Don’t bother crying foul over chequebook journalism

paul merrillMagazines have a long history of paying for tall tales simply because these stories sell. Paul Merrill debates the whys and wherefores of chequebook journalism

Years ago, when I was editing a women’s weekly mag, we were offered a story about a chicken that thought it was a dog. Sweet enough for a single pager, so we offered the owner around $100 and despatched a snapper to capture the chook in action. But we’d jumped the gun. Another mag had offered her $200, and no contract had been signed. As the photographer was going to cost us some $500, we upped our offer, and so did the other mag. Eventually, we paid this woman $650, and ended up with some photos of a chicken that looked like a chicken, and a few anecdotes about it enjoying running with the border collies.

Chequebook journalism sells magazines. Gone are the days when a case history would be so thrilled to be appearing in a national publication they wouldn’t even think about asking for money. These days, anyone with a dog-like hen would have Max Markson on speed dial.

But what are the limits? Channel Nine was berated a while back for allegedly offering a prostitute $60,000 to spill the beans on Craig Thomson. Yet paying a celebrity to kiss and tell on another celebrity is fine. Is that because hookers are less credible than famous people? Arguably both will do a lot if the money’s right.

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