In an era when traditional newspapers struggle for readership, the satirical Onion has seen its readership steadily expand. The secret may lie not only in its humor, but in its radical redefinition of what is newsworthy.
Newspapers are in desperate need of reinvention. Readership, which had been steadily declining since the 1960s, has taken a nosedive with the promulgation of Internet news.
The Onion, meanwhile, has swelled to entertain more than 2 million readers a week. Beginning in a University of Wisconsin dorm room, it now provides free print copies in eight major American cities, commands a strong Web presence and publishes calendars and collections available in bookstores worldwide.
Its secret? A combination of comedy, make-believe and the inclusion of everyday reality.
Some of its headlines bypass reality altogether, like "Haunted Tape Dispenser Unsure How to Demonstrate Hauntedness."
The paper's genius, though, does not lie only in its humor. Gut-busting magazines have regularly exploded onto the scene only to fall into obsolescence. National Lampoon, anyone? MAD Magazine? The Onion, however, has inexorably expanded over a decade and a half.
A screwball international flap highlights another trick of the paper. A 2002 copy of the Beijing Evening News lifted The Onion's "Congress Threatens To Leave D.C. Unless New Capitol Is Built," presenting it as fact.
More than a million subscribers were surprised to read that American senators demanded more concession stands, better bathrooms and (most insistently) a retractable dome. The Evening News eventually retracted the article, saying that some American newspapers lie intentionally to make money.
Indeed it does. Its penchant for bending, stretching and wholly inventing relevant news is another part of its success. Playing on the fears and guilt of its readers, headlines have included "Report: Overseas Sweatshops Hurting U.S. Sweatshops" and "Revised Patriot Act Will Make It Illegal To Read Patriot Act."
The Onion calls attention to difficult truths by telling lies, which is probably close to the definition of satire. This, of course, is also beyond the ken of more "respectable" newspapers.
It is the newspaper's radical redefinition of "news," however, that propels it beyond the likes of "The Daily Show" to provide an example for the industry's more traditional members.
The Onion encompasses not only pressing matters of politics and society, but subjects of daily life.
Many of these call attention to the important yet unspoken realities of our society. For example, "Affluent White Man Enjoys, Causes The Blues" uncovers the constant endangerment of blue-collar workers and the irony of the cultured class.
America is a busy place. So many things happen that it is impossible to stay on top of even the most important, and being enthralled by the tyranny of the "current" can distract from the constant and more important social and political realities.
Most stories worth understanding are long ones whose roots span decades. Conventional newspapers, however, lean toward covering what is "pressing."
Fortunately, The Onion isn't the only publication to stray from this trend. The New York Times Magazine, the paper's Sunday supplement, regularly covers subjects too broad to fit into the daily news.
Then there's the top download on iTunes, NPR's program, "This American Life." In the last month it has introduced individuals' tales of foreign adoption, memories of Jack Abramoff as a schoolyard bully and rabid raccoons.
The true genius of The Onion is a redefinition of what constitutes "news." By elevating the reality that underlies what is "new" to press-worthy importance, it presents readers with a fuller, truer picture of the world.
And, of course, makes us laugh our asses off.
Brandon Hendrickson is a graduate of history and religious studies and realizes that explaining why things are funny is not funny. Send him your favorite Onion headline at: brandon.hendrickson@asu.edu.
