I learned about both as a young journalist in the 1980s. I was educated about the magic of Kodak’s Tri-X black-and-white film by some of the most impressive newspaper photographers in the business. Meanwhile, other colleagues taught me “newspapering.”
Now, some 30 years later, newspaper companies and Kodak are both going broke, with thousands of the best employees in their professions forced to leave. As a romantic, it saddens me deeply.
The demise of film-based companies, such as Polaroid and now Kodak, are well-documented as case studies. Same for the ongoing woes of the newspaper business.
In a recent business meeting, a veteran marketer spoke about how seemingly amazing it was that neither industry saw the slow-moving train known as digital coming at it. I agree with him, mostly.
In both cases, I believe both industries clearly saw the multi-decade downward trends in their businesses. The problem was most of the businesses in those categories were paralyzed about how to respond.
In the case of Kodak, this week’s unsurprising news of its bankruptcy filing was made more ironic by the fact that it apparently invented digital camera technology but let it slip through its hands. Kodak’s take was it “didn’t defend its intellectual property aggressively enough.” The take of one business analyst on TV, “It’s a classic case of them blaming everyone but themselves.”
The same could be said for some, but not all, newspapers. My former longtime employer had one of the earliest Websites in the business. The site has been an award-winning one for more than two decades and had one of the earliest “pay walls.” They’ve done all the right things: investing in content, programmers, and creating special digital products.
Yet, last month some of the best journalists that organization has seen became the latest group to take an early buyout and unwillingly step away from their passion. Their business had been left behind, despite Clay Shirky, Newspaper Next, and John Paton.
I also had the opportunity last year to visit Rochester, N.Y., the corporate home of Kodak. I got a driving tour of the few buildings still standing and the great number that had been leveled. I was a guest at a dinner with folks who work at Kodak and see their singular way of life slipping away.
At that same table were journalists who spoke of seeing the same things in their careers. They were all great people. I put myself in their shoes and experienced a feeling of loss that is hard to articulate. Yet we enjoyed the moment, had some wine, told funny stories.
We have choices in life: waxing nostalgic; doing something about it; or moving on. I’ve done all of the foregoing, but still like reading a print newspaper and shooting a roll of Tri-X film. I think I’ll do both today.
