Margita Thompson: Shrinking pool of Capitol reporters is not good news

Instead of declaring victory as the state Capitol press corps diminishes, many officials are suffering from a strange kind of Stockholm syndrome: What do you do when the hostage survives but the captors cease to exist?

As a press secretary, you form a perversely symbiotic relationship with reporters: To be effective, you must think like a journalist. When I was the press secretary for the governor, the Capitol press corps was my sounding board, tormentor and microphone. I was fortunate when Arnold Schwarzenegger was elected. It was a renewed zenith for the media, with bureaus opening and multiple reporters assigned from single media outlets to cover us.

Times have changed: In 2004, we issued 440 press credentials; last year, that number had declined to 240; and, in 2008, it is fewer than 100.

I saw directly how the press corps' collective institutional knowledge and perspective added value to the public discourse. The stress of making sure I was prepared to answer their questions made me query officials internally, resulting in deliberations that often drove policy action. But with the advent of corporate financial concerns blurring the line with the newsroom, the seasoned Capitol bureau reporter is becoming extinct.

As newspapers have focused on their bottom lines, they have eliminated savvy veteran reporters who were battle-tested and who knew how things worked.

Print reporters have a unique ability to make an impact on elected officials because their stories are so tangible and portable. They easily induce politicians to obsess over their clips.

The decline of the print reporter may be seen as a sign of the times. But they take with them the historical perspective and investigative resources distinctively provided by newspapers. Fewer reporters will mean more work for those who are left, and larger beats to cover will translate into degraded expertise.

There will be more standardization of stories, as wire services and media families diminish the local angles that provided a community connection. Government staff may think they suffer through pack reporting now, but soon there will be few journalists left with enough time or long-term background to change the direction of coverage. That's to the officials' advantage when they are doing well and riding high in the polls, but it can be really tough when things are not going their way, such as after a less-than-successful special election.

Reporters will rely less on sources and more on routine professional pundits because there is less turnover there than in elective office. The few minutes provided by TV news or radio is no substitute for the in-depth coverage that served a broader public purpose.

It wouldn't hurt for print reporters to focus more on their reader and less on the competition with each other – a motivation that leads to the belief that if a competitor has written a story already, the topic should be ignored. Get over it! If fewer people are reading your paper, they probably didn't read your competitor's story, either. Readers need more than one story on any given policy.

Reporters are increasingly put in the awkward position of being motivated not solely by objective analysis but rather by the need to generate readers – much like TV is driven by ratings. So we can expect more salacious gossip by hard news reporters, but less about boring stories such as the policy implications of the budget or health care. I received more calls about the governor's motorcycle accident and his fat lip than I ever did about California's water crisis. News consumers can expect more of the same.

So, as the Capitol press corps dwindles, we may all end up hostage to a sensationalized media, where we choose to read about and listen to what we agree with, watch what entertains us and leave what might educate us in the dustbin with the newspaper.

About the writer:

• Margita Thompson, former press secretary for Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, is the vice president for corporate communications for HealthNet, a Woodland Hills-based health-maintenance organization.