The publishing world in general -- and the newspaper sector in particular -- has not been noted for being able to quickly shift gears when a technological paradigm shift happens out in the world at large. Print journalism has resisted such changes with stupefying short-sightedness, which partially (if not largely) explains why they're in such a downward spiral these days. If newspapers had embraced new technologies instead of scorned them, they'd be in a much stronger position than they are now. As but one easy example of this, imagine if newspapers had banded together and launched their own competitor to Craigslist and EBay roughly a decade ago. If they had created a "ClassifiedAds.com" of their own then they wouldn't have been so decimated by the disappearance of one of their revenue streams -- the classic classified ads section. But they refused to keep up with the changing marketplace, and now those dollars are forever gone to the newspaper industry.

But newspapers' woes don't end there, of course. They strongly defend their philosophical ways of doing things, because (1) they have a rather outsized opinion of their own worth, and (2) they cannot for the life of them see why they should change the way they've been operating for roughly the last 90-100 years. In a single phrase, newspapers see themselves as "gatekeepers" of the "serious opinions" the public should be exposed to. Such gatekeeperism has been on display in the discussions of how the venerable Washington Post might change, now that an online entrepreneur has bought it, lock, stock, and printing press.

The Huffington Post just highlighted the worst example of this from last Sunday's political chat shows on television, and while they did an exemplary job I feel further deconstruction is necessary. David Brooks, in discussing the online changes in the journalism business, falls back on the sneering contempt print journalists have long voiced towards the blogosphere:

Yeah, I think the audience has changed online. I think there's been a return to authority. You know, I used to read blogs, and you'd kind of be reading something interesting, and then the blogger would write, "Well, I've got to quit now. I'm going off to junior high." I realized I'd been reading a 12-year-old.

But I think there has been a return away from some of that toward, whether it's online or in print, a return to quality. People who actually make the calls, who are not speculating, who are reporting. And I think there's been a return to that sort of stuff.

And so I'm a little more of the belief that the old media is going to continue. Look at ebooks; they've hit a plateau. Look at online; it's hitting a plateau, I think. And so I think we're going to be stunned by how much of the old media, whether it's delivered online or not, is going to be around, as the audience returns to authority.

Kara Swisher, an online editor, took exception to the breathtaking elitism Brooks displayed:

I think people are just resistant to the change, and they have to say "blogs" as if it's an insult. They have to, like, separate them. And they're all part of a living, breathing news organization that has to use these tools. It's like arguing against printing presses. You know, monks arguing against Gutenberg. I just don't understand why --

At this point, Brooks tries to fit the changing world we live in into a comfortable "if we ignore the online world, it'll just go away" bit of head-in-the-sand-ism:

Yes, I'm not sure we're disagreeing. I would say when you look at projections of the future, go back, look at how people predicted the future, they always underestimated the extent of technological change. They always overestimated a sense of behavioral change. So the technology's going to change, but what people want to read is going to be basically the same --

To which Swisher responds with a hard cold slap of reality:

But the consumers are way ahead of you.

I don't mean to jump all over David Brooks and his obvious desire for a return to those gauzy, halcyon days when the public revered the Voice Of Authority emanating from the pages of Very Serious Newspapers across the land -- he's just the most recent and most convenient example of this type of antediluvian thinking. He's certainly not alone in his belief that if everyone just calms down for a minute, they'll all realize how valuable the gatekeeping function of newspapers truly is, and that they'll all reach for the phone to renew their subscription to the local printed newspaper of their choice (while canceling their online access as superfluous and unnecessary).

Brooks doesn't work for the Washington Post, which has actually done a fairly good job of bringing some bloggers on board in order to keep up with the changing times. Ezra Klein and Greg Sargent were both prominent bloggers before joining the Post, and they also have bloggers from the righty point of view, for balance. These have been valuable additions to the Post, and generate oodles of online views, at least as measured by their comment sections.

But Brooks' attitude towards anyone who did not enter the gate that major newspapers are supposed to keep is nothing short of breathtaking in its scorn and elitism. After all, if Brooks really had been reading a 12-year-old, finding his or her reasoning and writing skills interesting and competent, then what does it really matter how old they are? What does it matter if they draw a paycheck from a large newspaper or not if their writing is compelling and original?

Brooks has apparently convinced himself that online readers are returning "to quality," or to "people who actually make the calls, who are not speculating, who are reporting." Brooks longs for the days when the gatekeepers were godlike in their powers of keeping the riffraff from the eyes of the public. Without a shred of evidence, he projects his wish onto the public at large, stating that their is an enormous movement back to the voice of "authority."

Except, you know, for the dying newspaper industry. The fact that the Post had to put itself up for sale is completely ignored by Brooks, which is odd, since that was supposed to be the topic under discussion in the first place. By virtually every metric, newspapers are on a downward spiral. Perhaps being sold to a man who knows how to make money online will revitalize the Washington Post, but the fact that the paper had to put itself up for sale absolutely contradicts Brooks's assertion that people are flocking back to the voices of "authority" rather than reading more interesting commentary by others online.

Swisher is right -- the consumers are way ahead of Brooks and his refusal to come to terms with the new online reality. Perhaps it is just the fear that David Brooks could be replaced just about any old time by a younger and hungrier pundit who is capable of writing far more interesting columns, and who would likely do so for half of Brooks's current salary.

Don't get me wrong -- I often enjoy reading columns by David Brooks. He attempts to be a centrist voice on the Right, and this often leads him into amusing pretzel-bends of logic which are entertaining to read. He has the capacity, when all else fails, to realize that the Republican Party did something wrong or just plain stupid, and this is indeed a valuable thing in any partisan commentator. But his refusal to admit that his own professional world is not just changing but already has changed in a major way shows exactly the type of thinking that, hopefully, Jeff Bezos can change at the Post. Because out in the real world, the audience for political commentary is hungry for a lot more interesting voices than just David Brooks. The sooner he (and his ideological kin in the industry) realizes this fact, the better.

-- Chris Weigant

Follow Chris on Twitter: @ChrisWeigant