Mass journalism, a squandered profession

By Shpëtim Luku

Once, having an article published was a great thrill, because the piece had passed through several stages of verification before it was deemed worthy. Today you can write and publish anything without any filter.

But the problem is not only that the filters have disappeared. The problem is that along with them, the boundaries seem to have disappeared too — between journalism and propaganda, between information and opinion, between the journalist and someone who simply has something to say.

I have nothing against the mass spread of information. On the contrary. It is one of the greatest achievements of our time that everyone can express their opinion, publish a video, denounce an injustice or share information with others. But having the opportunity to publish does not make you a journalist. Just as having a camera does not make you a photographer, having a keyboard and a website does not make you a journalist.

This is precisely where our greatest misunderstanding lies: we have confused the right to express an opinion with the right to be considered a journalism professional.

Journalism is not simply writing well, asking a provocative question, publishing a video or uncovering information that someone else has not published. It is, above all, a method of work. A process that begins with doubt, continues with verification, the cross-checking of sources and the separation of fact from interpretation, and ends with responsibility for what you publish.

The journalist is not the one who always has an answer. It is the one who knows how to ask the right question and has the patience, persistence and honesty to seek the true answer.

Meanwhile, in part of the Albanian media, we seem to have entered another era. In it, noise takes the place of information, personal attack takes the place of investigation, while political conviction takes the place of professional impartiality. There are people who do not report what happens, but what they are asked to make happen in the public’s mind. They do not seek to uncover the truth, but to impose a predetermined truth.

And what is more worrying is that this phenomenon is not limited only to media outlets that have an owner or an obvious political and economic interest. It has also spread into the endless space of portals, anonymous pages and profiles that have no address, no authorship and no editorial responsibility. A text with no author, no sources and no evidence can within a few minutes receive thousands of shares and be treated as news, while a journalist who has spent whole days verifying an issue has to compete with it.

In these conditions, it is no surprise that investigative journalism, which requires time, knowledge, courage and resources, is increasingly often confused with a threatening text, with a commissioned denunciation, or with a bill someone has put in front of a subject to force them to pay a price.

But this is not investigative journalism. It is the use of journalism’s name for purposes that have nothing in common with journalism.

But we are dealing with a fault that has many authors. Part of the responsibility also lies with those who have turned journalism into an activity without criteria, where all that matters is the number of clicks, the viewership, the audience or the ability to produce the next scandal. It also lies with media owners who, instead of journalists, look for people ready to do anything to keep a platform alive. It also lies with those who, for political, economic or personal reasons, find it easier to buy a media attack than to face a public debate.

And, of course, the public bears part of it too. Because by sharing without thinking, believing without verifying and rewarding with attention every piece of content that feeds our prejudices, we contribute to this degradation.

Nevertheless, I do not believe journalism has lost its value. On the contrary, at a time when information has become abundant and the truth ever harder to distinguish, good journalism is more necessary than ever. What has been lost is part of its public authority, because the name of journalist has become so easy to take that it no longer guarantees anything.

And here I am reminded of a dialogue I had many years ago with a colleague of mine. He thought that the more people entered this profession, the better it would be for us. I feared that its mass spread would turn journalism from an elite profession into an ordinary job.

Today, after all these years, I think we were both partly right. He was right about the opportunities offered by the expansion of the media. I was right about the risk carried by the loss of standards.

Journalism was not devalued because many people began to write. It was devalued because many of those who write began to pretend they were doing journalism, without accepting any of the obligations this profession carries.

Because journalism is not the privilege of those who have a microphone, a camera or a portal. It is the responsibility of those who know that the public word is not simply a right to be exercised, but also a duty to be respected.

Perhaps today, more than protecting journalism from censorship, we should worry about protecting it from those who have turned it into a name without value.