Part IV: Adaptability and Business Models in a World Where No One Will Make You Famous
Drummond’s journey—along with his multiple journalistic accomplishments—are a byproduct of his unparalleled enthusiasm and go-getter attitude. As he sits back in his chair and looks me right in the eye, I catch a shimmering glimpse of the straightforward and no-nonsense professor that he is, and almost instantly know that he strives to instill this value in his students as well. “All of the media has changed. San Quentin has changed. A lot of the old people have paroled and gone and the new generation has expanded. It’s expanded beyond the small group that was just focused on the paper and is a lot more diffuse now as there are people who want to publish pieces in Spanish and Vietnamese as well. People are no longer satisfied with the cold type anymore and want the thrill of video. This is why they are doing a lot of audio, video and podcasts,” he said, describing the change that took place in the news organization with an underlying sense of acceptance in his voice. “We’ve had to adjust to that. Good or bad, it is what it is,” he added, indicating the inevitability of transition in journalism. The essential spirit of the field remains the same, but mediums and methods are almost always subject to change. This has a subsequent impact on teaching as well.
“Students are spending a lot of time on data journalism, animation and video. So I wonder what we should be teaching them? Based on the stuff that I have read, in the coming times, people are going to have to be able to adapt to a lot of things that haven’t even been invented yet,” he said, his face luminescent with the glow of experience. “You have to be adaptable and understand a business model. I think creating a business model must be added to the list of mandatory assignments for students. They should ask themselves, what idea could I come up with that would sell? If I do a substack, why would anyone want to read it? In these times, there aren’t any companies that will pluck you out and make you famous. You need to make yourself famous,” he emphasized.
Throughout his six-decade-long-career, Drummond has done so much more than merely reckon with the transitions in journalism. He’s also gone out of his way to make sure that his students understand these changes, preparing them—or rather arming them—for the new demands of this ever-evolving industry with the strong axe of adaptability, a weapon that he has constructed out of pure experience. “I have a lot of guest speakers coming into the classes that I teach and they often try to talk about what’s different now in the industry as compared to all those years ago. The main thing that comes up now is that you have to think very hard about the economics of the industry that you want to work in. We never thought of it and had a kind of disdain for the business side of things. But you can’t do that anymore. Not if you want to survive,” he said.
As I reached the end of my series of conversations with Drummond, I decided to tread on the path of clichés and ask him for some final thoughts. “What is the one message you want to give to students who want to pursue journalism?” I asked, flinching at the ordinariness of my question, fully aware that all interviewers at some point eventually resort to it. “Journalism is a calling. A calling that makes you want to help people through your stories. It’s not something you can get rich out of doing, but it can teach you a lot,” he said, as I responded with an understanding smile. Through my interview with Drummond, I knew exactly how a calling feels—like a pair of sun-soaked claws gently tugging at your heartstrings, redirecting your focus and telling you that this is what you should be doing. “But as a job, I have to say, journalism—it’s terrible,” he admitted, as both of us burst into peals of resounding yet shared laughter, knowing that it was in fact this terrible craft that kept us alive.
