The spectacular decline of the journalism profession is met with alarming indifference. The worst part is that we are getting used to it.

By Fabrice Fries AFP Chairman and CEO PHOTO

We are no longer surprised to read the grim tally of journalists killed in the line of duty, nor to learn – through an investigation by the Forbidden Stories collective – that of the more than 100 journalists killed in Gaza, several were clearly deliberately targeted; nor to hear that newsrooms are increasingly instructed to hide press armbands. 

It seems entirely normal to everyone that security budgets are rising exponentially in organisations involved in field journalism.

We are no longer surprised to hear that one of the first actions of Argentina’s Milei government was to shut down the Télam news agency, leaving 700 employees stranded, or to read that the newspaper La Nación lost all its government advertising revenue overnight. 

The unfolding of the populist “playbook” no longer comes as a surprise to anyone: the media, alongside the judiciary, are the first target.

We are no longer surprised to hear of the murder of a journalist in Mexico, whose name was thrown to the wolves on social media, or the suicide attempt of a German journalist, cyber-harassed by far-right trolls. 

Journalists have now accepted the reality that anything they have published in the past could one day be used to discredit them.

We are no longer surprised that “factual journalism” is stigmatised as a front for complicity with the establishment, or that organisations devoted to it are sometimes called upon to pick sides, to abandon a neutrality which, of course, is only seen as a front. 

Polarisation is undermining the legitimacy of these organisations, and the worst part is that this process of de-legitimisation has already delivered tangible results.

We are no longer surprised by the often-apocalyptic tone of some media conferences, whether discussing the news deserts emerging in the heart of the United States; the declining trust in the media; the increasing job cuts, or the impact of AI transforming search engines into answer engines, bypassing traditional media. 

Not to mention the pollution of the media ecosystem by AI-generated “cheap news” sites.

We are no longer surprised that each “breaking news” story has its counterpart in the form of information taken out of context, fabricated, or slightly reworked. 

No event seems to occur without some conspiracy theory being grafted onto it. Destabilisation campaigns have become so common that they rarely make the headlines. 

The same is true when platforms announce they are deleting hundreds of thousands of accounts. 

Disinformation has become widespread, daily – and factual journalism organisations have had no choice but to focus on the false, which has now become an integral part of the news cycle.

What is surprising, however, is that this does not provoke a stronger reaction. 

Often, what emerges from the testimonies of journalists who have faced these difficulties is how lonely and powerless they feel. 

For instance, where are the major voices that spoke out when the Forbidden Stories investigation was published? Look closely, there are really not that many. 

So, if World News Day can help raise awareness, spark a reaction – even a modest one – then long live World News Day!