According to Alfred Harmsworth, founder of both the Daily Mirror and Daily Mail, news is "what somebody somewhere wants to suppress; the rest is advertising". By this yardstick, Harmsworth would have agreed that the WikiLeaks Afghan war diary is a remarkable news event. But he would have had no truck with the argument mounted by WikiLeaks' founder Julian Assange that the move represents a triumph of transparency over interpretation. "Hard news catches readers," Harmworth believed. "Features hold them."
He knew what he was talking about. Without the analyses, comment and explanation provided by experienced journalists, the documents would have sat on the WikiLeaks website attracting the interest only of those with a fervid interest in the conflict. The White House and the Pentagon would have barely stirred.
On an infinitesimally smaller scale, I have my own example of the limits of data journalism. I'm taking part in a project called Help Me Investigate, a collaborative venture that aims to pursue matters of public interest, and I recently visited the town hall in Brighton to inspect the spending records of parliamentary candidates in the Brighton Pavilion constituency during the general election. The council staff were perfectly accommodating and pleasant. In other areas of the country, it has been reported, there is some confusion over what we are allowed to see and to record. I think this stems from the fact that, up to now, very little interest has been paid to this frankly less than incendiary topic.
A desk was found for me in a quiet corner, I was handed a ringbinder bulging with paperwork and I was left to get on with it. Did I uncover evidence of cupidity among our would-be legislators? Sadly, no. It will come as no surprise to learn that the main candidates spent their largest sums on flyers, leaflets, posters and other bumf destined for the landfill. Unless you are the type to be shocked by the fact that Green candidate (and election winner) Caroline Lucas received a non-cash donation from the Political Animal Lobby or that Tory candidate Charlotte Vere forked out £41 for Google Ads, there is nothing in these documents to stir the blood.
That's neither here nor there, say the proponents of data journalism. The fact that the expenses forms start life as Excel documents means it shouldn't be beyond the wit of our electoral services offices to store the results electronically and upload them onto a site where anybody with sufficient curiosity can inspect them. Well, yes. But don't imagine that this exercise in itself will be sufficient to hold our lawmakers to account. The Apathetic Tendency is probably the largest single political group in the country and its members have every right to expect the more engaged among us to do their donkey work for them.
To take an example from the world of finance and business: for a small fee you can sign up to Companies House Direct and fill your days inspecting the accounts of businesses registered in the United Kingdom. Will you do this? Of course not – you have a life. Quite sensibly, you will leave it to financial journalists to sift a company's data, compare results and call up the financial director to ask impertinent questions.
Data sites are proliferating and many of them are excellent – UN Data, data.gov, and the Guardian's own Datablog among them. But consider this: Julian Assange did not upload the classified documents and wait for the world to beat a path to his door. He entered into a partnership with media outlets he knew would give prominence to the material. Like Alfred Harmsworth before him, Assange understands that without the oxygen of publicity, data dies unread.