Tim Sprinkle

End of the Line for News Romantics

The BBC's Andrew Marr takes on the changing face of the news business, explaining why it's an exciting time for journalists. In fact, he calls the future "liberating for those that want to keep up with events."

The question, of course, is whether or not anyone will want to keep up with the news anymore, when it's not packaged and presented in easy, familiar ways.

I think it isn't long before in news terms, there is hardly any distinction between broadcasting and newspapers. This singularity is almost here.

On my iPad, I will follow a political crisis in real time, merging commentators and video clips, a little bit of Nick Robinson here and some Simon Jenkins there.

A screen is a book, a news magazine, a film screen, an audio feed. The BBC and the Times will more than ever find themselves jostling in the same business, not casting, not printing but two newsbrokers. Words change their meaning all the time: perhaps "newsagent" is next.

There are dangers and sadnesses embedded in the shift. There's the problem of endlessness and ubiquity. If something is always available, like tap water, you tend to value it less.

As news ceases to be gathered round the event of a big-guns bulletin, or a wad of Sunday newsprint, it bubbles along and becomes easier, not harder, to disregard.