The newspaper business
Everywhere, broadsheets are shrinking
TABLOID newspapers in many countries are full of topless women, celebrity gossip and xenophobia. But they also boast another attraction: women and younger people find their smaller pages easier to manage, especially on public transport. Broadsheets that usually look down on tabloids are now rushing to downsize. In Britain, both the Independent and the Times have launched small editions, and the Telegraph has a dummy waiting in the wings. This week, Axel Springer, a German publisher, launched a trial run of Welt Kompakt, a tabloid version of Die Welt.
The reason? Broadsheets are mostly seeing their circulation slowly dwindle as older readers die and young people choose other sources for news and entertainment. They are also facing tough new competition from free commuter tabloids such as those published by Metro International, a Swedish firm. The trend is not entirely new. Spain has no broadsheets left at all, and in Italy Monrif Group switched its three leading papers, in Milan, Florence and Bologna, to tabloid format in 2001.
At Britain's Independent, total circulation has risen by about 15% from last year thanks to its small edition. This month it dropped its broadsheet edition altogether. As many as 30 papers from around the world are thinking about doing something similar, according to Jim Chisholm at the World Association of Newspapers. The Independent's London offices have become a place of pilgrimage for newspaper bosses seeking ways to hold on to readers, he says—Malaysia's New Straits Times Press is one of many firms that have visited.
Can the answer to the woes of the broadsheets really be so simple? Though many readers prefer it, the tabloid format brings its own problems, one of which is that advertisers refuse to pay as much for the same fraction of space. It requires a big rise in circulation to offset that drop in ad revenue, and few popular broadsheet papers are likely to get the same boost as the Independent, which has a relatively small and young readership. Those with lots of older male readers will risk losing them if they go tabloid—these people tend to object the most. For that reason the Times has had to continue to publish its big edition, and thus has higher costs than if it could opt for one or the other.
Some broadsheet publishers are trying a more ambitious strategy: instead of replicas, or replacements, they are creating tabloids with fresh editorial content—not skimpily dressed celebrities, but articles designed to appeal to younger readers. Axel Springer's Welt Kompakt, for instance, is a condensed version of Die Welt, not an exact copy. It says it will continue to sell the broadsheet. The Chicago Tribune and the Chicago Sun-Times have each launched new tabloids aimed at the young. When the Svenska Dagbladet, a quality Swedish paper, went tabloid in 2000, it moved slightly downmarket and aimed itself more at city dwellers, says Lars Ryding, its foreign editor. As a result, he says, circulation in Stockholm rose by a quarter.
Tabloid proprietors are less than thrilled about quality papers aping their size. Richard Desmond, owner of Britain's Express Newspapers, argues that there is value for readers in keeping a clear distinction between the two. Still, as more serious papers shrink, being bigger may become more of a unique selling point. Might tabloids eventually fight back—by going broadsheet?