When the Liverpool Echo published a blank front page earlier this month, it alighted upon a novel way of launching an age-old concept - the reader survey.
This eye-catching device and the accompanying social media hashtag, "TellAli" [Alastair Machray, the paper's Editor], were clearly designed to generate maximum interest. Moreover, the highly personal tone of the appeal for views suggested that this was far from a superficial stunt.
Whether by dent of audience research or gut instinct, the paper's questions indicated that it already had an idea of where it might be going wrong - namely, its daily diet of crime stories and a broader failure to portray the city as one which has evolved beyond recognition in the last twenty years. To its credit, the Echo has given its critics a prominent platform to air both their anticipated grievances and others which it might not have seen coming.
The issues raised have relevance both for the provincial press and all news outlets operating at a local and regional level. The consensus seems to be that crime stories do, indeed, dominate the paper - to the extent that they have a detrimental effect on its likeability amongst locals and the impression it gives of the city to the outside world. Potentially alienating readers is obviously of concern, but this assessment also begs the question as to whether it is the responsibility of the local press to sell its area in a positive light or simply to reflect what is happening on a daily basis.
All media with a local focus needs to present an affinity for the locality it serves and be prepared to defend it when it comes under unjustified attack. That is part and parcel of forging a strong local identity, both to the benefit of the outlet and its audience. Yet there is a fine line between celebrating success and serving up an anodised alternate world, divorced from reality.
In broadcast, the geographical spread of regional television sometimes leads to the perception that an area is only visited when the worst has happened. Whereas the community feel of local radio means it has to guard against the risk of presenting a picture of a nauseatingly perfect corner of the planet, which listeners might not necessarily recognise.
For the most part, all sectors of the local media landscape deftly navigate this tightrope, offering just the right balance of light and shade. As for the Echo, concerns about a preponderance of crime stories overlook the fact that their presence at least means the paper is not participating in the slow death of court reporting. Their prominence is something which might be worth reconsidering - as is the use of the gutter tabloid word "caged" instead of "jailed", which should be outlawed in the forthcoming revamp.
The other main criticism to have arisen from the #TellAli consultation relates to the paper's football coverage. Buried beneath accusations of bias and theories regarding why neither of the city's Premier League teams is the success it might be (hint: maybe they are just not good enough), lies a more important point.
Several respondents have bemoaned the lack of 'investigation' into the teams' financial affairs. Such endeavours are costly to mount and, crucially, offer no guarantee of anything to show for the commitment. Provincial newspapers - like local/regional broadcasters - sadly cannot afford to have the equivalent of The Times' Insight team sitting in the corner, generating one big story a year. Yet it is testimony to the determination of much of the local press that the proud journalistic tradition of off-diary investigations continues.
In an age when institutions, corporations and the people who populate them are more combative than ever, such reportage is particularly fraught. Local media are inherently reliant on the goodwill of those individuals and organisations which are potential investigative targets and to dig deeply is to run the risk of souring relations - as evidenced by the introduction of "preferred media partners" at Newcastle United press conferences and the refusal of the West Midlands Police and Crime Commissioner's office to answer questions from a persistent reporter.
The Echo itself also has good form for attracting the ire of those in positions of power. It doggedly pursued the story of Liverpool City Council's joint venture project with BT and Private Eye recently reported that one of the paper's journalists allegedly became persona non grata with the local authority after revelations about the purchase of the iconic Cunard building. The problem for the Echo is the shadow cast by its now defunct sister, the Liverpool Post, which had a particularly enviable reputation for investigative work. It was suggested that this mantle - like that of heavyweight political and business analysis - would be taken up by the Echo when the Post closed in 2013. Unfortunately, only the current business coverage really bears comparison.
On balance, the Echo's self-flagellation and withering reader criticism (some of which has been hilarious) seem rather unwarranted. The exercise has undoubtedly been a genuine and worthwhile one and improvements will no doubt follow, but all such interactions have the potential to engage only those who are already engaged. The consultation was never presented as a way of stemming, at the Echo, the circulation falls which have the beset the regional press. However, the debate did seem focused on the print product and, whilst that will always be my favoured method of consumption, the age range of those who scoff at the idea of buying a hard copy of any paper grows ever wider.
So whatever shape the 'new Echo' takes, the hope must be that it maintains and strengthens the foundations of solid local journalism which underpin it. The role of local media is defined by contrasting duties - reporting the relevant, both positive and negative, and being a champion of the area when it is merited and a critical voice when it falls short. It is worth acknowledging that these building blocks of local journalism remain in place at the Echo and elsewhere - in spite of the shifting sands beneath.
