Pity the voiceless when Ministers snigger at media

I’VE never bought the “all in this together” line. Since coronavirus turned our world upside down, I’ve seen far more division than pulling together.

Never more so than in the growing discord between the public and the media. At least 18,000 people have registered their complaint at Newsnight presenter Emily Maitlis and her coverage of Dominic Cummings.

I’m generalising massively with both “public” and “media”. That’s what journalists do, isn’t it? Apply a great big broad brush to any topic and make things up to suit their own agenda?

Actually no, it isn’t. I’ve worked – and continue to work with – some of the very best. The one thing that unites them is the desire to cut through hype and deliver the truth. Whether it’s reviewing refrigerators or holding a Cabinet minister to account, they work on behalf of their readers, listeners and viewers.

I’ve been writing and editing for 30-odd years. For a decade, I also taught journalism at a Yorkshire university. Along the way I’ve met many parents who have gushed at me with ambitions for their offspring to “work in the media”.

What often struck me about these conversations is the degree of ignorance – and I don’t use that word lightly – about how the media actually operates.

Too often people whom I consider to be well-educated and informed seem to think that the stories they read, listen to and watch appear out of the ether, as if some suspicious alchemy takes place.

In reality, much of what journalists do is hard slog; persuading people to admit to wrongdoing, holding politicians and other powerful figures to account, especially when democratic processes are suspended, checking facts for fear of libel and, let’s not forget, presenting it all in an engaging manner.

If it was such an awful job, why are so many young people keen to make it their career? I’d warn them, proceed only if you have the stomach for it. When a government minister – Matt Hancock – can laugh openly at an experienced news anchor, Kay Burley, asking perfectly reasonable questions about test and trace, it’s no easy ride.

I’m old enough to remember a kind of tacit tolerance, even grudging respect for journalists from politicians. And we do still take guidance from our political leaders. Yet if they can snigger at serious enquiries and dodge questions constantly – Mr Johnson and Mr Cummings, guilty – is it any wonder that public respect is eroding?

A recent YouGov poll of 1,652 people for Sky News found that two-thirds of the public don’t trust TV journalists, and almost three-quarters don’t trust newspaper journalists.

Why? I am still waiting for someone to offer me a justified argument. I’ve been told that the relentless pressurising has been out of step with an anxious public seeking national unity.

“We never come out that well in polls. We’re never going to be up there with Mother Teresa,” said Sky News presenter Mark Austin, in response to the findings.

“A lot of the criticism I’ve seen online is about [the media] not supporting the Government enough, missing the mood of the country, not making a positive contribution.”

Mr Austin puts it better than I can. There is a very clear dividing line between proper journalism and public relations, and if we cherish our democratic freedoms we should back the first horse.

If journalists don’t exist, who tells the stories? Who acts as a medium between private experience and public attention? I’d say don’t be too quick to dismiss us.

There are many more

If journalists don’t exist, who tells the stories? I’d say don’t be too quick to dismiss us.

important stories to come as we struggle to recover from this pandemic. Without my colleagues to tell them, they will sink without trace. I’ll give you an example.

A friend of my son’s worked his socks off to gain an apprenticeship with a major engineering firm in Sheffield. He’s everything that the future of Yorkshire ought to be; ambitious, focused and employed in an industry which should be forming the bedrock of economic recovery.

He was doing well, until coronavirus. At the age of 18, he is now facing the very real possibility of redundancy, his future completely upended, dreams of buying a home shattered.

I mention this story because I see it as my moral duty to highlight his case, and by connection, remind you of thousands of other young people in the same plight. If I don’t say it, who will? Think of this next time you blame journalists for all that is wrong in this world.