A second opinion on pajama journalism™.
Well, it's been weeks since I've kicked sand in the face of that 98-pound weakling, the mass media.
To rectify this oversight, today we'll pick on our old friend and perennial whipping boy, pajama journalism™. (No, I haven't really trademarked "pajama journalism", but I should probably try.) Remember pajama journalism? It's the latest thing in reporting, thanks to the Digital Age. Pajama journalism is journalism you can do in your pajamas. No need to leave your house to get the story. No need to rub shoulders with the great sweaty masses you're reporting on and to. No more of that inconvenient, old-tech shoe-leather journalism that's so Woodward and Bernstein. Just rummage through your email in-basket or pull some quotes off the Internet and call it a day.
We'll look at a recent piece of pajama journalism that gives home buyers advice on how to get financing in the constricted credit marketplace. The writer, a syndicated real estate reporter, kicks things off with some snappy hyperbole designed to sell the piece. As a bonus, the snappy hyperbole diverts attention from the fact that the story will be based mainly if not entirely on content available to anyone who has an email in-basket or Internet access. This particular snappy hyperbole sounds a whole lot like the snappy hyperbole this reporter's been dealing for years but then, every writer has his own signature. (Why are you looking at me like that?)
The snappy hyperbole takes care of the first nine paragraphs. Isn't pajama journalism fun? Right away you can see its appeal!
Next the reporter inserts a quote from a real estate agent, President-elect of the local Board of Realtors®. The quote comes from (choose one):
1. a rigorous question-and-answer session the reporter conducted in the agent's office, where they sat down and talked for hours about the state of real estate.
2. a lengthy and in-depth phone interview with the agent.
3. a brief phone interview with the agent.
4. a press release from the Board of Realtors, which was emailed to the reporter.
Correct answer? Who knows? Hey, I don't expect every reporter to tell us how he or she acquired every quote, but it might be significant that this one makes a point of prefacing an interview of the same agent a few months later with the information that they "sat down to a question-and-answer session". So is it Pajamas 1, Shoe Leather 0, or vice versa? So far, we can't tell.
Next the reporter injects a quote from an official with the California Association of Realtors. The quote comes from (choose one):
1. a rigorous question-and-answer session the reporter conducted in the official's office, where they sat down and talked for hours about the state of real estate.
2. a lengthy and in-depth phone interview with the official.
3. a brief phone interview with the official.
4. the state association's latest press release, found on the association's Web site.
This time I know the answer: number 4.
This takes care of the next seven paragraphs. Good ol' pajama journalism!
Next the reporter quotes extensively from an online Federal Reserve publication, "How Can You Speed Up the Approval of the Loan?" This takes care of eight of the remaining nine paragraphs of the story.
So far, so good, at least for the cause of modern journalism. However, the Fed's publication has two pearls of wisdom, repeated verbatim by the reporter, that catch my eye and raise my ire.
One is the suggestion that a buyer "bring a purchase contract for the house when you sit down to complete an application. You may no longer have the luxury of securing purchase money and then looking for a house. Mortgage underwriting terms and the lender's whim could change after you secure credit, while you hunt for a home. Bring a property for sale to the table."
To which I smartly replied, "Huh?" Because this suggestion breaks an unwritten rule in force in this area since at least 1998: know how much house you can buy before you even look, let alone make an offer. This keeps everyone involved in the home-buying process from wasting valuable time. And because it's a time-honored custom here, few if any local sellers are willing to get in contract with a buyer who hasn't bothered to find out what—or even if—he can buy.
But things change, especially these days, so I asked the loan agent who sits in the next cubicle for his considered opinion.
"What an idiot!", he said.
Prompted by his measured response, I read this loan agent the part about securing a rate lock. "Once you are approved for a mortgage, secure a written guarantee for an interest rate, points and other terms." I said I thought it was almost impossible to get a rate lock until and unless you were in contract. He said, "One or two lenders offer rate locks before you're in contract. It's called 'shop and lock', but it carries a premium and it's usually not beneficial".
Which makes you wonder a little, no, not about pajama journalism, but about the Fed (Fed™?). This is the agency in the forefront of the gubmint's fight to save real estate?
But there's little to wonder about pajama journalism. Its benefits to the journalist are obvious, its benefits to the public, less so.