 And thanks to our friends at the Berkman Center for inviting me along. This is a tweet I posted this morning. Now, as to the use of this tweet, I am not a lawyer. That's an IANAL as an abbreviation. I've used many times in online forums as well delivering bad legal advice to people. So I'm not in a good position to answer the legal question of issues of fair use and copyright. There are plenty of other people who are in a much better position than I. But I think that issues of aggregation, which is really what I want to talk about today, have both a legal element and a legal perspective. And they also have what you might call a moral or an ideological or a socialized element. It's really the difference between activity being legal or illegal and what sort of activity is going to get you shamed and isolated by your peers? You know, what violates your professional norms? And I think of aggregation as one of these areas where the battle's going on, that some of which were described this morning, on both sides of that, they're on both sides of that divide. It's not just what's legal, but what is, what is cool? I don't mean cool in the sense of current or of the moment I mean cool as in you do it and someone else can say, oh, dude, that's not cool. Don't do that. Can't steal my headline. You know, how do we define what really counts as original reporting in this environment? What is the set of rules that we can set for ourselves on these points? Some of you may remember that about a year ago, Mark Cuban, the owner of the Dallas Mavericks and among other things, caused a bit of an online discussion when he asked if tweets were protected by copyright. He had tweeted some rather indiscreet thoughts about the referees of the National Basketball Association, had been fined $25,000 by the league, four said improper tweets. And as a result, when that happened, the story was written about and his tweets were reproduced by wire services, newspapers, and other folks who were writing about the issue. So he asked, I never gave ESPN.com permission to republish my tweet. Are they violating my copyright? Now, let's set aside the issue of fair use here for a minute where even someone as non-lawyer as I could see would be a significant factor. You know, it's an interesting question. Can a tweet be copyrighted? And it led to a pretty, I think fruitful discussion. This was a piece written by a guy named, a lawyer named Brock Shinin, Shinin, not sure. He was smart enough to quickly register can you copyright a tweet.com? Very smart. And he put forth his argument that no tweets were not copyrightable. He actually was a little bit more nuanced, the quote was, I admit, I think a protectable tweet exists in theory. I have read hundreds if not thousands of tweets and have yet to read one I believe would be protectable, but the possibility exists. And that led to Jason Kotke, one of the true old school bloggers, the guy who was sort of present at the creation, to ask whether that meant that all tweets were therefore in the public domain. I understand that the lawyers in the room were just thinking this is not an appropriate line of legal reasoning on any part, but, Jason is a fan of the tweets written by a guy named Merlin Mann, a popular guy on Twitter. And he says here, let's say I wanted to publish tweets, the wit and wisdom of Merlin Mann, an unabridged book of Merlin's Twitter stream. Can I do that? Someone else, Consuelo Reinberg, then from the World Intellectual Property Organization, then wrote a piece arguing that there may be a little bit more room for copyrightable tweets. She cites one opinion that saying that a tweet reflecting a selection or arrangement of facts rather than a wrote report might make the subject matter copyright-eligible. And then later, another old school web guy, Jeffrey Zeldman, who is not to my knowledge a lawyer at all, but is a good web designer, expressed his stance that you cannot copyright a tweet, citing the US copyright code statement that short phrases do not fall under what is covered. Now, I'm sure that there are smarter legal answers to all these questions than what we've seen here, but I'm interested in what Jeffrey said next, which was however original, witty or profound they may be, meaning something on Twitter, nothing more than good manners protects your original expression of ownership. In other words, he's arguing that protection is really a matter of social norms, not a matter of law. And that gets to the argument I'm trying to talk about today. You know, we saw an example of this last year. A well-respected web company named Airbag Industries decided to launch something called Twitshirt. Pronounce that correctly, Josh, Twitshirt. The idea that if you like it, the idea being that if you like a tweet, you can buy a t-shirt with that tweet on it for only $20. And here's a potential example. If I had wanted to buy a t-shirt with the tweet I put up this morning, it's available to me. And of that $20, 50 cents would then be turned over to the Twitter in question. That is the return on investment for a witty tweet for every t-shirt sold, you get 50 cents. Not 50 cent, the wrapper, just 50 cents. The upward was immediate. People were outraged at this. People were outraged that their tweets might be only, appearing on shirts without their permission. Merlin Mann, the fellow whose tweets I mentioned earlier that Jason Kakiadmar tweeted so simple, if you want to sell something someone else made, negotiate it like an adult. If you think it's not valuable, then why sell it? Some here may recognize the tenor of this negotiated deal argument from some things that we've heard from attorneys representing some major media companies. If you want to reuse our content, we'll be happy to negotiate a license with that use. Other people, someone named Billy Maybray, I don't know who he is, advanced a few other arguments, you know, how do you handle retweets? If someone buys a shirt with a retweet on it, who gets the 50 cents? I mean, is it a quarter to the retweeter and the tweeter? What happens if you tweet, just do it? Are you then, you know, can you get away with that? How does this all work? Anyway, what, you know, Twitter's terms of service agreement clearly says that retweeting is within the boundaries of legal use, that everyone signs when they sign onto Twitter. Anyway, very quickly, these social norms that Jeffrey Zellman was talking about, they swung into effect almost immediately. Within 24 hours, after taking loads of abuse from the Twitterverse, or at least the portion of the Twitterverse that felt they were being harmed by this policy, Airbag, the company that was doing this, said, hey, hey, oh, okay, we're changing this. They posted this up, we're reversing the polarity. And Twitchert abandoned their plans to go forward with their previous model. They shifted to an opt-in model. You would have to approve your tweets being sold, or put on shirts, I should say, that then gets sold. And they also, in an incredibly generous moment, boosted the 50 cents to one full dollar, which makes it a great deal. And Twitchert still exists today, you can buy a shirt right now, but it hasn't really taken off. But again, it was the social norms of the Twitterverse that kind of, and the portion that was complaining that led to these changes. And I'm interested in these social norms, particularly as they've evolved in the world of journalism. You know, there are some very smart people who have studied this far more than I have, but you know, journalists have evolved their own collective identity over the last 100 years, more than that. And it's generally moved in the direction of professionalization and creating a system of internal codes. It's become a bit more, several people have argued by analogy, a bit more like the legal profession, where people think of themselves as a class that is a profession, not as journalism would have experienced itself, say, in the 1920s, when it was sort of a dirty job for high school dropouts. Or folks who had actually never probably got to high school. And these codes are generally supported by the stories that journalists tell themselves about why they exist and what they mean to society. The argument that your local dailies attendance at the city council meeting is really the only thing holding back the state of nature. And that brutal dictatorship is right around the corner if you don't have a city hall reporter at the meeting. But a lot of underneath all these very self-glorifying ideas rest some very self-serving ideas that attempt to create themselves as a protected class. I was a really early web nerd. I got to college in 1993 and I wrote my first HTML in 1994. I paid for all my mid-90s college pizza by designing really in retrospect ugly websites. And if I have any sort of blogging street credits that I was user number 2246 of blogger.com back in the day in 1999. But as was stated earlier, I spent my career in my journalism career in newspapers. I was a straightforward news reporter. I was an investigative reporter in a columnist and I wasn't the web guy. But I was consistently taken aback by the blind rage that with which my colleagues at work spoke about the bloggers as if they were a unified class of, you know, visit goths on the just over the horizon. You know, all they're doing is stealing our content as if there was literally no other content in the universe other than the content that appears on the pages of newspapers. Just the other day I read a reference to a study by Forrester Research that indicated that for Americans under the age of 40, 70% of the content that they read online was created by someone they know as opposed to the idea that they're all just reading re-blog New York Times stories. They don't know what they're talking about, these bloggers, they're a bunch of idiots. You know, as if many of the people who are writing blogs were not the same people that reporters would call to get expert testimony on a given question in many cases. They're not burning up the shoe leather, they're not going to the scene, they don't have smoke in their hair after a fire. As if, of course, all newspaper stories were Watergate and as if many were not, or maybe even most were not based on press releases and press conferences and any number of arrangements that are handed to journalists in which they perform a bit of journalistic magic on, but for the most part is hardly the stuff that Pulitzer Prizes are given for. I found these attitudes, I mean some of these attitudes have weakened but they've certainly not gone away. I find them strange because I saw bloggers and news reporters as kindred spirits, as people who had a similar set of instincts about wanting to find out information and share it with others and be heard. And I also find it interesting because aggregation and reuse are utterly intertwined into the DNA of modern American journalism. Aggregation is at the very center of what every journalist does, even the ones who shiver and disdain at the mention of the Huffington Post. So let's look back at history. The Postal Act of 1792 has enjoyed a small boomlet of attention in recent months because it was perhaps the clearest case of the federal government providing a subsidy to support newspapers, which is an idea many people who work for newspapers are extremely interested in these days. The idea was the newspapers were given a very deep discount on the postage necessary to deliver their issues through the mail if they chose to deliver them that way. And the subsidy worked really, really well. In 1794, only two years after the act was passed, newspapers generated 3% of the Postal Service's revenues but accounted for 70% of the total weight of the mail delivered in this country. That's subsidy working. And as a result, US newspapers gained a foothold in this country that wasn't really the case in Europe, wasn't matched elsewhere. But there was another really important element of that act, the Postal Act of 1792. And it was that it guaranteed free, not subsidized but completely and totally free, distribution of exchange newspapers, which are newspapers which are sent to other newspapers. Now imagine the New York Times sending off a copy of the New York Times to the Washington Post just, hey, I thought you might be interested in this. And by the 1840s, according to one study that Paul Star writes about, the average American newspaper received 4,300 exchange copies each year. There was this huge, so you could think of it as a proto-internet free exchange of information among producers of information. Now that system was not designed so that an editor in one city would be inspired to do additional reporting based on the story that was written in another city's newspaper. It was a system designed to inspire what many people today would consider rampant theft of news. It was not designed to create a better informed class of newspaper editors, it was designed to create a better informed class of newspaper readers. Because newspapers would lift stories whole from all these newspapers they were receiving. They would use them as essentially their foreign bureaus, their distant bureaus. If you're in Baltimore and you wanna know what's going on in Savannah, you're not gonna have a reporter there, you're probably not even gonna have a correspondent there, you're gonna have the Savannah morning whatever, and it's gonna be sent to you, and if something interesting happened there, you're gonna cut it out and reset it and type and publish it in your own newspaper. If you go through any newspaper from this era, you're going to find paragraph after paragraph of content that is purely lifted from their competition. Competition described loosely because of course they were not indirect financial competition in most cases. And they did this without even the benefit of the sort of cleansing rewrite or doing that extra interview, the kinds of tools that news outlets today use to make aggregation palatable to their social norms. It's difficult to argue that the end result is not a better informed public. Readers had access to news they wouldn't have otherwise had and adding those stories from afar made newspapers as products more valuable and more appealing for someone to buy. The practice continued for many years. Here's a piece I found last night from 1907, samples of newspaper wit, always, that's a good way to start, that's a good headline, SEO friendly. How a paragraph about a somnolent Kentuckian went the rounds of the press with comments supposed to be humorous. And I won't read the whole thing to you, but some curious things happen when the paragraph men get busy. They're the gentlemen with the shears who swell the comments of the local newspaper with spoils from the exchanges. A Louisville newspaper not long ago printed something about a Kentuckian who had been asleep for 12 years. The story may have been true. There's no telling the daily press does sometimes print the truth. Though it has a keener scent for the picturesque then for accuracy. Anyway, it details all the ways that this story of this obviously not particularly accurate story about a man who'd been asleep for 12 years spread across all the newspapers of the country. And many of them would just have reprinted it, but in these cases they added a little twist. You can see for yourself a variety of jokes that were of the moment in 1907. I mean, look at this, this is basically Gawker in 1907. This is basically taking news from other sources and adding a satirical twist to it, claiming it on your own. And they didn't even bother to link to the Louisville Courier Journal or whatever newspaper they got this from. Notice the reference in the first paragraph to paragraph men. Some of you may have seen Robert Darten, the head of our library here at Harvard, had a piece a couple weeks ago on the New York Review of Books website that touched on paragraph men. This is the piece. Paragraph men, well, let him describe it. London coffee houses were nerve centers where regulars picked up talk about the private lives of public figures. Some regulars reduced the talk to writing, always in the form of a paragraph, and turned their bulletins into editors or editor-compositors who set them in type and aligned the typeset paragraphs and columns on the imposing stone, ready for printing as the freshest advices. Known as paragraph men, these early modern reporters might get paid for the piece or they might supply copy in order to score points in the daily struggle to master public opinion. Some did it for their own pleasure, like many bloggers today. I mentioned this because it's interesting to imagine a hypothetical conversation back then around can you copyright the work of a paragraph man? Is that fall, similar to the Twitter discussion we had earlier? As I said, I'm not a lawyer far from it, but I'm aware enough of copyright law to know that the size or the scale of a creative work is a factor in things like fair use and copyright eligibility. Darten continues, describing how some of these paragraphs would then be assembled into larger anonymous book-like forms. If you read them carefully, you find that you, if you read them carefully, you find that they contain a great many passages that were lifted from one another or from common underground gazettes. They were really collages pieced together from preexisting material and whatever new items that were available, just like today's blogs, which serve up compilations of tidbits collected from around the web. Instead of imagining this literature as a corpus of books written by distinct authors, you should think of it as a shifting repertory of anecdotes, which were endlessly rearranged as they passed from one form to another. Indeed, here's a Daniel Defoe, the novelist, writing in 1703 in reference to a satirical poem that he'd written. Had I wrote it for the gain of the press, I should have been concerned that it's being printed again and again by pirates, as they call them, and paragraph men. But if they do it in justice and print it true, according to the copy there, welcome to sell it for a penny, if they please. The pence indeed is the end of their works. I don't know if there are many Daniel Defoe's in the contemporary news industry or not, who are quite so happy to have the penny going to the aggregator, but, one doesn't really have to go back in time to find examples of aggregation in traditional journalism. Every decent reporter who's ever worked for a regional newspaper has a story about how they broke a big story only to see the Big Foot New York Times come to town and write the same damn story, talk to the same damn people, not that it happened to me at all. You know, they're just adding the sort of bemused distance that the Times does when they write about things past New Jersey. You know, in places where newspapers compete with each other directly, reporters spend lots of energy watching what their rivals are doing, and whenever they have a good story, particularly if it breaks at say four o'clock on a Friday, figuring out what the minimally acceptable way is to get that story into the next day's paper, sometimes that means trying to get that confirming phone call to a source. Sometimes it just means rewriting it and adding on a credit. Sometimes, frankly, it means just rewriting and not adding on a credit in less than ideal times. A month ago, a New York Times reporter named Zachary Cowey was forced to resign after he plagiarized a story from a competitor. In his case, he was found to have existed, I've lifted exact wording in several cases, but it's wrong to think of what he did as being radically different from practices that have happened for decades. I would argue it's a matter of degree as opposed to radical difference. In some ways, it's a very puritan idea that as I said, the cleansing power of work, the idea that if you take a story from someone else, well, you better at least go through the energy, expend the sweat of rewriting it. As long as you do that, then it's okay, it's fine. Maybe throw in a site. It seems strange to me at least that the line between what newspapers consider plagiarism and a firing offense and what they have considered totally acceptable behavior for decades would rest on something as relatively a divide as flimsy as rewriting in a lot of cases. My colleague Jonathan Stray at the lab did an analysis a month ago of news coverage of the Google China hacking story. So he used as his universe of data all the stories available in Google News, boo, hiss, all the stories that related to this subject. He found there were 800 different stories, or 800 stories I should say that were in the Google News database. Of those, 121 were distinct stories that were written, they were not the exact same copies, that a lot of the others were wire service stories that had been duplicated many times. But of those 121 distinct stories, only 13 had any evidence of original reporting, of the reporter actually making a phone call or interviewing someone or adding anything to what was otherwise a symbol. And of those 13, only seven appeared to be truly independently reported where it was not simply an add-on to something that had previously been written. Now, in this case, we're not likely to have the same legal concerns that we were talking about earlier today because most of those news outlets, I would presume, or at least a lot of them, likely subscribe to the AP wire or the New York Times wire and they have the right to manipulate the copy however they wish. But it does raise the question, is this cult of rewriting the most efficient use of people's time? You know, 108 different outlets rewrote the same story. They did not add anything. They did not bring any journalistic material to the table other than taking the material that other people had created and moving it around and rewriting it. I would argue that a significant portion of that was wasted time and wasted effort and that online, the link economy and the ability to simply point people in the direction of other material is a much more efficient way of dealing with that than is often the case or than has traditionally been the case. You know, is the Puritan cleansing power, you know, is that enough, is that valuable enough for us to spend a whole lot of time and a whole lot of hours rewriting copy? I think as our resources continue to dwindle we're gonna hear that question a lot more. And it's a reason why we've been seeing many newspaper companies striking deals with someone who was just until recently, their rivals to share content. My former newspaper, The Dallas Morning News and the Fort Worth Star Telegram right across, I would say a river, there's Fagley River, right across a lot of suburbs. They now share sports coverage. The Morning News gets to cover Mark Cuban's Mavericks and the Star Telegram just takes all the Morning News's Mavericks stories. Star Telegram gets the Texas Rangers. Neither was willing to give up the Cowboys which I think is worth noting. The Ohio News Organization, which is now about two years old now was an organization designed to share copy among all the major newspapers in the state of Ohio. They didn't, they ate it and wanna go through the AP for a variety of reasons, but they also felt that it didn't make sense for them to invest a lot of energy if the plane dealer has a good story and the inquirer wants that story in its paper to invest the time in having one of their reporters try and rewrite it. Just run it with a plane dealer, a plane leader credit. And of course aggregation goes in the other direction to what we've often been talking about. How many news stories, feature stories, trend stories that you read in the times or elsewhere really started out because the reporter saw it on a blog and that was the point at which the aggregation began. It happens a lot. But I would argue that we need to think, when we think about aggregation for journalism, we need to think one more level down. I was having a conversation recently with a friend who studies libraries and librarians. And we were talking about how, and one could disagree with this, but I think it's correct. We're talking about why librarians as a class, as a professional class seem to have adjusted their mindsets to the internet age better than journalists have. The model of libraries is thrown into just as much chaos as the model of, say, newspapers by the internet in many ways. But it seems like librarians as a class have achieved a certain piece. I don't know, at least a lot. Maybe I just know very peaceful librarians. And with that change in a way that newspaper reporters haven't. Anyway, the closest we came to a conclusion was that librarians were comfortable with the idea that they are primarily conduits to information. They are not creators of information. Their job is to get their patrons the information that they need or that they want. And when you think of your job that way, the internet is just a new awesome tool that's been added to your toolbox. It's not incongruent with their professional identity. It's a new tool. Whereas newspaper folks have built their professional identity over, particularly over the second half of the 20th century, to the idea that their primary job was as the creator of information. Just as they told themselves they were the last bulwark of civilization, they also told themselves that they were engaged in acts of creation. And there are certainly cases where that is absolutely true. Great investigative reporting, for example. But I would argue that in the vast majority of cases, journalists are really nothing more than aggregators. They do not create information. They're not creating new facts. They are gathering facts and they are sharing that information. They are sorting through mountains of data. They're trying to figure out what is interesting. They're trying to perform a curatorial role of all the things that they could be writing about. Then they're identifying people who know more about that subject than they do. And they're trying to find out information from them, typically by quoting them. They take the most interesting or useful things that they say. They distill that from an hour-long conversation. And they assemble it with background information drawn from sources and then they share that with an audience. I think that journalists, newspaper reporters and others are the original aggregators. And I say that not to denigrate the work of many fine journalists who I know and I used to be a journalist in the newspaper sense. But I say that to say that I don't think that's a shameful thing. I think that it is a perfectly legitimate and wonderful thing to be someone who filters the noise of the universe and figures out what the important things are and then sharing that with an audience. I want to try and convince my journalism colleagues that aggregation is not the work of Satan. It's something inherent in the way that they do their work every day. As I said, this is not a legal argument. I can't make legal arguments. But I think that this is a societal shift that needs to happen within the society of journalists. A socialization process that needs to happen. We have left behind the world where information is a scarce good. I don't think for a variety of reasons that newspapers are going to be going out of business on mass anytime soon. But if they did, somehow as a civilization, we would survive. There are way too many websites and newspapers and blogs and YouTube videos and everything else out there that any one individual is ever going to be able to consume. And there is a really valuable role out there for being the person or the entity that sorts through all that information and presents the most important or the most interesting or the most noteworthy and encourages people to discover it. If you don't like what aggregators do, I say to newspaper folks, go do it better than they do. Don't argue that taking snippets of the work of other people and sharing them with an audience is something that Nick Denton invented a few years ago. It's a tradition that goes back centuries and it's inherent in the work of news organizations as well. Thanks. Do I take questions or do I sit down? Okay, thank you. Okay. I really enjoyed that. My question, what are, so the last sort of proposition you had was sort of encouraging in a way, journalists themselves to not only think of themselves as conduits to information, not necessarily Satan to be doing aggregation, but then to take a step of also then, in a certain sense, creating new structures for aggregation as a part of what is journalistic work, which then gets into programming and thinking about all these different forms of dealing with information. I was curious about what you see as some promising examples of that work being done. Well, I can give you an example that is dear to my heart, which is the Neiman Journalism Lab, which I run. We launched in October of 2008 and our goal is to try and report on the future of news and we learned very quickly that we just did not have the person power to be able to cover the field and that if we were going to present anything approaching a summative view of what someone interested in our subject matter would wanna know, that aggregation is gonna have to be a big part of it. So at a time when a lot of people are thinking of using Twitter as a tool for self-promotion if they're an organization, let's say, we thought of it as a tool for aggregation and the idea being that we would create a Twitter account that would generate somewhere around 10 to 15 links a day, all of which would be the things that we're already reading and finding interesting that we wanna share with our audience. Being a journalist, a knowledge worker these days involves following 300 RSS feeds and lots of people on Twitter and being on lots of email lists as well as traditional reporting and it felt like a waste that we were doing all this work and reading all this information and our users, our readers, were not really getting the best benefit of it. We would come up with story ideas and they would get that benefit but we also just basically felt that as a by-product we could essentially serve an aggregation role. So we started this Twitter account and it's been enormously successful. We've got around 24,000 followers right now and at this point, probably somewhere in the area of 30% of our traffic comes straight from Twitter and that happens because we have dedicated ourselves to not just producing our own content but also being a smart aggregation source. So I think it's really difficult. I remember in 2001, I was an education reporter at the Dallas Morning News and I said, we should start an education blog and my boss was like, we should, what? But there is a very deep distrust of linking out in journalism still and it's a really tough thing for newspapers to wrap their heads around that. I think that newspapers in particular are still in a world where they really think that they or at least they hope that they can control the channel. They hope that they had a really nice deal where you would write a check once a year or once a month or they'd bill with easy pay to your credit card and you would have this information delivered to you every day and you had a dedicated audience that was just gonna keep reading your stuff. Inertia was on their side. Inertia is not on any newspaper company side now online because there are just way too many options. So I think the people who win online tend to be people who are accepting of the fact that the universe of information, no matter how specialized their beat, extends far beyond the work of their own reporters. And to be frank, that's why I've been disappointed in the degree to which newspaper companies have come around to the idea that linking out is okay, aggregating is okay. I don't know if that's primarily because they feel like doing that would hurt their case against other people who do it to them or whether it's really the sort of professional identity stuff I mentioned before. But I don't see that as being the place where a lot of the innovation in that field is gonna come. This is possibly more of a comment but I thought your comparison to what your perceived enthusiasm for new technology among journalists was compared to librarians. You're not quite comparing apples to oranges here. I deal with journalists every day. Librarians, if all the books disappear they're gonna enthusiastically embrace the internet because taxpayers are going to continue to pay them a salary. In newsrooms, the problem is some of the journalists are the most enthusiastic supporters of the internet you will ever find. The problem is they're no longer able to pay their rent and raise a family. And they're very justifiably so in a complete panic. As a lawyer, if all these things go belly up and there's lots of lawsuits I'm still gonna be able to earn a living because everybody's fighting. But if newsrooms go belly up they're journalists out there who are in a dead panic that they will no longer, well besides the fact that they can't raise a family doing what they had gone to school to be trained in. There's a profound lack of respect they perceive that nobody in this country, in this society we value things by paying for them. And you have a generation of enormously depressed individuals out there in newsrooms who think what the heck am I doing this for? Nobody's willing to pay for me, pay me for it anymore. It's more of a comment, I apologize. I do not disagree in any way that there are lots of panic journalists out there. I know many of them, I get job applications from all of them. I will say though that I, in doing our work, most of the work that we do is about identifying new business models for news. That's what we do, that's my full time job. And in doing that I have found that it's necessary to separate the human trauma that affects many intelligent, skilled, wonderful people and separate that away from trying to figure out a path forward. I don't at all disagree that there are plenty of journalists who are in a panic about the internet. I do question whether being in a panic about the internet and trying to shut it down is going to be an effective model going forward. And I would argue that all the energy that has been spent both at the individual journalist level and at the management level in essentially trying to roll back the clock to 1973 has not been productive, I would argue. And I just don't think that, I guess what I'm trying to say is that, yes it is an incredibly traumatizing time. I dare say I know that as well as you ma'am, but I would say that I don't think that focusing on that is going to help build the models that is going to allow people to have jobs and mortgages and kids going forward. I'm very happy to hear that you're working on this full time, what have you come up with? Nothing that's gonna save newspapers circa the year 2000. I just don't think that's gonna happen. I don't think that, let me put this way, when I got to the Dallas Morning News in the year 2000, which was sort of the peak in a lot of ways of the size of newspapers, the Morning News had a newsroom of 670 people, a lot of whom were, I mean all of whom were skilled, wonderful people. Now it's about 240 or so, somewhere around there, I don't know the exact numbers, but it's in the range of between a third and a half of what it used to be. I don't think that there are going to be any models that sustain one of those in Dallas. I just don't think there are gonna be, I think there are going to be a mixture of nonprofits to do a lot of the investigative work, small topic-based sites that will be able to focus on individual niches. I don't think newspapers are going away, I think they're just gonna keep getting smaller. I think that there's actually a better future for print than most people tend to think, and that there's going to be a continued market for people who want a print experience, and that newspapers are already in the process of charging more for those people, and they're happy to get more money out of those subscribers, and those subscribers aren't going away at the pace that some would have feared. Basically, I just don't think, I think that what happened in, this is an argument Clay Shirk and others have advanced, that what happened in the United States, where every major metropolitan area had one dominant paper that was huge, and bigger than, the Dallas Morning News newsroom was bigger than every newsroom in Europe. That doesn't necessarily make sense. I think those days were a historical accident, they're just not coming back. I think it's gonna be much many more pieces loosely joined to use a phrase that's been used here in the past. And quite frankly, I think the number of journalists who are paid upper middle class salaries is just gonna be less. I don't see, I would love to find a solution to that. I haven't, and I don't think it's gonna be found, but. Okay. Well, I won't be around for the rest of the afternoon, as you know, but. I have a question, right here. What are you going to do as a well-paid Neiman lab, whatever, creator, if the people whose work you aggregate, if those people have to go out of business, and as a result, you won't have, you may not have a business, because you're going to have to find people to create content for you. I mean, they may be aggregators at these news organizations, but some of them are very talented aggregators and using your term. And if all of these people ultimately can't afford to do this kind of work, does that affect you, and does it affect the public interest? Well, here's what I would say is that, obviously I've got a unique beat in covering the future of the news business, but I would say that, fake calculating a number right now, but I would say that, well over 80% of the content that we aggregate that is the most, what we think is the smartest and most interesting stuff on the future of news is not produced by daily newspapers. But let's take something that is, let's not take your example, but there are a lot of things that are online that are based almost exclusively on what other journalists have produced. Well, I have an RSS reader that has, gosh, 700 feeds in it or something. I did a test once to see how many of those feeds were produced by traditional journalists at mainstream news organizations, and it was around 5%. I think that it is not correct to say that there is not a huge universe of content that is being produced, much of it extremely good that is not being produced by sources other than traditional newspapers. And I will agree that there are specific areas where newspapers are really the key producer of information. And I would say that of those, I really care about coverage of state and local government, government school systems, that sort of thing. And that is an area where I think that we're gonna have newspapers that are smaller and I hope that they make the decision to continue covering those as a larger portion of what they do, as many of the other things they used to cover are now being done better by other folks. I would also think that non-profits and foundations are gonna have to play a role in that. And there are gonna be, there are already some interesting tactical startups starting out in the college towns and places where you could imagine those things would start up, that whether it's the Ann Arbor Chronicle or West Seattle blog or other things that do a pretty darn good job of covering their local governments. I would just say that I'm nervous about that stuff, but I think it's disingenuous to claim that that stuff is more than say, 8%, 10% of what newspapers produce. The Dallas Morning News had 2,000 employees when I got there, 2,000 employees. How many of those people were being watched dogs of government? It was about a dozen. And I think the question is, how do you figure out a way to support those dozen people, not how do you figure out a way to try and subsidize a 2,000 person company that is not going to be what survives in this realm? So Josh, we're gonna have to end it now. But this topic will be discussed in the third panel. Lucy is one of the panelists and I know that this is something she'll wanna talk about. So this will not be the end of that conversation, nor will today be the end of that conversation for sure. Thank you, Josh.