A Sad Day For the American Newspaper

For 21 of my 35 years in daily journalism, I toiled in Philadelphia for a newspaper owned by Knight Ridder, the second largest U.S. newspaper chain. Insofar as major media companies go, I couldn't have done much better. KR was dedicated to doing whatever it took, including putting its money where its corporate mouth was, in order to publish first-rate newspapers. Its two Philadelphia papers -- which share the same building but were and still are fiercely competitive -- won a combined 15 or so Pulitzer Prizes during the 1980s.

But in the late 1990s, a seismic shift began. KR moved its headquarters from Miami to San Jose to "be closer to the Internet," as Tony Ridder, its chairman, infamously put it. KR's focus strayed from the quality of its product to the price of its stock. An era of layoffs and cutbacks, as well as buyouts that bled its papers of their best talent, commenced. The result was a company so weakened and with a stock price so lethargic that it had no choice but to put itself up for sale.

KR's self-inflicted wounds were made worse by trends in the marketplace. Fewer Americans read newspapers with every passing year; even fewer young people ever get into the habit of reading them. The Internet arrived with a bang and newspapers were slow to embrace it as news and advertising mediums. Only in recent months have many newspapers even begun to publish their own blogs.

In another sign of the weakness of Knight Ridder and the newspaper industry in general, KR attracted only one bidder, the significantly smaller McClatchy Company, which stuck a $4.5 billion deal for KR over the weekend. McClatchy says that it will keep 20 of KR's papers, but will sell 12 others -- including the Philadelphia Inquirer and Daily News -- because they're in stagnant markets. That may make good business sense, but it doesn't say much about McClatcy's commitment over the long haul.

Newspaper editors and reporters are a hard bitten lot. We learn to check our feelings at the door. But for this ink-stained wretch, it is a sad day for the daily newspaper, and no more so than in Philadelphia.