Journalism was never a profession with actual discipline. Not in their academic halls nor in their professional affairs. They were never up to code, which had benefits, and they got away with it for decades because they were the only game in town.
And even now, when they try to think up reasons why people believe false information, their lack of discipline shows. It is a nebulous profession that does all sorts of behind-the-scenes skulduggery to financially benefit themselves.
Because they are hidden and elusive, despite their half-assed stunts to prove transparency, it becomes to be an accurate critic. People take guesses, but it is easy for them to dismiss.
I realized that very early on as a teenager when I wrote letters of complaint. The haughty and arrogant replies told me that the cloak was a ruse in itself. You can swat away criticism because the critics don’t know what is going on, let alone what to look for.
Eventually, I figured out the solution: you want to be a media critic, you had better become one of their number.
And so, I did.
I went in with a plan and a series of experiments. I was a journalist whose beat was writing about the various aspects of journalism.
I took years to do it. I wasn’t in any hurry. How long it took, I would do it properly and thoroughly.
And break the code.
The lack of precision was part of the act. So was the feigned martyrdom. They drag their feet, attack someone as a villain as a misdirection, and then hope things turn around and they find a saviour.
It’s not working anymore.
It is the reason why their feints and ruses have become transparent: using an old script that no longer aligns with reality.
But it is an instructive time to see how forced narratives work — and how they backfire…