- plenty of foreigners have problems getting people to talk on the record. It certainly wasn't that my communication skills were that great.
It is a different of attitude. If your attitude is that people will talk, then people will talk. If your attitude is that people won't talk, then people won't talk.
In our office, we have a heavy emphasis on sourcing. We require three different on-the-record sources for every 500 words of story, as a general guideline. One source affected by the news (or user, or buyer), one source making the news (or the vendor), and one expert or analyst.
If you make enough phone calls, somebody is going to talk to you.
The trick is defining "enough."
"Enough" does not mean "enough phone calls so that the boss knows you tried."
"Enough" means "enough phone calls to get a quote."
If it's the first definition of enough, then you can keep calling until you're blue and you still won't have a quote. If it's the second definition, then that attitude is passed along to the person on the other side of the line, and you're going to strike payload very quickly.
One thing I love about employees who are new to reporting is that they don't know yet that "people in China don't like to talk." They can get lots of quotes.
And once you get enough people in the office working on the assumption that everybody will talk - well, all of a sudden, everybody starts talking.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
The most common question I get from new hires -- and other reporters new to China - is how to get people to talk on the record.
Here's a typical example:
Assignment: are Chinese furniture manufacturers looking to buy US distributors in order to get customers, marketing and sales?
Easy peasy, right? There are millions of Chinese furniture manufacturers (more or less) and this is not exactly a sensitive investigative story.
Solution: I put together a list of questions -- are you? why? how is it working out? what's next for you? -- and put the first writer on the job. After a week of "no comments" she quit the job. Not a single quote.
I handed the list of question to two other writers. Another week passed. A week full of telephone calls -- and not a single quote.
Here is what I heard from my researchers (and I've heard the same from many other writers in China):
"People in China don't like to talk on the record."
"People in China don't like to speak to foreign reporters."
"People in China don't like to speak to Chinese reporters."
"People in China don't like to talk to strangers on the telephone."
I couldn't ask the questions myself -- my Chinese is minimal and while in the financial and tech industries pleenty of people speak in English, in the furniture industry, not so much.
So I picked up the phone. I got a list of Chinese furniture companies online from Alibaba.com, and started calling the contact people listed.
Typical conversation:
"Hello. I am American journalists. I want talk. You have don't have person speaks English?"
First company: passed me along to a sales assistant. I asked my questions. I got my answers.
Second company: asked me to email questions. They got answers right back to me.
Third company: after the first two broken Chinese phrases from me, I passed the phone to the researcher for the rest of the questions.
End of day: 10 for 10.
What was the difference? It wasn't that I was a foreigner -- plenty of foreigners have problems getting people to talk on the record. It certainly wasn't that my communication skills were that great.
It is a different of attitude. If your attitude is that people will talk, then people will talk. If your attitude is that people won't talk, then people won't talk.
In our office, we have a heavy emphasis on sourcing. We require three different on-the-record sources for every 500 words of story, as a general guideline. One source affected by the news (or user, or buyer), one source making the news (or the vendor), and one expert or analyst.
If you make enough phone calls, somebody is going to talk to you.
The trick is defining "enough."
"Enough" does not mean "enough phone calls so that the boss knows you tried."
"Enough" means "enough phone calls to get a quote."
If it's the first definition of enough, then you can keep calling until you're blue and you still won't have a quote. If it's the second definition, then that attitude is passed along to the person on the other side of the line, and you're going to strike payload very quickly.
One thing I love about employees who are new to reporting is that they don't know yet that "people in China don't like to talk." They can get lots of quotes.
And once you get enough people in the office working on the assumption that everybody will talk - well, all of a sudden, everybody starts talking.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Friday, May 11, 2007
Complaining about pay rates for freelance reporting and photography
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
Last night at our regular drinking get-together at Cotton's Bar, about half-a-dozen of us expat journalists got together and complained about falling rates. Well, we also had a furious argument about whether the Economist was a real news magazine or not (my take: it tries to be, but I would give a grade of "F" because of its lack of sourcing, attribution, bylines, no error corrections, and total lack of readability).
It seems that photo journalists are in a worse boat than even us print reporters. Our rates for freelance pieces haven't budget for the last fifty years. According to the National Writers Union, top rates for national magazines in the United States were about $1.00 per word in the 1950s -- and still are.
This despite the fact that $1.00 buys a lot less now than it did back then.
For photo journalists, the rates haven't just stayed the same as costs have gone up -- they've actually dropped.
I think there are two forces at work:
1. More and more people are willing to do stuff for low pay or for free. As society gets richer, people have more time to devote to hobbies -- after work or on weekends and holidays, for example. In addition, you've got students, housewives and househusbands, retirees, and people supported by trust funds, parent, spouses, government grants, and foundations.
These people, who are looking for self-expression, tend to focus their time on artistic endeavors. Unfortunately for us working stiffs, this often includes journalism and photography.
For those of us looking to make a career at this, the best bet is areas that people don't want to write about for free. For example:
Kittens: People will write about for free.
Latest advances in veterinary billing practices: Not so much.
Politics: Oh, yeah. Everybody's got an opinion.
Financial technology: Just watch their eyes glaze over.
Relationships: Everybody thinks they're an expert.
Numbers: Nobody wants to write about things involving statistics. Good money here.
Consumer tech: Everybody has an iPod and an opinion about Microsoft.
Enterprise tech: Not too many people want to write about business mainframes.
There are two key differentiators between the first category of topics and the second.
The first differentiator is how appealing a topic is. Is it fun to write about? Do many people have opinions? Is it easy to get information?
The second differentiator is barriers to entry. In order to start writing about television, for example, you just have to watch some TV. In order to start writing about actuarial analysis models in the insurance industry, you have to learn something about actuarial analysis, maybe take some statistics courses, or at least get some related articles under your belt. It takes time to get into this beat. You have to start out by getting some training, attending some conferences, reading some books and subscribing to the industry journals. Then you'll have to ease your way into it, writing articles that are more and more technical. As your articles get more technical, however, you'll find that your word rates go up, and the number of competitors goes down.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Last night at our regular drinking get-together at Cotton's Bar, about half-a-dozen of us expat journalists got together and complained about falling rates. Well, we also had a furious argument about whether the Economist was a real news magazine or not (my take: it tries to be, but I would give a grade of "F" because of its lack of sourcing, attribution, bylines, no error corrections, and total lack of readability).
It seems that photo journalists are in a worse boat than even us print reporters. Our rates for freelance pieces haven't budget for the last fifty years. According to the National Writers Union, top rates for national magazines in the United States were about $1.00 per word in the 1950s -- and still are.
This despite the fact that $1.00 buys a lot less now than it did back then.
For photo journalists, the rates haven't just stayed the same as costs have gone up -- they've actually dropped.
I think there are two forces at work:
1. More and more people are willing to do stuff for low pay or for free. As society gets richer, people have more time to devote to hobbies -- after work or on weekends and holidays, for example. In addition, you've got students, housewives and househusbands, retirees, and people supported by trust funds, parent, spouses, government grants, and foundations.
These people, who are looking for self-expression, tend to focus their time on artistic endeavors. Unfortunately for us working stiffs, this often includes journalism and photography.
For those of us looking to make a career at this, the best bet is areas that people don't want to write about for free. For example:
Kittens: People will write about for free.
Latest advances in veterinary billing practices: Not so much.
Politics: Oh, yeah. Everybody's got an opinion.
Financial technology: Just watch their eyes glaze over.
Relationships: Everybody thinks they're an expert.
Numbers: Nobody wants to write about things involving statistics. Good money here.
Consumer tech: Everybody has an iPod and an opinion about Microsoft.
Enterprise tech: Not too many people want to write about business mainframes.
There are two key differentiators between the first category of topics and the second.
The first differentiator is how appealing a topic is. Is it fun to write about? Do many people have opinions? Is it easy to get information?
The second differentiator is barriers to entry. In order to start writing about television, for example, you just have to watch some TV. In order to start writing about actuarial analysis models in the insurance industry, you have to learn something about actuarial analysis, maybe take some statistics courses, or at least get some related articles under your belt. It takes time to get into this beat. You have to start out by getting some training, attending some conferences, reading some books and subscribing to the industry journals. Then you'll have to ease your way into it, writing articles that are more and more technical. As your articles get more technical, however, you'll find that your word rates go up, and the number of competitors goes down.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Hiring American reporters versus Chinese and Indian
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post (and comments).
I've managed journalists from pretty much everywhere -- the US, Britain, Germany, France, Russia, Central Asia, and, now, India and China.
In my experience, the differences between individual reporters far outweight the differences between countries. In otherwords, I've worked with some really really bad American writers, and some really good Chinese ones - and vice versa.
But there are some general differences.
WRITING ABILITY
Sometimes -- but not always -- the American writers have more experience with business reporting, or, at least, know what a news story is supposed to look like as a result of having seen a lot of them.
The only difference I can actually point to is in writing style -- native English speakers produce stories that are more readable and more grammatically correct than non-native speakers.
In the first category I would put the Ameicans, the Canadians, the Indians, and (yeah, okay) the Brits (funny spelling be damned).
In the second are the Russians and the Chinese and the assorted Europeans.
JOB SKILLS
The more experienced someone is, and the more jobs they've held before, the happier, in general, I'm going to be with their work.
In the United States, kids get their first jobs at 12 (paper routes) or 14 (other jobs). They have part-time jobs through high school, to get money for junk food or clothes, to save up for college, or to buy a car. During college, US students hold work study jobs during the school year and full-time internships during the summers.
By the time and American graduates from college they'll have held at least two jobs -- often many many more, if you add in temp jobs.
I probably held a couple of dozen jobs by the time I graduated from college. I would sign up with temp agencies during short breaks or between other jobs, and did something different every semester and every summer. That adds up quickly. I've worked as a programmer, as a teacher, as waitress, as a circus roustabout, as an envelope stuffer, as a typesetter, as a receptionist, as a bear, as a book editor, as a newsletter editor, and, of course, as a newspaper reporter.
Then there's the volunteer work for my high school paper and for the literary journal.
I don't list all these jobs on my resume -- I don't want people to think I'm a total nutjob. But I'm probably typical. After all, young people don't know what they want to do, they change their minds, they have dramatic episodes and quit perfectly good jobs, they run away and join the circus, and so on.
But after you go through all this, you pretty much know what you want to do. And you know what you have to put up with in order to be able to do it. You know how long it takes you to do things. You know which jobs you shouldn't take, and you know the conditions under which you just cannot work.
By comparison, I've had several employees who had never held a job at all before coming to me. And they weren't all Chinese, but most were.
They didn't know what they wanted to do. How they worked. They didn't know what kind of behavior was expected, and what was inappropriate.
One assistant answered the phone by telling the caller that I was in the bathroom. Then didn't take a message. My employees routinely take off without warning -- then reappear again, just as mysteriously. They have problems with girlfriends and boyfriends, problems with coming to work on time, problems meeting deadlines, and problems scheduling their work.
But it's not clear-cut. Three of my freelance writers are middle-aged American men who still don't know what they want to do with their lives. All three are veteran journalists with impressive resumes, but still have problems with deadlines, scheduling, and organization. (If you're reading this and think I'm writing about you -- it's not. It's somebody else.)
So you can't make assumptions. You can't say: "I'll only hire Americans because they do a good job." Or: "Chinese employees don't know how to act in a workplace."
Some of my Chinese hires, with no previous experience at all, have taken to their jobs easily and quickly, working independently and aggressively.
So it's all down to individual people. As is everything.
ATTRITION
The biggest difference between expat and local hires, in my opinion, is attrition rates. In Shanghai, turnover is high for every nationality, every job category, every company. For expat hires, however, the problems are magnified significantly.
By definition, expats in Shanghai aren't at home -- and eventually, they'll want to go home, for the sake of theirkids, spouses, parents, or just basic home-sickness. There are some permanent expats, but they're few on the ground -- especially in Shanghai, which is not exactly the most livable fo cities.
Expats also have more opportunities. On principle, everyone I hire is part of the same wage structure -- their salaries are based on their value to the company. This means that, for the most part, I pay expat employees the same as Indian and Chinese employees.
Many foreign companies, however, pay expat employees American salaries (plus expat packages, in some cases).
As my company grows and I need more and more senior and experienced people, I expect our salaries to rise as well. But I expect that, for expat hires, my company will be a training ground rather than a destination for quite a long time.
By comparison, for local salaries, our company's wages are pretty competitive. Combine that with a decent working environment, flexible hours, bylines in American magazines, and the work looks pretty good for the long term.
I have some Chinese employees who have been with the company for a while and I expect that some of them will stay for a long time. They represent the company's institutional memory and our work ethic and culture. They are the heart of the company and I hope to see their numbers increase with time.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
I've managed journalists from pretty much everywhere -- the US, Britain, Germany, France, Russia, Central Asia, and, now, India and China.
In my experience, the differences between individual reporters far outweight the differences between countries. In otherwords, I've worked with some really really bad American writers, and some really good Chinese ones - and vice versa.
But there are some general differences.
WRITING ABILITY
Sometimes -- but not always -- the American writers have more experience with business reporting, or, at least, know what a news story is supposed to look like as a result of having seen a lot of them.
The only difference I can actually point to is in writing style -- native English speakers produce stories that are more readable and more grammatically correct than non-native speakers.
In the first category I would put the Ameicans, the Canadians, the Indians, and (yeah, okay) the Brits (funny spelling be damned).
In the second are the Russians and the Chinese and the assorted Europeans.
JOB SKILLS
The more experienced someone is, and the more jobs they've held before, the happier, in general, I'm going to be with their work.
In the United States, kids get their first jobs at 12 (paper routes) or 14 (other jobs). They have part-time jobs through high school, to get money for junk food or clothes, to save up for college, or to buy a car. During college, US students hold work study jobs during the school year and full-time internships during the summers.
By the time and American graduates from college they'll have held at least two jobs -- often many many more, if you add in temp jobs.
I probably held a couple of dozen jobs by the time I graduated from college. I would sign up with temp agencies during short breaks or between other jobs, and did something different every semester and every summer. That adds up quickly. I've worked as a programmer, as a teacher, as waitress, as a circus roustabout, as an envelope stuffer, as a typesetter, as a receptionist, as a bear, as a book editor, as a newsletter editor, and, of course, as a newspaper reporter.
Then there's the volunteer work for my high school paper and for the literary journal.
I don't list all these jobs on my resume -- I don't want people to think I'm a total nutjob. But I'm probably typical. After all, young people don't know what they want to do, they change their minds, they have dramatic episodes and quit perfectly good jobs, they run away and join the circus, and so on.
But after you go through all this, you pretty much know what you want to do. And you know what you have to put up with in order to be able to do it. You know how long it takes you to do things. You know which jobs you shouldn't take, and you know the conditions under which you just cannot work.
By comparison, I've had several employees who had never held a job at all before coming to me. And they weren't all Chinese, but most were.
They didn't know what they wanted to do. How they worked. They didn't know what kind of behavior was expected, and what was inappropriate.
One assistant answered the phone by telling the caller that I was in the bathroom. Then didn't take a message. My employees routinely take off without warning -- then reappear again, just as mysteriously. They have problems with girlfriends and boyfriends, problems with coming to work on time, problems meeting deadlines, and problems scheduling their work.
But it's not clear-cut. Three of my freelance writers are middle-aged American men who still don't know what they want to do with their lives. All three are veteran journalists with impressive resumes, but still have problems with deadlines, scheduling, and organization. (If you're reading this and think I'm writing about you -- it's not. It's somebody else.)
So you can't make assumptions. You can't say: "I'll only hire Americans because they do a good job." Or: "Chinese employees don't know how to act in a workplace."
Some of my Chinese hires, with no previous experience at all, have taken to their jobs easily and quickly, working independently and aggressively.
So it's all down to individual people. As is everything.
ATTRITION
The biggest difference between expat and local hires, in my opinion, is attrition rates. In Shanghai, turnover is high for every nationality, every job category, every company. For expat hires, however, the problems are magnified significantly.
By definition, expats in Shanghai aren't at home -- and eventually, they'll want to go home, for the sake of theirkids, spouses, parents, or just basic home-sickness. There are some permanent expats, but they're few on the ground -- especially in Shanghai, which is not exactly the most livable fo cities.
Expats also have more opportunities. On principle, everyone I hire is part of the same wage structure -- their salaries are based on their value to the company. This means that, for the most part, I pay expat employees the same as Indian and Chinese employees.
Many foreign companies, however, pay expat employees American salaries (plus expat packages, in some cases).
As my company grows and I need more and more senior and experienced people, I expect our salaries to rise as well. But I expect that, for expat hires, my company will be a training ground rather than a destination for quite a long time.
By comparison, for local salaries, our company's wages are pretty competitive. Combine that with a decent working environment, flexible hours, bylines in American magazines, and the work looks pretty good for the long term.
I have some Chinese employees who have been with the company for a while and I expect that some of them will stay for a long time. They represent the company's institutional memory and our work ethic and culture. They are the heart of the company and I hope to see their numbers increase with time.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
I'm not the only one looking to hire from India
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
The AP ran this story yesterday -- Calif. Web site outsources reporting -- about a California online newspaper hiring reporters in India to cover local news in Pasadena.
Here's a writeup of the story from Journalism.co.uk: Local news reporting outsourced to India.
Blogger Billy Dennis at Peoria Pundits says this is a "sign of the apocalypse."
As usual, I'm divided on the issue. On the one hand, as an American journalist, I know that the employment situation in the US is already bad enough for reporters. This isn't going to make things any better.
But, on the other hand, too much reporting in the US is already done by telephone and email, by new kids fresh out of college who don't know much about the communities they cover.
So why not give the jobs to kids in India? They'll work harder, for less money, appreciate the jobs more, and stay longer -- maybe even long enough to get to know the community (at least, in a remote and virtual way). They probably need the jobs more than we do, too, supporting a large extended family, often sending money to rural areas where people still live a subsistence life and those meager dollars can lift a family out of poverty, send young siblings to college, keep an elderly parent healthy and fed.
(I just returned from a trip to India, where I visited one of these villages after touring a bunch of tech outsourcing companies.Whoa.)
And it's not that we don't have jobs in the US. We have plenty of jobs -- just not the jobs that we journalists may want. Despite all the outsourcing, the employment rate in the US stays low. Our economy is chugging along. (And, I expect, will for a long time.)
But I'm an optimist. And, also, I'm an immigrant. I don't see any moral superiority in keeping jobs in the US.
For those who do, I say: get out of the office. Meet your readers and your sources in person. Turn your job into one that can't be outsourced to someone on the other side of the planet.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
The AP ran this story yesterday -- Calif. Web site outsources reporting -- about a California online newspaper hiring reporters in India to cover local news in Pasadena.
Here's a writeup of the story from Journalism.co.uk: Local news reporting outsourced to India.
Blogger Billy Dennis at Peoria Pundits says this is a "sign of the apocalypse."
As usual, I'm divided on the issue. On the one hand, as an American journalist, I know that the employment situation in the US is already bad enough for reporters. This isn't going to make things any better.
But, on the other hand, too much reporting in the US is already done by telephone and email, by new kids fresh out of college who don't know much about the communities they cover.
So why not give the jobs to kids in India? They'll work harder, for less money, appreciate the jobs more, and stay longer -- maybe even long enough to get to know the community (at least, in a remote and virtual way). They probably need the jobs more than we do, too, supporting a large extended family, often sending money to rural areas where people still live a subsistence life and those meager dollars can lift a family out of poverty, send young siblings to college, keep an elderly parent healthy and fed.
(I just returned from a trip to India, where I visited one of these villages after touring a bunch of tech outsourcing companies.Whoa.)
And it's not that we don't have jobs in the US. We have plenty of jobs -- just not the jobs that we journalists may want. Despite all the outsourcing, the employment rate in the US stays low. Our economy is chugging along. (And, I expect, will for a long time.)
But I'm an optimist. And, also, I'm an immigrant. I don't see any moral superiority in keeping jobs in the US.
For those who do, I say: get out of the office. Meet your readers and your sources in person. Turn your job into one that can't be outsourced to someone on the other side of the planet.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Thursday, May 10, 2007
If you're looking for a job, please don't ask me for an 'informational interview'
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
I interviewed a man for a job today who was Canadian-born Chinese, with decent Chinese skills and some decent journalism experience for city magazines here in China, and a business degree as well.
A perfect candidate -- employers should be falling all over themselves to offer him jobs.
But it took me a while to figure out he was job hunting - in his initial contact with me, he kind of beat around the bush and said he was just calling for "information."
Apparently, someone gave him some bad advice about setting up informational interviews.
Now, I have nothing against informational interviews. If someone calls me up because they want to know what a job in journalism is like, no problem. I'll take time to talk to them.
And if someone wants to interview me about my company -- sure, I could use some press.
And I love job seekers. Here in Shanghai, turnover is the single biggest problem for every manager and we're all recruiting, all the time. I never pass up a chance to meet with a job seeker, unless they're completely and obviously wrong for the job (say, a conflict of interest) in which case I steer them in some other direction.
But someone who beats around the bush -- that doesn't make me happy. It feels like they're wasting my time. I found out that this guy was job hunting pretty quickly, though, when he sent me his resume -- and I immediately invited him over for lunch.
But another person called yesterday requesting an "informational interview about my company." What the hell is that? Did she want to profile us for a story? No. did she want to know what it was like to work as a journalist? Probably not. She introduced herself as a working journalist. Was she looking for a job? I asked her right out, and she said no.
Was she too shy to say she was job hunting? Well, the last thing I need in my office is shy reporters.
Come on, guys. I'm hiring. Everyone in Shanghai is hiring. And if they're not, they'll be hiring in a month, when all their current staffers quit. We're seeing astronomical growth rates here.
If you're looking for a job, say so. I'm happy to hear from you. I'll even buy you lunch, or take you out for drinks. Seriously. And if you're good and you're willing to work cheap, I'll find something for you to do even if I don't happen to have a job opening right this moment. (Who wouldn't?)
I don't mind if you only stay for a short time -- I've gotten used to the turnover issues. It's just a fact of life in Shanghai.
So a few people have been using my company to find out whether they want to be journalists or not, or to learn how to write business stories for US publications before striking off on their own. That's fine. A couple of people have gone on to PR, and another is planning to. That's fine, too.
My basic point is that you don't have to lie to me when looking for a job. If you are a reasonable fit for the work -- if you'll do a good job for me at a pay rate that makes you good for the company, then I'll hire you.
My personal philosophy is that if you can't be honest with a future boss, then you're probably not going to be happy working for them.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
I interviewed a man for a job today who was Canadian-born Chinese, with decent Chinese skills and some decent journalism experience for city magazines here in China, and a business degree as well.
A perfect candidate -- employers should be falling all over themselves to offer him jobs.
But it took me a while to figure out he was job hunting - in his initial contact with me, he kind of beat around the bush and said he was just calling for "information."
Apparently, someone gave him some bad advice about setting up informational interviews.
Now, I have nothing against informational interviews. If someone calls me up because they want to know what a job in journalism is like, no problem. I'll take time to talk to them.
And if someone wants to interview me about my company -- sure, I could use some press.
And I love job seekers. Here in Shanghai, turnover is the single biggest problem for every manager and we're all recruiting, all the time. I never pass up a chance to meet with a job seeker, unless they're completely and obviously wrong for the job (say, a conflict of interest) in which case I steer them in some other direction.
But someone who beats around the bush -- that doesn't make me happy. It feels like they're wasting my time. I found out that this guy was job hunting pretty quickly, though, when he sent me his resume -- and I immediately invited him over for lunch.
But another person called yesterday requesting an "informational interview about my company." What the hell is that? Did she want to profile us for a story? No. did she want to know what it was like to work as a journalist? Probably not. She introduced herself as a working journalist. Was she looking for a job? I asked her right out, and she said no.
Was she too shy to say she was job hunting? Well, the last thing I need in my office is shy reporters.
Come on, guys. I'm hiring. Everyone in Shanghai is hiring. And if they're not, they'll be hiring in a month, when all their current staffers quit. We're seeing astronomical growth rates here.
If you're looking for a job, say so. I'm happy to hear from you. I'll even buy you lunch, or take you out for drinks. Seriously. And if you're good and you're willing to work cheap, I'll find something for you to do even if I don't happen to have a job opening right this moment. (Who wouldn't?)
I don't mind if you only stay for a short time -- I've gotten used to the turnover issues. It's just a fact of life in Shanghai.
So a few people have been using my company to find out whether they want to be journalists or not, or to learn how to write business stories for US publications before striking off on their own. That's fine. A couple of people have gone on to PR, and another is planning to. That's fine, too.
My basic point is that you don't have to lie to me when looking for a job. If you are a reasonable fit for the work -- if you'll do a good job for me at a pay rate that makes you good for the company, then I'll hire you.
My personal philosophy is that if you can't be honest with a future boss, then you're probably not going to be happy working for them.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Why I love IDG
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
The great thing about journalism is that I get to tell the truth. I regularly tell people who don't believe me about instances when editors backed me up, even if it meant upsetting a source or advertiser. I haven't had a single story spiked due to advertising pressures in all my years as a reporter.
I like to think that this is because I've worked for some pretty good publications.
One example is this week's brou-ha-ha at PCWorld, another IDG pub. The editor in chief wanted to run a column unflattering to an advertiser (Apple). The CEO of the company didn't. When push came to shove, the editor stood his ground, and the CEO got the boot.
Disclaimer: I worked at IDG's Computerworld for a year at the turn of the century, and have done some occasional writing for several IDG publications since then (and still do).
Here's a nice overview from CNET.
Here's the online discussion board at PC World, where readers wrote in horrified about the firing.
Here is PCWorld's own story, and here's the story that caused the flap to begin with: 10 Things We Hate About Apple.
It's things like this that make me very, very happy to be a journalist.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
The great thing about journalism is that I get to tell the truth. I regularly tell people who don't believe me about instances when editors backed me up, even if it meant upsetting a source or advertiser. I haven't had a single story spiked due to advertising pressures in all my years as a reporter.
I like to think that this is because I've worked for some pretty good publications.
One example is this week's brou-ha-ha at PCWorld, another IDG pub. The editor in chief wanted to run a column unflattering to an advertiser (Apple). The CEO of the company didn't. When push came to shove, the editor stood his ground, and the CEO got the boot.
Disclaimer: I worked at IDG's Computerworld for a year at the turn of the century, and have done some occasional writing for several IDG publications since then (and still do).
Here's a nice overview from CNET.
Here's the online discussion board at PC World, where readers wrote in horrified about the firing.
Here is PCWorld's own story, and here's the story that caused the flap to begin with: 10 Things We Hate About Apple.
It's things like this that make me very, very happy to be a journalist.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Fake Chinese reporter makes $500,000 from bribes -- and gets life
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
The Associated Press ran an interesting story yesterday about a Chinese crook who passed himself off as a reporter or editor from the People's Daily. Usually these kinds of bribes are for running favorable stories, or not running stories that are not so favorable.
In this case, though, the guy said that he could use his influence with top officials -- the People's Daily is the main publication of the Communist Party of China -- to get people promotions.
But what I would like to see is the names of the people who tried to bribe this guy. Will they be seeing any jail time?
I would also want to know how he got caught. Did people complain? Did they call the newspaper to check whether he was a real reporter? Or did they get suspicous when their promotions didn't come thorugh?
I'm also surprised he kept going. You would think it would be easy to get lost in China -- 1.3 billion people, all of them surnamed Wang or Chen. With half a million US dollars, that's a lot of fake identity papers you could buy.
The guy must have been really good to pull in this much money, too. I wonder how many other fake reporters are out there, pulling in the big bucks with these kind of scams.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
The Associated Press ran an interesting story yesterday about a Chinese crook who passed himself off as a reporter or editor from the People's Daily. Usually these kinds of bribes are for running favorable stories, or not running stories that are not so favorable.
In this case, though, the guy said that he could use his influence with top officials -- the People's Daily is the main publication of the Communist Party of China -- to get people promotions.
But what I would like to see is the names of the people who tried to bribe this guy. Will they be seeing any jail time?
I would also want to know how he got caught. Did people complain? Did they call the newspaper to check whether he was a real reporter? Or did they get suspicous when their promotions didn't come thorugh?
I'm also surprised he kept going. You would think it would be easy to get lost in China -- 1.3 billion people, all of them surnamed Wang or Chen. With half a million US dollars, that's a lot of fake identity papers you could buy.
The guy must have been really good to pull in this much money, too. I wonder how many other fake reporters are out there, pulling in the big bucks with these kind of scams.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Journalism career planning: moving from editorial to publishing
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post (and comments).
There are three possible stages in a journalist's career, and each transition is very painful and difficult.
The first stage is that of the reporter. You are responsible for your own work, and nobody else's. Occasionally you work as part of a team, or use a researcher or other assistant. But you're most often on your own. The goal is to report and write the best possible story within the constraints of your publication's editorial guidelines.
If you stay a reporter, your career moves include switching to a better beat, or moving to a larger media outlet. You can also write books, give speeches, or appear as a guest on television programs.
Except for the rare star, your salary options are pretty limited.
Those who become frustrated with not being able to achieve the status they're looking for, or get tired of the stress or not making enough money to live on, often switch to public relations or teching.
The next stage is editing.
Editors move from copy editing, to editing specific sections, to being managing editor, then to editor in chief. Editors can also move from smaller markets to larger or more prestigious or better-paying ones.
Except for copy editing, these are mostly management positions. You assign stories, train writers and other editors, deal with schedules and financial budgets.
Writers who switch to being editors are often very sad to give up the craft of writing, and may return. Some keep their hand in by writing editorials and occasional columns -- the productive approach. Others deals with it unproductively, insisting on rewriting their writers' stories the way they would have done it, even if it doesn't make the product any better.
Editors are also not on the front lines of journalism, and may miss the rush and excitement of covering big stories, and may resent their reporters.
Editors are also invisible -- they rarely get awards or write books about their experiences or get interviewed on television. They don't see their names on top of articles, just in the mastheads, which nobody ever reads.
Finally, when journalists become editors, they lose the camaraderie of the reporting craft. In the "us against them" world of journalism, editors are the ones who spike stories, make unnecessary changes, deny travel requests -- pretty much everything bad that happens to reporters comes from editors. (Or seems to.)
As a result of all of this, leaving reporting for editing is an emotionally difficult decision. Many editors were never reporters, going into editing straight out of college. They probably make the best editors -- they picked this career to start with, and they have few or no regrets about not writing.
I'm currently in the process of making this transition, and I do have to say that I like editing better than reporting. I love reporting and am good at it, but I'm certainly not better than all my writers put together, and I very much enjoy the process of producing something much larger than what I could do alone.
Reporters who make the transition within an existing organizational framework get support -- other editors to lean on, maybe even classes and other kinds of organized training.
When you run a foreign bureau, these resources are usually not available, unfortunately.
The last phase of a journalism career is publishing. Typically, publishers are hired from the ad sales side, and occasioally from distribution. It's rare that an editor makes the move to publisher.
Publishers need to be able to raise money -- either from advertising, from circulation, or from donations. these are not skills that editors have. In fact, editors are generally kept deliberately isolated from the business side of operations. And for good reason. But it makes for a very difficult transition.
When Nation editor Victor Navarsky made the move to publisher, he took a business class at Harvard Business School to help deal with ths. (You can read more about this in Staying power, a piece in the Guardian that ran in 2005.)
An MBA wouldn't hurt either, according to ASBPE's Reinventing your publishing career.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
There are three possible stages in a journalist's career, and each transition is very painful and difficult.
The first stage is that of the reporter. You are responsible for your own work, and nobody else's. Occasionally you work as part of a team, or use a researcher or other assistant. But you're most often on your own. The goal is to report and write the best possible story within the constraints of your publication's editorial guidelines.
If you stay a reporter, your career moves include switching to a better beat, or moving to a larger media outlet. You can also write books, give speeches, or appear as a guest on television programs.
Except for the rare star, your salary options are pretty limited.
Those who become frustrated with not being able to achieve the status they're looking for, or get tired of the stress or not making enough money to live on, often switch to public relations or teching.
The next stage is editing.
Editors move from copy editing, to editing specific sections, to being managing editor, then to editor in chief. Editors can also move from smaller markets to larger or more prestigious or better-paying ones.
Except for copy editing, these are mostly management positions. You assign stories, train writers and other editors, deal with schedules and financial budgets.
Writers who switch to being editors are often very sad to give up the craft of writing, and may return. Some keep their hand in by writing editorials and occasional columns -- the productive approach. Others deals with it unproductively, insisting on rewriting their writers' stories the way they would have done it, even if it doesn't make the product any better.
Editors are also not on the front lines of journalism, and may miss the rush and excitement of covering big stories, and may resent their reporters.
Editors are also invisible -- they rarely get awards or write books about their experiences or get interviewed on television. They don't see their names on top of articles, just in the mastheads, which nobody ever reads.
Finally, when journalists become editors, they lose the camaraderie of the reporting craft. In the "us against them" world of journalism, editors are the ones who spike stories, make unnecessary changes, deny travel requests -- pretty much everything bad that happens to reporters comes from editors. (Or seems to.)
As a result of all of this, leaving reporting for editing is an emotionally difficult decision. Many editors were never reporters, going into editing straight out of college. They probably make the best editors -- they picked this career to start with, and they have few or no regrets about not writing.
I'm currently in the process of making this transition, and I do have to say that I like editing better than reporting. I love reporting and am good at it, but I'm certainly not better than all my writers put together, and I very much enjoy the process of producing something much larger than what I could do alone.
Reporters who make the transition within an existing organizational framework get support -- other editors to lean on, maybe even classes and other kinds of organized training.
When you run a foreign bureau, these resources are usually not available, unfortunately.
The last phase of a journalism career is publishing. Typically, publishers are hired from the ad sales side, and occasioally from distribution. It's rare that an editor makes the move to publisher.
Publishers need to be able to raise money -- either from advertising, from circulation, or from donations. these are not skills that editors have. In fact, editors are generally kept deliberately isolated from the business side of operations. And for good reason. But it makes for a very difficult transition.
When Nation editor Victor Navarsky made the move to publisher, he took a business class at Harvard Business School to help deal with ths. (You can read more about this in Staying power, a piece in the Guardian that ran in 2005.)
An MBA wouldn't hurt either, according to ASBPE's Reinventing your publishing career.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Back from vacation, and back on the job
Note: This blog post also ran in the Society of Professional Journalism's "Journalism and the World" blog. Click here to see the original post.
I just got back from vacation yesterday, after a week spent on a beach on Hong Kong's Lantau Island.
Well, it was a vacation for my kids, at least. I spent some of my time reporting and writing articles about stock exchanges and alternative trading systems in Asia.
Ironically, given the fact that the Hong Kong Internet system is generally much better than that in China, I could not visit many sites from my hotel, including the SPJ's blog posting pages (which is why I haven't posted anything in a week). I also couldn't read Dilbert or Doonesbury.
The hotel's Internet security system wouldn't even let me proxy around it -- and I tried hard. I really wanted to get my daily Dilbert fix.
Nothing else seemed to have been affected -- I guess my hotel had a very effective but very weird firewall.
But except for the hotel-specific Internet problems, and my distance from my staff, it occurred to me how easy it would have been to just stay on the island. Lantau Island is one of the least populated parts of Hong Kong, but only a half-hour ferry ride right into Hong Kong central, at a cost of about US $2.50. The telephones are great, the weather is perfect, the scenery is spectacular.
I can easily do the bulk of my work there. And there's a pretty decent Italian restaurant next to the ferry landing, and a Turkish place that seems to be a favorite expat hangout, as well as two grocery stores and a very nice English bookstore that sells both new and used books.
If anyone is interested in becoming a financial technology journalist who lives on a beautiful tropical island, drop me a line. I can give you some advice.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
I just got back from vacation yesterday, after a week spent on a beach on Hong Kong's Lantau Island.
Well, it was a vacation for my kids, at least. I spent some of my time reporting and writing articles about stock exchanges and alternative trading systems in Asia.
Ironically, given the fact that the Hong Kong Internet system is generally much better than that in China, I could not visit many sites from my hotel, including the SPJ's blog posting pages (which is why I haven't posted anything in a week). I also couldn't read Dilbert or Doonesbury.
The hotel's Internet security system wouldn't even let me proxy around it -- and I tried hard. I really wanted to get my daily Dilbert fix.
Nothing else seemed to have been affected -- I guess my hotel had a very effective but very weird firewall.
But except for the hotel-specific Internet problems, and my distance from my staff, it occurred to me how easy it would have been to just stay on the island. Lantau Island is one of the least populated parts of Hong Kong, but only a half-hour ferry ride right into Hong Kong central, at a cost of about US $2.50. The telephones are great, the weather is perfect, the scenery is spectacular.
I can easily do the bulk of my work there. And there's a pretty decent Italian restaurant next to the ferry landing, and a Turkish place that seems to be a favorite expat hangout, as well as two grocery stores and a very nice English bookstore that sells both new and used books.
If anyone is interested in becoming a financial technology journalist who lives on a beautiful tropical island, drop me a line. I can give you some advice.
Signing off in Shanghai,
Maria
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