10 years of comments: the inside story on Crikey’s readers

If we’re celebrating Crikey’s 10th birthday, it’s probably more than fair to celebrate the people that make Crikey what it is — our readers.

Every edition of Crikey since its inception has contained a significant contribution by Crikey’s readers — whether as an item, a tip, a media brief or most notably in Crikey‘s “Comments, corrections, clarifications and c*ckups” section.

When Crikey started in 2000, the comments section (then called “Yoursay”) was a weekly feature on the website that was linked to in the daily Crikey sealed section.

Crikey founder Stephen Mayne recollected that the Yoursay section of Crikey was largely looked after by  interns in the early days — such as Nick McKenzie, now an Age investigative reporter, who looked after YourSay for a few weeks when he was an intern at Crikey in 2002. If the task didn’t come down to interns, Mayne would compile the correspondence himself.

Mayne strongly believed in the right of reply (and he certainly received a few!) and the Yoursay section began to blossom.

Kate Jackson took over the comments section in 2002 when she and Ben Shearman began as Stephen’s first editorial staff.

“I recall there were a lot of ‘crazy’ people writing in — or perhaps they are just the ones I remember?” Jackson recalled.

“The prospect defamation was always a concern and with one law suit already hanging over Stephen’s head, I had to be mindful not to publish anything which would get him into any more trouble.”

When Crikey was purchased by Private Media in 2005, Crikey‘s new publisher Eric Beecher wanted to introduce Yoursay into the daily Crikey email, renaming it “Comments, corrections, clarifications and c*ckups” and from there it’s become a much loved portion of Crikey.

And it’s Crikey‘s readers — its letter (email)  writers — that make it what it is. So this week I asked a few of them why they write letters to Crikey and why they’ve been doing so for so long.

Niall Clugston, a Crikey subscriber since 2002, said that he writes to Crikey because “where else would I have the privilege to be inaccurately berated by Derryn Hinch? Or accurately berated by Mark Latham?”

Jim Hart told Crikey that he enjoyed “…the sense of contributing to a dialogue among people who by and large are probably reading Crikey for similar reasons, though not necessarily with similar opinions.”

And Jenny Morris told me that “…commenting is a way of connecting — with Crikey, your writers and other readers.”

In contrast, David Hand told me he’s become a grumpy old man and writing letters to the media is what grumpy old men do and that he writes to Crikey because “…Keane, Sparrow, Rundle et al write with a predictable red-tinged focus that begs for a balancing view.”

Then there are the issues that have grown a life of their own. Notably, the ongoing climate change debate, spearheaded by climate change sceptic Tamas Calderwood.

I asked Tamas why he continues to write to Crikey (often after getting a bashing at the hands of other readers).

“Why bother writing to a journal whose readers would just nod sagely at my oh-so-true scribbles? Boring…  I want a debate and that’s what I get in Crikey.”

“It makes me happy. I mean, who wouldn’t be happy when they can assure everyone that the world isn’t about to explode after all?  Sure, sure — it upsets the enviro-doom, de-industrialisation crowd. But they enjoy being miserable anyway so ironically enough it’s win-win.”

And who could forget The Burchett Chronicles?

In a sign of the times, long time Crikey reader and commenter Alan Kennedy said he liked the egalitarian feel to the Crikey postings, but “while it is great getting a run on Crikey, the biggest buzz of all is when First Dog replies to one of your tweets.”

But often it’s not what they say but how that say it.

So the last word goes to Crikey reader Bev Kilsby, who had us smiling whenever she emailed us. I’d often label her contributions as “thought of the day” — this was from November 2008:

Who knows what is ahead concerning the planet, but it’s an amazing work of science and faith, and I love meditating on its greatness, and having fun about the clouds. As to who is going to win the flag in the AFL. At this stage I think Geelong, but who really knows what’s ahead for us? Why get so anxious, it’s only a game, but I guess wealth and money for some.

*Apologies and thanks to Bruce Graham, Moira Smith, Venise Alstergren, Denise Marcos, Andrew Lewis, Christian Kent, Peter Lloyd, Justin Templer, Julian Gillespie, John Goldbaum, John Kotsopoulos, Cathy Bannister, Trevor Best, Jim Hart, Humphrey Hollins, Michael Byrne, Gabriel McGrath and Tony Barrell. I asked them to contribute and they all did, which says a lot about our readers. You can read all the responses we received below.

CRIKEY: The below responses are from a group of Crikey readers who have been subscribers to Crikey for years and are among our most prolific writers to Crikey. Last week I asked them simply, “Why do you write to Crikey?”

These are the answers I received:

Andrew Lewis writes: Well the ancient history to it revolves around the fact that I did a bit of travel in my 20s and in the many spare moments would write long letters to friends, family etc and ultimately realised in the process that I had developed my own “voice”, which although a seemingly wanky phrase was a good description.

I continued that over the years, and a friend wrote into the SMH letters page and got published. That surprised me, I always thought getting a letter published would be akin to lottery odds. I started doing the same and initially I got an outrageously high hit and miss ratio, in that something like 10 of my first 20 letters were published. Ego developed, the ever increasing need to see my words published. Equally though, I knew I had something to say, I knew that I could bring a different perspective to an issue and I was always happy to put my thoughts out there to see if they would be challenged. They rarely are, I’m surprised to say, as I can be an opinionated bastard.

I was put on to Crikey pretty early and have probably been subscribing longer than most. I used to email Christian Kerr under his old pseudonym (Hillary Bray) including one I recall where I suggested that while he was trying to report under a female pseudonym, I was quite sure he was male. That fascinated me, the idea that a person’s gender would be revealed by their writings. Still does actually.

Some items in Crikey reported about university issues, and as I was working in the sector that got me started. Especially memorable was the email I sent to Stephen Mayne with big bold letters saying “please do not attribute this item, please if you publish it put it under “anonymous tips” or something”. Naturally Stephen missed that bit and published it with my name on it. Damn! No trouble ensued however.

Why Crikey?  It’s irreverent, it’s feisty, it doesn’t seem to mind an argumentative voice and has always been willing to publish. Other contributors mostly seem to understand the grown-up idea that an argument about interpretation, fact or perspective can be argued strongly without it being taken as a personal attack.

Why Crikey?  Well I feel quite chuffed putting some ideas out there in front of a group of people who I know are mostly from the intelligent end of society. God knows, maybe I’ll put an idea in the head of one of the many journalists who follow your email.  Maybe a pollie will read what I say and it will open his or her mind a little.

Mostly though it’s just me tilting at windmills, it doesn’t matter if my words have any effect, it’s about being part of the community. Somewhere the words are read and become part of someone else, in the same way that I read others contributions and am changed, little by little, with each new idea, with each slightly changed perspective.

And in some strange way I have joined a little club of those who are regular contributors, like a secret society of sorts. So secret in fact, we could be passing each other in the corridor.

David Hand writes: I first discovered Crikey when Channel Nine gave you priceless publicity over the boning of Jessica Rowe. What attracted me was the opportunity to support an independent news and analysis channel not controlled by media moguls who in turn have a cosy and often corrupt relationship with the power blocs in our society.  I wrote my first letter about recycled water in Queensland when I felt the anti-recycling activists were having plenty of unchallenged air-play.

Reflecting on why I write, I guess it’s a combination of:

• Crikey is a news channel that tends toward opinion pieces and not straight news. Therefore many items invite comment.
• Crikey allows a wide range of views and therefore my view, though not shared by all, is taken seriously.
• I’ve become a grumpy old man and writing letters to the media is what grumpy old men do. (Though for some reason, I rarely write to anyone else.)
• I think Crikey’s readership is probably among the more active and informed consumers of media.
• But mostly it’s to try and give balance to Crikey’s left-wing editorial bias. Keane, Sparrow, Rundle et al write with a predictable red-tinged focus that begs for a balancing view.  The Rudd Government tends to appear through their filter as a sort of benign, competent presence compared to their obsessive interest in the goings on of the coalition.
• I would like to see Crikey source a writer to add an alternative perspective because there’s so much happening on the Government side that you don’t really cover with the same enthusiasm.  I think it would make you a better publication.  In the meantime, Bernard and Co need someone to have the odd go at them from a right-of centre perspective.

As a matter of disclosure, I am a member of the Liberal Party though not a particularly significant player and I don’t write on their behalf or at their request.

Bruce Graham writes: I write letters to Crikey because I know they will be read by people who do not agree, and because Crikey publishes more complex and nuanced letters than most commercial media. I enjoy debating. Most of my contributions  are critical responses to somebody else’s comments, and it is fun to be part of an evolving debate.

It is important to remember that the target audience is not my opponents, but the uncommitted observers on the sidelines, so I try to be engaging rather than dogmatic. I almost always lead with some type of compliment to the writer I am about to criticise, because that is how I would talk in person. Commercial media gives excessive coverage to those at the extremes of any debate.

I enjoy creating what I hope are reasoned, readable, and moderate comments, which bring the audience in the direction I wish to travel, without forcing them to choose whether they accept the whole journey. It is satisfying that somebody else thinks these comments are at least worth reading.

Michael Byrne writes: I like Crikey because it is an oddball within the established media of Australia. It is informative ( though more of a particular world view) and larrikin.

I like oddballs: Whitlam as a loved elite with style in ordinary Australia, Keating as a bovver boy with civic imagination that led great change, John Howard as a throwback that  threw out the new elites who grew unchecked in the back paddocks of Labor hubris and, of course, Tony Abbott, who is a new generation throwback with deep roots and, it appears, in with a chance to route the shallow rooted silent choir behind  Kevin Rudd.

I am an oddball within the Crikey ecosystem as I am a man of faith who recognises that with the failure of the Secularisation Theory there rises the challenge for people of faith to assert their worldview as a valid contributor in the public square.

BTW: I put my money where my mouth is with a $500 contribution to Stephen Mayne’s legal cause at  a time when that amount was a sacrifice to me.

John Goldbaum writes: Crikey is an edgy “Beltway” publication which is perused by an elite of political decision makers, economic commentators and influencers of public opinion.  I write in order to persuade those people so that I can influence the agenda more quickly and directly than the slower process of persuading the average person in the street through the fog of the normal letters columns in the daily press. It empowers me.

Crikey offers me the advantage of allowing pithy, humorous, ironic, sarcastic, hard-hitting and even outlandish commentary or just parody. I don’t feel constrained in the manner in which I am allowed to develop my argument or make my point, or the topics I am allowed to address. Censorship is minimal. Puritanical editing is non-existent. I am allowed to use either prose or verse, and occasionally, imaginary musical backing.

I have found that if my contribution is funny, original, thought-provoking or simply provocative, I will be published. I am allowed to float ideas, advocate change, or criticise other people’s statements, decisions and actions. Thanks for the opportunities.

Ken Lambert writes: Why do I write letters to Crikey? Because every now and then it needs a straight right from a 50-plus grumpy old engineer with some technical knowledge and liberal imperialist tendencies. Because it features a range of contributors from the Strangelovian Guy Rundle to the amateur climate scientist Ben Sandilands, meaty bite Richard Farmer and the sensible Alan Kohler.

Because it irritates and rabbits on in pinko fashion and occasionally gets it right. Because it is big enough to print my rants when they are half good. As the old Eskimo saying goes: Crikey I like you — but not yet enough to go seal hunting with you…

Gabriel McGrath writes: Crikey has unique stories of interest, or at least unique angles on stories seen elsewhere. They’re stories that I want to respond to, and I know if I write something decent, it’s likely to be published.

Hell, if it wasn’t for Crikey, I’d have to write to newspapers, and compete with all those god-awful letters about climate scepticism, drunk footballers, c-list starlets and thinly-disguised racism.

Niall Clugston writes: As an avid media consumer, I’ve gravitated to Crikey because it is the one place I can read opinions with which I more or less agree.  And that’s because I’ve written them — and recently at that.

Where else would I have the privilege to be inaccurately berated by Derryn Hinch? Or accurately berated by Mark Latham?  Who else would continue to run what a former Crikey correspondent called my “florid rants”?  Which other journalists would respond so diligently and intelligently to my persistent missives?

Perhaps I should take this opportunity to apologise for this years-long verbal bombardment, but then, Crikey, you have encouraged me.

Cathy Bannister writes: It’s really not that I enjoy seeing my own name online. Being dyslexic, more often than not re-reading anything I write makes me wince, because that’s when I’ll pick up all the redundancies, garbled grammar and mangled expressions.

There are issues about which I do feel passionate, for instance our treatment of asylum seekers, and sometimes, even if I’m not sure it will add to the discourse, I just can’t help but belt something out at speed. Often I’ll be driven by sheer catharsis, or if I feel that there might be a point that seems to have been overlooked. There were several of those in the debate about Bill Henson, which immediately polarised in a way that obliterated ambiguities.

But I’d be disingenuous if I didn’t admit to other forces driving me to write. Back in 1985, I went to a careers evening at what was then the Canberra College of Technical and Further Education. At the journalism booth, this sandy-haired, beardy catweazel of a guy was sitting on a desk, swinging his legs under him. It turned out to be Ian Warden, the Canberra Times’ columnist who could wield an adjective like a sabre, and whose pieces I’d always admired. I was way too shy to ask him anything myself, but casually hung around long enough for someone else to begin a conversation.

As long-term Canberrans will know, back then Mr Warden was known for writing with a wit less acerbic than acetic (more vinegar than lemon), and he was asked why he was so negative. He said (although I’m sure he put it more eloquently) that he liked try to get a reaction from people, and to see how far he could push a subject before someone bit. Now although I was a quiet, shy, well-behaved kid, I did enjoy the odd surreptitious prank, and with an angelic face was never caught. The idea of making a living by stirring people to apoplexy sounded like the best job in the world.

As soon as I hit University, I forgot I’d wanted to write, and in the intervening years I grew up enough to not get quite as much enjoyment out of baiting people. But I must admit, some the vestigial fragments of that long abandoned ambition to stir remained, and is probably behind the letters I send to editors, including to the long-suffering and patient letters editor of Crikey. Hope you don’t mind too much.

Humphrey Hollins writes: I write letters to Crikey because I know that Crikey has subscribers among the top political and business networks in Australia. But even among us drones out here there are some sharp thinkers whose opinions matter. I have enjoyed Crikey immensely for the past 10 years and congratulations on your survival in the media jungle.

Jenny Morris writes: Why do I write to Crikey?  Because you publish me — you’ve created a monster!  Seriously, I write because something piques my interest, makes me cross or gives me a laugh.  I like the ease of responding to stories or others’ comments — a quick email will do the trick — and that somehow, this makes Crikey an interactive experience.

I subscribe because I want an alternative source of news and opinions.  Commenting is a way of connecting — with Crikey, your writers and other readers.  And ever before me is that paragon of letters to the editor — Mrs Constance E Little, formerly of Swan Reach, now dearly departed.

Peter Lloyd writes: I write to Crikey because (roughly in descending order of importance):

1. I know politicians and their staff read it, and because ideas can be explored in a bit more detail than is possible in the letters section of, say, a newspaper.
2. Crikey airs the hidden agendas, links and motivations that are a standard part of how politics works, but that are rarely mentioned in the mainstream narrative.  I believe constantly exposing these agendas to be a great unfulfilled duty of the Australian media.
3. I worked in Canberra for four years as a media monitor, but have spent most of my life in mundane jobs: postman, disability support worker, food deliverer, library assistant, call centre worker, auto parts salesman.  I suspect to most in the world of business and politics working people are either abstractions or an inconvenience, troublemakers or dopes.  I hope I can occasionally remind them that people who do common work have some handle on what they’re up to.

Julian Gillespie writes: To keep youse subscription leaching bastards honest… but really, any mob that continually prints my rants must be holding up their end of the free and open press deal as they best they can, which is why I do enjoy the daily read and throwing in a comment or two. Congrats on the birthday and send me some cake.

Moira Smith writes: Gosh you must be fed up of seeing my name by now (possibly you and the letters editor of the Canberra Times both — not to mention several politicians’ unfortunate minions)!

I’m afraid the answer is probably something like “because I’m a dyed-in-the-wool ratbag, and I can’t help it”. But the really interesting question would be: “Why do you get published so often? Is it just your sheer persistence, or because your opinions are SO sensible and — well —  overwhelmingly RIGHT?” …

Alas, you didn’t ask that one, so I won’t try to answer it.

Jim Hart writes: The short answer is because you publish them. Most of the time. The longer answer is perhaps that I enjoy the sense of contributing to a dialogue among people who by and large are probably reading Crikey for similar reasons, though not necessarily with similar opinions.

And perhaps I write as a way of encouraging Crikey in what you are doing. I’ve always had a fondness for alternative publishing — meaning any part of the media that offers an alternative voice to the mainstream — provided it has something interesting to say. And trust me, my motives are honourable — I wouldn’t do it if I thought that I wouldn’t respect you in the morning.

I rarely get the urge to write about the leading political and social issues of the day, figuring that you get enough contributions and correspondence from people who are far better qualified than I. Instead I prefer to write about the side issues, the more quirky aspects of the news, the inconsistencies, the ironies. Not to mention your typos and grammatical peccadilloes.

It’s probably because Crikey is an online publication without the tyranny of a finite page area  that you are able to publish a diverse amount of feedback from your readers. Including mine — most of the time. And when you don’t it’s usually when I have realised (too late) that I shouldn’t have sent it in the first place, which just shows that your editorial judgement is generally awake and is saving me from becoming your Constance E Little.

John Kotsopoulos writes: I congratulate Crikey on its 10th birthday. As an avid reader since its inception,  I write to Crikey on  a regular basis in the knowledge that it is read by those in highest echelons of Government and industry in the hope that I can contribute to the public debate on matters of national policy about which I  am passionate.

Justin Templer writes: Another long-time reader Justin Templer, a Sydney-based chartered accountant employed by one of the four-pillar banks, says that he writes to Crikey “to maintain a grounded platform”.  Justin reckons that a site like Crikey’s brings out intelligent and challenging views, but often from wishful thinkers who want to live on Avatar’s Pandora.

Notwithstanding, “Crikey comment is likely to be more informed and interesting than the average letter to the Sydney Morning Herald — and often it is simply entertaining.”

Christian Kent writes: “Why do you write letters to Crikey?” I don’t know. Every time I write to say something in defence of HDTV, it gets binned. Or at least it did under the old regime. A lot. Or because my comments are too long for Column 8, SMH.

Alan Kennedy writes: I like the egalitarian feel to the Crikey postings.  Along with sites such as Larvatus, John Quiggin, Possum and Bludger it  feels like peer-to-peer communications. But I have to say while it is great getting a run on Crikey, the biggest buzz of all is when First Dog replies to one of your tweets.

Venise Alstergren writes:  Login to Crikey and you know immediately you’re among equals with shared concerns but, frequently with different solutions.  There’s bitter disagreement, riotous conversation, humour, bile, profundity, acid genius, despair, and the occasional club bore.

Passion is taken to an art form at Crikey’s website. And for me the greatest height of reader passion came as a result of an innocent (???) article suggesting Michael Jackson had been a castrato. How anyone could read the comments section that followed without dying of laughter I do not know. To read it is to understand, profoundly, the passion of the people who read the not so ubiquitous Crikey.

Along with the passion there are the people you feel comfortable with. Sometimes their political opinions are opposite of one’s own, but it’s there an invisible light-mesh chain which links together the various participants.

Faced with the excellent — sometimes stirring — articles by the resident talent, together with a large audience of highly motivated and passionate readers. How could I not write letters to Crikey?

Denise Marcos writes: I write to Crikey confident of no censorship: the letters are not edited and are published exactly as written. Apparently this is not the case in some newspapers. I diligently read “Comments, corrections etc” as contributors raise cogent points which occasionally sway my opinion on an issue … with the notable exception of Tamas Calderwood.

Trevor Best  writes: I have never entirely agreed with the editorial stance of the main Crikey journalists, but initially I regarded the forum as nonetheless creditable, and unlike blogs (which I detest), respondents had the integrity to use their own names.

As demonstrated by my contribution of Novemer 19, 2008, I was mainly moved by the need I perceived as an older person to correct, by presentation of actual facts, the torrent of misinformation and ignorance being promulgated too often.

Sadly my status at the moment is “unsubscribed”, for the reason that I was seeing much too much being published which was without factual basis, which editors had clearly not bothered to cull at all.

Sorry if this is not quite what you wanted to hear.

CRIKEY: Then I asked Crikey’s resident latte watcher Tony Barrell why he felt the need to email (always in a humorous way) Crikey whenever the term “latte sipper” was used in an edition:

Tony Barrell writes: Five reasons really.

1. First of all it’s cringey to think that because a coffee which has a lot of milk in it and is known by its Italian name is pretentious and unworthy of our down-to-earth shake-of-the-sauce-bottle way of doing things.
2. Journalists and commentators seized on “latte sippers” or “lappers” as a marker of the trendy elites they affect to despise (or dissociate from even if that’s exactly what they are!), using it as a separator to define their own authenticity. As in: we unpretentious ones who are in touch with the real people wouldn’t touch anything as phoney as a latte, would we?
3. It’s lazy — like chardonnay socialists and inner city trendies — a cultural discriminator and as such cheap, vulgar and discriminatory.
4. it’s wrong. Everybody drinks latte now.
5. Including me (the fifth reason).