I received a fair share of criticism earlier this week and I would like to take some time to address it. This criticism was shared in a frank exchange between journalists, so it would not be fair to disclose additional details about the context. All I’ll say is that it was a conversation held in good faith and that I respect what was said to the point that I am willing to engage with it publicly. After all, others may share the same sentiment, and criticism can be a surrogate for dialogue and improvement.
The gist of the critique is that it is unwise of me to go after mainstream media outlets. Whenever media outlets use their resources to dig into another media outlet’s commercial affairs, criticise their reporting, or generally say something negative about one another’s journalistic integrity, the only winners in that equation are the crooks we should be writing about, or so the argument goes.
I was also pointedly told that, in terms of optics, a small media outlet snapping at the heels of national newspapers is just not a good look for anyone involved. The worst possible implication of that notion is that I do it for the sake of leeching clout and generating distrust in my competitors.
I’ll start by saying that whatever I do in this context genuinely feels like a lose-lose scenario. I believe the easiest way to explain where I’m coming from is to first zoom out, look at the media landscape as a whole, and then talk about why I do what I do.
The dominant philosophy at every major newsroom in the world – barring a few notable exceptions like The Guardian who tend to set the benchmark for taking principled stances – is that a newsroom has the duty to report every point of view in any given scenario. While there is no defined obligation to do so, neutrally reporting on a wide array of perspectives serves the viewer/reader by amplifying all relevant voices in the conversation. It is then left up to the reader to make up their mind.
What differs from one newsroom to another is the width of that array of perspectives. More diligent newsrooms will outright refuse to cover anything that is morally objectionable. Disinformation gets fact-checked. Hatred of others and other similarly extreme lines of argument are subject to legislation which is meant to punish incitement of any form of violence. Less diligent ones will throw those standards out of the window under the guise of ‘freedom of speech’.
When I criticise local dailies for their reporting, it is oftentimes linked to this very distinction.
Because after all, is it fair and honest to report what prime minister Robert Abela says without at least a pinch of background about his conduct, especially when considering that he has been caught lying to the press and the public? Especially when he is so prone to making complete, total U-turns, sometimes overruling his own parliamentary group entirely?
Is it fair and honest to report what disgraced former prime minister Joseph Muscat says without acknowledging the fact that his prints are all over the fraudulent concession of three hospitals, a blood-stained power station deal, and the sale of our passports to name but a few?
Is it fair and honest to report what a crook says without reminding everyone that they talk, act, and think exactly like a crook?
The point of this column isn’t to settle this debate by answering those questions. The point of this column is to discuss whether it is objectionable to raise these questions in the first place.
I can honestly say that I do not criticise national newsrooms because of some measure of personal hatred for anyone who works there. While I’ve certainly experienced mutual animosity with others in this field, I do not criticise to take anyone down because I don’t like them. I criticise because I want things to be better and wish to challenge others who have a much larger responsibility to do better.
I am already all the way out here on a limb trying to sustain a failing project that does not depend on commercial or state entities for financial support. I am not sitting in the relative comfort of a newsroom’s roundtable with hundreds of thousands of people flocking to my website every week. The whole point of everything I’ve done in the past two years has been to create a space where journalism can be free of the same pressures that have led to a decline in the overall landscape.
This is where the ‘damned if I do, damned if I don’t’ scenario plays out.
If I criticise fellow media outlets – because I have carved out the freedom to do so in this fleeting, limited space I’ve created – I am perceived as a bitter person who thinks the grapes are sour because they are out of reach. If I do not criticise and adhere to this bizarre, self-imposed code of silence that we all impose on ourselves, there will be less discussion about how things are and how they could be.
This is not just about me. Call me a loser with an axe to grind all you want; the fact is that there is something deeply wrong with this country’s news environment, and it shows because of the several generations of talent we’ve lost over the last five years. I’ve seen far more journalists leave the profession than people coming in and staying, and I’ve only been involved for half a decade.
If we don’t enable an environment in which honest, open dissent is not only tolerated but encouraged, we will just keep bleeding talent. If we don’t allow for genuine criticism, then we are no better than the same crooks we seek to expose. The idea that maintaining some misguided silence somehow helps anyone do any better does not stand up to scrutiny.
To describe such exercises in self-accountability in our sector as a waste of resources that could have been used to instead target corrupt criminals is also questionable. It is no different to an audit of one’s services. The ability to target corrupt criminals effectively depends on the methods that are used to do so. Neutral reporting only neutralises the effectiveness of such methods, and that blanket of protection should not be extended to the corrupt.
I’d be happy to hear convincing rebuttals to my criticism. The whole point of doing so is to start a conversation.