Saturday, February 21, 2026

Stuff's operating model: cheap and lazy

(Estimated reading time: 10 minutes)

Last Tuesday’s edition of my local paper, the Wairarapa Times-Age, devoted an entire page to an Associated Press (i.e. American) feature story about affluent middle-class professionals taking extended career breaks.

The people mentioned in the story are representatives of an elite US metropolitan class who can afford to put their careers on hold while they spend months enjoying a “reset” in exotic locations such as Egypt and Brazil. It’s hard to imagine a story less relevant to readers of a paper in a New Zealand provincial town where many people are struggling.

Stuff, which provides most of the content in the Times-Age, made a half-hearted and thoroughly unconvincing effort to dress up the article as something important by labelling it “The Global Read”. That it was published in the Times-Age was an insult; in fact a double insult. It was insulting to the paper’s readers first because it was a lazy way to fill space, and second because of its complete lack of empathy. People who worry about being unable to pay the grocery or electricity bill are hardly likely to relate to stories about privileged lifestyles that they could never dream of emulating.

The article lacked even the saving grace of being well written. In common with much American journalism produced by earnest university graduates, it was turgid and overlong. I couldn’t imagine a single Times-Age reader persevering to the end. Most would have given up after the first few sentences, the subject matter being only marginally more compelling than a doctoral thesis on nematodes.

For this, the small editorial staff of the Times-Age are blameless. The paper is owned by Stuff and much of its content is generic, being shared with other papers in the Stuff chain. Local input is generally restricted to three or four news pages at the front, plus letters to the editor, an occasional opinion column, some featherweight community-contributed content (the “Thought of the Day” is popular) and a bit of sport. The rest is centrally generated by Stuff and relies heavily on syndicated content from overseas providers such as the aforementioned Associated Press. The editor of the Times-Age has no control over it and his opinion of its merit is not known to me.

Stuff papers are – excuse the pun – stuffed full of content that’s shovelled into the pages with little concern for relevance and even less for attractive display. Turn the pages of any Stuff paper and you’re bound to be confronted by great slabs of dull grey type devoted to subjects of minimal interest, typically illustrated with lifeless, static pictures downloaded from an online image library. Filling the space seems the sole imperative, and Stuff’s editors appear to grab whatever happens to be available.

It’s cheap and it requires minimal effort; that seems to be Stuff’s operating model. Never mind what the readers might want. Who cares?

Let’s return to Tuesday’s Times-Age. Eager to read something interesting and relevant after the AP snorefest, readers would have turned the page to see a double-page spread, this time reproduced from Britain’s Sunday Times, about Ukraine creating underground classrooms where children can learn without the disruption caused by Russian missiles and drone attacks.

I didn’t have the patience to do a count but I would guess the story ran to at least 2000 words, which is far too much to ask of a provincial newspaper reader on a weekday morning. (Note that the original British version was published on a Sunday, when people have the luxury of time – and bear in mind that the Sunday Times is read by the leisured class.) And while the subject was interesting enough, the story could have easily been crunched down to a quarter of its length without losing any crucial information (hint: it’s called editing).

And so it continued. The following page was another grey slab – this time a wordy opinion column on aged care, accompanied by another file picture retrieved from an overseas image library. More laziness.

Further on, another two-page spread: a travel article about a remote location in Queensland. Travel pieces are a handy way of padding out a newspaper with fluff. The writers are often prepared to accept a token payment because their principal reward is the free trip (or junket, in journalistic parlance).

The Wednesday paper wasn’t much better. This time, the full-page “Global Read” was about Singapore Airport’s introduction of a levy to pay for sustainable aviation fuel. Really? An entire page, in a paper serving provincial New Zealand? Couldn’t they find something a little more germane to readers’ lives and interests?

Oh, but hang on – there’s more. A few pages further on, there’s a full-page opinion piece – running, I’d guess, to about 1500 words – by a university lecturer from Leicester, England, about the potential harm done by social media. And opposite that, another full-page piece of similar length by another university academic, this time an Australian-based American writing about cyber crime.

Most readers of the Times-Age will have flicked over these pages with barely a pause because they offered nothing to lure them in. The vital principle that a successful newspaper reflects its community appears to have been forgotten or ignored.

Thursday’s paper brought yet another double-page spread, again from the purveyors of stodge at Associated Press, about an American man raising twin boys with autism. It was labelled with the tag line “In depth”, as if that magically made it something people in provincial New Zealand would want to read about. And on the following page, an opinion piece by a University of Auckland academic about slavery laws. Academics, like freelance travel writers, are a handy source of cheap copy because they’re keen to get published and in their case, the taxpayer picks up the tab because the writers are on the public payroll.

This is a rip-off worthy of the attention of Consumer magazine. People in the Wairarapa (and come to that, in the Manawatu and the Waikato and Christchurch and Timaru and Nelson and Invercargill too, all of whom get served the same dross by their local Stuff papers) don’t buy their daily paper to read wordy articles by academic non-entities about subjects far removed from readers’ real-life interests and concerns.

Another “In depth” piece on Friday – from The Times of London – was a dispatch from Greenland about how Donald Trump is making the locals nervous. Again, a legitimate subject – but two pages? And further back in the paper, another two pages devoted to newly released movies that may never be screened in the Wairarapa.

People pay good money for their paper. They deserve better than to be presented with pretend newspapers that contain barely a skerrick of hard news. Every one of those esoteric non-stories occupied precious space that in a previous era would have been filled with content of genuine interest and value; information vital to the functioning of informed communities. Even as recently as 10 years ago, no self-respecting paper would have wasted space on them.

To use a biblical analogy, we’re being fed lots of chaff but precious little wheat. Even the few supposed news pages come up short. In seven years as a news editor on daily papers, I always held to the view that on a typical day there were probably about half a dozen stories of such national interest and importance that they had to be in the paper. They might be stories about politics, crime, business takeovers, fires and fatal car accidents or whatever. You could be confident that if you read a daily paper in any of the major cities or provincial centres, you’d be informed about them. And if you didn't see them, by definition you were not well informed.

That operating principle was abandoned years ago. News coverage is now a random, hit-and-miss affair. You might read about a major event or you might not. We literally don’t know what we’re missing. Vast areas of the country are black holes; we hear virtually nothing about them. (The demise of the New Zealand Press Association, which used to ensure that all news of significance from anywhere in the country was promptly distributed nationwide, is a separate tragedy of its own.)

The American journalist Walter Lippman once said that without the news media, we would live in an invisible society; we wouldn’t know anything. We haven’t quite reached that point, but we’re heading in that direction. We know less about ourselves than at any time since the emergence of the popular press in the 19th century.

In place of news, we now get bulky opinion pieces from Stuff journalists. Too often they take a partisan political or ideological line. The short, sharp, punchy news story, which previous generations of reporters could write in their sleep and once filled papers, is virtually extinct.

In the case of Stuff papers, there’s a disproportionate preponderance of content from the Press. The Christchurch paper has become the engine room of the Stuff chain, with the result that Stuff papers carry a lot of Christchurch news that’s of zero interest to readers elsewhere.

Obituaries? Don’t get me started. I frequently see full-page obits for Americans and Brits whom most Stuff readers will have never heard of. The deaths of notable New Zealanders, meanwhile, pass unnoticed.

I could go on. I haven’t mentioned the pages devoted to soft, lifestyle-oriented content that used to be the preserve of glossy magazines: articles about gardening, interior design, food, fashion and relationships. The Times-Age, like other Stuff papers, devotes acres of space to movies and TV shows that most people will never watch. In the days when everyone viewed the same free-to-air television, stories about programmes and personalities made sense. Not so, however, when most TV content is streamed on subscription platforms and viewing patterns have become hopelessly fragmented.

A few of the Stuff journalists who edit all this generic copy (if editing is the appropriate word, given that much of it is lifted holus-bolus, headlines and all, from other sources) are old enough to remember when newspapers were full of stuff that mattered. I can’t imagine all of them are happy to be processing editorial content whose sole purpose is to fill space.

It seems hard to believe that with its resources, Stuff can’t present the readers of its papers with a more compelling editorial product. I’m therefore forced to the conclusion that the company is run by people who don’t care much about newspapers and may even regard them as a tiresome anachronism that they would rather be rid of. I get the impression print readers are deemed far less important than those who “consume content” – a hideous phrase – online (Stuff owner Sinead Boucher was an early convert to digital).

How have we come to this? That’s a long, sad story that can wait for another time. Suffice it to say that newspapers were hit by a digital technology revolution that fatally undermined their profitability, and their decline was hastened by owners who were panicked into doing the wrong things – such as making content available free online.

The strange thing, in view of all the foregoing, is that I still value the Times-Age enough to keep paying my subscription. Reading it with my first coffee of the day, although it takes far less time than it once did, is a morning ritual. But more than that, the local paper – even in its tragically feeble and eviscerated state – is still a valuable means of keeping communities connected. With a bit more care and commitment from their apparently indifferent owner, Stuff papers might yet avoid the inevitable fate that otherwise confronts them.