Celebrating Excellence in Journalism

I was just about to switch off the fairly dull and confused SBS telecast of the Walkley Awards tonight when it suddenly got interesting.

A well-known journalist with whom I have a passing acquaintance was physically attacked by another well-known journalist with whom I used to work and socialise. On national television. Stephen Mayne, of the internet media/politics/business website crikey.com.au, was barreled on stage by News Ltd's political correspondent Glenn Milne.

(Barreled is perhaps too strong a word. Milne is these days certainly barrel chested, but his stumpy little legs prevent much momentum)

Anyway, it kept me watching. A good old-fashioned drunken journos' brawl. Possibly it doesn't confer great credibility on the craft of journalism to do it, live, in front of the cream of the industry, on its night of nights, before a national audience, but there you are.

Mayne, having been shoved from the stage by Milne, and then seconds later having leapt from it to avoid a second charge, recovered his composure well with a few amusing ripostes. Milne, dragged away by the floor manager and reportedly thrown out of the awards dinner by security staff, may think better of his precipitate actions by morning.

Within minutes of the amazing spectacle, reports and pictures of Milne's unedifying behaviour were all over key news websites (especially Fairfax ones). They showed a short, fat man with his shirttails hanging out, being frogmarched away. Not a great look.

I used to see Glenn on the road when we were both journos in Brisbane - he at the Telegraph, me at the ABC, both of us at the Journalists' Club in Bowen Hills. Years later I filled in for him as the Seven Network's Canberra correspondent during his holidays (it was, incidentally, the week of the Thredbo disaster - Glenn was staying in the lodge next to the one that was buried in a landslide. Does trouble follow this man?).

He has had professional and personal issues with Mayne for some time. This is no secret, and has been extensively chronicled in Crikey. Mayne's earnestness, self-obsession and frequent lack of regard for the consequences of his actions can be tedious and taxing. But the sight of Milne trying - at some length - to pick a fight, on-stage, at a supposedly prestigious event, was at best unbecoming, risible, and in a professional sense, idiotic.

Move on, Glenn. Use your journalistic talents to distinguish yourself. And you might want to think about giving away the grog, too.

Rove's loss leaves a lesson in life

We all knew deep down that cancer was going to claim Belinda Emmett.

Despite the positive airs, every time she was seen in public with her husband, TV host Rove McManus, she looked progressively more unwell. And the intervals between her public appearances have seemed to grow longer and longer.

The photo essays now being published on many online media websites underline how she ailed. Older publicity pictures show a full-faced girl, while later images reveal her painful wastage.

But her loss need not be totally in vain.

How brave this young couple were, how devoted they must have been, marrying despite the knowledge that their union was doomed, probably much sooner rather than later.

One feels they may have enjoyed more love, warmth and intimacy in their 22 months of marriage than many others do in 22 years.

Their dedication to one another, and their decision to formally declare that dedication through marriage, is a valuable lesson in how to live life unencumbered by the spectre of what might happen.

News, but not as we knew it

Nine's flagship 6pm news bulletin - once a proud and unchallenged leader - is now testing out overseas formats in an effort to revive its flagging fortunes.

Tonight's lead story covered the effect of the Reserve Bank Board's decision to lift interest rates by a quarter of a per cent. Instead of a packaged tape story comprising interview grabs and voiceover behind relevant overlay footage, we had reporter Wayne Dyer standing in the studio, delivering the entire report directly to camera, save for the soundbites of interviewees.

It's a technique borrowed from British news bulletins. But it's a retrograde step. Leave aside for the moment the question of whether a reporter such as Dyer should be allocated such an important story. The format - where the reporter is in a controlled and sterile environment - means the background of the shot can be devoted to graphics, such as charts, figures and tables. But these were partly obscured by Dyer in the foreground.

As well, it removes the reporter from where he is supposed to be - in the field, on the road, gathering the news, talking to the people who matter. Dyer's script may as well have been cut & pasted direct from wire copy written by someone else (and probably was, at least in part). He never had to leave the comfort of the newsroom.

But most of all, the story becomes the reporter, and the reporter becomes the story. No relevant shots of houses, suburbs, construction, families, or banks. It looks cheap - probably because it is. The field camera crew and tape editor who otherwise would have been deployed to produce Dyer's story could be used elsewhere. The studio crew and control room facilities usually idle until late afternoon could be pressed into service.

It's a business model that pleases the accountants. But it's one that shaves another slice from the substance of good television journalism.