Confronting the elephant in the room: how I knew journalism was no longer a thing.










The answer is yes.

Journalism is dead.

I have been writing about it for a long time.

Back in 2005, I wrote a book about journalism being sick.


This summer, my new book is about how journalism died.



I have been chronicling its death on this site for a while now, but there comes a time when we have to confront an elephant in the room.

That we have people in a dead profession who have no idea their industry is a corpse, spreading disease.

The Internet is help spreading this disease as well.

It is so bad, that journalists, who have become spreaders who hatred and ignorance, are going around saying their disease is proof that this is a "golden age" of journalism.

Where is your gold?

Where is all the gold that you are hiding?

Show us all the journalistic innovations, inventions, and progress you have created?

Show us your journalistic research in how to ask better questions or improve the product.

You can't?

You have nothing.

You had nothing for far too long.

I knew when it was coming.

I was still a teenager, but I saw the sickness; however, I also saw there were ways to alter things to improve the product.

I did not outline these problems because I hated journalism.

Despite it all, I wanted it to improve, but the hubris of profession prevented any admission of weaknesses.

But there came a point of no return.


That was the year that US journalists decided to brazenly tell their citizens what to think and how to vote.

Bad move.

Because it all hinged on underestimating a public liberated by social media, as it also assumed its position was strong.

And it wasn't.

And so, it waged war on the public with an aggressive campaign that taxed its system to the maximum.

Another bad move.

Now, had it seen the cunning of the presidential candidate they decreed wouldn't win, they would have stepped back, merely reported the facts, and not meddled, it could have seen how sickly it had become, and that the best course of action was to see its weaknesses and heal itself.

But it didn't.

It strutted and swaggered as it wheezed.

And died right on the battlefield as millions of people stomped over it and went to ballots to do the very opposite journalists told them to do.

And then, it was truly over.

It's fortunes haven't improved. You have a labour-intensive industry that has less resources to do things.

You have no empirical research to guide you.

You have lost credibility.

While the rest of the US is seeing a boom, journalism's fortunes continue to deteriorate.

When asked how you failed, you maintain you are wildly succeeding.

You are obsessed with personalities, not facts, evidence, logic, or empirical research.

You have no seeds to plant.

Because your industry is barren, and devoid of life.

And that hope thing you always cling to as if it were a thing.

Hope isn't a thing.

And neither is journalism.

Because you can have expectations, but only if you put in the effort, study feedback, and then modify things until you improve.

Hope is a passive person's wishful thinking.

Expectations are driven by actively having a goal and having the honour and stamina to work at it until you see the job through.

Journalism has become a passive person's delusion of being informed.

And now it is time to create an industry that takes its place without falling into the traps the killed its predecessor.