Reversing journalism’s lost generation
In journalism, there are six words that guide each story — who, what, when, where, why and how. They are ingrained into every journalist’s psyche, and every journalist knows a story can’t exist without those six words at the forefront of a piece. Yet, there are six more words that have been fully ingrained into journalists’ psyches since the coronavirus public health outbreak began — layoff, furlough, enemy, fake and pay cut.
Those words have become not just part of prominent headlines surrounding American journalism, but also words that make up the circumstances that have impacted journalists, especially in the last few months. Those words are ingrained as journalists, like the people of this nation, try to navigate the challenges of this new environment — working from home, balancing childcare, and ensuring every deadline — personal and professional — is met.
They, like doctors, nurses, educators and other front line workers, are working tirelessly to keep their neighbors safe and informed so they can make the best decision possible for themselves and their families.
However, the financial situation in journalism is darker compared to that of healthcare. Indeed, current circumstances have been merely exacerbated by the COVID-19 outbreak. Actions from hedge funds like Alden Global Capital have decimated newsrooms in places like Denver and Chicago, while the Gannett-Gatehouse merger continues to offer vast uncertainty to journalists in their combined newsrooms who wonder if they’ll have a job next week — and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Meanwhile, amid the uncertainty in the media industry resulting from the public health situation, nonprofit media outlets like NPR and its member stations are wondering where their revenue will come from, as the rate of foundation grants, contributions from individual listeners and other revenue sources are impacted, as everyone tries to stay afloat. It has led to some stations furloughing employees and some leaving voluntarily, including at Minnesota Public Radio.
An estimate cited by the PBS NewsHour suggests that more than 35,000 news media professionals have either been furloughed, laid off or had to take a pay cut since this public health crisis began. That number will likely rise in the coming weeks, and along with that come the prospects of more areas in the United States becoming news deserts, bereft of access to quality information as more outlets face a lack of financial viability and close down — which would be a loss to not just journalism itself, but the public’s right to know.
Watching this all unfold are a group of early-career journalists — either fresh-faced university graduates across the country whose internships and fellowships have been cancelled, or journalists like myself with clips in hand, yet who have struggled to get a foot in the door.
Journalists like me have become something that we aren’t usually supposed to be a part of in journalism — the story. We are a generation of journalists in limbo — soon to become a lost generation for journalism. The industry knows we exist, in fact the industry had been warned about us and the dangers of what our loss would mean.
In an essay for the Nieman Lab web site in 2018 predicting journalism’s future for 2019, Elite Truong, Deputy Editor of Strategic Initiatives at The Washington Post, was blunt.
“We’re at risk of permanently losing a generation of journalists to other fields due to instability — but also because of poor management, lack of support, and opportunities for growth. We’re seeing a rise in passionate new journalists who want to do good work, but we have too few good starting opportunities to give them.” — Elite Truong, The Washington Post, writing in Nieman Lab in 2018
I don’t have the magical crystal ball that can cure all that ails this industry, and while my fear and anxiety about the future is prevalent, I made an observation. To reverse the trend and ensure a generation lost is a generation gained for journalism, there are roles for both journalists and the public to play — roles that can both have an impact.
To the people working in journalism — don’t overlook this generation. No journalist is alike, and any difference in their background, be it race, gender, sexual orientation, or economic circumstance, does not impact their ability to do meaningful work on a national or local scale.
I’m not your competitor, I’m your peer. I’m not interested in stealing your scoop — instead, I’m a fellow human being who, like you, wants to do the most good possible, even if my circumstances in achieving this goal are unconventional compared to others. I’m just as curious about things as you are.
Remember how other journalists before you helped you in uncertainty as you found solid ground underneath your feet and your want to learn. Their work in helping you helped kept journalism going, and now it’s your turn. The future of this industry is in your hands.
To you, the reader of this piece — what guides my intentions are not ego boosted pursuits of a coveted pundit slot on cable news or a deal on a book that would end up on The New York Times bestseller list. What guides my intentions is information — information that will ultimately have an impact on the decisions you make in your daily life, and your access to it.
I am not a purveyor of fake news, nor am I an enemy of the people. I am your voice — the voice who represents you when you want answers from your elected officials, as are my peers in the White House press corps or my peers who cover your governors or state legislators. I am the one trying to figure out answers on why Boeing’s 737 jets were crashing. I am the one on the telephone to experts to make sense of the pursuit of a new vaccine for the coronavirus. I am the one who can cheerfully tell you that you can enjoy Major League Baseball again, even if you can’t go to the ballpark.
I, like you, go to work every day and do my job — to help you and yours be at their best. So take a moment to invest in yourself. Subscribe and support the work my peers and I do. Give to your public radio or television station, subscribe to your local newspaper, or buy a digital subscription to a national outlet like The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal or The Washington Post, and tell your neighbors to do the same.
Whether you’re in a large metropolitan area like Seattle or in a mid-size town like Kokomo, Indiana, your right to know is a cornerstone of the foundation of American democracy, and it is the work of journalists that ensures it remains a constant — and that darkness in the corridors of power becomes sunshine glowing through the hallways. The future of this industry also is in your hands.
Now is not the time to be complacent about journalism and just hope that the problems just magically go away. A new round of Pulitzer Prize winner announcements won’t change the magnitude of the problems that journalism faces, and the risks beyond the industry itself if nothing is done about it.
If nothing is done, it’s more than just people facing unemployment who will lose — it’s the American people who are left to risk their lives because of a lack of accurate information to help them be prepared for the challenges ahead that will lose.
Without journalists like me, my neighbors down the street won’t know if they can get a coronavirus test — let alone the vaccine for it. Without journalists like me, my friend in another part of the country who wonders where economic assistance to help pay her bills is won’t know why it’s being held up. Without journalists like me, it sends a message that the truth has no value.
It doesn’t have to be like that, and it shouldn’t be. The nearly lost generation of journalists like me can prevent that from happening. This generation knows that they’ll benefit both the journalism industry and the public’s right to know, and both journalism and the public will want to do all that they can to keep this generation of reporters from putting down their notepads and laptops.
But, in order to make that happen, they’ll have to remember the six words that every journalist remembers most — who, what, when, where, why and how.
