Abstract
Editor's Note: C.W. Anderson, one of the authors of the book reviewed here, serves as an Associate Editor for the journal. Book reviews for the journal are managed solely by the Book Reviews Editor and the Editor-in-Chief, and thus Dr Anderson was not involved in commissioning, editing, or deciding whether to publish this review. For future reference, we have updated our submission guidelines to clarify that we will not commission nor publish reviews of any books authored or coauthored by the journal's Editor-in-Chief, Associate Editors, Book Reviews Editor, or Managing Editor.
That journalism is in a state of crisis is self-evident. It is not simply a financial crisis, but, as others, including myself, have pointed out, a far more pervasive, existential crisis (Carlson & Lewis 2015; Hermida 2019; Papacharissi 2015). Against this context, The Journalism Manifesto is a timely and necessary intervention that lays out an astute indictment of the shortcomings of the institution of journalism, suggesting from the start that “its future is surely at risk,” (2).
In just over 100 pages, Zelizer, Boczkowski, and Anderson highlight the growing gaps between what journalism is, and what it should and could be. The Journalism Manifesto starts off by questioning core assumptions that prop up journalism as an institution. Namely, they argue that the autonomy, centrality, cohesion, and permanence of journalism as an essential pillar of democratic society can no longer be taken for granted, if they ever could. In diagnosing the challenges, this powerhouse trio of authors focuses on three key aspects: elites, norms, and audiences. For Zelizer, Boczkowski, and Anderson, elites, norms, and audiences “play a critical role in cementing journalism's irrelevance and deepening its institutional disarray,” (16).
For elites, the challenge goes beyond journalism's tendency for reporting on elites, written by elites for elites. It has been exacerbated by what the authors call the crack up of the elites, illustrated by the rise of political leaders like Trump in the US and Bolsonaro in Brazil who have eroded prevalent democratic norms. When it comes to norms, they argue these are a “global northern imaginary” (67). The prevailing norms in journalism in the Global North are out of time, both literally and figuratively. Rather than address the current state of the media, these norms serve to draw “journalists back to a reality that exists more readily in history books and celebratory memoirs than in current newsrooms” (20). Such a gap applies to audiences too. The authors highlight the decoupling between journalism's imagined audience and actual practices and choices of the audience itself. Never mind the fact that the news media no longer have a captive audience that has long been taken for granted.
While much of the book is oriented around the Global North, it does attempt to present a more rounded picture by considering journalism in the Global South. There are some commonalities, with elites existing as much in the South as in the North. And, as the authors note, some of these political elites are eroding democratic values in both. One of the main takeaways for scholars and practitioners is the discussion of normative orientations which are more common in the Global South. There are lessons here for how journalism in the Global North could learn from anticolonial and antiracism norms common in the Global South, particularly at a time of reckoning in journalism (Callison & Young 2020).
Surprisingly, one fundamental aspect of journalism that is not addressed in the book is money. Funding is intrinsically intertwined with elites, norms and audiences. Money shapes what is covered, by whom and how, so it seems an odd omission in a manifesto for the future of journalism. Moreover, the business models of new digital-born journalism organizations are often predicated on novel approaches to elites, norms, and audiences that address the critiques raised in the book.
As it draws to a conclusion, The Journalism Manifesto ends up pulling its punches. After a devastating indictment of the shortcomings of journalism in its approach to elites, norms, and audiences, the final chapter falls short of prescribing an answer. Instead, it sets the terms for the debate on journalism's future that is taking place in newsrooms, classrooms, and scholarly circles. As a manifesto, it hedges its bets by laying out both a path for reform and for revolution.
The question is whether the time for debate is over. Arguably, the news industry has been going through a period of reform for more than two decades of digitalization that have seen the media landscape dramatically transformed. While some progress has been made in addressing the issues raised here, there are also indications that reform is not happening as rapidly and responsively as needed, in a context of polarization and the erosion of democratic discourse.
The annual Digital News Reports by the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism are evidence of the upheavals in journalism, consistently pointing to declining trust, ever-changing audience habits, and persistent challenges to business models in media markets across the world. Perhaps reform is just not enough. The institution of journalism, from practitioners to academics, risks being left behind by the speed of change in the very elites, norms, and audiences analyzed in the book.
While The Journalism Manifesto covers ground that will be familiar to digital journalism scholars, its value lies in the clarity of the exposition and argumentation. As such, the book serves as a wake-up call to the fragility of what is considered one of the essential institutions of democracy. Overall, it is a commendable, contemplative contribution to the journalism studies literature that will also be of interest to those in the fields of political communication, media policy, and media industries. It is bound to fuel impassioned conversations in newsrooms, classrooms, and conferences, leaving it up to readers to decide whether to follow the path of reform or revolution.