Watchdogs or Watchpuppies?

Our year at the RRJ

Justin Dallaire
Ryerson Review of Journalism
3 min readApr 7, 2017

--

By Justin Dallaire

AS I SCANNED a Chapters magazine stand in Ottawa a few years ago, my eyes landed on the winter 2013 issue of the Ryerson Review of Journalism (RRJ). On the cover, a small, pale-blue circle announced a milestone: “30 years of watching the watchdogs.” I was intrigued to find a student magazine showcased alongside Maclean’s, The Atlantic, and The Economist.

I read the issue from cover to cover and, after that, searched for the magazine every spring. I often pictured the authors as confident, experienced journalists, the kind to whom writing came easily. I thought, “Should I ever do the RRJ, I could be as good.” The idea excited me, eventually prompting me to apply to Ryerson’s journalism program and, subsequently, to sign up for a spot on the masthead. I was ready to play a central role. Just like every masthead member before me, I had paid my dues in class, agonizing over ledes and nutgrafs.

Winter 2013 issue.

At our first meeting in September, students huddled in a boardroom intended for a group half our size — at 25, we were the largest RRJ masthead ever — and teased apart what we liked and didn’t like about the work of our predecessors. At that moment, it was easy to overlook their successes. Last year, RRJ editors led a campaign to prevent the magazine from going online-only, launched a podcast and a newsletter, and made headlines for their coverage of the lack of diversity in newsrooms. Still, there was a lot we felt could be improved on, and we loudly made our opinions known. That’s when instructor Stephen Trumper chimed in: “Just remember, you may want to piss all over what they did last year. But next year, the new group of editors will be pissing all over what you did.” One of the boldest ideas we had that day involved dropping the “watchdogs” label altogether. Who cared that it had been around since the founding of the magazine?

Our early talks revealed the arrogance of students entering their final year of j-school. Many of us had never worked for a professional magazine, yet our conversations suggested we could do better than those who had. Over the course of the year, we discovered that magazine editing is much harder than many of us had anticipated. The challenge came from a thousand necessary mini-decisions: should we brand ourselves as the RRJ or the Review? Should we use 60 lb. or 70 lb. paper stock? Should we chase after corporate sponsors? Use serif or sans-serif fonts? These things may seem trivial, but as every magazine editor knows, they matter.

The challenges extended beyond our individual responsibilities as editors. This year, we were also business managers, advertising sales agents, podcast producers, website designers, and conference planners. Of course, we were also reporters, tasked with covering both an industry we hope to work in and professionals we hope to work for. I was reminded of the tensions inherent to our work every time a friend or colleague asked me if, at the end of the year, I planned to apply for a Walrus fellowship. Could writing a profile of its editor, Jonathan Kay, somehow kneecap my chances of writing for The Walrus? As students, we hope that the quality of our work — no matter how critical the story — will impress those who matter.

Industry veterans are sometimes quick to point out that we are only students. A hammer dropped early in September, as we discussed the results of our audience research survey. “I don’t think that the Ryerson Review of Journalism can be the citadel, the guardian of Canadian journalism, because the people who write for it are children,” responded a prominent figure in the industry. When a senior editor reminded him of our founding mandate — to be the watchdogs on the watchdogs — he replied: “You don’t have any fucking watchdogs. You have puppies! You have watchpuppies.” For the rest of the year, these words served as a much-needed reminder that our duty is, above all, to understand and serve our readers.

It is you who decides if we have failed or succeeded.

Justin Dallaire is the editor-in-chief of the RRJ. Follow him on Twitter @JusDallaire.

--

--