On Journalism & Solidarity
Or, reflections on a legitimate concern common among journalists (and others)
I am certain that many people, in many different walks of life, wonder if they are doing enough to make the world better, to alleviate suffering, and to just fundamentally be a good person. I’d be skeptical of anyone who did not worry about these things from time to time. But I work in journalism and, at least I like to think, I understand journalism. So I want to explore this idea by talking about journalism.
Recently Nathan J. Robinson wrote an article in his magazine Current Affairs titled “On Being Overwhelmed By Feelings of Complicity and Paralysis.” The headline explains the piece well. Robinson grapples with his sense of efficacy with regard to the weightiest problems facing us: climate change, the threat of nuclear war, the state of labor in America, healthcare, immigration, poverty — it’s not a short list of problems, and that is part of his point.
He writes:
I suppose the job of a left media organization is to try, however futile it may seem, to keep attention on the most pressing moral priorities: stopping war, stopping the climate disaster, building the labor movement, reproductive justice, justice for immigrants, ending mass incarceration, etc. Given the size of the gap between what needs to be done on each issue and what has been done, one can feel a certain paralysis, and in the last couple of years I have found it increasingly difficult to get myself to write. I’ve done something like 1,000 articles, and it feels like I could do 1,000 more with little effect. But I remind myself that there are obligations to the victims. I don’t like the phrase “silence is violence,” but I do think silence is complicity, and as I look back on previous periods in history, I admire those who spoke out against atrocities, and I look with contempt on those who said and did nothing.
I greatly admire Robinson’s commitment to improving the world. I also greatly empathize with his sense of powerlessness. More than both of those things, I applaud his willingness to more or less challenge himself publicly. That is not an easy thing to do.
However, I think he is selling himself short here. I don’t know precisely how many people subscribe to Current Affairs but I know Robinson has 102,000 followers on Twitter. If Current Affairs had even just 1% of those as subscribers, that is 1,000 people who look to Robinson and staff to help them make sense of and understand the world. (I’m positive I’m lowballing here but it’s a nice round number and illustrates the point). It’s also 1,000 people who probably think to themselves, “I relate to how this guy thinks, I’m glad he is saying it better than I ever could.” That is a lot of influence that can be wielded for good—including spurring others to do good. There are probably mayors and other leaders who don’t have that level of influence. There aren’t many people throughout history who can claim to have that kind of reach.
If it sounds like I’m speaking from experience, I am. I’ve been a subscriber for years and quite simply, it makes me happy it exists. It has made me smarter, it has helped shape some of my views which I then share with other people. In fact, Robinson himself has written multiple times about the importance of joy, and specifically the kind of joy that comes from solidarity. I remember first encountering Current Affairs, one of the things I found empowering was simply that someone was willing to say: Hey, living should be fun. We should try to make life joyous for as many people as possible.
It’s a simple thing to say, yet sadly uncommon, and it resonated with me.
When I began my career in journalism, if you had asked me why journalism is important or you asked me what are the objectives of journalism, solidarity would not have been among my answers. I would have said probably three different things:
Journalism informs. This is perhaps the most basic and more core function. People want and need information and journalists go out and get that information and bring it back to them. Sometimes this even means transmitting information over time: It’s often said journalism is the first draft of history.
Journalism holds people accountable. This is probably the second most familiar answer. There are powerful people in the government and other aspects of life. Journalists' job is to make sure they aren’t exploiting their power and taking advantage of people. This idea is often expressed as “Journalism is the fourth estate” or “the fourth branch of government”
Journalism provides a public form. Robust discussion and debate of ideas is a hallmark of a democratic society and journalism organizations traditionally have been places where differing voices can offer perspectives and opinions on various matters. Not just professional journalists, either. Letters to the editor and radio callers and commenting forums are a place for everyone to have their say. Of course, the limits of “their say” is often hotly contested.
And I believe all of these things are still true today. But my experience has taught me that solidarity is another value. For those unaware, I am the publisher of a website called Talking Points Memo. We’ve done reader surveys for years, but last year we modified them a bit and started doing focus groups. This allows us to ask more detailed questions and really get to understand views toward TPM. One thing that came up again and again and again was a combination of happiness we even existed and relief that we were doing ok financially. People would say it motivated them to know we were doing our job. The work at TPM gave them hope and it made them feel less alone and not so insane.
When I write it out, it seems obvious. You, the reader might even have said to yourself “that’s obvious, Joe.” But it really wasn’t intuitive to me. It’s very, very easy to get caught up in this cycle of “Ok well journalism informs people to make decisions and then they are supposed to make the right decisions and then the world gets better. So where are the results? Where’s the new laws? Where are the expanded rights and protections? Where’s the this or that.” You get the idea. And those things DO matter, but it’s easy to become myopic and lose track of what is and is not in our control, and forget the good that’s actually coming from the work. Solidarity is one of those things. Robinson writing in 2018:
Actions like Saturday’s marches also have an important function for their participants. It’s a lonely world out there, and people are isolated and depressed. It’s so, so important not to be desperate alone, to find people who can remind you that you’re sane, and to whom you can talk honestly. I was overwhelmed with joy at seeing so many people whose values I shared, working together to further those values. As communities and civic life have been eroded, and ordinary people are shut out from the political process, one can often feel completely disconnected from meaningful collective action. It’s crucial to find other people who care about the things that ought to be cared about, and to feel as if one is part of an actual movement.
Journalism can do these same things. And it does.
If I wanted to just give Robinson a pep talk I could have emailed him. But I suspect a lot of journalists and activists and people in all sorts of professions harbor these concerns. I’ve written about a sense of helplessness before. Everyone wants to feel a sense of efficacy, a sense of relatedness to others, and a sense of autonomy, but unfortunately our society is not really designed with the support of those basic psychological needs in mind. It’s good to keep this in mind. It’s good to be aware that we all are searching for these basic things. It helps to have more appreciation for each other, which maybe spurs us to be more forthcoming with our generosity and say “hey, thanks for doing that. It meant a lot to me.” You never know who needs to hear it. That’s what solidarity is all about. We all need to keep pushing forward and sometimes it's hard and we have to pick each other up and say, “don’t forget: you're not alone.”