In one of the first interviews I conducted for an assignment about the recession, I remember a shopkeeper saying to me, "You're not going to like me for saying this, but I blame the media." The shopkeeper had seen a steady decline in her sales since the end of summer, and I couldn't blame her for wanting to blame someone for it.
On Tuesday evening this week, I went to a lecture with a panel of several journalists and editors of today's papers such as The Guardian and The Financial Times and Robert Peston, the business editor of the BBC(I love how important that sentence sounds, yes!).
On the panel, was also the publisher of Crane's Business Weekly, Arthur Porter, who tried to convince us that "a salesman is not any different to a journalist". I'm absolutely positive that journalists all over the world would disagree with that notion, not least the one sat next to him on the stage who attempted to hide their smirks and guffaws.
The fact that he was invited to participate in the lecture led me to think about the roll in which the media has played during the past 8 months of the recession. I guess journalists are as hated these days as salesmen. I draw the line at any further comparisons.
Peston seemed distracted, and his replies to questions Kevin Anderson of the
BBC asked, seemed awfully disjointed and hesitant. I had to admit I was a little disappointed, this was not the outspoken Peston I had expected.
At the end of the panel discussion, the floor was invited to ask questions. A lecturer raised his hand in request for the mic. "Do you think the media are to blame for the reporting of the recession either, by panicking the public, or reporting it too late?" The question on the tip of many journalists' tongues.
Peston paused. Again my heart sank. Where was this controversial reporter I had expected so much from? Eventually, he cleared his throat and said, "Ah, unfortunately I'm not able to talk much about that because I'm due in court at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning to give evidence on the issue."
I breathed a sigh of relief. One of the world's best reporters was not being a fence-sitter. He was just not at liberty to discuss anything! The very next morning our lecturer told us that he also had the Chairman of the BBC breathing down his neck the whole duration of the evening lecture.
I learned from the FT today that Peston had been 1 of 5 journalists invited by The Treasury to give evidence about "sparking a run on Northern Rock by reporting its troubles and later failing to break the story early enough".
I would like to comment that by today's standards, no journalist can do right. If journalists had reported a recession, they are blamed for the panic that ensues. If they remain silent, the public are outraged that such important information is withheld from them. What is a journalist to do?
Peston was singled out because his reporting "had caused a run by retail customers on the bank, which was subsequently nationalised" to quote the FT. Was that not just caused by the incompetence of the few fat cat executives at the top? As Peston's argument was yesterday, "What led to the collapse of Northern Rock was not the retail run, it was the wholesale run, it was the institutions refusing to fund that bank."
And that, my friends, is your answer.
Take a deep breath before you begin talking. Aim for the stars. Keep grinning. Be bloody-minded. Argue with the world. And never forget that writing is as close as we get to keeping a hold on the thousand and one things--childhood, certainties, cities, doubts, dreams, instants, phrases, parents, loves--that go on slipping , like sand, through our fingers. - Salman Rushdie
Showing posts with label Credit crunch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Credit crunch. Show all posts
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
Recession, Redundancy, and ... Rethinking.
Any one who has been watching the news the past few days will know that several more companies have gone into administration. In fact, anyone who has walked down a high street in recent months will have been able to see the events of the recession unfolding slowly but surely. For me, it's been like watching a car crash, when you absolutely want to look away but you can't.
I thought that as a student, the "credit crunch" (I hate that term) would hardly affect me. I get a lot of help financially, thankfully, as my mum fully supports furthering my education. I did however still need to keep a weekend job, which my MA allows as I'm only in three days a week, freeing me for plenty of time for independent study and a job.
I walked through Eldon Shopping Centre today in Newcastle, and rows upon rows of shops either had neon "sale/70% off everything" or "closing down, final reductions" signs in the windows.
Whittard's of Chelsea, USC, Zavvi...
I work for a very well known chain of bookshops which announced it had a great turnover during the Xmas holidays. Imagine my surprise when I was called in for a special "national" meeting at 9am on Monday morning, my day off.
"Understand that this is the first I have heard of anything," the manager told the staff as we shifted uncomfortably in our chairs. There was no mention of the fact that he had kept us waiting for 1o minutes for this apparently important meeting to begin.
"There are going to be cutbacks," he continued as he read from a printed off email. I stared at the back of the translucent piece of paper he held in his hands, and it was no longer than four paragraphs. "The company will be letting members of the team go, and those most at threat are the ones who work in goods-in, and returns."
I heard a deep growl to my left, and turned to observe my colleague whose eyes had narrowed at the words. He has worked for the company for four years, while some of the newer staff had only been taken on since before Xmas.
When the manager finished the announcement, the loud silence and oppressive tension made him glance nervously from bookseller to bookseller. "If anyone wants to talk, I'll be in my office."
And that was that.
The sense of fury that flooded over me was not due to the fact that something we had anticipated all weekend since it had been announced we would be having this "special" meeting, had been confirmed. It was the way in which the news had been delivered to us lowly booksellers. The corporation had not even seen it fit to say more than a few paragraphs to the people who kept them in their comfortable office chairs in London, and had mounted the anticipation for a 5 minute brief. On a Monday morning.
I thought about who it would affect the most. Were they asking for voluntary redundancies? How would they decide who to let go?
Do I quit my job then, so that my colleague can feed his family, or my other colleague can pay her mortgage?
Who said that recession doesn't affect students?
I thought that as a student, the "credit crunch" (I hate that term) would hardly affect me. I get a lot of help financially, thankfully, as my mum fully supports furthering my education. I did however still need to keep a weekend job, which my MA allows as I'm only in three days a week, freeing me for plenty of time for independent study and a job.
I walked through Eldon Shopping Centre today in Newcastle, and rows upon rows of shops either had neon "sale/70% off everything" or "closing down, final reductions" signs in the windows.
Whittard's of Chelsea, USC, Zavvi...
I work for a very well known chain of bookshops which announced it had a great turnover during the Xmas holidays. Imagine my surprise when I was called in for a special "national" meeting at 9am on Monday morning, my day off.
"Understand that this is the first I have heard of anything," the manager told the staff as we shifted uncomfortably in our chairs. There was no mention of the fact that he had kept us waiting for 1o minutes for this apparently important meeting to begin.
"There are going to be cutbacks," he continued as he read from a printed off email. I stared at the back of the translucent piece of paper he held in his hands, and it was no longer than four paragraphs. "The company will be letting members of the team go, and those most at threat are the ones who work in goods-in, and returns."
I heard a deep growl to my left, and turned to observe my colleague whose eyes had narrowed at the words. He has worked for the company for four years, while some of the newer staff had only been taken on since before Xmas.
When the manager finished the announcement, the loud silence and oppressive tension made him glance nervously from bookseller to bookseller. "If anyone wants to talk, I'll be in my office."
And that was that.
The sense of fury that flooded over me was not due to the fact that something we had anticipated all weekend since it had been announced we would be having this "special" meeting, had been confirmed. It was the way in which the news had been delivered to us lowly booksellers. The corporation had not even seen it fit to say more than a few paragraphs to the people who kept them in their comfortable office chairs in London, and had mounted the anticipation for a 5 minute brief. On a Monday morning.
I thought about who it would affect the most. Were they asking for voluntary redundancies? How would they decide who to let go?
Do I quit my job then, so that my colleague can feed his family, or my other colleague can pay her mortgage?
Who said that recession doesn't affect students?
Labels:
books,
Credit crunch,
recession,
redundancy
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