Should Journalists Work For Free?

This may land controversially, but it’s something that has been on my mind for a little while now. It is this: should theatre journalists - critics, reviewers and feature writers - really have to work for free? 

Of course, we do it for the love of theatre, we do it because we enjoy engaging with a piece on a critical level and being part of the dialogue that occurs after the event. We get to see shows for free, and sometimes even get a little press drink. The payment is plentiful in terms of our own emotional, intellectual and social enjoyment, and we receive it gratefully. But it is not plentiful in the ways that pay the rent, or the hours it takes to form an entertaining and intelligent piece of writing.

I feel righteous in bringing this up because I work on both sides of the coin. Between marketing, playwriting and journalism, it’s a confusing mix, but it does mean that I see the truth. Over the past year, consistently, I have seen the cold harsh light of statistical evidence revealing the effect reviews have on ticket sales for a show. Negate me, please do, but my evidence comes from the box office reports of a variety of external companies performing a variety of work at different times of the year. The variables are plenty, the trend remains firm: the highest sales dates come from previews, ticket offers and press publications. 

It comes as very little surprise that when a well known and highly respected critic’s review is published, there is a spike in sales. The theatres know this, and no doubt it is the reason why at a recent press night I attended, a critic for the Times had four seats reserved for them under their name. I didn’t even have one, and she was getting paid for the gig. I’m not saying I want celebrity treatment, I’m saying that there shouldn’t be special treatment for anyone, but the argument against the gap between artists and critics is one for another time.

I sort of feel I might lose my rights to review for this, but it’s a situation that rubs my arm hairs the wrong way. Why shouldn’t we be paid for doing what we love, when we work so hard at it? Across the board, online publications and journalists are doing incredible things for the dialogue around theatre purely off their own back. A lot of people assume that these people are getting paid, which is why I wanted to write this. When a friend asked me to travel to Hampshire to review his show and I said I couldn’t afford to, he asked, “Won’t the newspaper cover it?” Friend, I wouldn’t even be paid for the review. The only reason I occasionally venture to Hampshire to review work there is that incredibly exciting things are happening and it is high on my personal agenda to ensure regional theatre receives the coverage and the acclaim it deserves. Otherwise, it is a hardy slog down the M3 through the roadworks and a day I have to book off work in advance.

Okay, alright, then who is going to pay the wage? The truth is, I don’t know. The theatre isn’t going to pay it, the company isn’t going to pay it, the not-for-profit publication with lots of contributors to cover the sheer wealth of work isn’t going to pay for it. Megan Vaughan of Synonyms For Churlish has taken the Patreon route, and I have been delighted to see friends rise to write for editorials who have the capital to pay for a review. Being paid for an interview is a rare luxury, but again, the compensation for this comes in the form of receiving the uncut version of the conversation, and having the chance to ask the questions you have been burning to ask (Nick Payne, I’m ready when you are.) But - for me, at least - it’s five days of stress and self-loathing, beating an article into submission in all of the hours around paid employment. It’s hard. I love it unconditionally, and it is like food to me, and I don’t do nearly enough of it, but it’s hard.

Of course there is an order to things, and of course you work your way up through the appropriate channels in the appropriate amount of good time. That’s just the way it is. But why does it have to be that way? What if you simply don’t have the time to go through all the channels, stuck in a catch-22? That’s why initiatives like The Stage’s critic search is brilliant, as is the IdeasTap/Hiive paid columnist gig. Otherwise, we gladly volunteer our time, but I would gladly volunteer more if it could directly supplement my rent and travel expenses. 

There is no one to blame here, and I’m not saying that anyone is in the wrong. It’s simply a situation that has risen out of the brilliant furore of bloggers and voices proclaiming their love for theatre in the form of well-written, inspiring reviews and features. We haven’t prepared for it, but I believe it is in tandem with all the brilliant new work that deserves funding and support. That is, only if we as a culture and society truly value it. If not, then let’s have that conversation, and find a way to talk about theatre in a way that does appeal to the majority. But either way, I’m inclined to suggest that in this case, the best things in life should not be free.

I won’t stop writing, but I will continue to ask this question, and hope others will, too. I don’t have any solutions or answers, and have a sneaking suspicion that under our current government, this will remain the case. But if anyone does have any ideas, please give me a shout.