Real journalism or click bait: there is no discussion

With the advent of the internet and online publishing, journalism is now subject to forces that, at one time, it had not been exposed to, or forced to contend with. The ever-expanding range of content available to individuals is staggering. In an era where the quality of content (read: cat videos) does not necessarily indicate whether it will be well-received, or well-shared, journalists find ourselves asking a question that will determine the future of the profession: what is it that we (are meant to) do?

In a recent On the Media interview, former New York Times Public Editor Margaret Sullivan questioned whether the news organization — and the media, as a whole — is serving the purpose that it must and talked about the danger of basing editorial decisions on stories that will get the most clicks.

When questioned by On the Media’s Bob Garfield about a story with a misleading headline (spoiler: the source of pain was a tumor) that had achieved the distinction of top-trafficked story on the Washington Post website, Sullivan said that, as media columnist at the Washington Post, there may be room to write a broad piece about “many news organizations doing the kinds of stories that are intended to drive audience, and what that’s doing to the journalism.” She even pointed out that the Times has a team tasked exclusively with pursuing stories that are “in the social media conversation.” Yet there are still examples of good old journalistic storytelling out there.

Simply put, Sullivan says, “News organizations are struggling to figure out what works.”

That is a fact. From the New York Times and Washington Post, down to small, nonprofit community news organizations such as the Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service, journalists are trying to figure out how to get their work noticed in the 24-hour news and information circus that exists today.

There is an age-old argument when it comes to media and business: do you give people what they want or what they need? More specific to media is the issue of who determines the news — those writing it, or those consuming it. The answer? A little bit of both.

Journalism organizations are tasked with upholding a code of ethics, a charge to cover the news, to inform people, to let them know what is happening — what they need to know — and to foster discussion around those topics. This is why journalism is essential to a free and democratic society. Journalists not only help to keep our public and private institutions accountable, but they disseminate the news people need to stay informed about what is happening. They connect the abstract to the personal, and highlight humanity in the midst of injustice. When we lose this, we lose the very essence of what journalism is supposed to be. When it stops doing this, it has abdicated its responsibility, forgot its most basic function.

So, what, then, is the solution? The answer is easy: report and write better stories. People thirst for good journalism. A story that uncovers a previously unknown truth, gets to the heart of the issue, shows a perspective not often portrayed or tells us about something we didn’t know has the ability to capture attention far past the instant it takes to click a juicy headline. A singular story can change the way a person approaches the world. That’s worth more than a click. Much more.

But, often, those type of stories take time and care. Real reporting cannot be done in thirty minutes from behind a computer screen. There is no substitute for true shoe-leather reporting, the determination it takes to pound the pavement or knock on doors for months to find that necessary source or build the trust you need for someone to talk.

Herein lies the dilemma. We have begun to lose sight of the value of putting time, care, and resources into work, of acknowledging that only investment and time will pay the truest dividends. Much online publishing has merely become a game of maximizing “efficiency” and “return-on-investment.” Those aims, if they are a starting point, dilute the eventual product. Both originate from a desire for payout, with nothing put in up-front; they erode the value of in-depth reporting and analysis. Though this type of thinking has become more widely accepted, it’s simply not how most good work is done. In the end, it substitutes quantity for quality, speed for care and accuracy, controversy for intricacy.

In the current media climate, quick, easy stories are prioritized. It becomes a competition of who can generate the most content, and collect the most hits.

If journalists are to uphold the values of our profession, continue to be a check to the systems of power and provide a voice for the most marginalized in our society, we will need to do the best work we have ever done. We need to pursue these aims with a dogged determination and sense of purpose, to write the stories the public wants, and won’t be able to peel its eyes from. But we need people who believe in that mission to invest in the work — it is imperative. From whom that investment will come is the question, and there must be an answer.

Otherwise, the outlook is grim. In the words of Margaret Sullivan, “When there’s so much in the paper about the latest high-rise and exclusive condo, is the core mission [of journalism] still being carried out?”