Quality vs quantity online

By Felix Salmon
February 12, 2012

At about the same time that Michael Kinsley’s hilarious response to a blog post of mine hit the web, The Atlantic also uploaded to its website Kathleen McAuliffe’s excellent story about how parasites shape our behavior.

McAuliffe’s 5,873-word feature was written for the magazine, and went through multiple layers of commissioning, copy-editing, top-editing, fact-checking, and the like. It’s not, by any means, an easy read; it includes quite a few passages like this.

The neurotransmitter is known to be jacked up in people with schizophrenia—another one of those strange observations about the disease, like its tendency to erode gray matter, that have long puzzled medical researchers. Antipsychotic medicine designed to quell schizophrenic delusions apparently blocks the action of dopamine, which had suggested to Webster that what it might really be doing is thwarting the parasite.

And yet, within 36 hours of being uploaded to the Atlantic’s website, the story had already amassed half a million pageviews — and was “well on its way to becoming the most visited piece ever” in the history of the site, in the words of Alexis Madrigal.

Meanwhile, earlier in the week, Salon editor Kerry Lauerman had revealed some traffic stats of his own:

We ended 2011 on a remarkable high note, with over 7 million unique visitors for the first time, without any giant, viral hits that could be outliers. And now we’ve finished January in similar fashion, at 7.23 million.

There are concrete reasons for this… We’ve — completely against the trend — slowed down our process. We’ve tried to work longer on stories for greater impact, and publish fewer quick-takes that we know you can consume elsewhere. We’re actually publishing, on average, roughly one-third fewer posts on Salon than we were a year ago (from 848 to 572 in December; 943 to 602 in January). So: 33 percent fewer posts; 40 percent greater traffic.

All of which would seem to imply that Kinsley is right, and that there’s something amiss with my more-is-more thesis of online journalism. Have we really — finally — reached the point at which quality is asserting itself in the form of monster pageviews? Especially given the fact that the New York Observer, the subject of my original post, is getting fewer pageviews now than it was in its much more assiduously edited days at the end of 2007.

If we have reached that point — and I hope that we have — it’s a function of the way that the world of the web is moving from search to social. Companies like Demand Media were created to game search — to take what people are genuinely interested in, and then exploit those interests to get undeserved traffic and ad revenues. Gaming social media, by contrast, is much harder: people tend not to share things  they don’t genuinely like.

The one thing that Kinsley got undeniably wrong in his piece was his assertion that I find the “more is more” formula to be “a wonderful development”. I don’t. Yes, I said that the Observer threw out the old and did something brave and new; I also said that I preferred things the way they were before.

What I do find to be a wonderful development is the way in which social discovery engines like Summify and Percolate surface much more relevant and much higher-quality content than search ever did. (Although I do worry, a lot, about the way in which Twitter seems to have bought Summify just to shut it down.) The more that we share stories and use such tools, the better the chance that great content will get an audience commensurate with its quality — even if it doesn’t have a web-friendly headlines like “How Your Cat Is Making You Crazy”.

That said, the downside to publishing subpar content is certainly shrinking. Once upon a time, if you read a bad story in a certain publication, that would color your view of the whole enterprise. That’s no longer the case: in a world where websites are insatiable, there are precious few publications of consistent excellence. As Kinsley says, almost no one achieves good writing most of the time — but once upon a time, editors could and did simply spike material which wasn’t good enough. Nowadays, less-than-great copy tends to get published anyway, since websites have no space constraints and the old excuse about how “we ran out of pages” doesn’t hold water any more.

The real cost of publishing dull content is not that readers will be put off your brand. Instead, it’s an opportunity cost: rather than getting Norman to churn out ill-informed blog posts on ostrich farming and fracking, might it not be better to put him to work honing and editing the work of someone else, helping to create the next viral story about how your cat might be turning  you into a schizophrenic?

The economics, however, still don’t add up. For reasons I don’t fully understand, high-quality edited journalism is not a little but rather a lot more expensive than more-is-more blogging. McAuliffe probably got paid somewhere in the region of $1.50 a word for her piece, which works out at $8,800; by the time you add in the cost of salary and benefits for everybody who worked on it, plus the expenses involved in flying her to Prague to report it, you’re talking enough money to get a thousand blog posts out of Norman. Ex post, McAuliffe’s article is worth it. But it takes a bold cash-strapped publisher indeed (and all publishers are cash-strapped, these days) to choose a single heavily-reported feature over a thousand blog posts.

We still live in a world where the brand value of a venerable print publication has clout on the web. McAuliffe’s piece would never have garnered 500,000 pageviews in 36 hours had she published it on her personal website; instead, it both benefited from and helped to burnish the reputation of the Atlantic more generally. That’s a nice virtuous circle. On the other hand, a boring blog post which would never get attention on a random blog can get a decent four-figure number of pageviews just by dint of being published on the website of a print publication like the New York Times or the New York Observer. As a result, such publications are faced with a constant temptation to put up as much content as they can and monetize those pageviews, even if doing so slowly erodes their brand. Immediate cashflows, these days, tend to trump impossible-to-measure concepts like the degree to which brand value might be going up or down.

My expectation, then, is that we’re likely to see a lot of more-is-more journalism from established names like the Observer, even as the most successful online franchises, such as the Atlantic, increasingly invest in expensive, high-quality content. It’s the difference between managing decline and managing for growth. In an industry which is undoubtedly in secular decline, the former makes a lot of sense. And the latter, if it doesn’t work, can be incredibly expensive.

So while I’m extremely happy to see high-quality journalism reach a very large audience online, I’m far from convinced that we’re about to enter a golden age where publishers get rewarded for spending lots of effort and money on commissioning, editing, and publishing extraordinary content. The web is still a mass medium, and cats-make-you-crazy stories are hard to scale, while commodity content is much easier to replicate. If you want to get to half a million pageviews, you’re always much more likely to get there with a thousand blog posts than you are with a single swing for the fences.


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Less really is more.

Posted by RussAbbott | Report as abusive

We still live in a world where the brand value of a venerable print publication has clout on the web. McAuliffe’s piece would never have garnered 500,000 pageviews in 36 hours had she published it on her personal website; instead, it both benefited from and helped to burnish the reputation of the Atlantic more generally.

Beats me what the Atlantic brand would get more attention than the Economist or Cecil Adams


http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read  /2637/if-cat-poop-is-so-toxic-to-pregna nt-women-why-arent-there-more-birth-defe cts

Posted by vilevile | Report as abusive

Felix, this is a great summary of one of the fundamental dilemmas of publishing. But I would like to question a couple of your implicit assumptions; in short: great content = expensive = rare; poor content = inexpensive = common. While these are often true, I don’t think they’re nearly as universal as your post would have us believe. After all, one of the real values of web publishing is that it gives equal opportunity to the great as well as the poor. People who would not have otherwise published have been doing so, and some of them have some really good things to say.

Another questionable assumption you make is that great content has intrinsic value, and poor content doesn’t. I like to think of myself as reasonably well educated and truly interested in ideas. However, there are many Great Masters I haven’t read, and sometimes I just want to read about the psycho cat, as a diversion.

Posted by Curmudgeon | Report as abusive

There is an additional dynamic which doesn’t get much play…

I suspect that many people read for the comments as much as they do for the articles. Often the people commenting have unique insight. At the very least, they offer a diversity of opinion that no author could hope to encompass.

The Atlantic has a pretty good commenting community (if not as rich as yours, Felix). That, more than the name-value of the publication, draws page views.

Posted by TFF | Report as abusive

Curmudgeon, when i look at what I consider to be the more thoughtful news articles I have read, virtually none of them come from newspapers. As far as I can tell there is a general race to the bottom when it comes to accurate, factually correct reporting with “bad journalism driving out good”. Also when talking about “Great Masters”, Dickens was a serialised novel writer.

TFF, the other great thing this site has – although less than before – is links to original docs.

Posted by Danny_Black | Report as abusive

A case of expensive, low quality content. Lots of reporting, lots of editing. Says nothing, has no point of view, and adds nothing to what we already know.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/12/busine ss/media/the-washington-post-recast-for- a-digital-future.html

Posted by jayrosen | Report as abusive

Didn’t we just read a version of this article a few days ago with regard to art? The Picassos are valued more highly because they simply had higher output and wider distribution?

Posted by Fuddleducker | Report as abusive

jayrosen, you could pretty much say that about anything in the NYT apart from maybe the Dealbreaker site. Would actually say that the NYT tends to lower the average amount of knowledge in the world.

Posted by Danny_Black | Report as abusive

Mr. Salmon is right — and the success of the Atlantic’s assiduously researched cat piece is by no means an indication of any hidden truths about the web, where quantity and SEO rule.

It’s worth noting that the Atlantic makes the bulk of its bread and butter — supporting its 150+ year old magazine and pedigree — by churning out exactly the kind of high-volume, frequently low-quality writing that Mr. Salmon talks about through the Atlantic Wire and to a lesser extent the Atlantic.com. And that the story of parasites and Toxoplasmosis, as vileville pointed out, has been published already at the Economist, and on Radiolab.

Posted by elijahslate | Report as abusive

@Elijah: As someone who writes for The Atlantic, I have to tell you that this statement is factually incorrect: “It’s worth noting that the Atlantic makes the bulk of its bread and butter — supporting its 150+ year old magazine and pedigree — by churning out exactly the kind of high-volume, frequently low-quality writing that Mr. Salmon talks about through the Atlantic Wire and to a lesser extent the Atlantic.com.”

If by “bread and butter,” you mean traffic or revenue. That is just not true But the metrics are a huge arrow pointing to quality. I don’t know about other brands, but that is the only way that it works at The A. I’ve been saying to a lot of journalism kids who come my way that I don’t think journalists are going to escape being judged partially on the numbers, so you have to find a place where the numbers back up what you want to do. Where the brand apparatus, for whatever reason, provides the right kind of amplification for what you want to write.

Is everything we publish a diamond? No, of course not, though that general problem predates the web. (I’ve done a ton of historical research for various projects and I guarantee you that people misremember the golden days of yore in journalism.)

In the year and a half I’ve been at The A, we’ve moved away from precisely the kind of writing you deride. And that trend will only accelerate based on 2011′s numbers. If you were to see the top stories (ranked by unique visitors) for the last 12 months, you’d see a few of things. First, the top is dominated by longer, reported pieces. Second, even stories that look low brow tend to be faux low brow, i.e. a big/funny/webby headline backed up by serious thinking, writing, and/or reporting.

In 2011, we published less per person but higher quality. And we’ve doubled unique users y/y. Our people are taking the right message from these numbers: High volume, churnalism BS gets us nowhere. Quality wins for us.

Last, re: The Wire. That site is a fundamentally a different thing with a different editorial structure geared for speed and breaking news. I like The Wire a lot, but we’re talking about a very different beast that doesn’t purport to not be about speed and breaking news. (It’s called The Wire!)

Posted by AlexisMadrigal | Report as abusive

Oh, also, an update on my prediction: the story is now in second place in the all-time rankings.

Posted by AlexisMadrigal | Report as abusive

“If you want to get to half a million pageviews, you’re always much more likely to get there with a thousand blog posts than you are with a single swing for the fences.”

But why would you like to get so many pageviews? Only if you depend on ads as your main source of revenue. There are other ways to monetize content, especially high quality. Think out of the box also when it comes to earning money online. Ads is not your only option.

Posted by GregGolebiewski | Report as abusive

Content discovery engines will indeed promote quality content. And don’t worry, there are plenty of content discovery engines to take Summify’s place. Percolate is most similar, in that it only delivers daily summaries, but there are also discovery engines that provide a continuous stream of content. These are best for deeper dives into topics.

Perhaps the best known is Zite, which is available only as an iOS app. It is basically a smarter Flipboard. As you thumb articles up and down, it learns what you like. It works very well. If you need to follow specific topics from a computer, I recommend Trapit, the company I work for.

Trapit (http://trap.it/) is like Zite, only it allows you to follow any topic at all. You tell it which topics you want to follow, then it suggests relevant content. Thumb content up and down, and watch the recommendations improve.

I have compiled an overview of discovery engines here:
http://colemanfoley.com/post/17722454460  /discovery-engine-roundup

Posted by ColemanFoley | Report as abusive