The Register, like many newspapers, may be a brontosaurus gazing up into the expanding shadow of a meteor. Current newsprint prices? Ouch. Ad revenues? Sliding. Circulation? Flat-lined. Subscribers aren't being replaced because, as we say, "Kids don't read." Dude, why should I buy an unwieldy, unhip, retro, boring rehash when I can get news instantly online? The Registeralso has huge circulation churn, something like 30,000 a month. These are the customers who subscribe for the good-deal eight-week discount and then disloyally drop when asked to pay full price. And what are we to do about the Hispanics and the Vietnamese who will soon be half the population in OC? Generally speaking, they don't take the Register.
At the other end, the owners aren't budging on the profit margin. The libertarian odd ducks who founded the old Santa Ana Register have long since passed on to a stateless, tax-free Nirvana where they sit at the feet of Ms. Rand. The remaining Hoileses are not Hearsts and have no hands-on interest in newspapers. Some of the bean counters at Register "town meetings" darkly suggest the Hoileses might one day look at a more profitable return on investment. The implication is that for reasons of job security, the generous family cut off the top is the first consideration.
Right now, the Register is facing these problems through the process of a newsroom-wide "rethinking." This consists of focus groups, consultants, pollsters, questionnaires at the fair and brown-bag meetings for the staff. How can the Register attract new subscribers without chasing away the core readership? The "core readership" is Register code for the nub of loyal South County subscribers—elderly, white, conservative, morally square—that columnist Gordon Dillow speaks to as he goes about (as somebody said jokingly) comforting the comfortable and afflicting the afflicted.
Actually, the re-noodling so far only amounts to another makeover, the hope that there's some typographical formula that will hook loyal customers. All the focus groups on the iceberg situation have apparently asked the stewards to rearrange the deck chairs—by redesigning the front page. When the prototype went up on the corkboard in October, reporters reacted with almost universal revulsion. I did, too. It's an ugly pastiche, cluttered with confusing daubs of color and tiny graphics, cooked up by designers under the thrall of magazines like Gear and Stuff. However, I later came around 180 degrees and now think the concept, at least, might make sense. The new front page will look like a screen, à la Slate or Salon. A wide swath of briefs (to be called a "Finder") will run down the right side, summarizing the main news nuggets for the hurried reader. At the top will be a redesigned flag, meaning a different typeface subbed in for the Old English-style "Registerred" logo. According to a recent memo, all this will be revealed to the public gradually, so as not to alarm the change-resistant core readership. The brain trust is also flirting with the idea of slamming ads along the bottom of the front page, something that will cause actual vomiting in the newsroom.
Now, enjoying the detachment that comes from leisure, I think I see the future of Register news: pared-down and pap-rich. It makes sense. For most reporters, the Register has never been a destination paper. In the four years I was aboard, most of the prize-winning reporters left for better jobs, including Dawn Chmielewski, Dan Weintraub, Debra Gordon, Susan Kelleher, David Parrish, Guillermo Garcia, Stuart Pfeifer, Mai Tran, Kim Christensen, Jean Pasco and on and on. It doesn't matter. Junior widgets just out of college can produce plenty of product to keep the ads from bumping, and they're inexpensive and docile. The brain trust will focus on what's easy: police blotter, court decisions, school board and city council. They'll assign a lot of maudlin Bermudas: "Breast Cancer Survivor Helps Other Victims." Management will cut the overhead by throttling back on investigations and travel and demanding more outsourcing. The Register has already outsourced the telemarketers who call at dinner time with a special offer. It may be Orange County's newspaper, but that sales call will emanate from a boiler room in Tallahassee or New Delhi if it's cheaper. Maybe it has to be that way for the Register to stay solvent in the much-referenced competitive market. Frankly, Ms. O'Hara, I can't worry about it. I feel like I've already done what I can.
