Hungary Enters Post-Print Age as Political Dailies Disappear

End of an era Urban believes that printed political newspapers could survive for another decade or so in larger European countries, but in smaller markets they are fast becoming an unsustainable business. Printing and distribution costs simply cannot compete with the economics of online publishing. “Hungary is once again a pioneer, partly because the Orban government captured much of the media market,” Urban says. “It took control of most publishing houses and kept them afloat through state advertising and politically motivated advertising contracts.” But as their content became more ideological and one-sided, readers deserted them. Most established media brands have now lost their credibility to such an extent that they can no longer sustain themselves on the competitive market or rely on subscriptions. Nepszava’s story is somewhat different. Although it has been a consistent critic of the Orban government, it also relied – for the most part – on government advertising for the past four years. When Orban’s government lost power in the April 12 election, those revenues evaporated overnight. “The journalists at Nepszava clearly produced critical reporting on the government,” Urban admits. “But, unfortunately, the company behind the newspaper was not financially independent from the state.” Now struggling to survive as an online-only publication, Nepszava is finding that competition in the digital market is fierce. “We are in a lose-lose situation,” admits Nepszava’s Horvath. “Without a print edition, we have lost our subscribers. We don’t have advertisements either. So, at the moment, we have no revenue at all.” Both Nepszava and Magyar Nemzet have fallen well behind their competitors in the online news market. During the Orban years, many of Hungary’s independent media outlets reinvented themselves as online platforms and managed to develop sustainable business models while maintaining editorial independence. Many operate behind paywalls and most receive some EU grant funding, while traditional advertising has only slowly returned – if at all. Magyar Hang, for example, a critical weekly newspaper, was forced to find a printing house in Slovakia when its business was turned away by a printing and distribution sector consolidated in the hands of Orban allies, but this helped the paper maintain its independence. “Being online became a kind of guarantee of independence, while most of the print media was captured,” Urban points out. The consequence is that many of the media outlets that were close to Orban’s government now find themselves on the brink following the April election. Regional newspapers, once an important source of information (disinformation, critics would argue) outside of Budapest and pillars of local communities, are also being converted into weeklies by August 1. Some pro-government outlets such as the tabloid Bors have already been closed, while others are making major layoffs. The weekly Mandiner, which also has a strong online presence, has reportedly laid off more than half its staff. Some wonder how historians will evaluate this period in Hungary 50 or 100 years from now if no printed archives remain. In theory, the information will survive online, but all it takes is for someone to flick a switch for an archive to become inaccessible. “It is a legitimate concern that online news could simply disappear if the servers are shut down,” Urban warns. “That would mean that stories, investigations and entire archives of media content could become inaccessible.” Still, she believes there is no way back for print dailies. Weekly publications, offering more in-depth reporting, interviews and features, may still have a future, but online media is simply unbeatable when it comes to breaking news. “This is another trend where Hungary is, sadly, once again a trendsetter,” Urban says. “But sooner or later, the rest of Europe will follow.”