Finding a Future: Can the old practice of journalism adapt to new realities?

Photo by Nijwam Swargiary on Unsplash

It can be hard to understand what you are doing while you are in the middle of doing it — hard to know if you are at the end of one thing, the beginning of another, or both at the same time.

 So it is for me and journalism. I have worked as a reporter and editor for most of the past three decades, except for a seven-year stint in government. During that time, I have watched the established media struggle and shrink. I know many more former journalists than current journalists. All of the newspapers I used to work at have smaller newsrooms than they did 10 or 20 years ago. Some of them have completely vanished.

 But the interest in public events is higher than ever, as November’s huge turn-out in the presidential election demonstrated. And the same technology that has undermined traditional media has made it easier than ever for anyone to gather and distribute information.

 In 2018, my friend Scott Barker and I decided to see if we could use that technology to serve the old needs of local journalism in new ways. We are not the most likely digital pioneers. We are both in our 50s, and we came of age as reporters at a time when computers were still newsroom novelties and layout was done with photo wheels and pica sticks.

 Still, for the past two and a half years, we have been running a two-person news operation that relies entirely on 21st century tools: a WordPress website, an email newsletter, a private Facebook discussion group for subscribers.

 The most heartening thing about the experience has been the affirmation from our readers — that they want reliable, fact-based local journalism, and they are willing to pay for it. We are still very much a niche product, but we are closing in on 1,500 subscribers in and around Knoxville, and we are starting to have enough resources to hire regular freelancers to contribute. With continued growth in the coming years, we hope to be able to add other full-time writers and photographers.

 You can find small start-ups like ours — and many larger ones, too — in cities around the country, all responding to the same gaps that have opened up in local coverage as newspapers and other traditional outlets have struggled. Some are for-profit, like us. Others are nonprofit, or have partnerships with universities or foundations.

 Not all of us will be successful, of course. It’s hard to even know what “success” means under the current circumstances, beyond surviving from day to day and month to month. As the media continues to fragment, journalism seems likely to follow the à la carte delivery models springing up with streaming services for music and video content. It is hard to imagine entities arising that will command the breadth of attention and audience that daily newspapers once did when they were one of the few sources of information in a community.

 Sometimes I wonder if we are part of something new, a reinvention of journalism that will carry it onward through this century, or the last vestige of something old, adapting the methods and manner of 20th century newspapering to a contemporary platform to keep them alive as best we can. But that’s what it means to navigate a massive technological and economic transition that will extend well beyond our lifetimes. All of us are simultaneously rooted in history, buffeted by the demands of the immediate moment, and looking toward an unknowable future.

 That’s why when people ask me what I think about the future of journalism, I struggle for a response. I’m not even sure about the present of journalism. I do believe that there remains both a need and a demand for reliable news and information about our communities, our leaders, our realms of political and social negotiation. And I think that where there is a need and a demand, people will attempt to fill it.

 I do not know if what we are doing will last beyond our own efforts (we are both in our 50s, as I said, so this isn’t something we will do forever). I also don’t know if some entirely different models will arise that I can’t conceive of because my own thinking is so shaped and constrained by my own experiences.

 But I know one thing for sure. During my later years working at traditional newspapers, I felt like I was trapped in a doomed enterprise. Year after year brought wave after wave of cuts and anxiety. It was like being on a sinking ship that could only be kept afloat by constantly throwing ballast overboard — people, departments, entire publications.

 What we are doing now feels very different. We are no longer trying to survive the next lay-off or corporate merger. We are doing work we think is important, for people — our readers — who also think it’s important, and we don’t have to answer to anyone but them and ourselves.

 In our own small way, it feels like we are finding a way forward.

Jesse Fox Mayshark is co-founder of Compass, at compassknox.com.

(c) 2021 Jesse Fox Mayshark