I'm a small town kind of guy. The place that I call home
credits itself with a singular road in or out, a perimeter of fields, about 4
churches and the same amount of pubs; and that’s about it. No train stations
connecting us to anywhere or endless floods of people rushing like salmon
through busy streets. It’s not at all surprising then that, stepping off of the
Temple line underground train, on my way to meet an extremely well established
and credited national journalist come charity chairman for a one on one meeting
in Somerset house, the main emotions flooding through me were apprehension and
a sense of not belonging.
The journalist I had travelled to London to see was
Charles Clover, former Environment editor at The Daily Telegraph and current columnist at The Sunday Times. As well as winning the British Environment and Media’s National Journalist of the Year
award in 1989, 1994 and 1996, he is also the chairman of his own founded
organisation, The Blue Marine Foundation,
and the author of The End of the Line
– a book turned film about the consequences of overfishing on the seas. So my
apprehension is understandable, I wasn't meeting the local sports writer but
rather a man who has a serious voice in the journalistic world. Unlike my
home-town, this journalist is well connected to the outside world.
To start at the beginning, for a views months I have had the
good fortune to have started a dialogue between myself and Mr Clover, all
through the chance that my flatmate happened to of mentioned she knew the
journalist through her family. After sending a copy of my CV and an example of
my work, he was gracious enough to allow me to meet him at The Blue Marine Foundation headquarters, based in Somerset House in
London for a coffee and a chat about the industry.
Sitting there, in a cobbled courtyard surrounded by the
stunningly bourgeoisie architecture of Somerset House, with a coffee and a
croissant and talking about the nature of journalism with a well-established
journalist, it was hard not to stifle
the feeling of awe and keep up the image of confidence and belonging that I
worked so hard to build. The importance of postgraduate degrees and NCTJ’s in
journalism, the core skills fundamental to success, and the tricky and illusive
nature of nepotism and the crucial process of networking – we spoke at length
about all of this, yet not in the mechanically formal way I had envisioned.
Instead the conversation was fluid and full of insightful stories, anecdotes
laden with tricks of the field that told me more about what to do than a bullet
point list of abstracts ever could. It was colloquial and relaxed, and even
though when I left all I had with me was a scarcely touched notepad and clean,
inkless fingers, I felt infinitely more informed than when I had arrived.
The best was yet to come. I had expected a short meeting
over a coffee and then quick farewells and that would be it. Especially given
the release of the Tory Manifesto on the same day which held huge repercussions
for The Blue Marine Foundation,
making it more than a standard day at the office for Mr Clover. Yet, despite
all of this I was offered the chance to become a fly on the wall for a crucial
day in a charitable lobbyist environment and watch the formulation and
circulation of a national story. I won’t speak too much about this, but
watching the teamwork and unity that was present in making this story was
fascinating. The attention to every syllable and the contacts they used to get
the word out quickly gave me my first formal glimpse of what a career in this
environment would be like. It was enthralling.
As I left I was given the email address for a senior
political journalist at The Sunday Times and
a recommendation from Mr Clover (yet somehow I still managed to hide the
project X party going on inside me and appear at least semi-professional) and
that was it. It didn’t really hit me until I was safely Chichester-bound on the
train, but I had just had my first glimpse at the inner-circle of journalism
and had been given an opportunity to experience it again. I think the man sat
opposite me mistook me for emoji given the size of the smile on my face.
It is often said that journalism is a field primarily based
around nepotism; that it is not what you do but rather who you know that will
cement your career in the field. Call me an optimist or a naïve dreamer, but
this view has always felt too cynical for me to believe. I still believe that
it’s your commitment and intelligence that define you, but knowing a couple of
the right people sure as hell doesn't hurt your chances.
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