This week I attended the Journalism That Matters conference in Washington, DC. Although it was an unconference in which the attendees created and led their own sessions in place of the typical panel discussions, it kicked off with a expert led discussion about how new media and citizen involvement threatens the traditional mainstream news business model. As one of the experts explained, medium to large newspapers are considering eliminating their Tuesday edition. The tone was set, this wasn’t a meeting without weight behind it.

Noted throughout the gathering was the fact that the business model has the bleak prognosis, not the craft. Further, many of the traditional journalists — some of whom were at the confab — are panicking about the citizens encroaching on their professional turf. However, some of these journos were able to see a silver lining to the declining corporate business model. In fact, at the closing session one of the veteran journalists said that the craft is not only doing well but in a renaissance. I agree.

In June MSNBC’s Bill Dedman revealed the political donations made between 2004 and the first quarter of 2007 by 143 journalists from all over the country working in various media. Despite the revelations of which politicians journalists support, the most interesting finding to me involves two public radio broadcasters.

NPR newscaster Corey Flintoff explained to Dedman that his wife was the one who donated about $600 to Howard Dean’s presidential campaign in 2003 and said that a blogger who called this information to NPR’s attention led his employer to restrict its journalists from donating or participating in politics. Flintoff asserts that he follows this policy scrupulously.

In contrast, former WAMU (the American University sponsored affiliate in DC) reporter Susan Goodman, who donated to a variety of Democratic candidates, proudly stands by her actions, especially since she didn’t cover those races. When asked if a news organization prohibited her from participating in politics she retorted, “I wouldn’t work at a place like that. I don’t think you should give up your rights as a citizen if you work as a journalist.”

I agree with Goodman.
(read more after the jump)

A few weeks ago social media gurus Zadi Diaz, Jeff Jarvis, Robert Paterson, Jay Rosen, Doc Searls, and David Weinberger met at NPR’s Washington headquarters to brainstorm on how the radio network should transition to a new media landscape. They urged the media to, among other things, connect audience members together to form communities around common goals and interests.

Communities of like-minded people exist around media outlets, but without a means of mingling, they lack the ability to accomplish anything constructive. An example of this is the Lou Dobbs Tonight community.

Many people who loyally watch Lou Dobbs on CNN/US share passion for his pet issues including illegal immigration. Whether they agree with him or not, they feel that reform is necessary. However, other than watching his show, buying his books and attending his controlled town hall meetings, there is little more that they can do.

If Dobbs is going to preach each night about the woes of living today, it only seems reasonable and responsible to foster a community aimed at tackling the problems he addresses. The responsblities of a journalist used to be about spreading information. Today, they have to go above and beyond.

While wikis rule, they need rules as well. Collaboration just flows better when participants have experience and knowledge of how such forums function. That’s why Wikipedia works; it has rules and a committed set of wikipedians who police changes made in the virtual encyclopedia.

However, launching a new wiki and expecting it to — abracadabra— completely work is rather optimistic. That is why it is interesting to observe Politicopia, the new public political wiki in Utah, that I profiled a few days ago.

Politicopia has broken some barriers between state legislators and who they represent, but it has also had a few hiccups. Like in virtually all things politics, some wiki contributors aren’t that cool — despite Steve Urquhart’s, who launched the wiki, explicit plea on the homepage that participants “Be cool.”

Former U.S. candidate Pete Ashdown — who pioneered the use of wikis in political campaigns during the 2006 election — unfortunately encountered some unhip interlocutors who deleted comments. He states on his blog that, “For some reason my concern of tax dollars [for school vouchers] going to extremists was not only scoffed at, but edited to remove references to America’s and Utah’s history of extremism.” The pro and con arguments that he added to the abortion discussion were also eliminated. Such actions defeat the whole purpose of Politicopia to serve as an on-line forum for politicians and citizens to discuss legislation.

So, is some moderation of the wiki in order?

Like many politicians of the time, Utah lawmaker Steve Urquhart began his political career by passing out donuts to children and offering hot air balloon rides. Anything to connect better with his constituents.

At the urging of Phil Windley, a computer science professor at Brigham Young University, he sought to make virtual connections and began a blog at SteveU.com. Urquhart took another step into digital democracy when he recently launched Politicopia — a simple social-text wiki for people to congregate and discuss issues and legislation.

At a time when user-generated content and other Web 2.0 trends are all the rage, Urquhart is harnessing the Internet “for its ability to cut out the middleman.” Or in more succinct terms; “Though the Internet has moved sellers and consumers closer together, its strides in politics haven’t yet been so grand. In politics, intermediaries — like special interest groups, bureaucrats, and the media — heavily filter information between people and their elected officials.”