UK Telegraph: Is their ‘fundamental distinction’ a special relationship?

The last line is killer, but the whole thing is an editorial abattoir.

As the Fawkes post notes, the Telegraph’s movie reviewer Robbie Collin called Fury an “astonishing” and “gripping tank drama [that] brings us as close to an understanding of war as cinema can.” Now, maybe Collin pimped his review to please an advertiser, maybe he just has a thing for Brad Pitt in fatigues, or maybe the critic genuinely liked the film, but there’s no way to really know, is there? Once some content is revealed as tainted, the whole enterprise absorbs the stench.

Because that is what happens when you blur the line between content and marketing.

But if this has readers in the new world feeling somehow superior, like this is the stuff of the gleeful guttersnipes of the British media, it’s time to step down off the curb. Just last month, Condé Nast, publishers of such magazines as Vanity Fair, GQ and The New Yorker, announced the formation of 23 Stories, an in-house creative agency that will work with advertisers “to produce content-led marketing campaigns.”

Condé Nast isn’t the first publisher to offer an on-premises ad shop, but what makes 23 Stories special is it uses the same staff responsible for CN’s magazines’ editorial content. “We are changing the branded content game ... by offering marketers, for the first time, access to our unparalleled editorial assets,” said Condé Nast chief marketing officer Edward Menicheschi in a statement published by Folio Magazine.

The New York Times, Time Magazine and the Atlantic have all featured paid advertising formatted to look like news content (usually with a note somewhere that indicates sponsorship — though usually with a very small note), and, of course, BuzzFeed proudly states that all their revenue comes from sponsored posts.

The New York Times has also staged talks and seminars where invited guests are given access to a mix of topic-specific business representatives and Times editorial staff — the Paper of Record has then produced articles and entire pullout sections that were sourced from those gatherings. And some years back, The Washington Post had a very public stumble when it offered sponsored “salons” where government officials and Beltway lobbyists could have “quiet, off-the-record” dinners with Post reporters, then-editor-in-chief Marcus Brauchli and then-publisher Katherine Weymouth.

After it got around a bit, The Post had to cancel that revenue stream, but the potential behind-the-scenes mingling of journalists supposedly responsible for reporting the news and those responsible for making it with those that are traditionally asked to pay for the paper and ink (not to mention reporters’ salaries) left a taste in the mouth of news readers reminiscent of, as John Oliver put it, mixing guacamole and Twizzlers.

In fact, if you still have questions about “native advertising,” let’s have Oliver answer them:

But as spooky and pukey as all that is, native advertising, sponsored content, or, as it is increasingly called (in a way that makes clear the sort of horrific human-animal hybrid nature of the beast), “native content” is theoretically transparent. Yes, surveys show that most readers don’t spot the difference, but it is presumably there, like the hidden objects in a Highlights puzzle.

When there is no discernible distinction, when there isn’t even a stealthy attempt to differentiate for the reader the way editorial content is influenced by advertising clients, well, that takes the whole business a sordid step further into the mire. And, with the revelations this week, it appears the Daily Telegraph has firmly put its foot in it.