Seattle Post-Intelligencer, 1863-2009

Seattle’s oldest newspaper, the 146-year-old Seattle Post-Intelligencer, printed its last issue today. There’s a nice special commemorative section, and here is political cartoonist David Horsey’s tribute to the paper and its iconic globe:


The new Internet-only P-I will be a news aggregation site “featuring content from various Hearst-owned magazines, and… links to stories on competing Web sites.” The site will rely heavily on free content provided by 150 “reader bloggers” and guest columns by prominent local citizens. They promise to continue to do some local reporting and commentary, but the staff of 165 has been reduced to 20 (plus freelancers), and “the operation won’t have specific reporters, editors or producers — all staff are expected to write, edit, take photos, shoot video and produce multimedia.”

It’s possible that Seattle could become a no-newspaper town, as our last daily paper, the more conservative Seattle Times, is also in serious financial trouble.

Here are links to the P-I website, the New York Times article about the P-I’s transition to web-only, and an interesting series of posts from The Stranger’s Slog. (For those who aren’t from Seattle, The Stranger is the more snarky and entertaining of our free weeklies.)

One response to “Seattle Post-Intelligencer, 1863-2009

  1. This topic is of course being hotly discussed around the net but this post by Clay Shirky and the comments flying back and forth at Jon Taplin’s Blog are fuel to fire your thoughts by. I can’t stand the idea of not having a paper to drink my coffee with. And I couldn’t help noticing that the masthead on the Stranger’s Slog already calls it Seattle’s only newspaper.

    Remember in the original RollerBall with Jame’s Caan when Jonathan E wants to research what has happened and he goes to the library only to find out there aren’t any books anymore.

    You’re the researcher. You’re probably use to this environment. But even if a lot of people don’t read them anymore, it is still hard to picture a world without real newspapers.