This country’s media sector suffers from a paucity of authentic data that would enable one to make informed decisions. This is particularly surprising given Kenya’s strides in digital technology, education, and the sector’s vibrancy.

Information that ought to be readily accessible is sorely missing. What are the circulation figures of our newspapers, singularly and collectively? What is the pass-along rate of each paper? What is the reach of each media outlet: radio, television, newspaper, among others?

It is now common wisdom that the reach of the media is on the decline, but where are the figures that demonstrate the trend? What data is available to independently support this conclusion?

There is no agreement even on what should be the most obvious information in the public domain – the debt owed to media houses by the government. For a while now, the common wisdom on the street has been that the government owes media houses money accrued from services rendered through advertisement and that this is what ails the media sector. But even on such basic information, there is yet to be a consensus on the amount owed. The government and the media houses can’t agree on the outstanding figure.

Yes, in Kenya, even the simple matter that should be public, such as the ownership of media houses, is shrouded in mystery. Who owns what media houses, or how many shares do different shareholders have in the various media enterprises? Why should this information, which by law should be public, still be difficult to determine?

For a while now, players in the sector have argued how digital technologies are to blame for the plight of media houses. But how exactly has digital technology impacted the sector? Has it expanded or inhibited the reach of media houses?

What is the influence of media on the public? Apart from anecdotal statements made to prove a point, there is hardly a consensus or authentic research with findings to support one position or the other.
The matter of freedom of the press is hard to determine in an authentic way.

How do we define a journalist? How many of them do we have? Do we know the number of correspondents in the country? If a journalist is mugged on his way from the bank or is killed following a land dispute, is that a threat to the freedom of the press? The need for more data and clarity on old technology media also spreads to more recent technologies.

The Communication Authority provides updated data on the uptake of the more recent technologies. But what sense is the industry making of this information? It is not for lack of human labour on these matters that is an issue. Kenya boasts some of the best brains around. The problem could be placed elsewhere. It could be our value system – the fear of truth.

Some data should be easily available. The circulation figures of any newspaper could be quickly determined by tabulating the returns to the media house at the end of the day. Why would it be difficult to collate the figures, do simple maths, and provide a global picture? Except that it may not be good for business.

The value system could be to blame – doing dishonest business is privileged. It is easier to inflate the figures and raise advertising rates based on false assumptions. To what could we attribute the declining balance sheets of the media houses? Is it to the impact of technology, business practices or other factors? Without research, the conclusion is left to guess work.

Our culture in research is equally wanting. Researchers, in most cases, and one needs to sample graduate work from our universities, do not follow research protocols strictly. Their conclusions are, therefore, not very helpful.

Much research is driven by NGO agenda. Sponsors of studies have specific objectives which is all that is answered. Understanding the sector requires synthesising all the data and still probably not get the correct position. With all the resources Kenya has, the media sector should not be this opaque.

— The writer is Dean, School of Communication, Daystar University