Content Strategy

Paying For It

Yesterday, I wrote that content is expensive, and that there are really only four ways to subsidize content online: ads, subscriptions, marketing writeoffs, and paid delivery channels.

But we’re not really publishers over here in the web content world, so we don’t need to think about this stuff, right?

Eh. If you work in web content, sometime soon, someone’s going to ask you about “premium” content and ads and paywalls and you’re going to have to do better than assuming an optimistic expression and then distracting the client with a cupcake.

Not that I’ve ever done that.

Cupcakes from Saint Cupcake in Portland, OR

LOOK AT MY CUPCAKES. LOOK AT THEM.

When we talk about content strategy, we are, increasingly, talking about a field that goes well beyond editorial calendars, style guides, and some copy. This is wonderful, but if we’re going to stand up and say “Hey YOU with the org chart, we need your attention, because you’re going to be hiring some new people,” we need to be able to talk about the money thing. Not just how we get paid, but how this whole “Day Two Problem” world gets funded.

So. Details.

Ads: Sucking More and Sucking Less

There are plenty of people who can break down banner sizes and text-ad optimization techniques, and I’m not one of them, so I just want to mention two things about ads and content strategy.

  1. Good online ads are relevant and context-sensitive. This is bad news for publishers like The New York Times, which aren’t very good at making cozy, contextually appropriate homes for ads. It’s great for publishers like Nick Denton who build topical blogs with specific audiences that are attractive to advertisers. Likewise, it’s good for sites that are part of the Deck Network, which serves a single, relevant ad per page.
  2. Attention is finite, and ads are attention sinks. For most people, there’s a point past which the benefit of “free” content is outweighed by the obnoxiousness of the surrounding ads, which is when they either leave your site or install an ad blocker.

These two things are related. If you’re running a niche site that attracts an enthusiastic, narrowly focused readership that advertisers want to talk to, you probably won’t need to run bullshit ads that smell like  death.

Acai berry and tooth-whitening ads on the LA times website

Embarrassing scam ads on the LA Times website

Piling on more and larger ads is an equally bad solution. The higher your ad-to-content ratio gets, the less authority you maintain, and the more of your audience you lose—and then you’re less attractive to advertisers, who can in turn demand that you make their ads even bigger. Classic death spiral.

Screencap of the front page of the LA Times website with lots of ads

The front page of the LA Times website, with ads marked in red and navigation in grey

It’s easy to see why this happens, but the end is not going to be pretty. We need to help our clients think about this stuff.

Subscriptions: Friend and Foe

Subscriptions didn’t keep most print publications profitable even when print was doing well—classified and display ads did. Legal databases, academic databases, super-specialized content . . . that’s something a lot of people or institutions will pay for. News? Bloggy or magazine-style content? Not so much.

That’s the conventional wisdom, which seems to be validated by disasters like Newsday‘s acquisition of 35 whole subscribers in its first three months of operating behind a paywall. Jack Shafer provides a nice summary of paid content woes in Slate:, listing the NYT‘s TimesSelect, the LA Times‘s CalendarLive, and Slate itself as publications that tried and failed to make subscriptions work.

The reality is a bit more complicated, though. The Economist notes that despite the disastrous results some publications see with paywalls, others are thriving:

The two most prominent are the Financial Times, which lets web users view just a few articles each month before it asks them for money, and News Corp’s Wall Street Journal, which charges for much business and finance news. The FT says revenues from digital subscribers rose by more than 30% last year. This year the paper expects to generate more from sales of content—including the paper’s print edition—than from advertising. With the help of its online paid subscribers, the Wall Street Journal was the only big American newspaper to report a gain in circulation last year.

So why do some sites die behind paywalls, while others thrive? Shafer thinks he knows:

Not all successful paid sites are alike, but they all share at least one of these attributes: 1) They are so amazing as to be irreplaceable. 2) They are beautifully designed and executed and extremely easy to use. 3) They are stupendously authoritative.

He goes on to list examples like ConsumerReports.org, MLB.TV, CooksIllustrated.com and “genealogical, fantasy sports, gambling, and pornography sites”—a collection that doesn’t entirely support his three-point test for content that people will pay for. The Economist, meanwhile, usefully notes that “There are a great many paid-for newsletters, from the Stockman Grass Farmer to the Gaming Industry Weekly Report.”

So what’s the upshot? People will pay for content that is difficult or impossible to get elsewhere, either because:

  1. the information itself is unique, as with Consumer Reports, Cooks Illustrated, and the Gaming Industry Weekly Report, or
  2. the information is surrounded by obviously and uniquely valuable analysis and context, as with the financial newspapers.

The first is an easy sell; the second is a bitch and a half.

If your content meets either of the above criteria, you’ll also be attractive to advertisers. Funny, that.

Marketing

Most content that professional content strategists work with is subsidized by its function as a marketing or sales tool (which, for me, includes corporate communications, customer service, and PR). There are plenty of exceptions, like interface copy, purely informative content, and intranets, but this category covers most content produced by institutions who don’t consider themselves publishers.

It also subsidizes the blogs and personal of freelancers and other independent artists and craftspeople, the publication of most nonfiction books, magazines like A List Apart, and bucketloads of the awful content designed to confuse and clog search engines.

We already help clients ask the right questions about this: Can I afford to spend X amount of time and money on marketing? If yes, great. If no… Am I sure that’s really true? Am I spending more money doing less effective things? (And if I am sure, what can I afford to do?)

Paid Delivery Channels: The New Hotness

The iPad isn’t going to “save publishing,” but the sale of delivery channels via iPhone and iPad applications may be the proof of concept the industry needs to develop a paid delivery model.

At our SXSW panel earlier this month, I mentioned that the iPhone/iPad app frenzy may be useful primarily as a way of training users to expect to pay for convenience. Yesterday, Slate‘s Jacob Weisberg—who certainly knows a lot more about the business of publishing than I do—gave an interview about Slate‘s iPhone app and the notion of training users to fork over money:

My philosophy about this is we want to keep the content free but people to pay for the convenience of delivery in mobile forms…. I think it makes a lot of sense but I also think it’s very important that we train users at an early stage to expect to pay for mobile.

This is important.

Of course, paid channels are  easy to get wrong. The same principles of good publishing and design elsewhere on the web—give users what they want, don’t make them think, make your design both functional and beautiful, plan for long-term maintenance—hold true in the development of successful mobile applications.

We should be helping our clients ignore the hype, focus on those parts of the model that make sense for them, and make smart choices about integrating paid delivery channels into their immediate and long-term plans.

Next week on Incisive: The next big challenge—making it simple.

Content is Expensive

One of the ideas that kept pecking at my brain while I was prepping for our SXSW publishing panel was this: Content isn’t free. If it’s good, it’s very expensive to make. We can subsidize its production and maintenance in any number of ways, but we have to start being honest—with ourselves, our clients, and sometimes our readers—about its true cost. And when I said something to that effect on the panel, a nearly audible roar of agreement popped up in my Twitter feed.

This is something we need to talk about.

Why Content Isn’t Cheap

Round about the time Amazon freaked out and ostracized Macmillan, a lot of people—many of them Kindle owners—started asking why they should have to pay more than a couple of bucks for their ebooks. After all, there are no printing, storage, or distribution costs for ebooks, so aren’t publishers just being greedy?

A bunch of authors and small publishers—many of them suffering sales losses from Amazon’s tantrum—stepped up and explained why books cost money.

These posts are worth your time, so pop those suckers open in a tab, but here’s the upshot: it takes a village to make a book. Authors, agents, editors, copyeditors, proofreaders, book designers, production leads, compositors, cover designers, project managers, sales teams, marketing departments, and so on. I won’t even get started on the resources required to publish a daily newspaper.

Online publishing also requires resources: planning, big doses of both creativity and disciplined analysis, writing, editing, design, project management, production, ad sales, and so on. It doesn’t usually require a separate person for each of those tasks, but it still tends to be a lot of work—more than most readers and clients tend to imagine.

Paying for It

Many organizations are beginning to realize that they need to include content planning, production, and maintenance in their budgets as well as in their project schedules. (Well…production, at least. And sometimes planning. We’re still working on it.)

But this is really a core part of the argument that people like Kristina and Jeffrey have been making: you have to plan for content, and you have to figure out to pay for it—not just immediately, but over the long term.

Most of us have worked for clients who loved the idea of “fresh” content, but had no idea what it would cost; many of us are also connected with publishing and media outfits that need to find a way to keep the lights on. We need to help our clients figure out how to pay for the content they need, and how to match their content plans with the realities of their budgets.

The right content strategy is the one that meets organizational communication needs, supports good relationships, and fits into the organization’s business model. Some clients may be able to change their business model or organizational structure to suit their communication needs, but many won’t. Some will need to find ways to publish more content; others will realize they should be doing much less. Either way, cost matters, and as content people, we should be able to talk about it.

Luckily for those of us who didn’t go to business school, there are really only a few ways to subsidize online content. Standing around waiting for an electronic media messiah hasn’t worked out very well for most print periodicals, so let’s consider the world we actually live in.

How to Make Money on the Internets

Most of the content on the web as we know it is subsidized by:

  • Ads. Both reader-friendly ads, like the Deck network and less objectionable text ads, and hostile ads, like the tasteless diet aid/crappy video game/teeth whitening visual spam that even major newspapers have begun to run. Ad-supported content isn’t really free, even to the reader. If it were, web users wouldn’t be installing ad blockers. More on that in the next segment.
  • Subscription/Paid Access. Paywalls, usually ringing only part of a site’s content, force readers to pay for content in actual currency or to gain access through institutions who buy group licenses. The Wall Street Journal uses the individual subscription model, while the Oxford English Dictionary and databases like JSTOR and Lexis-Nexis rely on the group-license model. Some sites will try micropayments, though I’m not especially sanguine about that, myself.
  • Marketing. A lot of “free” content is subsidized by its function as a marketing tool for the content producers or the people who pay them. Many, many blogs work this way. A List Apart now runs small ads, but long before it did, it worked as a marketing channel, establishing the expertise and credibility of its publishers and writers. Most non-fiction books are also subsidized by their value as marketing tools: they don’t pay well enough to be worth the effort for royalties alone. Most commercial content strategy work deals with this kind of content.
  • Paid Delivery Channels (The New Hotness). The paid iPhone app is a way of getting people to cough up money for content that they normally wouldn’t dream of paying for so they can receive it in a convenient way. Kinda like how we used to pay for newspaper delivery instead of going to the library to read the paper for free. (Spoiler: there is nothing new under the publishing sun.) We’re going to see a lot more of this in the nearish future as publishers realize that the race to free has resulted in a pileup of bleeding, sad people with no income.

That leaves a single category—content created out of love—that isn’t subsidized by anything but the individual’s desire to create, communicate, and be part of a community. For a couple of years, this is how most blogs and personal sites worked. It’s still the force behind most of the content on Flickr, Tumblr, YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, and all the other companies that have figured out how to make money by acting as content hosts and facilitators.

It’s also my favorite part of the internet, but unless your client is a content facilitator or aggregator, it’s not going to help pay the bills.

Part two: Let’s think about each of these methods of subsidizing content and how they relate to our work as content and editorial strategists.

Further Reading

The Plot (Not) To Annoy Eric Meyer

Headshot of Eric Meyer

Do not taunt happy fun Eric Meyer

Every year, thousands of people in the web industry attend the SXSW Interactive conference in Austin, and every year, the number of SXSW-specific tweets—way too many quotes from panels, of course, but also “Going to Ginger Man” and “Ballroom A is LIKE UNTO AN ICEBERG”—tend to drown out other discussion in the web-making section of Twitter.

And every year, Eric Meyer, who no longer attends SXSW, is annoyed by all the SXSW Twitter fuss. And reasonably so. Twitter needs to work out a way to send certain tweets to subsets of your followers. (Seriously, guys—Livejournal figured this out how many years ago? It’s time.)

Since Twitter hasn’t done so, I’m trying a new workaround, not just to avoid annoying Eric (although he is a very nice man), but as an attempt to hack together a better communication plan, period.

This year, once my plane hits the ground in Austin, all my SXSW-related tweets will start showing up at @kissane_sxsw instead of my usual @kissane account. Those who want to see my Austin tweets can thus opt-in, and all those who don’t can do nothing and won’t be deluged with “Tihs bar is so quite tonight” tweets over the weekend. Not from me, at least. (I stay out about as late as a teetotaling grandma, so my tweets are pretty tame, but still.)

It’s an experiment in not being irritating. I’ll let you know how it goes.

More and Better Ideas

  • Peter, in the comments section below, suggests at-replying SXSW-specific posts to @shhxsw. If everyone who wants to see SXSW tweets follows that account, presto, opt-in tweets. (Hey Peter, since we, uh, share an apartment, you should tell me these thoughts in your brain, dude.)
  • Erin Kurtz suggests tagging the most interesting/inspirational/cautionary tweets about SXSW with #sxswlesson—they will then show up at http://sxswlesson.com/. I think that’s a clever idea.
  • WD45, aka Clinton Forry, points to muuter, which I now plan to use every week when youse start discussing the newest Lost episode days before I see it. Score.
  • Amber Simmons (@ambersimmons) suggests Tweedact. How have I not been using these things all along?! Yes, interrobang.
  • Got more Twitter hacks or SXSW communication tricks? Put ‘em in the comments or tweet at me. I’ll collect everything I see here.

Visual Content: Beyond Tufte

Visual communication is one of the least frequently explored areas within the content world, possibly because it’s so easy to lump in with UI design, aka Not Our Problem. But many forms of visual communication clearly are content, part of the muscle of a website or other project.

In the hands of a skillful communicator, visual content conveys information and ideas with extraordinary efficiency. In the content world, we pay lip service to non-textual content—and we do work with photographs, screenshots, and video—but how often do most of us get to employ custom illustration, diagrams, illustrative animation, or infographics?

Similarly, we’ve probably all drooled over the beautiful, intelligent communication work in Edward Tufte’s publications, but how many of us in content positions have integrated visual ideas into our early planning processes?

Traditional Uses of Visual Content

The winners of Science magazine and the National Science Foundation‘s Science and Engineering Visualization Challenge are excellent examples of the relatively common use of visual content to explain complex scientific or technical ideas to a popular readership:

Bat flight visualization poster

2007 Winner, Informational Posters and Graphics

Brain development visualization poster

2009 Winner, Informational Posters and Graphics

As are these images, from New Scientist and the US Geological Survey, respectively.

how long resources will last

Resource use, from New Scientist (criticism here)

geologic time depicted as a spiral

Geological time spiral, by the USGS (more info)

Visual Content Requires New Tactics

The New Scientist poster demonstrates an interesting and web-specific problem in the use of visual content. Published in 2007, the image popped online in April 2009, and was passed around blogs and newsfeeds as an isolated image divorced from its context. It took me 15 minutes of Googling to find the article it originally accompanied. Much easier to find was a set of interesting critical remarks about the image and its implications; this is presumably not what the New Scientist editors would have preferred.

This example of disassociation from context illuminates a problem: content workers must consider the fate of visual content that breaks loose from its original home. Each piece of visual content needs to include a hook back to its source in case it gets passed around separately, as is increasingly likely in a web experience characterized by feeds, Digg, and tumblr.

A tangential but more important problem centers on the contextual information itself. When I finally did find the original New Scientist article, I found almost no details about the data represented, about the choices made by the image’s designers, or about meaningful connections between article and image.

The web, which gives publishers an opportunity to back up broad overviews with background content and abundant data, has also made it easier and easier for readers to spot fluffy, shallow approaches to communication. Visual content must not become an excuse for presenting only the eyecatching, the easily grasped, and the universally appealing.

Unexpected Visual Angles

diagram of the Ancient Hebrew construction of the universe

Ancient Hebrew Cosmology, by Michæl Paukner

elaborate diagram of artistic influences

Canadian designer Marian Bantje’s influences map

Visual content can also communicate ideas normally buried in relatively dry text—ancient cosmological models, for example, can be liberated from Religious Studies textbooks by a great image, and artistic influences conveyed in a way that’s far more compelling and individual than the one more artist’s statement or lengthy interview Q&A.

The Cost of Visual Content

One reason illustrations and other visual forms of communication don’t often make it to the web is that it’s perceived to be too expensive. In reality, the expense is relative.

Good visual content can clear up confusion, strengthen brands, and make a website feel like a solid publication. Above all, it can communicate in ways and at speeds that text alone cannot. It’s a form of content worthy of serious consideration during the content planning—and funding—process.

Still not sure custom visual content is worth the extra money?

Consider the debate provoked by this image:

The Road to Recovery infographic

Infographic from BarackObama.com

A paragraph of text or a data table would have been less expensive to create than the Obama administration’s visual story, but would have had only a fraction of the impact. The ensuing debate has revealed quite a lot about the strategic thinking that goes into visual content.

As content professionals, we’re working within a golden age of visual communication, and visual content offers us (and the people who hire us) an excellent opportunity to communicate more clearly. I know that I, at least, need to do a better job of integrating visual storytelling into my large content projects, and of advocating appropriate means of communication even when they cost a bit more up front.

Obama Hires Tufte

I wrote this article last week and set it aside to cool before posting. Since then, the White House has announced that it has appointed Edward Tufte to its Recovery Independent Advisory Panel. The administration has apparently realized what an extraordinarily powerful tool visual content can be in the communication of complex information—so why not bring in the best man in the game?

Brain Food

Content Strategy Is About Publishing

In a couple of weeks, I’m going to be on a panel called “New Publishing and Web Content” at SXSW Interactive, and I’ve been thinking even more than usual about publishing and the anxieties surrounding its supposed demise.

When people talk about the imminent death of publishing, they’re usually talking about something narrow, specific, and tied to ways of working that predate the internet: the publication of books, magazines, newspapers, and all kinds of printed legal and business data, along with the economic, logistical, and aesthetic structures that have made that process possible. And that kind of publishing is indeed getting whipped around like a very small cowboy on a very large bull.

Why? Because the internet is made of publishing, and its new and often anarchic publishing models are messing with older models in all kinds of ways.

A lot of smart people are talking about what will happen to traditional organizations and methods and how they’ll be changed by the forces of New Publishing. This is a great conversation, but for a lot of content people, it’s obscuring a more important point.

The really useful part of this conversation—for content people and the people who hire us—is that we are all now enmeshed in a publishing process that predates the internet by several hundred years.

Where We Go From Here

Last week, Kristina Halvorson published a great post about the thing that content strategy is becoming. And down toward the end is this little depth charge:

…once we’ve witnessed content strategy’s effectiveness at the project level, it’s time to take several steps back and examine our organizations. Because content strategy can’t be truly effective over the long term without an internal editorial infrastructure to support it. And that means widespread organizational change.

If that doesn’t make your ears ring, take a few deep breaths and read it again. (Kristina’s from Minnesota, which is presumably why that statement isn’t splashed across the Brain Traffic website in 72-point black text.)

She’s saying something that anyone who’s done much content strategy work already knows, but has until now despaired of telling their clients: Content strategy engagements are the very beginning of a much larger process. And if you don’t commit to the much larger process, you will not keep up in the new world for much longer. It’s not a new idea—AOL’s Steve Case was talking about it ten years ago and it’s the assumption behind the recent surge in attention to editorial strategy—but it’s one that the business world may finally be ready to hear.

To restate the basics:

  1. The internet made it possible for everyone to become a publisher.
  2. The internet plus the market made it mandatory for organizations to become publishers if they want to compete for the attention of their constituents.

The recent increase in client enthusiasm for content strategy is the sound of a significant minority of organizations slowly beginning to realize the above.

Old Think(ing) for New Publishers

So let’s talk about what this means. Publishing online requires a known set of skills: creative leadership, design, editing, production, quality control, and ongoing planning and management. It also takes a few new skills, like community management, curation, and semantic wrangling, most of which are borrowed from other disciplines. But it’s largely made up of new applications for old skills.

When we talk about content strategy, we’re mostly explaining to our clients that if you want to be part of an online conversation, you must become a publisher. And because we’ve been publishing books, magazines, newspapers, catalogs, pamphlets, and fanzines in various forms since the 1450s, we know a few things about that.

We know, for example, that publishing is a genuinely complex task that requires vast quantities of invisible labor. We also know that the things we’ve learned to do as publishers of books and especially of magazines and newspapers can help our clients do a much better job of communicating with their readers. Things like:

  • building a solid editorial workflow, including clear approval processes and thorough quality checks,
  • using editorial calendars and planning content campaigns and themes—explicit or otherwise—well in advance,
  • tuning content for specific channels and audiences (if you think this is a new idea, consider the challenges of putting out regional editions of newspapers and magazines in print, on the same day, all over the world), and perhaps most importantly,
  • regularly publishing smart, original content that readers can use, which means hiring people who can listen to internal experts and write, edit, and curate content that extends well beyond white papers, executive bios, and the annual report.

We (by which I mean you) are doing a great job of talking about this stuff amongst ourselves. Next, we need to do a better job of communicating it to our clients. In particular, we need to help our clients focus on this core challenge—publishing—in the face of constant distraction in the form of new tools and trends.

Keep Your Eye on the Doughnut

From about 1999 onward, the peripatetic experts of the leading-edge online trend of the moment have generated a standing wave of hype about tools disguised as paradigm shifts—just poke Twitter to see how many social media “gurus” are lined up to take your money. This is what happens on frontiers, and the snake oil salesmen aren’t going anywhere until the rate of change slows down. In the meantime, it’s our job as content and editorial strategists to help our clients focus on the central challenges and opportunities of online communication.

Right now, these are the trees: Twitter, Google Buzz, Facebook, YouTube channels, tagging, SEO (still), user-generated content. Publishing is the forest.

Help your clients and bosses come to grips with the publishing process, and the rest of your content strategy will sell itself.

Further Reading

Rebooting Incisive.nu

When I started doing content work back in 1999, “content strategy” was a wee bitty field mostly limited to vast “enterprise” projects. The first time I began talking about “editorial strategy” online, in 2005, I got heckled by a stranger who couldn’t believe that such a thing existed.

We also had to walk to work in the snow year-round and boil our used typewriter ribbons for soup stock over a fire made of our dot-com-boom stock options.

The field of content strategy has since been widely recognized as a real, important part of the online world, thanks in large part to the work of tireless communicators like Kristina Halvorson, Rachel Lovinger, Jeffrey MacIntyre, Colleen Jones, and Margot Bloomstein.

Most content people also happen to be writers, and in the last 18 months or so, a flourishing crop of great content strategy articles, blog posts, meetups, and conversations has sprung up. Similarly useful and interesting conversations are happening in a range of allied fields and disciplines as well—in information architecture, visual design, and usability, but also in education, (print) publishing, interactive fiction, library science, and cognitive science, just for starters.

On this new version of Incisive.nu, I’ll be collecting those conversations, partly as a way of making my own research and reading (potentially) useful to others and partly to provide a centralized place for collecting disparate bits of the larger conversation about publishing, content work, and editorial strategy.

Thank you for reading.