By Christopher R. Gibbs
That bark from a mid-19th-century street vendor let the public know that breaking news was afoot, and if folks wanted to be in the know, they should immediately flock to the source. By the mid-1930s, radio had become the new hot ticket for breaking news, leaving that street vendor looking for work.
Today, we’re in the midst of yet another information revolution. As that street vendor’s cattle call gave way to the immediacy of radio, that too has been largely replaced by the annoying cell phone buzzing from your purse, pocket, or waist. Call me old-fashioned, but I yearn for the days when I could anticipate that paper carrier riding by on their bike while developing their pitching arm and trying to hit my screen door with that rolled-up newspaper. Oh, the smell of that print and the sound of those pages as they turn. Those were the days.
But the future is here — so we’ll deal with it.
In this digital revolution, where information is instantly accessible at our fingertips, the slow disappearance of local newspapers might sneak up on us and not be seen as a threat. Yet, the decline of print papers carries consequences for our communities here in western Ohio. These tried-and-true institutions have historically played an essential role in our local identity, holding elected officials’ feet to the fire and maintaining an informed community. Their loss results in the erosion of democratic values.
One of the many roles of local print media is to serve as the watchdog of local government and institutions. Your local paper can often be the first to uncover stories of monkey business, inefficiency, or worse. Unlike national outlets, which focus on broader issues, local publications dive into the nitty-gritty details that directly affect the daily lives of you and your neighbors. They cover city council meetings, school board decisions, ditch maintenance, and local elections — topics that are unlikely to capture the attention of larger, digital-first media outlets. Without a dedicated local press that is fully staffed, these local stories risk going untold, leaving citizens in the dark about the decisions that shape their communities.
And here’s where the rubber meets the road for me. The decline of local print media creates an information vacuum filled with misinformation. In communities without a strong local news presence, residents are more likely to rely on social media or partisan-leaning outlets for what they believe is news but is, in fact, infotainment. These platforms thrive on engagement (clicks and likes) and outrage (reposting and escalation) over accuracy. The result is a less informed, more polarized community that not only distrusts their leadership but distrusts their neighbors as well. The risk is that people will stop engaging with critical local issues that affect everyone’s collective welfare.
Local print media also plays a crucial role in maintaining a sense of community and shared identity. Through features on local businesses, profiles of community leaders, and coverage of events, your local newspaper pulls together the stories that make our community unique. They celebrate the achievements of local athletes and provide a platform for events that might otherwise go unnoticed. Who doesn’t want to see their grandkids featured in the newspaper with that prize-winning 4-H project or as a member of that winning sports team?
And then there’s the dollars. The loss of local print media can hurt small businesses that rely on small-town papers for affordable and targeted advertising. Local newspapers have long been a lifeline for small businesses to connect with a local customer base.
One could argue that digital media can fill the gap left by the extinction of classic newsprint. While it’s true that many area papers have embraced online platforms, the economics of digital journalism are not all unicorns and rainbows. Paywalls and subscription models can exclude low-income folk, widening the information gap within our community. On the other hand, print media has traditionally been more accessible and available in libraries, coffee shops, and community centers. Of course, then there’s me, who, before being gifted a Keurig, would drive to the Marathon station early in the morning, buy a coffee, sit at the table, and ‘rent’ the newspaper. When I finished my coffee, I’d fold it neatly and return it to the rack. But I digress — and confess.
The loss of local print media also has implications for civic involvement. Could communities without local newspapers experience lower voter turnout and less civic participation? One could argue that very point. When residents are unaware of local issues, they may be less likely to attend public meetings or contact their elected representatives, which would result in less of an appetite for voting in local elections.
So, what can be done to address this predicament? Support your local paper, whether through subscriptions or purchasing advertising!
But that’s not all. In some communities, innovative business models, such as nonprofit newsrooms or community-owned papers, offer alternatives to the traditional advertising-dependent model. Ultimately, it will require a collective effort.
So, let’s work Extra!, Extra! hard to ensure we can continue to “read all about it.”
~ And that’s the way I see it from where I sit.
Gibbs is a farmer and lives in Maplewood, Ohio. He and his family own and operate 560 acres of crops, hay, and cattle. Gibbs is retired from the United States Department of Agriculture and currently serves as President of the Gateway Arts Council, Chairman of the Shelby County Democratic Party, and President of Rural Voices USA and Rural Voices Network.
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