Trust has to be earned
Distrust towards media leads to some citizens turning away from news altogether. Journalists mustn’t let that happen.
Roland Arens
Editor-in-chief Luxemburger Wort
The causes of the oft-lamented loss of trust in the media seem to be largely known. When information and news are lumped together with untruths and lies, the credibility of journalism is eroded. As a result, readers are becoming increasingly suspicious of the media as a whole and some are turning away from the information with which they’re bombarded, day in and day out.
The pandemic years, and certainly the global rise of political populism, have, if anything, accelerated this trend. Conspiracy theories and disinformation about Covid-19 spread faster than journalists could gather science-based facts. “You only write what the government tells you to write,” is an accusation our journalists have often faced in one form or another, in letters to the editor, focus groups or online comments. During Covid-related demonstrations, the loaded term Lügenpresse or “lying press” was thrown at the media.
Fortunately, most of our readers react much more calmly than this. They’ve known their newspapers for a long time and so are still willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. But traditional news outlets can no longer rely on being seen as reliable, credible or even objective.
A virus of lies is spreading through the media ecosystem, warned Filipino journalist and Nobel laureate Maria Ressa in an interview with Deutschlandfunk in the summer of 2022. “We are losing the battle against disinformation globally. That doesn’t mean we give up. It just means we need to tell everyone: the battle is now.”
Media will always have to work hard to earn readers’ trust, especially, of course, among generations of digital natives. That means reporting from the reader’s perspective and bringing transparency to newsrooms. We need to show readers how journalists work and how the result of this collective activity differs from random information scattered across social networks. We need to make it clear how journalists add value and why journalistic deontology is the best guarantee of reliability, credibility and impartiality.
Better expectation than conviction
Distrust of media is growing, including among politicians. But we have to take even radical criticism seriously.
Karel Verhoeven
Editor-in-chief De Standaard
Trust in a newspaper is personal, but it’s also political. As editors, we can best work on the personal, intimate side. The political side of trust is trickier. Intimate trust stems from an expectation. You can shape and adjust that. Political trust comes more from a conviction. And beliefs are rigid.
First, intimacy. Rarely have we had so great a chance to change. Thanks to the digital shift, we are reinventing our platforms, formats and even journalistic genres. What we publish, when and for whom. One question should always guide us in this regard: what has value? I like to rephrase “trust” as “reliability”. Always passing the reader’s test, the ideal reader, the reader you hope to nurture. Delivering sufficient value. Passing the falsification test. Truth may be relative; falsehood is not. Building trust is then about creating an interesting expectation and unexpectedly fulfilling it.
The reader’s response is intuitive. Ideally, they read you based on instinct. Every article, every alert, every newsletter, every fresh copy of the paper feeds that intimate relationship. It’s about genuine trust, and it’s mutual. Do editors dare to trust their readers? In what they click on and how long they read? If you trust the reader, the right data will tell you how well you’re doing.
The political side of trust is less manageable. The most perfidious attacks on the media that we experience in a solidly liberal democracy like Belgium undermine the belief that the media pursue the truth. The radical right is making this breach of trust its political project. The press are painted as servants of the regime of truth. They stand in the way of the will of the people. The protests against Covid regulations showed that a not inconsiderable section of the population holds that belief.
Like any radical criticism, this outburst deserves to be considered and responded to thoughtfully. It may not lead to a real conversation, much less convince the non-believers. But that doesn’t matter. It makes us editors more aware of what expectations we can realistically create. It sharpens the demand for truth. Do we really serve the quest for truth? Do we show enough imagination to do it? After a year in which everything the establishment thought possible has been turned upside down, with war, inflation, energy shortages and protectionism, humility is a crucial quality for journalists.
Who knows what is still true in this world?
How nice it would be if trust was the same as being nice. But trust sometimes means telling a difficult truth.
Cormac Bourke
Editor-in-chief Irish Independent and Independent.ie
Does our audience really think it is important where their information comes from?
There are so many choices for them about what they can watch, what they can listen to or what they can read. Surely they must wonder if it would be so bad if some of what they’re being told isn’t true.
Does it really matter? Won’t they find out the truth in the end?
After all, for as long as humans have had language, untruths and half-truths have always circulated among us socially: an item of idle gossip between neighbours, a few words at the school gate, an aside in a shop or in a bar.
But in the past, this type of information was typically passed on by someone you knew in some way, usually by someone you had met.
You had some sense of the source and some sense of how reliable they were. Metaphorically, the world was a much smaller place. It was certainly easier to make a judgment. Now, that world is nearly beyond measure thanks to ubiquitous social media.
Half-truths and lies can circulate freely and anonymously, often pretending to be from sources from which they do not originate, often fuelled by algorithms, which try to tell you what they think you want to hear.
In this world, it’s not certain that anyone will simply find out the truth in the end.
Trust means you know where your information is coming from and you know the motivation of those providing it.
It would be simple if trusting someone was the same as liking them. But that’s not what trust means. If you're worthy of someone’s trust, sometimes you have to tell them things they might not like.
Neither does trust mean that you’re always right. Trust means we admit we can get things wrong and are honest with our audience when we do.
Does our audience really think it is important where their information comes from?
It’s up to us to convince them that it is, in fact, vital.
Trust is therefore an opportunity for journalism – and it's one we must grasp.
Happy to talk to a journalist. But don’t use my name
Good journalism requires recognisable sources and interviewees. What if people will only speak anonymously?
Ria Kraa
Editor-in-chief Friesch Dagblad
The score for 2022: the word “trust” appeared 879 times in the Friesch Dagblad. Most of these mentions were in the family notice section, and were in fact about trust in the Lord and Saviour. In the news pages, it’s more about lack of trust. In just about anything: the incorruptibility of the European Parliament, the vision of Mark Rutte, the ethics of Fifa, the point of holding another climate summit, the likelihood of an Elfstedentocht, the best recipe for gnocchi.
And of course, lack of trust in the press. Again this year there’s been a host of reports of harassment, aggression and violence towards journalists. That’s the visible side of failing trust. There is also an invisible side. Increasingly, reporters are speaking to people who “don’t want my name in the paper”. Ordinary, decent, nice people who are quite willing to talk, but who back off as soon as they’re asked for their personal details. Not because they feel their safety is in question or their job at stake, but from a general trepidation: oof, the media, better be careful.
They sneak into the newspaper largely unnoticed, those unnamed interviewees, so a refresher was needed: guys, anonymity should really be an exception and if we allow it, we need to be explicit about why.
It’s a clear rule, but it doesn’t solve the problem. It’s understandable: people distrust not necessarily the press but perhaps their own thoughtlessness. An awkward quote doesn’t disappear after a day into the bin and thus oblivion, as it used to; now it’s online forever. So how do you entice people to speak to a reporter and give their name? How do you turn your own discomfort into persuasion? How do you succinctly explain why it’s meaningful and important to speak your mind as well as your name, on a journalistic platform where your words won’t be twisted or taken out of context? How do you carry that message confidently, without coming across as a rabid evangelist?
Gaining the trust of the people you want to write about, having to explain the importance and reliability of your work: it’s tricky. And it’s uncomfortable that we have to do it.
Show as much as possible – and be honest about what remains hidden
Journalistic transparency is an important building block for trust. Tell the reader what the journalist can and can’t write, and what the editors are unsure of.
René Moerland
Editor-in-chief NRC
Two years ago, Mediahuis’ annual report was devoted to trust in journalism. This year it’s just a sub-section. It now comes under the umbrella of “press freedom and press safety”. What does that tell us about the state of trust in journalism?
Our starting point is largely the same. You can’t impose trust, you have to earn it. That calls for an exacting, self-reflective approach from the newsroom. We know that trust and relevance for NRC’s readers and listeners are the foundation stone of trust. And we can impose those: on ourselves. That is our promise, our pact.
What are the other building blocks? From experience, we know that transparency has become more important. So when our economics editor spends a day at Amazon’s largest sorting centre in the Netherlands, we explain the conditions under which he worked. When Kim Bos and Lineke Nieber spent a week working at two abortion clinics, we had to explain not only the restrictions they were working with, but also why we considered them acceptable and what our reporters had set out to achieve.
We have learned a lot about transparency from podcasts, where the personal involvement of the creators is increasingly a part of the story. You heard that, for example, in our podcast series on the Qatar World Cup. Gabriella Adèr and Joris Kooiman investigated why the state of Qatar is so interested in football and what that means for fans.
Transparency is also about mistakes. The details that make it to our corrections section show how high the bar is set. From our ombudsman – since September Arjen Fortuin – we expect him to not only look at facts but also to critically weigh how we address subjects. Is our reporting on climate change too “alarmist”, or not enough? The war in Ukraine: are we underestimating the Russian perspective? We think not – and we are proud of our reporter who has been able to work from Moscow in difficult circumstances this year.
Never forget what good journalism is about
In the online world, a 186-year-old regional newspaper is finding a new audience. Trust remains vital for that connection.
Jim Hayes
Editor-in-chief Mediahuis Ireland Regionals
When our oldest newspaper, The Sligo Champion, was first printed in June of 1836 nobody could have imagined that 186 years later it would be publishing local news with a global reach. It’s the same story for each of the Champion’s ten local paper stablemates.
The past year has seen impressive online growth at Mediahuis Ireland regionals and there is now a bigger audience for our local news output than at any time in history. That’s the direct result of a local news project through Independent.ie, recognised in 2022 for innovation with wins at both the NewsBrands Ireland Journalism Awards and the Local Ireland Awards.
While this is hugely positive at a time of declining print sales, it is also an ever-present reminder of our increased responsibility in a world of false information and social media noise. As now former Taoiseach Micheál Martin said at the launch of the Future of Media Commission, set up to examine how Ireland's media can deliver public service aims over the next decade and beyond: "At a time when disinformation is on the rise, sustainable and impartial journalism has never been more important".
For over a hundred years and sometimes much more, all our regional print titles have fostered a relationship with local communities, built on trust and integrity. We are now cementing new relationships within a wider online community and, while the millions of page views and millions of minutes of attention time don’t tell the whole story, they do show we are making a connection and continuing to make a difference with the same professionalism that sustained our newspapers through famine, world wars, rebellion and civil upheaval.
According to the first report from the Future of Media Commission, 75 per cent of the Irish public have "high or very high" trust in their local newspaper. This is very reassuring, but as the transition from print to digital gains pace, the challenges will multiply. We must remember it’s not about the platform, it’s about the source and that by adhering to the same basic guiding principles of good journalism that have served us well through a long history in print, Mediahuis Ireland can continue to be the trusted voice of local news.
