Heritage Minister Sheila Copps’ announcement of cuts to the Canadian Magazine Fund (CMF) and the Publications Assistance Program (PAP) has produced a chorus of condemnation from practically all sectors of the Canadian magazine industry.

Under the new funding structure, huge Canadian titles like Maclean’s, Canadian Business and Chatelaine will lose hundreds of thousands of dollars of annual funding from the three-year-old CMF. By April 2005, the CMF will dwindle to $16 million, while the PAP will be set at $45.4 million, representing a roughly 30% decrease in funding from 1999 levels when the program was initiated.

The cuts hit the moneyed magazines the hardest, which display the logos of Rogers, Transcontinental or Quebecor on their mastheads. These three top publishers combined raked in more than $25 million from the CMF and PAP this year.

However, a reallocation of funds will open up more than $4 million ear-marked for small community newspapers, ethnic, Aboriginal and minority-language publications. Furthermore, the CMF will increase funding for arts, cultural and literary magazines which will receive access to up to $1 million in editorial and content support. This is good news for a sector of Canadian publishing that had absolutely no coverage from the press during this subsidy imbroglio, nor any respect from fat-cat publishers and mainstream marketers alike – namely, the thriving, idiosyncratic and perennially overlooked world of zines.

Yes, zines. Surely, you must all know what a zine is! (Insert a mischievous wink-wink here.) One of the most interesting cultural phenomena in the past 20 years has been the proliferation of zines, of which the most modern incarnation started with the punk rock and DIY movements in the late ’70s.

But the precedents to zines are both numerous and individually ground-breaking. From American Revolutionary broadsides (Ben Franklin self-published) to science-fiction and horror fanzines of the ’50s that launched the genres into the mainstream, to Beat poetry chapbooks that shook up the stodgy establishment, the ethos of zine publishing sustains the oft-misused term of alternative culture and cannot be underestimated in its social impact. Soviet-era Samizdat – underground distribution of self-published, handwritten or mimeographed ‘subversive literature’ – was unequivocally a prime catalyst to the demise of a ruthless totalitarian regime.

Today’s zines can be superficially described as self-published periodicals that are characteristically marked by small press runs, irreverent slants, highly specialized content angles, non-existence of any operating profits and a rabidly devoted fan base – even if that base will never exceed 100 readers. But if an individual zine may be lacking in readership, the zine universe more than makes up in volume and variety.

Since there are an estimated 10,000 zines in the North American marketplace, this form of publishing can no longer be relegated as a strictly underground product, but must be accepted and appropriated as a significant yet undervalued disseminator of content, and a bridge between marketers and trend-setting youth.

The dominant drivers for the zine revolution are the kids, plain and simple. All youth trends originate from the underground, either organically or propelled along by savvy marketers and content pushers.

The latest punk-infused wave of zine culture is tailored to the individualistic, anti-commodity and community-focused worldview of engaged and influential kids and young adults – the mavens of their generation – who spark the buzz that’s almost inevitably assimilated by the mainstream media. Where do you think Rolling Stone finds its ‘new bands to watch,’ or trend watchers get their ‘hot next year’ cues?

However, because of the antithetical nature of zines toward the commercial establishment, and the wide variety of sub-cultures and special interests that this world represents, zine publishing is still an astoundingly untapped marketing medium.

So why don’t zines get any respect from marketers? In large part, it’s because most zines are crappy and unapologetically obscure. Furthermore, a majority have circulations that are beyond laughable. Do advertisers want to hitch their wagon behind a zine that covers illicit horticulture, published and distributed in Medicine Hat, with a monthly print run of 300 copies? Probably not, but insightful and forward-thinking marketers might.

And that type of zine is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. A handful of publications are breaking out of the marginalized zine zone and establishing themselves as something more than just a zine, retaining their alternative skew but soliciting more and more mainstream advertising money. I call these publications ‘mega-zines’ – not a zine and not a mainstream magazine either.

For these ‘mega-zines,’ the not-for-profit ethos is simply dismissed as naïve and weak-willed. They place emphasis on quality content over personal musings, slick design over DIY avant-gardism, circulation growth over prideful obscurity, ad revenue over ‘keeping it real.’

Mega-zines like Vancouver’s Concrete Powder (board culture), Toronto’s Butter (urban fashion) or Pound (hip hop) and Montreal’s Motel (alternative rock and culture) are breaking out of the pack, chasing the success of now NYC-based Vice, which grew from a Montreal zine into a mainstream magazine, a clothing line, a record label and a film production company. Because of their enviable combination of specialization and street-level credibility, these pubs are ideal communicators for niche marketing and a source of invaluable youth market insight.

These mega-zines are easing the often confrontational relationship between zine culture and mainstream communication media, and should be nurtured by marketers and advertisers to continue to do so. It’s not solely up to the government to help the small publishers, although its quiet nod to mega-zines will certainly contribute to their growth.

The large publishers will do just fine, probably countering their lack of federal funding with increased ad rates, making alternative publishing channels that much more palatable to the mainstream.

Max Lenderman is partner and CD at Gearwerx, a youth marketing company based in Montreal. He can be reached at mlenderman@gearwerx.com.