Pan Macmillan’s Digital Manifesto of Doom

Don't Panic

During the current Doctor Who story, The Doctor and Catherine Tate have ended up in the biggest library in the universe. “People never really stopped liking books,” The Doctor comments, giving an optimistic point-of-view for publishers everywhere. However, reading Pan Macmillan’s ‘Book Publisher’s Manifesto for the 21st Century‘ it would seem that the book is as dead as the Dodo and no amount of DNA jiggerypokery will bring it back to life. Sara Lloyd’s piece is an interesting, if wordy (it’s heavy on the 2.0 marketing lingo) wake-up-and-smell-the-digital-coffee call for publishers everywhere.

Amongst the long tails, vertical niches, and prosumers, Lloyd raises some very pertinent points. This is a world beyond the eBook reader, where everything is online, accessible from any device. It’s not far off. Distribution will become irrelevant, Search will be king and the content of a piece will have to be networked to every other piece of content. Your book is no longer a unit, it’s a fluid gathering of information that changes the more people write and comment on it. Publishers therefore need to safeguard the information that they distribute, but if readers want that information and authors want to be read, why bother with a publisher in the first place?

Alright, let’s assume that the whole publishing landscape was level. Everything would be User Generated Content, distributed everywhere. Where would you start? With Search perhaps, so you’d need at least a subject heading. You find a piece of writing on a subject you like, you note the original author’s name. Only, this piece was first written 100 years ago and has been modified, mashed-up and hacked about so many times that the original no longer exists. How does that make you feel? Does it matter?

From a historical perspective it matters entirely. Keeping of the past is key to learning in the future, a constantly altering text is not a fixed point, therefore you have nothing to compare the ‘now’ to. How would you learn? Preservation is therefore part of what a publisher needs to address in order to offer something unique to the digital table. It’s all very well to make a book’s content available for manipulation, to allow ‘generation upload’ to play and comment, yet conservation must also be maintained. It may not be ‘now’, but it’s state is kept as an asset both intellectually and commercially.

In Lloyd’s manifesto crowdsourcing will become an absolute must of the future. She writes: as a new generation of readers interacts with texts online publishers will be wise to place themselves in a position to harness the network data and collective intelligence produced by social annotation and media creation, the sum of the “Wisdom of Crowds,” and to apply this to its future content development and to its marketing. Cisco Networks are currently showing this in a TV ad. Wise old man builds skateboard, he gives skateboard to skateboarders, they refine the product by altering the look, the wheels, sawing a bit off, all results transmitted over the internet. Wise old man takes board to the, erm, company board, big smiles and high-fives all round (one imagines). It’s a simplified view of crowdsourcing, so much so it’s more like an author nervously punting a few first drafts around to his mates waiting for reaction and considering changing it accordingly. Crowdsourcing has its inherent problems, generating interest is one, will people like your product enough to care? And hey, if they’re supplying all this input to you, shouldn’t you be paying them? And finally, anyone who watches ITV should know how easy it is to rig the results of a crowdsourced decision. What’s to stop the Wise old man telling the skateboarders that they’re actually wrong and that it should be done another way? Nothing… after all, the crowd hasn’t said it will buy your product, it’s just a tiny bit more likely to.

Lloyd comments: There will still be a place for that deeply immersive solitary reading I hope in the future. Notice the emphasis is on reading and not writing, the author doesn’t seem to enter into it… The manifesto seems to suggest that content can still originate from authors while at the same time forecasting the death of the single unit book. Well, surely the author will have something to say about this? You don’t spend years lovingly crafting your masterpiece only to have others change it into something they prefer. Also notice she uses the word ‘hope’, it’s all so gloomily prophetic!

It’s not only the book and author as units we need to watch, but also the publishers. We’re moving from a world where the consumer didn’t care about a publisher’s name to one where the publisher will have to stand up speak out to avoid getting swallowed by bigger media agencies. Not only that but in order to create new revenue streams via direct selling, people will need to know who you are. If you don’t have a brand identity, maybe it’s time to get one. That doesn’t stop you working with other media partners, but from an intellectual and conservation perspective publishers will still have a standalone job to do. Publishers become guardians, authorities, they make recommendations, as Lloyd puts it the input will be more qualitative.

Pan Macmillan’s manifesto has certainly been a thought-provoking exercise in talking about the future of publishing (and driving more people to your blog). However the destruction of the singular book, the singular author and the singular publisher is by no means as guaranteed as the doomsayers believe.

John Rivers

Thu, 5 Jun 2008, 11:44 AM

10 Comments

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Comments

Thanks for adding this interesting and thoughtful series of comments to the debate which my article seems to have sparked.

One of the reasons I wrote is was to stir people in the publishing industry out of their lethargy a bit and provoke some debate.

I guess I thought that writing something along the lines of, “Don’t worry too much. Everything will probably be OK. Let’s all continue assuming books won’t be affected by digital even though every other aspect of our lifestyle pursuits has been turned on its head. And let’s just bury our heads in the sand and ignore the potential power of Google, Amazon and the like to disintermediate publishers” wouldn’t have been particularly stimulating.

Ask anyone who knows me to offer you one word that describes me and they will probably say, “Hopelessly optimistic.” (OK. That’s two words). So, I didn’t write this to be ‘gloomy’ or to ‘doom-monger’.

I wrote it because I am passionate about books, about the future of writing and reading, and because I believe publishers do fulfil very useful functions but that to continue to do so they need to engage much more actively both in the digital debate and the digital landscape.

My point about books becoming more ‘porous’ isn’t designed to imply that all books will seep endlessly into each other or that there will no longer be a beginning, middle and end to a really good story; more that publishers (and indeed old school book reviewers) have to date largely been too arrogant to recognise the significance and passion of the online ‘conversation’ that is going on around and between and about books. They just haven’t engaged with it.

I won’t answer all your points one by one, but I did want to respond to your post. I acknowledge that what I have said sometimes appears extreme; but I was trying to explore the extreme possibilities in order to push people out of their comfort zones a bit.

I can’t say I agree with everything in Sara Lloyd’s ‘Manifesto’ but at least I could understand it and understand the debate she has managed to engender. I’m sure your (John’s) riposte is clear, insightful and constructive but I simply couldn’t follow its logic. In one sentence, what are you trying to say? Your last sentence appears to have meaning but it is eluding me. Please help.

P.S. Is the remark about ‘driving people to your blog’ meant to be clever or simply rude?

P.P.S. I should declare an interest. I have worked with Sara and think she’s doing a great job for Macmillan.

I write as one of the few publishers to have already established a brand so am exceptionally optimistic about the role of the publisher in a flatter networked universe—even if the recent acquisition of my company by Luddites who will never read this comment means I’m temporarily all talk and no action. The brand, Soft Skull, is also one that does well amongst 14-30 year old, the ones who are platform agnostic—the nicest thing said about the brand was in the UK when a commenter on The Guardian’s Comment is Free suggested “Anything by Soft Skull” in response to a question as to what books are likely to get you laid. Sara, to my mind, is identifying two distinct and perhaps complementary phenomena—one the digital object, the textual equivalent of a music phrase subject to endless mash-ups as both now and in the pre-copyright era, such objects currently unnecessarily fixed in place, and the other the immersive stream, what we can the novel, the work of narrative non-fiction. In the first, the producer/consumer role will be highly blended; in the second the creativity of the reader will likely be around the text, rather than in it, be it fan fiction in relation to “genre” texts, or literary criticism in relation to “literary” texts. Because the very value to the consumer lies in a certain degree of temporary submission to the flow, I strongly doubt we’re going to witness an abandonment of the single author (although I hope we witness a greater recognition of the public domain as the source of all the material shaped by that single author); but in every other area of cultural and scientific enterprise, the network effect will increase of the role of talent in the creation of knowledge, and decrease the role of power. Remember we’re talking about lowering barriers to entry, and over the past century the quality of publishing output has dramatically improved and the barrier to entry have fallen—the complainers are largely the tweedy white men who were the ones publishing one another in the 1940’s and 1950’s…Almost none of the people I now publish, could have written books much less had them published, in the pre-digital era, we were too cult, too punk, too black, too angry, too sexy for the analog market and its brutal economies of scale…

Having read Sara Lloyd’s Manifesto it doesn’t seem as if she is anticipating the annihilation of the book or the author, rather she is speculating on how publishing can engage with new ways of creating and accessing written material.

The survival of the book and single author and the new phenomenon Lloyd discusses are not mutually exclusive but nor are they independent. The publishing industry seems slow to come to grips with new opportunities and challenges of the ‘digital era’ whereas others have already begun to grasp and capitalise on them.

Much more debate, like that sparked by this manifesto, is needed to ensure that the publishing industry remains relevant and central to the creation and distribution of written material. Admittedly it was a provocative piece but in managing to spark some debate this seems justified.

Who are these ‘Doomsayers’? What I hear Sara and others saying is that literature has lots to gain from the digital, both in terms of delivery mechanisms and more interestingly in expanding the pallet of the individual author to include - if and when they want to use them - new media means to make new kinds of books and stories, including all kinds of collaborative possibilities that we’re only begining to explore. Of course there are major implications for publishers and all those involved in editing and sharing the word, but I get the feeling that the likes of Sara are relishing the challenges and opportunities ahead.

First of all, some disclosure. My company not only supplies HarperCollins with digital services (this blog being one of them), but we are also in contact with Sara and indeed many of the “trade” readers of this site. (Hi!) Hopefully the complexity of these interests out-conflict each other into something approaching neutraility.

John - the author of this piece - is writing from a privileged position at one of the few UK houses that invests seriously in digital - both as a publishing platform, and as an experimentation about what it means to be a publisher. Lucky for him - I happen to think that Richard Nash’s quote above on the ownership of his company by “Luddites who will never read this comment” is probably more representative of the experience digital evangelists have in publishing.

John is experienced enough to know that in the digital domain, some things work, and some don’t - and acknowledging this situation (like publishing books) is at the heart of a digital strategy. Whilst John’s piece is thoughtful, I have to agree with Mr Charkin that it’s hard to get an angle on exactly what John’s argument with Sara is. If it’s just that publishing is OK - then this is what Sara was railing against, and it’s a bit depressing, given John’s position, and could come across as snark (which charge Mr Charkin makes at John).

Sara’s piece was clearly meant as a provocation to the apathetic and inert forces in publishing, but, rather than provoking fierce debate, has actually (mostly) garnered cheers of support from people who - from my position - it is very hard to see effecting the sorts of change the manifesto calls for. As such, the support feels a little empty.

I am a little dispirited that Sara’s digital manifesto has failed to ignite any serious debate around it: the fact remains that it is still very hard to persuade publishers that digital matters as much as we - the commenters on (and authors of) this blog - believe.

Whilst there may be digital strategies being formulated throughout the business, a highly visible, centralised, and successful execution of these strategies is (I think) absent. Where are the companies doing what OReilly, Harlequin and others have done in the states? Just trying - winning some and losing others - across the business?

Whilst our American partners make a success of digital (or at least fold digital into each area of their business) we barely recognise that in our (trade and) popular media, reporting, retailing and reviews/recommendation - everything about books - have slowly been matched with news about digital’s inexorable rise. As headlines about iPhones, Kindles, Amazon and broadband proliferate - where is publishing’s response? One argument - Sara’s, and mine - is that on the whole, that response is with, with one voice, with its head firmly in the sand. All of us agree here that that is not where publishing’s head should be at right now.

Hi all,

thanks very much for your comments both on this post and the wider debate around the future of digital marketing.

My original post was never intended as ’snarky’, I simply wanted to get some perspective on what is an interesting subject.

Sara’s piece is inspiring and informative, especially for those of us that work in digital marketing. However I tried to imagine presenting the manifesto to editors and publishing directors and what the possible reactions would be. This is where the ‘doom and gloom’ aspect to my piece came in, the Manifesto provided a myriad of digital opportunities, but the tone suggested to me that it was an absolute future for the book, rather than a series of choices for publishers. On reflection I can see how I’ve exaggerated my point in my article, but then I also understand the tough realities of being a digital evangelist in publishing. Peter is absolutely right, it sometimes feels like your preaching is a touch futile.

I would ask therefore that the ‘digital evangelist’ somehow evolves into a person that can assist, communicate and teach publishers about how their business practices can change with mutual benefit for everyone. It’s time to get out of the pulpit and in front of the blackboard. Then away from the blackboard to the realities of the boardroom. Some give and take is needed.

I tried to illustrate this with my comments on the ‘wisdom of the crowds’ Crowdsourcing is an excellent opportunity, it can also been as fundamentally flawed from a business method point-of-view.

What I have learned both from Sara’s piece and the subsequent debate is that there needs to be more discussion on the ways forward. I would therefore like to invite Sara, A Brown, Richard Charkin, Richard Nash, Chris Meade and Peter to write articles on the Future of Publishing, to not only be published on this blog, but shared across Pan Macmillan’s Digital List and whichever Publishing projects and houses would like to run them.

John

Hi John

Nice one. There is a “future of the book” category at our blog, here:
http://aptstudio.com/timesemit/category/publishing/future-of-the-book/
(it probably works equally well as the future of publishing)

However, blogging still feels like preaching to the converted…

[…] 5th Estate · Pan Macmillan?s Digital Manifesto of Doom - An ill-thought-out piece, but if you want to see some of the more interesting people in booktech slugging it out, check the comments. Perhaps that was the idea all along. […]

Thanks, John for that kind offer, which I promise to take you up on by the end of the summer. Peter, while I get what depresses you about Sara’s manifesto falling only on a small group of receptive ears, I rather feel that the choir has gotten substantially bigger over the last 12 months. [Y’all do some kick-ass work at Apt, btw, and thanks for the times emit.] I’ve a “The Future is Now” amongst the list of tags I use for my blog posts (like your Future of the Book, Peter) , and I feel like the number of places I have to add to my RSS feed, in order to not miss linking to interesting thinking, keeps growing. I suspect in the short run we are likelier to see only a growing echo chamber, rather than the real penetration of the mainstream trade publishing space—converts will happen one or two at a time, rather than wholesale. But I also suspect that the tipping point, when it does come, will surprise us with the velocity of change that ensues.

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