Journos unsung heroes of the productivity push EVERY pet shop galah might still be talking about productivity-boosting reform, to repeat Paul Keating's famous observation. But no Australian industry is pursuing it with the exigent earnestness of newspapers, which -- after years of painful cuts -- are surely the single most efficient and productive businesses in the country. Shorn of the huge advertising revenues that once propped up the fat-cats and shirkers that still thrive in other sectors, print newsrooms -- and their increasingly frenetic editorial staff -- are being forced by necessity to do more with less. The Media Entertainment and Arts Alliance -- which seeks to represent journalists' interests -- estimates the number of full-time newspaper journalists in Australia has halved to about 4000 over the past seven years, with roughly equal numbers at the two major private publishers, News Corp Australia (publisher of The Australian) and Fairfax. While the privilege of being paid to write is growing rarer, so is the share of workers who could handle the pace. The number of newspaper pages has shrunk a little in sympathy with the dwindling ranks, but the typical output per journalist has surged. Writing two or three stories a day, or about 6000 words a week, including perhaps a longer think piece for the weekend edition, is increasingly common. On top of that, journalists are writing online stories throughout the day and sometimes putting together videos to feed a news cycle nearer 24 minutes than 24 hours. The long lunch is dead; leaving the office can even be difficult. The daily publication and distribution of newspapers -- long one of the logistical wonders of the world -- is now even more remarkable. A good journalist at one of Australia's top-level mastheads would produce more verifiable work in a week than most bureaucrats do in month or perhaps even longer. For example, the 4500 staff at the federal Department of Health, who take nearly 11 working days a year in sick leave, produce very little tangible output. By comparison The Australian's 170-odd full-time-equivalent editorial staff produce a broadsheet to satisfy an educated and exacting readership six times a week, as do the 160-odd equally harried staff at The Australian Financial Review. Australia-wide, output per worker has risen a paltry 10 per cent over the past seven years while labour productivity in print newsrooms must have surged over 100 per cent, thanks entirely to greater effort. Technology, far from making work easier, has provided further channels for output. If journalists are the investment bankers of the arts world, they are poorly paid ones. But whatever the mounting stresses, risks and strains of the job, very few would choose the former. The non-pecuniary benefits of journalism -- the access, the influence, and the variety -- are still huge and arguably growing. Despite the travails of the media in recent years, few journos really want to leave. It is ironic that newspapers are struggling financially at the very peak of their influence. The internet has been a double-edged sword -- eroding revenues at the same time as dramatically expanding newspapers' effective circulation. Never in history have broadsheets been so read and their journalists so well-known. Where an article was once forgotten in days, now is it permanently accessible online. Are there lessons for other industries seeking to lift their workforce productivity? Nothing focuses the mind and elicits effort like a deadline, especially when they occur daily and often more than once. Second, the volume and quality of journalists is starkly on display. A mistake can hobble a promising career; a poorly worded sentence can land a proprietor in a costly court case. But the rewards of good work are enjoyed by the journalist alone. The incentives are perfectly aligned. The teamwork and meetings endemic in corporate and bureaucratic life, by contrast, promote laziness. Journalists are the unsung heroes of Australia's productivity push.