First Things First
Why do we write news stories the way we do, beating the reader over the head and yelling, and then explaining what all the fuss is about?
There are a few good practical reasons for the “inverted pyramid” structure of hard (e.g., new) news stories. For one thing, the most interesting thing about news is the stuff that’s, well, new and now. So people naturally start with now, not three weeks of background.
Historically, “news” came in the form of long essays, with lots of opinions and background and back-filling and positioning to create a foundation that would justify (or debunk) whatever the latest developments might be. For example, “In the beginning...” is a lead that suggests a lot of backstory, so you’d best get a comfortable chair and a drink. “Let there be light,” on the other hand, is a great lead that really gets to the point.
Back in the days before print and widespread literacy, “news” was in fact told in parable form, long stories with riveting details that could stick easily in the listeners’ memories, because all these stories were oral—fables and chants and songs and minstrel acts. Memories were better then. Patience, too, I’m guessing.
When the printed word and literacy came along, after Johann Gutenberg changed the world in the mid-1400s, more and more people learned how to read and trusted their important memories to books and paper.
But even with this new technology, “news” could be a longish enterprise, with a lot of preamble and scene-setting and so forth.
But the long-form tale started to fray a bit at the edges when time was short, like when nations were at war. As it became increasingly important for people to know things fast—the Saxons are on the beach, for example—the stories got pared down to the more basic stuff. Sure, we care that it was Fenric, son of Bodric, son of Phobric, son of .... But mostly, the important part was that Fenric and his 2,000 bloodthirsty hordes were at the gate, and who cares about his lineage at the moment anyway?
It wasn’t just war. Economic interests made the news-tellers shorten up their stories as well. After the settlers from Europe arrives to colonize the “New World,” fast sailing boats would regularly shoot out from the East Coast of the colonies to meet slower European square-riggers to get their news and then scoot back to Boston and Jamestown and Manhattan with the news:
politics at court, sure, that might unseat Virginia’s colonial governor, but also about incoming products for sale that merchants could buy up and sell at a profit. So “news” became pretty simple: New shipments of linen. The tea shipment aboard the “Betty” was spoiled with rats. The slaves aboard the “Amistad” were said to have mutinied....
So although gossip has ever been gossip, paring it down to the basics had become increasingly important.
By the mid-1800s, there was yet another reason for storytellers to get to the point, and fast. Northern newspapermen (and yes, they were pretty much all male) attached to the Union troops during the Civil War (or the War of Northern Aggression, depending on where you were standing) used a new technology called the telegraph to shoot news flashes about the war back to New York and Philadelphia and Washington. The problem was that telegraph technology was unreliable—signals would be cut off, poles would fall down, reporters would be hit by cannonballs...the usual thing...and the big news from the front would be cut off before we could hear it:
“Thursday previous, in the aftermath of a torrential downpour so heavy and dense that even the valiant troops of the Connecticut Fourth, 12th Battalion, Ninth Infantry were forced, against their truly courageous natures and inclinations in the face of Confederate Rebels of the foulest ilk, despite the ever-present Inspiration of their most valiant General, ....”
. . . and then the telegraph failed.
So their editors told them to cut to the chase, and just send the facts, ma’am, just the facts: Who WON, fergawdsakes?!?
Thus, writing may have gotten a lot less interesting, but it was a lot more informative: The inverted pyramid placed the most important facts at the start of the story. Sentences were more focused, shorter and more active. WHO and WHAT were essential. WHEN and WHERE? The why’s and the how’s and the additional details...well, fill ’em in if and when you can, and we’ll run that stuff if there’s space.
Because that was another physical impediment on storytelling. Getting the basic facts through before the wires fell down was one thing. But then, how much room was there in the newspaper for the story? Up through today, one of the greatest limitations on news is physical spacce—how much will fit? Routinely, the people who put the final newspaper (or website or newscast) together simply paste the copy in, and then either cut from the bottom to make it fit, or just let the story meander on in cyberspace.
So it’s pretty important not to leave the most important stuff until last. Instead of building suspense, the writer who hopes to develop the theme and to create artistic tensions is more likely to find the whodunit climax cut away onto the floor, or lost at the unread/unseen/unregistered end.
So: The Inverted Pyramid was born. A pyramid, of course, starts at the bottom with the heaviest and most essential foundation, and builds in diminishing size and weight to a pinnacle, which disappears into nothing.
Invert that structure, and you start at the top with the MOST IMPORTANT stuff: WHO? Did WHAT? to WHOM? WHEN? and WHERE? So if the telegraph poles go down, you will have delivered your headlines, at least. It looks like this:
THE SUMMARY OF THE BIGBIG NEWS
A PARAGRAPH ADDING MORE KEY DETAILS
THE NEXT MOST IMPORTANT INFORMATION
THE NEXT MOST IMPORTANT INFORMATION
MAYBE A QUOTE OR SOME BACKGROUND
OTHER SUPPORTING DETAILS & STUFF
SOMEWHAT LESS IMPORTANT INFO
MORE, EXPANDING ON THE PREVIOUS
MORE DETAILS AND STUFF
MORE INFORMATION
AND MORE STUFF
AND MORE
AND
peter
out
OTHER SUPPORTING DETAILS & STUFF
SOMEWHAT LESS IMPORTANT INFO
MORE, EXPANDING ON THE PREVIOUS
MORE DETAILS AND STUFF
MORE INFORMATION
AND MORE STUFF
AND MORE
AND
peter
out
This structure has its problems. For one thing, there’s no heart or soul or art or suspense, no character development or evocative descriptive detail. It assumes that people will shut you down after three sentences (if you’re lucky!).
All that is true—this is not great literature. But the inverted pyramid structure, starting with a summary lead to focus the reader’s attention and then feeding that interest one logical step at a time, is a powerful and valuable tool, not just in news writing, but in any kind of communication. Readers are busy, and especially when it comes to scanning the day’s news. If you can hook the reader in the first sentence, you can play him like a trout in the second and third grafs, and then keep reeling her into the rest of the story. This is a mechnism that not only can capture readers, but which can help you organize your own thoughts and your writing, whatever your topic and field. While your history classmates are struggling with the politics of the 14th Century, who will have framed your paper with, “For want of a horse, a kingdom died,” which in your mind is the central fact from which all other events unfolded.
If you can organize your own thoughts to focus on the most central points, your reader will thank you.
More stuff on inverted pyramid newswriting structure: From the mighty Chip Scanlan at the Poynter Institute for Media Studies... and this, too.... and from some blogs.... and you can find other stuff. But you get the idea.
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