Media Theory & Philosophy — Understand the Medium You’re Shaping
AI image by Local Pigeon.
Media Philosophy Behind Soundbites: How Format Shapes Trust, Memory, and Civic Action
How do we build a truly engaging and trustworthy local media platform in the age of “soundbites”? The answer might lie not just in what we say, but how we say it. Throughout history, great thinkers have warned that every medium – from print to television to TikTok – has its own hidden grammar that shapes our messages. As Marshall McLuhan famously put it, “the medium is the message.” Today, local journalists and civic media creators are pioneering a new medium: micro-audio updates (or “soundbites”) that convey news in 30 seconds or less. Before we flood our communities with bite-sized audio, we’d do well to pause and learn from the philosophers of media who came before us.
This post explores insights from five luminaries – Marshall McLuhan, Neil Postman, Walter J. Ong, J. L. Austin, and sound studies scholars like R. Murray Schafer and Michel Chion – and shows how their ideas can guide the design of a micro-audio platform. We’ll see why the format itself can matter as much as the content: how a 30-second voice clip can either enlighten or “amuse us to death”; how spoken updates can carry a warmth that text lacks; how a snippet of sound can do things (issue invitations, spark actions) beyond just talking; and how sound design (pacing, tone, transitions) can make or break trust and clarity. Along the way, we’ll draw connections to HastingsNow’s Soundbites model – a new “little mic” approach for local news in Hastings, MN – to illustrate these principles in action.
By the end, you’ll understand that designing a great local audio platform isn’t just a technical challenge or a content problem – it’s a media philosophy challenge. To build community trust and engagement, we must optimize for the cognitive “grammar” of micro-audio, not just for clicks or listens. Let’s dive into the wisdom of media theory and discover how to shape our new medium thoughtfully and intentionally.
Marshall McLuhan:
The Medium Is the Message
(Format > Content)
Over 50 years ago, media theorist Marshall McLuhan dropped a profound insight: “the medium is the message.” What does that mean? McLuhan argued that the form of a medium – whether it’s a book, a TV broadcast, or a 30-second audio clip – embeds itself in the message, influencing how the message is perceived more than the actual content does . In other words, format speaks louder than words. A breaking news alert on Twitter feels urgent and ephemeral; the same words expanded in a newspaper article feel measured and authoritative. The medium itself shapes our psychic and social responses .
For local media creators, McLuhan’s warning is clear: pay attention to the format and user experience of micro-audio, because it will profoundly shape the audience’s response. A 30-second soundbite is not just a “shorter version” of a news article; it’s a different medium altogether, with its own constraints and effects. Micro-audio’s “message” (in McLuhan’s sense) includes the change of scale and pace it introduces to public discourse . When you compress a community update into half a minute of spoken word, you amplify certain qualities: immediacy, emotion, and brevity – while reducing others: context, detail, and analysis. This new scale of communication will reorganize how people consume and act on information . It might foster quicker interactions and more real-time awareness, but it could also encourage short attention spans.
Designing the “grammar” of micro-audio means optimizing everything from clip length and script style to the listening interface, so that the format best delivers your goals. For example, do your 30-second clips follow a clear structure (a quick setup and a compelling key point) that fits how people listen? Is there a consistent pacing or audio cue that signals transitions, helping the audience cognitively parse each snippet? McLuhan would say these format choices will speak louder than your actual words. If the experience feels chaotic or gimmicky, no amount of good content will fully overcome that, because the medium’s inherent message will be confusion.
On the flip side, a well-crafted medium can enhance trust and clarity by its very form. Consider how HastingsNow’s Soundbites system has embraced this principle. It doesn’t treat audio clips as throwaway containers for news; it treats the format as the product. Every Soundbite is kept to ≤30 seconds and packaged with visual transcripts and source tags, designing a standardized “unit” of content . By doing so, the platform creates a new pattern for local news consumption – one that is fast, focused, and easy to recall. The medium’s message (quick, clear updates) supports the content’s purpose (informing the community) rather than undermining it. As McLuhan noted, “the content of any medium is always another medium”, and here the content of these audio posts includes text (transcripts) and context labels as part of the medium . The lesson: when you innovate in local media, think first about format. If you get the micro-audio format right, you’re halfway to getting the message right.
Neil Postman: Entertainment vs. “Mind-Candy” – Depth After the Bite
While McLuhan celebrated media’s power, Neil Postman offered a cautionary tale about its perils. In Amusing Ourselves to Death (1985), Postman argued that television had converted public discourse into entertainment, eroding our capacity for seriousness. He warned that when news is delivered as fast-paced, attention-grabbing segments – always interrupted by music or commercials – it turns important information into a packaged commodity of amusement . In other words, if we’re not careful, bite-sized media can drift into “mind-candy”: tasty but nutritionless content that merely entertains, instead of informing or provoking thought.
This is directly relevant to micro-audio “soundbites.” On one hand, brevity and fun can engage busy audiences – a little auditory candy to catch attention. But Postman would urge us: don’t let “bite-size” drift into “mind-candy.” If every local news soundbite is engineered only to spark a dopamine hit – a catchy jingle, a sensational quote, a gimmicky voice – we risk colonizing civic discourse with pure entertainment logic. Important community issues might get trivialized into mere “soundbite wars”, lacking context or depth. Postman noted that television news, with its upbeat music and charismatic “talking hairdos,” often cannot be taken seriously as news . Likewise, a stream of playful audio clips could become background noise in people’s lives – mildly amusing but hardly prompting any civic action.
So how do we harness the appeal of short-form audio without losing substance? The key is to build affordances for depth after the bite. A soundbite should be a doorway, not a dead-end. Think of it as the appetizer that should lead to a main course for those who want more. In practical terms, this means designing your platform such that each 30-second clip links to context: a source, a longer article, an event page, or an invitation to learn more. HastingsNow’s Soundbites model bakes this in by attaching “How We Know” evidence labels and even a measurable outcome (like a QR code or link) to each voice post . The format itself nudges the user toward verification and action – e.g. “Here’s a 30s summary of the school board meeting; tap to see the full minutes or RSVP for the next meeting.” This guards against the “fast-food news” effect. The quick audio updates are nutritious snacks, not empty calories.
To illustrate, let’s draw a quick comparison between a healthy soundbite and a junky “sound candy”:
Soundbite (Nutritious Micro-Audio)
Informs or prompts action: Contains a real update or call-to-action, plus pointers to learn more (sources, links).
Authentic voice & substance: Speaker shares genuine information or perspective (e.g. a fact, a useful tip, an invite to an event).
Context included: Labeled with source or evidence (“How we know”), reinforcing credibility and depth .
Encourages engagement: Offers next steps (learn more link, event signup, survey) to convert attention into involvement.
Builds trust over time: By consistently delivering honest, relevant bites with follow-through, it earns audience trust.
“Sound Candy” (Empty-Calorie Micro-Audio)
Merely entertains: A catchy clip designed only for clicks or laughs, with no follow-up or context provided.
Sensationalism: Speaker goes for shock or humor value, possibly exaggerating or trivializing to grab attention.
Context-free: No indication of sources; the audience is left with a one-liner that may mislead or raise questions.
Encourages passivity: The audience consumes it and scrolls on, with no clear way to act or delve deeper.
Erodes trust: Over time, audiences may feel talked down to or manipulated by constant fluff, hurting credibility.
Neil Postman would applaud the left column. He believed each medium can only sustain a certain level of ideas . If we want soundbites to sustain serious ideas, we must actively prevent the slide into pure entertainment. That doesn’t mean soundbites should be dry or boring – far from it. It means mixing pleasure with purpose. A local news clip can have a light, engaging tone and carry meaningful info. You might include a quick joke or a bit of personality (after all, we want local media to be lively), but ensure the audience walks away with more than a chuckle.
In Postman’s analysis, form excludes content – complex rational arguments struggle on a platform made for images and amusement . To avoid that fate, we can extend the form. For example, your micro-audio platform might allow listeners to queue up multiple bites for a deeper dive: a 30-second summary followed by an optional two-minute explainer or an interview snippet, etc. That way, those who want substance can get it in layered “bites” that fit the format. Another strategy is the “series” approach: instead of trying to pack everything into one clip, do a week-long series of daily soundbites on a complex issue, each tackling one facet. By day five, engaged listeners have a composite understanding – effectively a deeper story delivered in installments.
Postman’s core message for local journalists is a moral one: don’t underestimate the intelligence of your audience, even if you cater to short attention spans. Give people entry points into complexity. If we treat every soundbite as an invitation to go deeper (rather than a shiny object to distract), we uphold a commitment to informed discourse. We prove that even in 30 seconds, we respect our community’s need for truth over titillation. In short, keep the candy to a minimum and make each bite count.
Walter J. Ong: Orality and Literacy – Designing for the Spoken Word
What makes a spoken update fundamentally different from a written article or a text post? For that, we turn to Walter J. Ong, a scholar who studied the contrasts between oral and literate cultures. In his book Orality and Literacy (1982), Ong showed that spoken language carries memory, relationship, and presence in ways that text does not . Humans communicated orally for millennia before writing was invented, and our brains are wired to process voice in a deeply social and contextual way.
Ong noted that in purely oral cultures, words are events – they exist in time, sounded into the air and then gone, except as remembered in the minds of people . “Without writing, words have no visual presence… They are sounds. You might ‘call’ them back – ‘re-call’ them. But there is nowhere to ‘look’ for them. They have no focus and no trace… They are occurrences, events,” he writes . This has big implications: oral communication tends to be additive, rhythmic, and repetitious (think of storytelling techniques, proverbs, songs) to aid memory since there’s no written record. It’s also inherently personal and “empathetic” – knowledge is passed face-to-face, creating a communal bond . By contrast, writing and print allow us to detach information from any one person; text can be stored, analyzed objectively, and read silently in isolation. Literacy favors structure, abstraction, and “objective distance” .
When we design a micro-audio platform, we are firmly in Ong’s realm of secondary orality – a return to spoken communication, but now technologized (broadcast via smartphones instead of campfires). To succeed, we should “design for orality.” That means leveraging the strengths of voice: its warmth, its ability to convey emotion and personality, and its power to create a sense of presence (the feeling that “you are hearing a real person in real time”). It also means being aware of orality’s challenges: spoken words can be misremembered, they disappear into the air unless recorded, and they rely heavily on context (tone of voice, shared knowledge) for meaning .
Here are some practical design insights drawn from Ong’s orality concepts:
Memory & Repetition: Oral communication often uses repetition and redundancy to help the listener retain information (think of a great speech that repeats a key phrase). In a local audio update, it might help to emphasize the main point twice in different ways. E.g., start with “The City Council approved the new park budget…” and end with “…so yes, the park budget is officially approved.” This ensures the core fact sticks, even if someone’s attention drifted for a second. A little redundancy can counteract the ephemeral nature of speech.
Empathy & Presence: Ong observed that oral cultures are more empathetic and participatory, whereas literate cultures allow more detachment . A voice recording carries a human presence that text can’t match. You can hear if the speaker is nervous, smiling, or passionate. For local media, this is gold: hearing a neighbor’s authentic voice can build communal identification (“I know that shop owner – I recognize her voice and trust her”). Design your platform to highlight the human source – show the speaker’s name and perhaps photo alongside the audio, so the audience pictures a real person speaking, not a faceless announcer. This aligns with how HastingsNow’s Soundbites verifies and labels each voice post with the speaker’s identity and status (resident, business owner, city leader, etc.), reinforcing that sense of personal connection .
Context & “Real-Life Setting”: In oral expression, words’ meanings are tied to the immediate context – gestures, shared knowledge, the here-and-now . A 30-second audio clip doesn’t allow long preambles, so much of its meaning comes from context. Encourage speakers to situate their soundbite in a specific moment or place. For example: “I’m standing here at Hastings High’s science fair, and…” or “As a downtown shop owner for 20 years, I can tell you…”. This paints a scene for the listener, leveraging what Chion (a sound scholar we’ll discuss soon) would call added value of sound – the way aural details enrich imagination. It also helps ground the message in a real, present situation, which oral communication excels at .
Oral-style narrative: People speak more spontaneously than they write. Embrace a conversational tone in soundbites – it’s okay if it’s not perfectly polished prose. In fact, a too-scripted delivery might sound sterile and reduce trust. Listeners appreciate the little quirks in a voice, the informal phrasing, even an occasional “um” or self-correction – these signal authenticity. (Of course, clarity matters too; a completely rambling or incoherent clip won’t serve anyone. Finding the sweet spot between casual and clear is key.)
Ong’s work suggests that by making the most of orality, we make media more human. HastingsNow explicitly emphasizes this: “There’s power in hearing someone’s voice tell their story. Voice carries emotion, personality, and authenticity that text alone may lack.” . In the Soundbites model, a 30-second voice post allows neighbors to literally hear each other – the excitement in a volunteer’s voice about a fundraiser, or the reassurance in a police officer’s tone during a safety update. This spoken warmth can foster a close, empathetic identification in the community, strengthening trust. As one of HastingsNow’s community posts put it, voice makes local media “more human and more accessible” .
Designers can also take a cue from oral traditions by encouraging call-and-response dynamics. Perhaps your platform allows listeners to quickly record a reply or follow-up question (like a modern “talking stick”). Or hosts could curate multiple voices on a topic, creating a polyphony rather than a single narrator – much like an oral debate or discussion circle. This participatory element taps into the communal nature of oral culture, where learning is a shared social act .
The big takeaway from Ong: Don’t treat audio posts as just written articles read aloud. They are a revival of oral storytelling. When done right, they carry a sense of now – a living voice speaking to you, engaging your ears and heart. If we design local micro-audio with that in mind, we harness an age-old power: the village hearth, the public forum, the feeling of listening to people we know. In an era when digital media often feels impersonal, that authenticity is priceless.
J. L. Austin & Speech-Act Theory: Soundbites Do Things (Illocutionary Force)
“So… is a 30-second clip really going to change anything, or is it just info?” This is where speech-act theory, pioneered by philosopher J. L. Austin, offers a crucial insight: words are actions. When people speak, they’re not only saying something, they’re also doing something – whether that’s making a promise, issuing an invitation, asking a question, or giving a warning. Austin distinguished between the locutionary content (the literal words and their meaning) and the illocutionary force (the act performed by the utterance) . For example, if I say, “Is there any salt?” at the dinner table, my locution is a question about salt, but my illocution is a request – effectively, “Please pass the salt” . The former is information; the latter is action.
Why does this matter for micro-audio? Because a well-crafted soundbite should have illocutionary punch. Instead of seeing each clip as a tiny info dump, we can design them as speech-acts that get things done in the community. Imagine a local government uses a Soundbite to say “We hereby invite all residents to the town hall next Tuesday” – that’s not just news, it’s an act of inviting (and it carries an expectation that people might attend). A business might record: “I promise you’ve never tasted ribs as good as what we’re cooking up for Saturday’s BBQ – come try!” That clip is performing the act of promising (and maybe a bit of enticing). A police chief’s 30-second update might assure the public that a situation is under control, which is an act of reassurance, not merely a statement of fact.
Austin’s terms sound academic, but the idea is simple: in micro-audio, focus on what each clip does, not just what it says. When planning content, local media creators can ask: Do we want this soundbite to reassure, to motivate, to challenge, to celebrate, to warn? By identifying the intended speech-act, the speaker can tune their delivery for maximum illocutionary force – the quality that makes the listener understand the action being performed . This often involves clarity of tone and the right phrasing. For instance, to make a genuine promise or commitment in a clip, the speaker should say it in first person and perhaps even use performative words (“I pledge that…” or “We commit to…”), because as Austin noted, making it clear to the audience that an act is being performed is part of successfully performing it . A soundbite saying “There will be a charity drive tomorrow” is informative; one that says “I invite you to join our charity drive tomorrow” is performative – it’s actually enacting an invitation.
From a design perspective, a micro-audio platform could incorporate categories or tags for the type of speech-act. Maybe when a user submits a Soundbite, they choose an “action tag”: Announcement, Invitation, Alert, Testimonial, Question, etc. This tag could then be displayed or even spoken as an intro (imagine a gentle earcon or voiced prompt: “Announcement from City Hall: …” versus “Question from a Resident: …”). This primes listeners to receive the illocutionary intent. It’s a bit like the convention “PSA” (public service announcement) or “breaking news” labels in broadcasting – those tell us how to listen (is this advisory? urgent? etc.).
Illocutionary force also ties directly into user engagement design. If a soundbite is asking something of the audience (e.g. “Will you volunteer this Saturday?” – which is an appeal or request), the platform should provide a frictionless way for the listener to respond or comply (a one-tap RSVP, a voice reply feature, etc.). This completes the speech-act loop: the utterance invites an action and the medium facilitates it. Consider HastingsNow’s approach: every Soundbite post is linked to one specific outcome or call-to-action – a QR code to scan, a sign-up link, a phone number, etc. . This isn’t random; it’s speech-act theory in practice. The clips aren’t just floating sounds; they do work – they ask listeners to do something, and the system tracks that outcome. By optimizing each clip for an illocutionary goal (be it informing, inviting, thanking, persuading), the platform converts attention into action .
Austin also talked about perlocutionary effects – the actual results an utterance has on the listener, which might not be fully controllable (e.g. convincing someone, scaring them, making them laugh). We can’t guarantee perlocutionary effects, but we can design for positive ones. For instance, the tone of a soundbite can affect whether it calms people or panics them. A weather emergency update spoken calmly but firmly is likely to have the perlocutionary effect of reassurance plus prompt compliance, whereas a frantic voice might spread anxiety. Training local officials and contributors in basic voice delivery techniques becomes important: how to speak clearly, at a measured pace, and with a tone that matches the intended action (a celebratory event announcement should sound upbeat; a solemn warning should sound serious but controlled).
At its heart, speech-act theory reminds us that information is not the endgame; impact is. Especially in local media, we don’t just inform to inform – we inform to inspire, to mobilize, to build connections. A micro-audio platform that treats soundbites as tiny speeches (in the Austin sense) will craft more purposeful content. Each clip then carries a little directive or transformative potential: this one builds community pride (by congratulating a local hero), that one sparks a neighborly favor (by asking for help with a food drive), another fosters accountability (by making a public commitment on record).
In short, think of your local Soundbites as speech-acts at scale – hundreds of small spoken actions continuously weaving the fabric of community life. By optimizing for illocutionary force, you ensure those words aren’t just heard and forgotten, but heard and acted upon. As Austin would say, you’re not just saying things with Soundbites; you’re doing things with Soundbites.
Sound Studies (R. Murray Schafer & Michel Chion): Crafting a Sonic Ecology and “Audio-Vision”
We’ve talked about content and speech, but what about the sound itself – the sensory, material aspect of audio? This is where sound studies experts like R. Murray Schafer and Michel Chion come in. They invite us to consider the sonic environment and design: how clarity, noise, music, and context sounds affect the listening experience.
R. Murray Schafer, a composer and founder of acoustic ecology, famously studied soundscapes – the ambient sounds of environments – and differentiated between hi-fi soundscapes (where sounds are clear, with low background noise, like a quiet village where you can hear a faraway bell) and lo-fi soundscapes (noisy urban environments where signals get drowned in cacophony). One of his goals was to reduce noise pollution and improve the quality of what we hear every day. In a digital context, we can translate Schafer’s insights as follows: make your audio content as “hi-fi” as possible, in terms of signal-to-noise ratio.
This starts with technical clarity: ensuring that each soundbite is recorded with minimal background noise and good volume levels. It might mean giving contributors basic tips (or software filters) to avoid windy mics, echoes, or blaring car horns in the background. A clear voice recording is more trustworthy and pleasant to hear, enhancing both comprehension and credibility. Listeners subconsciously associate audio clarity with professionalism and reliability – if it sounds clear, they infer the message might be true or at least worth their attention (much like a printed flyer in crisp font vs. a smeared photocopy). By contrast, muffled or noisy audio triggers frustration and distrust (“Is this person hiding something? Can’t they even bother to get a clear sound?”).
Next, consider sonic consistency and cues in the platform’s overall design – this is where concepts akin to earcons and sonic branding enter. An earcon is a short, distinctive sound that signals a specific interface event or category (like the little “ding” when you get a message, or the Netflix ta-dum when starting a show). Using subtle earcons in a local audio app can greatly enhance user experience. For example, a gentle chime could play right before each new soundbite in an autoplay feed, acting as an audible “paragraph break.” Or different types of content could have slight signature sounds – say, a tiny trumpet flourish for a “good news” item or a soft alert tone for a safety warning. These sonic cues help listeners mentally categorize and remember information. Research in audio branding shows that consistent sound cues “drive recall, preference, confidence, and trust” in an audience . People begin to recognize, “Oh, that chime means a city announcement is coming up,” preparing them to pay attention in a particular way. It’s analogous to how we format text with headings and bullet points for easier reading – earcons and audio formatting do the same for listening.
Michel Chion, a French film sound theorist, introduced the idea of the “audio-visual contract” and concepts like acousmatic sound and added value. While Chion studied cinema (how sound and image together create meaning), his ideas can inspire purely audio design too. One relevant notion is acousmatic listening – hearing a sound without seeing its source . In the case of a local audio update, the listener usually does not see the speaker (unless there’s a small profile picture, but generally it’s an audio-first experience). Chion noted that acousmatic sound can create a sense of mystery or heightened focus, because we aren’t distracted by visuals – we concentrate on the voice itself . However, it can also cause some uncertainty: if you don’t see the speaker, you rely on sound alone to judge sincerity and intent.
To address this, use audio techniques to build trust and “presence.” Simple practices like the speaker stating their name and role at the start of the clip (“Hi, this is Jane Doe, principal of Hastings Middle School…”) immediately reduce the acousmatic gap – you may not see Jane, but you imagine her and place her. It’s akin to Chion’s observation in film that once a hidden sound source is revealed, it becomes “embodied” and less mysterious . Here we “embody” the voice with an identity. HastingsNow’s Soundbites explicitly label each post with who it’s from and their verified status (resident, official, etc.), which functions as an identity anchor in the acoustic space . In a way, it counters what Søren Kierkegaard (as cited in one HastingsNow piece) called the “faceless public” created by the press – instead of a disembodied anonymous voice, you have a somebody speaking. This practice taps into our primal comfort with voices we recognize. Sound studies tell us that humans can detect a lot from voice alone – emotion, honesty, even health – so giving just enough cues for the listener to visualize or trust the source can harness those pattern-recognition abilities.
Chion also talks about “added value” of sound – how sound can modify the interpretation of what we see, or in our case, what we understand. For an audio-only medium, think of background sound or music. Is there a place for background audio in micro-news? It’s tricky – too much music could turn it into an entertainment segment (Postman frowns from earlier in this article!). But a touch of audio atmosphere might enhance storytelling if used wisely. For instance, a parks & rec staffer giving a soundbite about the new dog park might record on-site so you faintly hear dogs barking and kids laughing behind her. Those natural sounds can create an immersive sense of place (an audio postcard of the moment). Chion would call that added value – the emotion or realism that sound brings beyond the literal words . However, care must be taken that it doesn’t hinder clarity. The general rule: ambient sound is great for mood, as long as it stays in the background and the main voice is clearly intelligible. If needed, a platform could even allow a second track for ambient sound that engineers can duck under the narration appropriately (this might be overkill for everyday local posts, but for special features it’s a nice touch).
Another sound design aspect is transitions – how do we move from one clip or segment to another in a feed? Abrupt cuts can be jarring. Smooth transitions (a brief fade-out of one clip and fade-in of the next, or a common “stinger” sound between them) can make the listening experience feel cohesive. It’s analogous to page layout in a magazine or scene transitions in a film. Michel Chion likened abrupt, unconnected sound-image pairings to potential confusion in perception, whereas our minds appreciate some continuity or logical break cues . In pure audio, a half-second of silence or a gentle whoosh between topics can serve as a palate cleanser for the ear.
Finally, let’s not forget mood and emotion. Sound is an incredibly powerful driver of mood. Murray Schafer would remind us that our sonic ecology affects stress and well-being. An incessant barrage of urgent tones and alarms will fatigue listeners (think of how exhausting it is to watch a TV news channel that has breaking news sounders every 5 minutes). A well-considered soundbite platform might use a calm default voice (maybe a brief intro jingle that’s friendly and not alarmist), and reserve harsh sounds for true emergencies only. Perhaps there’s even a “night mode” where evening Soundbites (after 10pm) come with a softer notification ping so as not to startle someone relaxing. These design choices show respect for the listener’s acoustic comfort, much like city planners considering noise ordinances for peace at night.
Both Schafer and Chion would encourage us to actively listen to our own medium: what is the overall soundscape we are creating for our community? Is it helping people feel more connected, informed, and calm? Or is it a new source of anxiety and noise? By tuning the audio design – clarity, cues, transitions, ambient sound, notification tones – we shape an acoustic environment that can either build trust and enjoyment or cause confusion and annoyance. Given that trust is a key goal for local media, leaning into sound design that conveys transparency and care is critical. For example, even the quality of the voice matters: research in branding suggests that choosing the right voice (in terms of accent, tone, and timbre that match your community’s character) can make a brand instantly recognizable and trusted . For local journalism, this might mean encouraging a diversity of voices so people hear themselves represented – young and old, different accents that reflect local demographics – rather than one “radio voice” narrating everything.
In summary, sound studies teach us that sound is a first-class element of design, not an afterthought. The medium of micro-audio involves engineering a holistic sonic experience. Clarity of voice, appropriate use of sound cues, and a pleasant audio environment all contribute to whether people embrace the platform. And when done right, good sound design pays dividends: listeners recall information better and feel more confident in it when it’s delivered with an effective audio identity . They are also more likely to keep listening – and sharing – if the audio is not just informative but enjoyable to the ear. As the Adobe sonic branding article noted, the best audio experiences “drive recall, preference, confidence, and trust” by aligning with how our brains respond to sound . That’s exactly what local media needs.
Why It Matters: Format Shapes Trust, Recall, and Virality (Not Just Algorithms)
By now, a common theme should be ringing in your ears: the medium you design will shape the message, the community’s response, and ultimately the success of your local media endeavor. It’s not just about having a clever app or a good recommendation algorithm to push content. The very format decisions – clip length, pacing, prosody (tone of voice), transitions, earcons, verification labels – all of these have a profound impact on trust, memory, and even virality of the content.
Consider trust. Trust in media is at a historic low in many places, and regaining it is arguably the holy grail of local journalism. We’ve seen how using authentic local voices (Ong’s insight) builds relational trust, how providing evidence and transparency (Postman’s depth, Austin’s explicit commitments) builds cognitive trust, and how clear, professional sound design (Schafer/Chion’s clarity and consistency) builds technical trust. When people find the experience of consuming news pleasant and reliable, they start to trust the source more. For example, something as simple as a consistent audio cue or intro voice can give a sense of professionalism – “this sounds legit”. Indeed, marketers have found that audio consistency can boost consumer confidence and trust in a brand . In a civic context, that could translate to trusting a local news platform.
And recall – what good is informing people if they don’t remember the information? The human memory is fickle, especially in our information-saturated age. But there are ways to make important points stick, and many of them come down to format. Audio has advantages here: studies show music and sound can trigger memory in ways visuals sometimes don’t . Think of how you remember the melody of a jingle or the tone of a voice long after the words are gone. If our micro-audio platform leverages that – through repetition, distinctive sounds, and emotional engagement – key community messages are more likely to lodge in listeners’ minds. One audio branding expert noted that hearing is a “more powerful emotional sense than sight” for memorability . A friendly voice saying “Don’t forget: Farmer’s Market this Saturday!” might actually imprint better than a banner ad on a website saying the same, because the voice carries personality and warmth. And when people recall the information, they’re more likely to act on it or share it later in conversation, which is how local knowledge circulates.
Now, virality – the big buzzword of digital media. Typically, we think of algorithmic tweaks or catchy content as what makes something go viral. But format plays a big role too. Short-form content, by its nature, is more shareable and more likely to go viral . Why? Because it respects people’s time and it’s easy to pass along without asking for a big commitment. As one digital marketing guide put it, “The briefer the content is, the more shareable it is, and the easier it is for it to go viral.” . A 30-second clip is a bite someone can easily chew and then say, “Hey friend, listen to this!” – it’s not a heavy burden to share a half-minute audio with someone. Furthermore, if that clip sparks an emotion (laughter, awe, motivation, as Berger’s research on virality suggests ), people will be instinctively driven to spread it. By formatting our content into tight, emotionally resonant soundbites, we inherently boost its social transmission potential. This isn’t cynical; it’s about packaging local stories in a way that fits how modern attention flows.
But a word of caution: virality for its own sake can conflict with trust if it devolves into clickbait or “sound candy.” That’s why all these pieces need to work together. The same features that build trust and recall – authenticity, useful context, clear source attribution – can also enhance virality in a positive way because they give people confidence to share (“I’ll forward this clip about the new library hours – it’s official and clearly explained”). Ideally, you want meaningful virality: important information spreading rapidly because it’s packaged accessibly. If a micro-audio platform optimizes for that, it can outperform any algorithm tweak. In fact, Postman might say that a medium truly attuned to human needs reduces reliance on “tricks” to get engagement. People will naturally use it and share it because it fits their lives and minds well.
We should also acknowledge algorithmic recommendation systems – yes, they matter, but they are not magic wands. You can have the smartest AI pushing content, but if the content units themselves (the soundbites) are poorly designed, people won’t bite (pun intended). On the flip side, well-crafted soundbites may spread organically through community word-of-mouth and simple sharing, even with minimal algorithmic intervention. Think of viral voice notes or WhatsApp audio forwards – they often spread because the format (short, engaging audio) is intrinsically compelling to people. A local example could be a heartfelt 30-second testimonial from a teacher that so moves listeners that they individually share it on their social networks, achieving virality because of content and format synergy.
Finally, stepping back, why does all this truly matter? It matters because local journalism and community media are not just about relaying information – they’re about strengthening the fabric of community trust and action. If format decisions can shape whether a neighbor trusts what they heard, remembers to show up at the fundraiser, or decides to forward a public safety alert to a friend, then format is a matter of community resilience. In an age of misinformation, the media that wins trust will be the one that feels native to human communication patterns (not just to Silicon Valley growth hacks). Micro-audio, guided by the insights of McLuhan, Postman, Ong, Austin, Schafer, Chion, etc., has the potential to be such a medium – intimate like a conversation, quick like our modern pace, and actionable like a town hall directive.
In concrete terms: A well-paced, well-tagged 30-second voice post with a clear message and friendly tone might lead to dozens of people taking a small civic action (signing a petition, attending an event). Multiply that by hundreds of posts and thousands of listeners, and you have a more informed, engaged, and tight-knit locality. That’s the endgame. And it won’t happen by accident – it will happen by design, by understanding the philosophy of our medium.
Connection to the Soundbites Model (HastingsNow) – Theory into Practice
All these lovely theories and principles aren’t just abstract ideas; they have been consciously woven into the Soundbites model pioneered by HastingsNow in Hastings, Minnesota. Let’s take a moment to see how this real-world platform embodies the media philosophy we’ve discussed – essentially, how it applies “first principles for trustworthy local media” in its design .
Medium is the Message (McLuhan): HastingsNow recognized from the start that the format is fundamental. By limiting community audio updates to ≤30 seconds and structuring each as a multimedia post with transcripts and source labels, they created a new media format tailored for local news . Instead of long articles or untethered social media posts, they chose a format that sends a message of speed, clarity, and credibility. The medium’s “message” here is that local news can be quick yet reliable. Every design choice – the 30-second cap, the standardized labels, the integration of voice with text – reinforces that identity. It’s a practical demonstration of McLuhan’s insight: Soundbites are not mini-articles, they are a different product altogether, optimized for the “little mic” experience.
Depth after the Bite (Postman): To guard against the trivialization of news, the Soundbites model built in layers of depth. Each Soundbite comes with “How We Know” evidence tags (e.g. source, verification status) and often a link or code for more information or to take action . This means that even though the content is bite-sized, it’s not “mind-candy” – it’s nutritious. Listeners can immediately follow up on a bite that interests them, satisfying their deeper curiosity. For example, if a local hospital gives a 30-second update about a new health program, that Soundbite might include a shortlink to a full webpage or a prompt like “text HEALTH to 12345 for details.” This fulfills Postman’s call to keep entertainment logic in check: the platform is inherently informative and actionable, not just amusing. Additionally, HastingsNow often contextualizes soundbites within larger stories. They present Soundbites as part of a “ladder” – Be Seen, Be Heard, Be Remembered – where the bite is the entry point, but there’s a path to more in-depth storytelling like long-form articles or series . In essence, they use soundbites to hook interest and then provide pathways to substance, exactly as our table’s “Soundbite vs. Sound candy” comparison recommends.
Oral Design (Ong): The Soundbites platform is explicitly voice-first and human-centric. It invites anyone in the community – from the mayor to a student volunteer – to speak in their own voice on record . This harnesses the power of orality to foster familiarity and trust. Neighbors literally hear neighbors. HastingsNow’s design emphasizes identity: Soundbites are labeled with who is speaking and in what capacity (local business owner, city council member, etc.), which provides the context an oral exchange would have in person (“who is talking and why should I listen?”). The platform also implicitly encourages a conversational tone. Many Soundbites read like someone addressing the community informally, not like a press release. For instance, a local chef might start her clip with “Hey Hastings, it’s Maria from the cafe – I’ve got a fresh batch of scones this morning!” That’s oral culture style – personable, situated, and engaging. And the results? As noted in their blog, “By listening to a person’s 30-second story in their own voice, neighbors feel a deeper personal connection.” This is pure Ong: empathetic and participatory communication rather than distant, detached writing . HastingsNow essentially re-created the vibe of a town square or a front-porch chat, but through your phone.
Speech-Acts and Outcomes (Austin): Perhaps one of the most innovative aspects of the Soundbites model is how it treats each post as a unit of accountable speech. By that we mean, every Soundbite is logged with who said it and tied to a measurable outcome . When a city leader makes a promise in a Soundbite, there’s a record of it (with a “Provenance Chip” indicating the source and verification) and potentially an outcome to track (did citizens follow up? did the thing happen?). HastingsNow describes this as converting “attention into action” and creating “accountable, local speech” . This aligns perfectly with speech-act theory: words are being used to do things in the community, and the platform is measuring those deeds. For example, if a nonprofit uses a Soundbite to ask for volunteers at an event, the system can track sign-ups via the linked outcome (say, a unique RSVP link or code word) . Thus, the illocutionary force (the request for help) is directly connected to a perlocutionary result (how many listeners helped). This feedback loop is powerful. It not only demonstrates effectiveness (to the speaker and the audience) but also builds trust: promises and invitations issued via Soundbites aren’t empty – they visibly lead to results or can be checked. In a way, it’s a remedy to the unaccountable chatter of social media. Soundbites carry weight; they’re on the public record. This implements Austin’s principle that to perform an act like a promise, one must fulfill certain conditions (like making it clear and taking on obligation) . The Soundbites platform encourages exactly that kind of responsible speech.
Sonic Clarity and Branding (Schafer/Chion): While much of the Soundbites system’s sonic details happen behind the scenes on the site/app, the philosophy is evident. The posts are audio-forward but supported by text, meaning each Soundbite has an automatic transcript (improving accessibility and SEO) . This dual modality (audio + text) reflects an understanding of “audio-vision” – the idea that combining modes can enhance clarity . If someone misses a word in the audio, they can glance at the caption. It merges the strengths of orality and literacy for comprehension. Regarding earcons and transitions, while we don’t have a view into the app’s every sound, HastingsNow likely uses gentle cues (perhaps a brief intro tone for the daily feed or a consistent voice for category announcements) to create a cohesive listening flow. The commitment to “fast, clear, verifiable” news suggests they avoid any frills that detract from clarity – an embodiment of Schafer’s hi-fi ideal in the informational sense. Each Soundbite stands out distinctly in the feed, not muddled by noise. Moreover, the platform’s focus on local voices inherently creates a kind of sonic branding: listeners begin to recognize frequent contributors by voice. “Oh, that’s our Parks Director speaking now” – this familiarity breeds trust and a sense of community, as if the soundscape of Hastings includes these regular voices. It’s analogous to how we recognize the voices on a trusted radio station. HastingsNow essentially curated a local acoustic ecology where the community’s own voices are the prominent signals, cutting through the noise of generic mass media. This is Schafer’s vision localized – citizens attuned to their own sonic environment, not overwhelmed by external media noise.
In their own words, HastingsNow wanted to “return to first principles of how humans connect” in crafting their media solution . Those first principles are exactly what McLuhan, Postman, Ong, Austin, and sound scholars have been telling us. By reimagining local news as a tapestry of verified, purposeful soundbites, HastingsNow built what you might call a “high-trust medium.” Early evidence from Hastings suggests this model can increase engagement: residents started leaving their own Soundbites (becoming part of the story), local businesses shifted from just advertising to sharing real updates (blurring the line between news makers and news subjects in a healthy way), and there’s a growing archive of these voices that people can actually search or replay, giving a memory to the spoken word that previously would have been lost to the air.
For local journalists elsewhere, the Soundbites model is a case study in applied media theory. It shows that when you deliberately design with human nature – not against it – audiences respond. It’s not about copying HastingsNow blindly, but about adapting the principles to your community. Maybe in your town, 60-second clips work better than 30, or you integrate them into daily radio. Maybe you use a similar verification system to tag audio contributions from readers in your online newspaper. The specifics can vary, but the philosophies remain solid: respect the medium, avoid the junk-food temptation, tap into the power of voice, make words into deeds, and craft a soundscape that audiences love to hear (and share).
In wrapping up, all the thinkers we’ve discussed would likely nod in approval at what HastingsNow is attempting. McLuhan might say, “You’ve truly considered the message of your medium.” Postman might be tentatively pleased that the “mind-candy” is kept at bay by those evidence labels. Ong would definitely smile hearing an entire town talking to itself constructively through oral exchange. Austin would love that speech is doing real work (promises made, invitations accepted). And Schafer and Chion would appreciate the attention to sound quality and experience.
Ultimately, the passion behind Soundbites – and similar innovations in other communities – is about rebuilding trust and participation in local media, from the ground up. It’s a movement to make media more human and more effective. By learning from media theory and philosophy, we ensure this movement builds on solid ground. We come to “understand the medium we’re shaping,” so that in shaping it, it can better shape us – into a more informed, connected, and empowered community.
Sources:
McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. 1964. Excerpt: “the ‘message’ of any medium or technology is the change of scale or pace or pattern that it introduces into human affairs.”
Postman, Neil. Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business. 1985. (Television turns news into entertainment, diluting content: “Television de-emphasizes the quality of information in favor of satisfying the far-reaching needs of entertainment” ).
Ong, Walter J. Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word. 1982. (On oral culture: “For an oral culture, learning or knowing means achieving close, empathetic, communal identification… Writing separates the knower from the known.” ; Spoken words as events with no text trace .)
Austin, J. L. How to Do Things with Words. 1962. (Introduced illocutionary acts: “locution is what was said, illocution is what was done (the act in saying something)” . E.g., a question that is effectively a request for action .)
Schafer, R. Murray. The Soundscape: Our Sonic Environment and the Tuning of the World. 1977. (Concept of acoustic ecology and hi-fi vs lo-fi soundscapes, advocating for clarity of sound in environments.)
Chion, Michel. Audio-Vision: Sound on Screen. 1994. (On acousmatic sound and audiovisual contract: sound adds value to image, and off-screen (acousmatic) sound can create tension until source is revealed .)
HastingsNow Soundbites Model: HastingsNow.com blog – “The Little Mic That Builds Local Trust” (2025) – describes the Soundbites system: “≤30-second voice updates… each turned into a post with ‘how we know’ labels, a provenance trail, and a measurable outcome. The result: local news that’s fast, clear, verifiable, and actionable.” .
HastingsNow blog – “Kierkegaard, the Press, and the ‘Little Mic’” (2025) – notes how Soundbites provide “accountable, local speech that converts attention into action—rebuilding trust where people actually live.”
HastingsNow blog – “Be Seen. Be Heard. Be Remembered: How HastingsNow Unites Our Community…” (2025) – on the power of voice: “There’s power in hearing someone’s voice… Voice carries emotion, personality, and authenticity that text alone may lack… by listening to a person’s 30-second story in their own voice, neighbors feel a deeper personal connection.”
Adobe Blog (2018), “Hear, Hear for Audio Branding” – “It (sound) drives recall, preference, confidence, and trust.” (R. van Dijk) ; on sound effects as signals: the Intel “bong” or a notification chime instantly communicates a message .
Anchor Digital (2024), “Psychology of Short-Form Content” – “The briefer the content is, the more shareable it is, and the easier it is for it to go viral.” (on why short clips go viral due to ease of consumption and sharing).
Jonah Berger (2013), “What Makes Online Content Viral?” – High-arousal emotions (awe, anger, humor) in content increase sharing (implying soundbites that evoke emotion will spread, especially if easy to share).
Various other HastingsNow blog insights on the Soundbites implementation and ethos .
By synthesizing these sources and real-life practices, we’ve painted a picture of micro-audio as both an ancient art and a modern innovation. The medium of soundbites, when understood and honed, can indeed become the message that revitalizes local media. Let’s keep listening – to theory, to our communities, and to the sound of our own little mics – as we shape the future of storytelling together.
