Opinions, Interview, News

Who Will Tell the Story Next? Three Generations Reflect on Today’s Journalism Crisis

In the aftermath of the 2024 United States presidential election, writer and editor Dan Froomkin had four words to say: “I blame the media.” 

Throughout the years, the media has shaped the movement of the world. Ida B. Wells’ exposure of Southern lynching of African Americans in 1892. Walter Cronkite’s 1968 broadcast declaring the Vietnam War a stalemate. The coverage of the Watergate break-in that won the Washington Post a Pulitzer Prize in 1973 and ultimately led to Richard Nixon’s resignation. Journalists have the responsibility to uncover the truth, and they also have the power to shape public perception of it. They’ve exposed scandals and corruption, brought unknown horrors to light, and set off vast political movements. They’re a prominent force in keeping the government in check.

The key battleground of many political and ideological conflicts today lies in the media. After all, the onus has long been on the news to uphold the truth: to disseminate factual information in a timely manner. 

Yet today, there’s a growing sentiment among Americans: it’s the journalists’ fault.

For what, exactly? It depends on who you ask. 51% of U.S. adults believe that a person who “offers opinions or commentary on current events” is not a true journalist. They criticize journalists for being too biased. And 49% think journalists are losing influence in society. These people want reporters to advocate more for certain communities and continue to act as a watchdog over authority.

Different people have different perspectives, but one thing stands out: we are increasingly dissatisfied with journalism today. Gallup reports that Americans’ trust in mass media is at a record low of 28%. Journalists face pressure from all sides. It’s difficult to please anyone and paradoxical to please everyone.

However, public disapproval of the media is just one of numerous issues journalists face today. They have a more pressing concern: survival. 

According to U.S. Census Bureau data, newspaper revenue from advertising dropped by nearly 50% from 2013 to 2021. As news aversion rises and former viewers increasingly turn to social media, the news industry is buckling under the financial strain. Salaries drop, shows are cancelled, and companies are sold. 

As a kid reporter for TIME For Kids at the age of 10 in 2020 and a correspondent for Nickelodeon’s Nick News throughout middle school, I witnessed such changes firsthand. Nick News adjusted from 60 Minutes-style reporting for kids on linear TV to shorter, TikTok-esque vertical videos. When I talked to my producer about the shift, she said, “I had to learn a lot because I’m not used to filming and editing the new way—but I learned and am still learning. I think that’s what I’m enjoying most; after many, many years in the TV business—when I really thought I knew it all—I was wrong. There’s always a new technique, a new app, and a new way to get to the heart of a story.”

She was a seasoned producer who had worked on several well-known shows for over 25 years. She knew how to adapt. How to survive.

But it wasn’t enough to fight the whirlwind of political and financial pressure that engulfed the media. In preparation for the Paramount-Skydance merger, Nick News was canceled. My producer lost her job.

Many journalists are being let go, some replaced by AI assistants. Others, frustrated about not being allowed to express what they want to say, are leaving the field for other communications careers. When I attended the Asian American Journalists Association (AAJA)’s annual convention last August, I was surprised by how many panels there were about finding employment. 

No one seems to care, or even know, about the predicaments that journalists are facing. Instead, people tend to conflate reporters with the institutions they represent. Terms such as “accuracy,” “trust,” and “bias” are pinned to the larger concept of “the media,” but it is journalists who bear the brunt of that blame. Often, we forget that behind the bold headlines and neat rows of words in Times New Roman font, there are people just like us: breathing, eating, laughing, crying…and keeping the news industry alive. 

Journalists are storytellers of our culture, politics and life. But who is telling their stories? I spoke with 3 generations of journalists I met at AAJA’s Seattle convention. Through their eyes, I took a peek at the life of the people behind the “breaking news” and learned how they are coping with some of the unprecedented changes shaking up the media world.

Overwork, Underpay, and a Question of Market Size

Born to an immigrant family who fled Vietnam after the Vietnam War, Jamie Nguyen grew up in San Gabriel Valley. A SoCal native turned New Yorker, Nguyen worked at ABC and NBC before becoming a senior producer for CBS News. Although she initially wanted to be a reporter on TV, Nguyen fell in love with producing after watching a producer command the control room behind the scenes. As a journalist, she’s uncovered fraud and advocated for the Asian-American community. But before all of that, Jamie recalls how her career in the news industry started: “My first job, I made minimum wage. And I produced the morning show, which is at 6 a.m. So I was going into work at 10 o’clock at night. And I remember my aunt was like, why are you working these hours when you have a college degree?” 

Not everyone can move on to become a successful TV program producer in a large market. What Nguyen described is the reality many journalists are still facing today: long hours and low pay. According to the Pew Research Center, “newsroom employees are more than twice as likely as other U.S. workers to be college graduates,” but “tend to make less money than college-educated workers in other industries.” Reporters are overworked and underpaid.

In the news industry, working overtime is inevitable, even expected. Nicholas Wu, a congressional reporter for POLITICO, recalls his experience reporting about the Big Beautiful Bill: “The unseen side of the story is what it takes to actually cover something like this. A lot of what we do is waiting outside of closed-door meetings. When it finally came time for the House to vote on this, they went overnight. So we’re there too.”

Unpredictable working hours are inherent in reporting. After all, journalism is not an office job where you can just clock out at 5 pm—news breaks on its own terms. However, reporters are exempt from overtime pay under the “creative professional” exception. More and more often, the news industry fails to pay back their sacrifices. Journalist Gretel Kahn wrote in Reuters that “Every year seems to be the worst year for journalism lately.” Speaking with young journalists trying to make it in the industry, Kahn reported that many of them had to move abroad, work multiple jobs, and take small internships just to have a chance at a better opportunity.

Climbing up the career ladder is not an easy task; it takes many jumps to reach coveted positions. In Nguyen’s case, 4 strides were key:  “I was born and raised in California, and my goal was to get to New York, because it’s the number one market. If you can make it in New York, in my brain, you can make it anywhere. So I slowly had to work my way to get to New York. I went from Palm Springs, which was market 168, to San Diego, which was market 27. Then I went to Houston, which was market 10 at the time. Then I finally made my way to New York, which was market number one.” 

Nguyen notes that nowadays, there are more opportunities to be hired directly into top markets because of the explosive popularity of digital news. However, the digital age has also brought a whole host of headaches for the news industry, especially due to social media and AI.

“News is Dead:” How Social Media and AI are Threatening Traditional Media

At AAJA, I attended a panel by the Associated Press called “Search is dead. News isn’t—if we evolve quickly.” Michael Giarrusso, the AP’s Vice President of News Strategy, shared his tips for newsrooms to adapt to an age of short attention spans and pervasive AI content.

I asked Nicholas Wu about his thoughts on the AP panel. “Well, for the sake of my employment, I would like for the news not to be dead,” he replied.

Descended from Chinese immigrants, Wu was raised in the suburbs of Detroit, where he was inspired by local Chinese American activists to take part in Asian American advocacy in college and beyond. He was a fellow at the National Journal and a political reporter at USA Today before working at POLITICO. Wu and I discussed news influencers on social media, many of whom summarize or comment on news broken by the media but receive more engagement than original sources. When I wondered whether news should adapt to social media, Wu said, “At the end of the day, someone has to be there actually asking the questions and reporting out the news in a way that still involves ‘shoe-leather reporting,’ so to speak—in my case, going up to a member of Congress and asking a question.” Shoe-leather reporting refers to traditional, on-the-ground journalism where a reporter is literally investigating on foot, walking from place to place.

It’s shoe-leather reporting and in-person interviews where the magic happens: unexpected moments, real-time coverage, and face-to-face interaction bring depth to news stories. Nguyen told me about a story of a fraud investigation into doctors who were recommending unnecessary surgery to steal money from insurance companies. “I was able to go in with a hidden camera and capture that and see it happening,” she recalled. “They were going to sign me up for sweaty palm surgery…I went all the way into the operating table and right before they were going to put me under, I walked away from it.” She remembers less about the details of the case and more about how it made her realize the power journalists have to document evidence and uncover the truth.

It was physically showing up that allowed Wu to get the scoop on the Big Beautiful Bill and Nguyen to land duplicitous doctors in jail. But modern journalism is rapidly evolving: social media and AI are a tornado shaking up the news industry. Some believe that the media should remain traditional and stay out of the social media sphere, emphasizing the importance of face-to-face connection in journalism. However, Sirui Hua, head of Audience & Analytics at NowThis, a social media-focused news organization, believes that social media is something that news should be capitalizing on. “You’ve got to follow the audience, where they are, and you’re going to create content that’s appealing to them.” Hua believes it is the obligation of the news to catch the attention of audiences in a content-saturated landscape.

Nguyen, on the other hand, thinks that “the onus is on the user to actually do some of their own homework” to find trustworthy sources of news. Are people losing interest in traditional media? More and more people are turning to social media instead of news. According to the Pew Research Center, over one-fifth of U.S. adults say they often get their news from social media. With the rise of news influencers on social media and the growing popularity of AI in the digital age, traditional forms of news such as print, radio, or television are facing declines.

News aversion is on the rise, and it affects newspapers beyond just drops in revenue. In the social media battle, the news industry has not emerged unscathed.

How Political Pressure Shapes “Freedom” of Speech

As audiences turn to social media and funds are shifted from the news industry to tech giants, newspapers are finding themselves sidelined under financial strain. According to the Pew Research Center, newsroom employment in the U.S. fell by 26% from 2008 to 2020, and both audiences and advertisement revenue continue to decline for traditional news media. In 2020, estimated circulation revenue exceeded advertisement revenue for the first time since the 1950s. 

I spoke with Sinyi Au, a recent Medill School of Journalism graduate, about why she decided to pursue journalism. “I actually grew up wanting to be a reporter because I saw how good journalism can have an impact on society,” she told me. “When I was in high school, there was another social movement in Hong Kong. And I really felt like the reporters were trying their best to do the work to document what was happening around us.”

Because of political censorship in Hong Kong, Au moved to the United States to study investigative journalism. However, as U.S. newspapers lose money, they also lose power. In conversation with Jesse Eisinger, film producer Lori Butterfield explains Eisinger’s claim that “for decades the business model underpinning traditional news outlets has been unraveling.” Although wealthy families used to act as uninvolved stewards for major newspapers, they are now interfering, prioritizing personal agendas over principled journalism. Young journalists like Au may have difficulties finding a platform for their voice.

Even seasoned veterans in the content world are facing political backlash. Curtis Chin, filmmaker, activist, and author of Everything I Learned, I Learned in a Chinese Restaurant, earns revenue from book tours and talks that he gives around the country. However, many of Chin’s events were canceled due to a pushback on diverse representation. “I have a memoir. It’s about growing up Asian-American in Detroit, right? I don’t know if I set out with a political agenda, but it’s just my story,” Chin told me.

“May is usually Asian-American heritage month. And I’m usually booked back to back, giving speeches. But starting in February, I was getting cancellations from schools because they lost their funding. Even if you don’t consider your book a DEI book, the fact that you’re a person of color automatically categorizes you in that space. It affects me in the sense of this chilling effect of like, well, am I going to be able to write and talk about the stories that I care about in this country?”

Chin did not write his memoir with DEI on his mind. Yet he has lost a source of income simply because his book was written by an Asian-American. Chin experienced a similar chilling effect after the 1982 killing of Vincent Chin, in which Chinese American Vincent Chin was beaten to death in a hate crime by two white automobile workers. “Our families were friends,” Chin said. “My uncle was his best man. And so we found out that very next day, that Saturday morning, that he was in the hospital in a coma fighting for his life. And so I wanted to check the papers to see how they were responding to it, right? Or reporting it. None of them wrote anything about it.”

It took the media 12 days to cover Vincent Chin’s case. “In the interim, his family actually had to pull the plug. They canceled the wedding. All this stuff was going on, right? And people in our community, the Chinese community, were coming into our restaurant trying to find out what happened, you know, what was going on.”

“That’s when I first started thinking, you know what, we need to tell our stories because God forbid another bad thing happens, but people don’t even know who you are.” When Chin’s talks about his book were canceled, he lost a way to tell people who he was. His story was ignored.

It’s when the voice of the truth is threatened that it most urgently needs to be heard—especially the truths of minorities. At the height of AAPI hate in 2021, Jamie Nguyen produced an NBC special called “The Racism Virus,” using her platform to bring attention to the violence. “During the Asian hate, during the pandemic, I did a lot of work highlighting some of the crimes that took place,” she explained. “And I don’t think that Asian Americans have really dominated the national conversation until that moment in time. So it was a big leap of faith for me to be pushing for those stories because there’s not a lot of people that look like us making decisions.”

Nguyen’s power as a producer allowed her to spotlight an issue she cared about. Today, however, voices like Chin’s are being marginalized. Without funds, newspapers are losing the influence to fend off political pressure. Journalists are being attacked by financial, political, and AI whirlwinds. 

So how do they survive?

Moving Forward

Although young journalists struggle to find work, Au told me that “the variety of jobs that you can have in the newsroom is definitely better than before.”

“I don’t think audience editors existed 10 years ago,” Au noted. “Podcasts didn’t exist. And then there are AI-assisted reporters that people are trying to hire. And graphics, visualization, data stuff that people are working on.” She recommends aspiring journalists to learn as many of these new skills as possible.

In a time of political turmoil and skyrocketing AI progress, everything is being upended in the journalism world. But Aleena Khan, a Medill alum alongside Au, told me that “I am really optimistic and hopeful, seeing a lot of the work that’s being done on the ground. And especially people in our generation, too. Or even retired journalists starting their own news company and being like, ‘Hey, I didn’t really like corporate media. I want to do my own thing.’”

Sometimes, being in journalism can feel like a rollercoaster. Khan acknowledges that “I feel like my baseline of hope is like, I feel like I’m going to have those days where I’m like, oh man, journalism. But then there’s days where I’m like, yay, journalism!”

In the face of public blame, political turmoil, and financial strain, the media is evolving. Regardless of where it ends up, the journalists are the ones who will keep using their words to make that shift. I asked Khan what her strategy would be moving forward. “Stay adaptable, because things are going to change,” she said. “Things are changing right now.”