By Rachael Warecki ’08
Earlier this year, the New Yorker published an article titled 鈥淒oes Journalism Have a Future?鈥� It鈥檚 an important question but an old one鈥攖he same thing I was asking myself in August 2007, at the end of my stint with the San Mateo Daily Journal. A month earlier, I鈥檇 covered the festivities surrounding the Major League Baseball All-Star Game in San Francisco; a month later, I would return to Scripps and take over as the Voice鈥檚 editor-in-chief. If I wanted to continue in the field after graduation, I was well positioned to do so.
Instead, I became a teacher. I鈥檇 dreamed of being a sportswriter ever since I鈥檇 realized that newspapers would pay me to write about something I loved, but in 2007, the idea that I鈥檇 be able to live on that pay for the length of a career was laughable. Although few people had smartphones in their pockets, readers were buying fewer print papers. It would be another decade before the president of the United States used Twitter to call the press the 鈥渆nemy of the American people,鈥� but blogs and social media platforms were already taking off as alternative sources for news. I recognized that the internet was starting to disrupt鈥攖o use a favorite Silicon Valley buzzword鈥攖he journalism field. But I didn鈥檛 anticipate how much disruption it would create.
In 2008, when I left the newsroom for the classroom, concerns about journalism were mostly economic: conglomeration, the expectation of free online content, and the recession鈥檚 decimation of publishers鈥� budgets. When I made the jump to public relations in 2012, the focus was on online news aggregators, Twitter mobs, and new, digital-driven forms of citizen journalism. Now we鈥檙e having a national conversation about deliberate disinformation campaigns, massive media layoffs, and the question of whether the press can be trusted to report objectively鈥攁nd whether the public can be trusted to believe those reports. These are also questions that Scripps students and alumnae are working to answer as they navigate these shifts in journalism and other information fields.
Poppy MacDonald 鈥�97 is the publisher of USAFacts, a nonpartisan website that provides data on government revenues, spending, and outcomes without using projections. She hopes that publishing the facts鈥攁nd only the facts, sourced from government agencies鈥攚ill establish a common ground for objective public policy discussions.
鈥淲e鈥檙e showing you that this is the data, this is the historical context of how it鈥檚 changed over time in the U.S., this is how it鈥檚 affecting different demographics, and this is how the lives of Americans are changing,鈥� she says. 鈥淎ll we鈥檙e asking is that people on both sides of the aisle start with agreement on the facts.鈥�
However, Michelle No 鈥�12, who writes articles on food, travel, and identity for BuzzFeed, says that facts and objective reporting aren鈥檛 always enough for the newest generation of readers, who鈥檝e grown up navigating influencer culture. 鈥淎nyone younger than 25 is so used to having so much information available that they want to go one step further,鈥� she says. 鈥淭hey know what鈥檚 fake. They want details and authenticity.鈥� When No seeks to prove or debunk cooking hacks, for example, she includes photos and videos taken at home, avoiding footage that appears too glossy or practiced.
What authenticity means, though, is what is up for debate. And in an era of 鈥渄eepfake鈥� videos, virtual-reality digital influencers, sponsored content, and biased and noncredible news outlets, is it even attainable? The situation is dire enough, according to former Guardian editor-in-chief Alan Rusbridger, that 鈥渨e are, for the first time in modern history, facing the prospect of how societies would exist without reliable news.鈥� The fact is, the digital media landscape continues to change journalism more than a decade after I first wondered whether the internet would dismantle it. And along the way, it鈥檚 changing the way we view the truth.
Since my days in the newsroom, the definition of truth has become more expansive鈥攊n some ways for the better. Social media has created spaces for members of underrepresented communities to find each other, tell untold stories, and correct a historical record that has frequently disregarded people from marginalized backgrounds. To a certain extent, it has also democratized access to media careers. For example, No doesn鈥檛 have formal training in journalism or the culinary arts; instead, she parlayed freelance work and a passion for writing into a series of jobs at high-profile media companies. Since then, she鈥檚 seen Twitter users employ their platforms to start important conversations with traditional media outlets. 鈥淲hen something goes viral, any mainstream media publication is forced to talk about it,鈥� she says.
For Meghan Bobrowsky 鈥�21 and Jaimie Ding 鈥�21, who both write for the 5C newspaper The Student Life and interned at The Sacramento Bee this summer, truth telling in today鈥檚 media landscape is about holding people in power accountable. Bobrowsky, like MacDonald, believes that providing access to data鈥攅specially financial data鈥攊s key to bringing truth to the public. It鈥檚 a lesson she brought to The Bee from her politics classes at Scripps and from her journalism experience in high school, where her investigative series on her school district鈥檚 budget earned her National High School Journalist of the Year honors from the Journalism Education Association.
Ding, who鈥檚 also studying politics, believes in focusing on individual experiences. 鈥淲hen we talk about truth, I think it all comes down to how things impact people at the individual level,鈥� she says. 鈥淲hen you鈥檙e telling that person鈥檚 story, you鈥檙e telling that truth.鈥�
The flip side of this inclusivity is the false notion that if everyone is telling 鈥渢heir truth,鈥� then no one is ever lying鈥攖hat internet charlatans are as reputable as fact-checked journalists, as long as the charlatans hold their opinions strongly and express them loudly enough. Over the past five years, this idea has allowed internet forums like Reddit, alt-right outlets, and, most notably, members of the executive branch to promote widespread but disproven stories under the guise of 鈥渁lternative facts.鈥� However, mainstream news organizations have been reluctant to label these stories as outright lies, due to the question
of intent. They question: Does the president know he鈥檚 spreading false information, or is he merely stating his personal truth?
To a public frustrated with perceived political pussyfooting, this semantic reluctance has eroded trust in the media. It鈥檚 an erosion that鈥檚 stretched beyond journalism to encompass public relations and customer service, as well. In another previous role as a social media professional, I fielded aggressive Twitter interactions, personal threats through direct messages, and profanity-laced phone calls鈥攁ll because my company鈥檚 name change had become a top Facebook news story, thanks to an outraged, inaccurate far-right news article and some social media algorithms. (The prevailing, very incorrect theory among furious commenters: we鈥檇 changed our name from that of a departed movie star and USO performer because we, as Californians, hated patriotic 鈥渞eal Americans.鈥� Repeatedly explaining that we鈥檇 changed it to improve our geographic identity did not minimize these commenters鈥� convictions.)
When the term 鈥渇ake news鈥� first entered our lexicon, many journalists thought the label best applied to these types of online conspiracy theories, invented from whole cloth and spread to credulous audiences via the internet. MacDonald even anticipated that fake news allegations would be a boon for trusted media brands; she expected that people who usually got their news from users on social platforms like Twitter would turn instead to mainstream publications.
But then President Trump leveled his fake news charge at the mainstream media. MacDonald, who was working for POLITICO at the time, said the accusations added new challenges not just for reporters but for the business side of publications as well. The newsroom鈥檚 editorial ambitions and increased attention to detail came with increased costs. 鈥淲e double- and triple-checked everything,鈥� MacDonald says.
Although the administration continues to lob accusations of fake news at the mainstream press, MacDonald believes there鈥檚 still hope for public trust in journalism. A 2018 USAFacts poll showed that over the course of a year, Americans became 14 percent more likely to believe that using a different set of facts causes more problems in the U.S. than holding different political beliefs. In 2017, there was an eight percent gap between the two beliefs; in 2018, that gap widened to 22 percentage points.
All four of the journalists and publishers I interviewed agree that media transparency is key to regaining public trust. It鈥檚 a goal toward which many outlets are already working. Many newspapers have started to explain how their stories are reported. Longform investigative articles now include sidebar summaries of the methods used, the people contacted, and the documents reviewed while building the story.
MacDonald emphasizes USAFacts鈥� charts, graphs, and simple data presentation. 鈥淚 think the investment we鈥檙e making in bringing the facts to the people, making them easy to understand, easy to search鈥攚e鈥檙e headed in the right direction.鈥�
Bobrowsky, Ding, and No also agree that social media, for better or worse, will continue to shape the field. Publications will have to adapt their strategies for an increasingly digital world. BuzzFeed introduces itself to new hires as a tech company, and it prioritizes a website content management system that allows its writers to publish posts quickly. To attract readers from Generation Z鈥攁 demographic more likely to watch a clip than read an article鈥攐ther outlets are pivoting to video to tell their stories.
And yet, with as much disruption as social media has wreaked on journalism, Bobrowsky believes that it will play an important part in countering the narrative of the media as public enemy number one. At The Bee, she鈥檚 reported breaking news through the paper鈥檚 Facebook Live stream, responding to viewers鈥� questions in real time and putting a face to the byline. She also created an account on TikTok, a short-form video platform popular with younger audiences. The paper鈥檚 first TikTok featured its stuffed mascot (a bee, natch) in various newsroom poses, set to the Black Eyed Peas鈥� 鈥淚mma Be.鈥� Bobrowsky says it showed viewers that the paper has a playful side.
鈥淚 think it鈥檚 about cultivating an online presence to show the community that we鈥檙e people,鈥� she says. 鈥淲e鈥檙e human, we鈥檙e you. We鈥檙e not really the enemy.鈥�
So does journalism have a future? I believe it does. At Scripps, where I currently serve as a staff advisor for the Voice and liaise with reporters from The Student Life, students鈥� desire to provide readers with information and diverse perspectives is as strong as ever. The medium of reporting has become drastically different since my days in the newsroom鈥攊n some cases, more like the content I produced as a social media manager than as a journalist. But the students I鈥檝e talked to are embracing these changes. Both Bobrowsky and Ding have spent the summer learning the basics of graphic design and data analysis to improve their marketability.
That capacity to adapt is a vital one in a field that鈥檚 continually evolving鈥攁nd it鈥檚 one of the reasons I鈥檓 excited, rather than skeptical, about the future of journalism. Like generations of reporters before them, today鈥檚 young journalists recognize the importance of thorough research, the ability to listen as well as to ask good questions, the value of examining their own assumptions, and the need for transparency in reporting. But they鈥檙e also digitally savvy, wary of online manipulation tactics, and eager to tackle the media landscape鈥檚 new challenges. They see our current era not as the end of journalism but as a reinvention.
Their optimism is why I believe that, as long as we maintain freedom of the press, journalism will have a future. And that鈥檚 one thing鈥攁mid all the field鈥檚 changes鈥攖hat I hope will stay the same.
