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Every time someone asks me about what major I’m taking, and I tell them, there’s a pause. Then a quiet, almost pessimistic look, before launching another question, which by this point feels predictable.
“Why?” they ask. “Are there still young people who want to become journalists these days?”
The curiosity seems to quickly turn into judgment. And I don’t blame them. I’ve had this conversation many times with family, friends, people I just met, even the sources I interview.
At first, journalism sounded exciting to me. I imagined myself chasing stories, meeting different people, learning many things and constantly discovering new perspectives.
From the outside looking in, journalism looked simple and straightforward: Write stories worth sharing and tell the truth.
But the deeper I went into it, the more complicated it became.
Reality check
Journalists today are expected to understand everything, from politics to the economy, environmental issues, public health crises, culture, and everything else under the sun.
At the same time, we’re expected to understand video production, social media posts, podcast interviews, audience engagement metrics, formats, platforms and measurements designed to enhance journalism, but ultimately complicate how stories are produced, distributed and framed.
For someone who’s learning the ropes to be a good journalist, you can imagine the frustration. I find myself wondering what all of this is really for.
Because, let’s be honest, who still reads the news the way it’s meant to be read or consumed? We scroll, we skim, we swipe, we post, but we rarely sit down and read the news. At least, not the way it used to be read.
I don’t even remember the last time my dad read a newspaper. The man in the vest who tosses newspapers onto my front door every morning feels almost mythical now, like a character from a world that no longer exists.
Today, news simply appears on Instagram, TikTok or whatever platform we endlessly scroll through. Often, we judge the relevance of a piece of news based on the headline alone. This is how news is consumed now, easily gawked at, but rarely given the attention it deserves. According to the Reuters Institute Digital News Report, around 57 percent of Indonesians access news through social media, with about 40 percent relying on it as their main source.
As if that’s not enough challenge for the media industry, press freedom is also hanging in the balance. In recent years, journalists have increasingly faced intimidation, legal pressures and public backlash. In Indonesia alone, this past year has seen prominent media outlets like Tempo, CNN Indonesia and Magdalene face political pressure, increased surveillance and intimidation regarding their publications. And many fear this is just the beginning.
Some of the senior journalists I follow on social media are also increasingly vocal about these issues. Shrinking editorial freedom, newsroom pressures and the struggle of keeping media organizations alive have made it almost impossible for the fourth pillar of democracy to sustain itself.
That's the other reality people rarely see. It’s not just about surviving economic uncertainties and the changing media landscapes, but also about preserving freedom of the press.
The battle of the newsroom
With declining readers and revenue, newsrooms are pushed to compete for clicks, engagement and attention. Slowly, the question shifts from “What is important for people to know?” to “What do people actually want to know?”
Unfortunately, the two don’t always go hand in hand. I learned this firsthand as a student journalist.
When I signed up to become a reporter at my university’s student-run media organization three years ago, I imagined the job was simple: report information and facts as accurately as possible. I didn’t think much about audience reactions, public backlash, or how people might interpret a story after its publication.
I soon found out how wrong I was.
“Don’t just write articles you find interesting. Write something people would actually click and read. If you already have a topic, discuss it with the editors first, then we’ll decide whether it’s worth publishing or not,” said the editor in chief at that time.
I remember feeling confused. Annoyed, even. Why the need for discussions, at all? Why can’t we just write and publish stories? As long as the information we deliver is truthful and genuine, it should be good enough for publication. Right?
Well, in theory, maybe. Now I understand why the discussions are not only needed, they serve as a filtering mechanism.
After two years being involved in the student-run media organization, I eventually became editor in chief, a position I had actually rejected several times because I already knew how difficult it would be.
The longer I stayed in the newsroom, the more I realized that news no longer moves in a single direction from journalists to audiences. Readers today don’t just consume information at face value. They analyze it, question the framing, repost it with their own opinions, and turn headlines into public debates.
This means every editorial decision feels heavier.
Once, I stopped campus reporters from covering sexual violence cases because they were already being handled by the appropriate committee, and to protect the victim’s privacy. Other times, I rejected articles criticizing the university because there was not enough verified evidence and the risks were too high.
Each time I rejected those ideas, I knew my team members were questioning my decisions the same way I used to question my editors’ decisions. Especially when you have a team of young reporters who bring great excitement and pure idealism into the newsroom. Sometimes, the more sensitive the topic is, the more eager they are to publish it.
Last month, two reporters pitched an article about the newest title in the Resident Evil video game franchise, and I rejected the pitch because they didn’t bring any depth to the idea. A few minutes later, they returned with a different pitch, a story about the virality and social impacts of jomok or gay jokes.
I paused, immediately questioning everything again. Should we publish the story? If yes, what angle should we take? Would it be too risky? What if people misunderstand the message? How would we know where to draw the line?
In the end, I green lit the piece, on the condition that the journalists conduct a survey, find supporting data and are careful with the wording. I even asked them to put their full names, majors and batch years at the end of the article as a form of accountability.
When the article was published, it exploded overnight. More than 20,000 likes, 3,500 comments, 900 reposts and 30,000 shares.
The public’s reaction was exactly what I feared and expected at the same time. Some people agreed. Some were offended. Some questioned the article entirely. Others turned it into debate material in the comment section.
This helps me to better understand why newsroom discussions are necessary, because the weight of publishing a story, any story, always goes beyond facts.
Sometimes, the harder question is whether we are fully prepared for everything that comes after a story is published. Because on top of fighting misinformation, journalism is also competing against interpretation, framing, algorithms and the noise of the internet itself.
Fighting the good fight
Even after learning the nitty-gritty of the newsroom and its many challenges, I still think studying journalism is worth it.
In ways more than one, journalism turns you into a lifelong learner. It forces you to always be curious, to understand people and what moves them and to question the world around you.
Yes, the media industry is struggling, public trust is declining, and social media has completely changed how information finds its channel of distribution. But I do not think that means we should abandon journalism.
If anything, it makes journalism even more necessary.
We live in a precarious time when everyone can claim themselves as journalists or truth-seekers armed only with a mobile phone and an internet connection, even an Instagram story can count as "citizen journalism”. But the work of an actual journalist goes beyond just capturing and delivering stories. In between, there’s a rigid process of verifying sources, fact-checking information, providing context and ensuring that a story does not cross any ethical boundaries.
I realize now that those outside of the industry tend to make light of journalism because they don’t truly understand how it works and why it’s necessary. While everyone claims to want the truth, very few actually have the insider knowledge of understanding what it takes to find, verify and present the truth to the public.
Today, my view of being a journalist has changed. It is no longer a dream profession, but more of a responsibility.
Whatever the future brings, I know I will continue to apply everything I’ve learned: Always pay attention to what people are saying. Keep reading every critical take. Be considerate of other people’s perspectives whether I agree or disagree with them. In short, I will not stop trying to understand how the world works and then writing about it.
And whenever I feel overwhelmed, I will remember that journalism is never about certainty. Not even for those working in the media industry.
Some days, I will doubt it.
Some days, I will defend it.
Most days, I will sit somewhere in between.
