Rhetorical question: which would you prefer? A £24 charge p.a. to clear your green garden waste or black bin household collections every three weeks?
One newspaper group. Two titles. Same press day. Two front pages. Two very different editorial stances.
No one expects to be delighted at the prospect of paying £24 p.a. for their green garden waste collection. The reality, though, is that tough economic times mean tougher decisions and this is what Denbiughshire council seem to have done. This isn't the first and it certainly won't be the last (Awelon?).
The Rhyl Journal treated the news in a very matter-of-fact way. Its headline said "Pay £1 to have your green bin collected" and the article went on in a very measured fashion. So, for example, its first sentence read,
Now, contrast this with the Denbighshire Free Press. Its headline shouted “Green with anger". The reporter's tone was very different, almost confrontational. Its leading sentence read,
In my book, the Journal *reported* the news but the Free Press *sensationalised* it. By using Facebook, the Free Press was also lazy in its journalism.
Why the different style of presentation? Perhaps it's because the Free Press is a paid-for title and therefore must dramatise to attract buyers. The Journal is distributed free of charge. Another reason is that the Free Press has a much smaller catchment and therefore must try harder to reach its readership. The Free Press will always struggle to fill its pages with news (this is not so for the Journal) and this may explain why the Free Press spends much of its time on reporting council business: it's easy pickings.
It seems that the Free Press cannot write a story without someone being outraged, furious or angry or distraught (though further down the article, in this case, it did use the milder "voice their concerns").
Much further within the paper, though, came a more restrained approach from the Free Press' editor, in his comment on page 23. Referring to things as a "storm in a tea cup", he went on to say that,
• Who else remembers the time when there were no green bins (or wheelie bins of any hue, for that matter)? It was often possible to hide modest amounts of garden waste in a black bin-bag but, officially, you couldn't and instead had to pay for green waste sacks—at £1.50 each for about half a green wheelie bin's worth of capacity. The service appears to be discretionary and therefore the council can charge. A case of short memories but then again our local journos are young and never stay in the same patch long enough to build up any kind of local contemporary history.
• And who else remember other "bin" controversies? Wheelie bins were far from popular when they first arrived. But by far the most controversial was the kerbside collections of black bin bags both introduced and largely abandoned in 1987. There's nothing new: Glyndŵr District Council was forced to make savings and it originally wished to remove bus tokens (to save £79,000) but instead chose a more efficient bin collection service. The trouble was, elderly people would have to lug their bins to the kerb rather than have them picked up from the door. Because Glyndŵr would only give an exemption to those in specifically constructed sheltered housing. Matters were even worse at Bryn Goodman: because this was not adopted, residents would need to cart their sacks to the public highway yet, at that time, there were 23 houses between them contributing £36,000 p.a. in rates. When, after a respectful gap, Glyndŵr reintroduced the scheme, they were for more conciliatory towards older homeowners. Disgraced Cllr Trebor Hughes called the scheme "The most unpopular, unpleasant and unnecessary action taken by Glyndŵr."
One newspaper group. Two titles. Same press day. Two front pages. Two very different editorial stances.
No one expects to be delighted at the prospect of paying £24 p.a. for their green garden waste collection. The reality, though, is that tough economic times mean tougher decisions and this is what Denbiughshire council seem to have done. This isn't the first and it certainly won't be the last (Awelon?).
The Rhyl Journal treated the news in a very matter-of-fact way. Its headline said "Pay £1 to have your green bin collected" and the article went on in a very measured fashion. So, for example, its first sentence read,
"A charge is to be introduced in Denbighshire for the collection of garden waste"
Now, contrast this with the Denbighshire Free Press. Its headline shouted “Green with anger". The reporter's tone was very different, almost confrontational. Its leading sentence read,
"Residents are outraged at the council decision to charge for emptying green waste bins in Denbighshire"Rather than keeping to the facts, as did the Journal, the Free Press' story majored on Facebook quotes from disgruntled ratepayers.
"Many people feel the decision is a step too far and took to social network websites to voice their concerns"There followed nine examples.
In my book, the Journal *reported* the news but the Free Press *sensationalised* it. By using Facebook, the Free Press was also lazy in its journalism.
Why the different style of presentation? Perhaps it's because the Free Press is a paid-for title and therefore must dramatise to attract buyers. The Journal is distributed free of charge. Another reason is that the Free Press has a much smaller catchment and therefore must try harder to reach its readership. The Free Press will always struggle to fill its pages with news (this is not so for the Journal) and this may explain why the Free Press spends much of its time on reporting council business: it's easy pickings.
It seems that the Free Press cannot write a story without someone being outraged, furious or angry or distraught (though further down the article, in this case, it did use the milder "voice their concerns").
Much further within the paper, though, came a more restrained approach from the Free Press' editor, in his comment on page 23. Referring to things as a "storm in a tea cup", he went on to say that,
"... in the grand scheme of things there are worse services to lose and if it help to save cuts where they could be more catastrophic, surely we can cope with the odd trip to the skip"And so say all of us. Other than on social media, obviously.
• Who else remembers the time when there were no green bins (or wheelie bins of any hue, for that matter)? It was often possible to hide modest amounts of garden waste in a black bin-bag but, officially, you couldn't and instead had to pay for green waste sacks—at £1.50 each for about half a green wheelie bin's worth of capacity. The service appears to be discretionary and therefore the council can charge. A case of short memories but then again our local journos are young and never stay in the same patch long enough to build up any kind of local contemporary history.
• And who else remember other "bin" controversies? Wheelie bins were far from popular when they first arrived. But by far the most controversial was the kerbside collections of black bin bags both introduced and largely abandoned in 1987. There's nothing new: Glyndŵr District Council was forced to make savings and it originally wished to remove bus tokens (to save £79,000) but instead chose a more efficient bin collection service. The trouble was, elderly people would have to lug their bins to the kerb rather than have them picked up from the door. Because Glyndŵr would only give an exemption to those in specifically constructed sheltered housing. Matters were even worse at Bryn Goodman: because this was not adopted, residents would need to cart their sacks to the public highway yet, at that time, there were 23 houses between them contributing £36,000 p.a. in rates. When, after a respectful gap, Glyndŵr reintroduced the scheme, they were for more conciliatory towards older homeowners. Disgraced Cllr Trebor Hughes called the scheme "The most unpopular, unpleasant and unnecessary action taken by Glyndŵr."