The Digitalization Grinch Didn't Win (This Time)

Photo Credit: My Mom

Today I got to exhale.

For the past few weeks, my teammates and I at our village magazine have been under pressure. Our regular editorial meeting was interrupted by the municipal councillor responsible for our commission.

We learned that the municipality needed to cut costs and that, as part of a “zero-paper strategy,” it had decided to stop delivering our village magazine in print and make it available to residents in electronic form only.

It would be up to us to figure out exactly what this digital version should look like. To give us a little breathing room, the municipality would graciously allow one final print run and delivery in the first quarter of 2027.

How nice.

The reasons given for this decision? An unsubstantiated claim that 80% of our magazines end up in the recycling unread, and the argument that “other nearby municipalities are also going digital.”

Ouch.

As you can imagine, we were taken aback; especially those team members who have spent years working tirelessly and pouring their hearts and souls into producing a high-quality magazine.

Some basically said, “If the municipal council wants a digital version, good luck to them. I'm not available for evaluation, project management, implementation, or anything else.”

It's worth pointing out that, while we're not working entirely for free, the compensation we receive never comes close to covering the hours we put in.

Naturally, the news spread quickly throughout the village. At an event known as a “Polit-Apéro”,  an informal gathering where residents can meet members of the municipal council and discuss local issues, our village magazine became a hot topic.

We had also reached out to a few key figures in our community and asked them to speak up. And they did!

They told the municipal council exactly what they thought of the plan:

“Cutting costs in the wrong place.”

“We want to preserve a cultural treasure.”

“Everyday life is digital enough already. I'd rather read the magazine in print.”

“You spend money on all sorts of things, but this is where you want to cut back? No way!”

Even my 18-year-old son stepped up and made his voice heard. He pointed out that children and teenagers are part of our target audience, too. People are always complaining that young people are glued to their phones. Well, here's a chance to lure them away from their screens!

And it wasn't just the younger generation speaking up. The “boomers” had something to say, too. They don't particularly appreciate being forced to use a platform, an app, or an AI chatbot for every little transaction. They'd much rather have their magazine delivered on paper.

Hearing all these voices of support was heartwarming.

With the municipal assembly, where the 2027 budget was to be approved, less than three weeks away, the municipal council had to take another look at the numbers.

And so we arrived at last night.

It was a gray, rainy day. The kind of day when you'd much rather stay home than venture out again.

But 159 people showed up anyway.

The major items on the agenda included the renovation of the water pipes, making a bus stop accessible to people with disabilities, and a preliminary study on the renovation and repurposing of the old gymnasium. All these six-figure items were approved by the voters.

Then came the discussion of the 2027 municipal budget, and, in particular, the contentious issue of keeping our village magazine in print.

After a brief explanation, it was time to vote.

First, those opposed to the proposed increase in the budget?

Two hands went up.

Then came the question: Who was in favour?

We members of the magazine's editorial team had taken seats in the front rows, with a direct view of the lectern, ready to give the CFO some dirty looks if necessary. ;-)

So I dared to glance over my shoulder.

And what I saw reminded me of a blue wave sweeping across the room: hands raised everywhere, in overwhelming approval!

Can I just say: goosebumps.

Relief. Gratitude. Pride.

So many emotions at once.

I grew up in this village. I've known many of these people since childhood. Seeing them stand up for our magazine, and feeling their support and appreciation, meant more to me than I can put into words.

And I want to give credit where credit is due: our municipal council had the courage to reconsider its position and acknowledge that it had underestimated how much this magazine means to the community. That takes guts, and I respect them for it.

This is exactly how cooperation between local authorities and the public should work: stand firm on the issues, remain respectful on a personal level, and be willing to compromise when a better solution emerges. Ultimately, it's not about winning or losing. It's about listening to one another and finding a way forward together.

So, for 2027, we're back in business.

The “digitalization Grinch,” as our editor-in-chief calls it, hasn't disappeared entirely. The longer-term future of the magazine is still something we'll have to figure out.

But for now, we're grateful to be able to focus on what we're here to do: tell the stories of our village, its events, its people, and all its little quirks.