The Press: Britain’s Newspapers

There are any number of things which can make publishing an immensely unprofitable business. One big one is to have the cost of paper rise (many a U. S. publisher felt the pinch when newsprint rose from $42.50 to $50 a ton in 1938). Another is curtailed advertising. A third, most dangerous in the long run, is losing the confidence of the public. Last week British publishers were squeezed in all three directions.

Newsprint. The pre-war price of newsprint in Great Britain was £11 55 a ton. Immediately after war began it jumped to £17. Last week, at £21 108 ($86), newsprint’s price had almost doubled (while in the U. S. newsprint still sold for $50). A further rise to £25 had been ordered by the Ministry of Supply for July 1, but after the invasion of Norway (two-thirds of Britain’s newsprint came from Scandinavia, the rest from Canada and Newfoundland) the increase was expected to take effect immediately.

Cost was not the only trouble. Scarcity had resulted in voluntary reductions in the size of newspapers. Penny papers, like the Daily Mail and Daily Express, which used to run from 16 to 20 pages, were months ago reduced to twelve, the great twopenny London Times to 16. By last week all dailies including the Times were down to an average of ten pages, twelve on Sundays. With only a 300,000-ton reserve of newsprint, a ten-week supply of pulp for Britain’s mills, a publishers’ agreement to reduce all papers to six pages was momentarily expected. Newsdealers are no longer permitted to return unsold papers and it is often practically impossible to buy a morning paper unless one has a standing order with a newsdealer.

Advertisers. Like editorial space, advertising space has had to be reduced, and premium rates are often charged for advertisements more than two columns wide. Rates were raised some time ago because of higher printing costs. Last week 13 dailies agreed to raise the rates another 25% on May 1. If advertising does not shrink further, it too may be rationed. Meanwhile, many advertisers are turning to billboards.

Public Trust. Mass-Observation is an organization founded three years ago in Britain by a young biologist and a young poet. Part social club, part scientific society, its members with the aid of some paid employes conduct on an amateur scale something vaguely resembling FORTUNE’S survey. They publish their findings in a periodical titled Us. In a recent issue Us reported that “mistrust of the newspapers is a commonplace with every section of the population.”

Us found that 44% of Great Britain’s people felt they were not getting all the news; only 40% were satisfied with what they got. Of these, 4% thought there was too much news: i. e., too much bad news. Blamed by most Britons was “the Government” or “Mr. Chamberlain.” But whoever was blamed, the press took the consequences.

Us pointed to at least 17 newsletters that have sprung up in the last few years (ten since war began), each reflecting the opinions of one man, all purporting to give “inside information.” Biggest now is the King-Hall newsletter (circulation 52,000).

Significance. All these things are rapidly changing the character of the British press. Not only are papers getting flimsy: there has been talk of upping penny papers to 1½d. As a defense against the newsletters, at least seven British papers now feature dope columns, described by Us as a compound of “spy-stuff, gossip, and the Vicar’s letter in the parish magazine.” There are even whispers that the Times, after 155 years, may print no advertising on its front page—a change already made by the Daily Mail.

Other possible consequences may be even more lasting: permanent loss of public confidence in the press (shaken four years ago when for months no British paper mentioned the friendship between Edward VIII and Mrs. Simpson); financial ruin for great British papers and publishers.