Ann Althouse has an interesting discussion of a Times piece about why dyslexics become entrepreneurs, and she asks a good question:

I love these stories of how people find special powers in their mental deficiencies. (Oliver Sacks is a master at presenting material of this kind.)

Bonus topic: What are the mental deficiencies that prevail in the world of blogging?

What I'm fascinated by now is my inability to ignore problems that I probably should ignore, but can't. That drives the blog, and I often see the mechanics of blogging as analogous to the game of Tetris, a game which cannot possibly be won. The goal is not winning, but getting better at postponing the inevitable defeat. (All issues of "getting to the truth" and other possible virtues notwithstanding....)

As I observed recently, anything you write about will cause you to not write about the many other things which are also worth writing about. The more you write, the more you neglect. But of course, the less you write, the more you neglect. And if you think that you are fixing anything by writing about it, you will likely be wrong, because even things that you think you have "fixed" do not stay fixed. I like to keep in mind my "exposé" of Capitol Hill Blue as an example. Any thought I might have had that by exposing (discrediting, debunking, whatever) a bogus "news site," that I might defeat it or make it go away was silly, as not only is there a First Amendment right to crank out bogus news and a right to promulgate lies, but there is no shortage of gullible readers to consume them. (So another determined blogger came along years later attempting to stake the same vampire I thought I had already staked, and it will probably happen again and again.) Blogging does not really fix things -- not for good. On the other hand, if you like to tinker and you enjoy a challenge, there's no shortage of challenges out there.

In addition to the Internet, the daily newspaper and the television are like a dart board of issues for blogging. Just pick anything. But remember, you'll be neglecting everything else while you do!

Using today's Inquirer as a dartboard, I found an interesting quote about a favorite topic for bloggers: journalism. In this case, it's a review of a film about student journalists at Penn State. We often stereotype students as starry-eyed young idealists out to save the world, and many students who want to be journalists would certainly seem to supply support for the stereotype. What intrigued me about the piece was the apparent area of agreement between the Penn State students in the film and the Inquirer reporter about the purpose of journalism:

The students in The Paper may skip classes left and right to pursue their journalistic duties and passions, but they are not journalism nerds.

And they are probably a little more lovable in their youthful struggle to do the right thing than some of us more seasoned journalists, but they care just as much as we do about the two age-old problems of journalism: How to provide readers with what they want and what they need.

But what about dyslexia? Say what you will, but I think "dyslexic journalism" has an oxymoronic ring to it. (I'd say the field would be mostly barred to them.)

On the other hand, what if "what they want" is plenty of blood and gore? Or sexual titillation? Sports? Hate? Spirituality? Wealth?

Where is the distinction between what they want and what they need? Does this go to the purpose of a newspaper? I might not want to know that a huge storm is due to hit the area tomorrow, but I certainly need to know about it so I don't get trapped in it.

To continue with the entrepreneur model, are journalists supposed to be catering to the wants and needs of their readers? Or are they supposed to be creating wants and needs for them? Many entrepreneurs have become successful not by selling people what they want, but by offering something new that they never realized that they might want. And want has a sneaky way of crossing over in the human mind to the need section. (I think most of us have purchased things we thought we needed, but which on reflection it turned out we only wanted.)

Are bloggers doing the same thing as journalists and entrepreneurs and either finding wants and needs and catering to them or creating new wants and needs? Does this touch on what we call "providing a service"? If so, what is the service? In theory, conventional news reporting is supposed to be providing the service of reporting news, right? People want news, but should they have a role in determining what news is reported based on what they like? I'm thinking that speaking in terms of "wants" and "needs" might not be precise, and it might depend on how many people want news that conforms to their tastes, as opposed to how many want to get what Joe Friday used to call "just the facts, Maam."

I think that a general distinction between bloggers and straight reporters is that the former offer opinions, and they make no bones about what they think, while the latter are supposed to adhere to something called a "code of journalism" which frowns on the presentation of opinions as facts. Because many bloggers (and I'm no exception) are often obsessed with distinguishing between fact and opinion, bloggers are cast in the role of being watchdogs constantly sniffing out opinions concealed as facts, then howling in the hope the world will hear them. Considering the dishonesty inherent in presenting opinions as facts, they often howl quite loudly, thus creating constant tension between bloggers and journalists who are caught violating their code.

But in light of stated goals of the budding journalists at Penn State, maybe bloggers have it all wrong. If the goal of journalism is to serve up "what they want and what they need," and if what they want and what they need are determined with reference to sales, things like a lack of credibility and concealed biases might be peripheral issues.

After analyzing how the students struggled to find stories that would interest the readers (a gay kiss fest was a real attention grabber, natch), the Inquirer concluded with a vague reference to doing "the right thing":

These kids are fascinating as they struggle to do what they think is the right thing both for their publication and for the public.

We professionals may not be quite so charismatic, but we're struggling, too.

My biggest problem with hidden bias stems from my aversion to being led. Ideally, I don't like being led at all, but it's when I feel tricked, misled, or manipulated that I really get my hackles up.

I'm worried that some journalists think that "doing the right thing" consists not of reporting, but in leading the minds of their readers.

This may have the effect of generating tension with readers (to say nothing of bloggers), because many people recoil at having their minds led by people they want to trust as straight-shooting information providers.

If someone wants to lead me, I simply want that fact disclosed, so I can decide whether I should follow. That used to be the purpose of editorials.