What happens when a disruptive journalism is – itself – running the risk of being disrupted?

I ask this question as I wonder if it’ll be possible for us to properly understand even the near-future’s pace of change – before it knocks us for a massive six.

I’ve already discussed elsewhere Uber’s probable long-term goal of wanting to be first in, on the process they could be aiming to kickstart of privatising city governance.

Jonathan suggests that ideas like chester.wiki is now moving towards might lead to the ultimate elimination of county councillors, as citizens click and tap their way directly to the information and decisions which once were mediated:

Meanwhile, I struggle (as I know nothing about the subject of data journalism – but it shouldn’t be all that difficult, surely …) to even find the open data my own local council, Cheshire West & Chester, should want to be providing:

I’ll give them a couple of days, though – sadly – I’m not holding my breath …

The problem, I suppose, for councillors who are aware of the dangers for local party control and vested interests of all kinds (which they may or may not see themselves forming a part of), is that they might conclude opening up their data to projects like chester.wiki as potentially undermining – one day, a long way down the line – their power of patronage: unaware as they are that if it’s not done – managed! – sooner or later at local level, organisations like Uber will sweep in via national and transnational smart-city projects, and simply eliminate local governance as we have know it.  In much the same way as they have been doing to traditional taxi services for a number of years now.

Want a clearer idea of how disruptive disruptive can get if you ignore it?  Look at this checklist of services you can now get in an Uber kind of way … and then do your very best to try and think more innovatively:


And of course, to finish, back to the question I pose in today’s title: for it may not just be the councils.

It occurs to me that the nascent, possibly fragile, certainly still undefined hyperlocal communities out there could also begin to form part of a series of vested interests.

The question I’d ask would, as a result, be as follows: how quickly can such interests grow up – even around a “business model” (ie what we generally call and understand to be hyperlocal journalism) which is currently looking to pick up the spilt milk from the local and regional mainstream newspaper industry?

How innovative and truly “sharing” will it remain; alternatively, how “businesslike” (read private bureaucracy and control, perhaps?) might it eventually become?

It’d certainly be an irony if people in hyperlocal were affected, suddenly, almost immediately, by a sharing economy they had simply chosen to forget about.  It’d be a tad sad too: a lot of time, effort, thought and intelligence is going into the making of new business models at the moment.  But on the other hand, once upon a time, a lot of time, effort and intelligence went into the making of mainstream journalism – and look where that has ended up getting it?


Update to this post: I got a rapid response from Cheshire West & Chester this very same morning, for which I am very grateful.  They did actually provide me with a lovely stats & data page, whose implications and application I’m clearly going to need a course to get my head round (not their fault), but in relation to RSS feeds etc (surely fairly simple tech to implement), the dialogue wasn’t so positive:

So as you can see, if there was an interest in providing the services they might consider it.  Problem is how exactly they’d measure it.  I’d be interested, myself, in wondering how an “RSS consultation” might go down with the general public – probably nowhere, right?

Oh for a Leeds City Data Mill approach … so how about it, Cheshire West & Chester?  How about we anticipate needs and be more open than we need to?


What happens when a disruptive journalism is – itself – running the risk of being disrupted?