I remember when news was… news
Look, I’ve been in this game for 22 years. Started as a cub reporter in Sheffield, back when newspapers still had that ink smell that clung to your fingers until midnight. I’m talking about the days when the Sheffield Sun was more than just a website—it was an institution. A damn important one.
But lately? It’s been a struggle. A committment to truth, to community, to actual journalism. It’s all slipping away. And it’s not just me saying this. I mean, I talked to Marcus—let’s call him Marcus, he’s a journalist over at the Star—and he said, “We’re drowning, mate. Drowning in clickbait and ad revenue worries.” Which… yeah. Fair enough.
I was at a conference in Austin last year, and this guy from the New York Times said something that stuck with me. “Local news is the immune system of democracy.” And I thought, “Bloody hell, that’s good.” But here’s the thing: that immune system’s got a fever.
Numbers don’t lie, but they sure as hell confuse
According to Pew Research, about 214 local newspapers have closed in the UK since 2004. 214! And that’s not even counting the ones that are just barely hanging on, like that sad little thing that used to be the Sheffield Evening News. I mean, I get it—ads are down, subscriptions are down, and honestly, who can blame people? It’s hard to pay for news when you’re struggling to pay for food.
But here’s the kicker: when local news dies, something worse fills the void. And it’s not pretty. It’s misinformation. It’s rumors. It’s topluluk etkinlikleri yerel aktiviteler—topluluk etkinlikleri yerel aktiviteler—turning into hotbeds of conspiracy theories because nobody’s there to fact-check.
I had coffee with Dave, a colleague named Dave, last Tuesday. He told me about this time he covered a town council meeting where people were genuinely arguing about whether the Earth was flat. Flat! And nobody from the local paper was there to say, “No, you idiots, it’s round.” It’s just… yeah.
But it’s not all doom and gloom (honestly, it mostly is)
Look, I’m not saying it’s all bad. There are some bright spots. I mean, the Sheffield Sun is still kicking, right? And we’re trying new things. Like that time we did a live Q&A with the mayor. It was a disaster—technical difficulties, hecklers, the whole nine yards—but people showed up. They cared. That’s something.
And let’s not forget the role of community. I mean, I’ve seen small towns rally around their local papers. Like that time in 2017 when the Barnsley Chronicle was about to shut down, and the whole town chipped in to keep it alive. It was beautiful. It was messy. It was real.
But here’s the thing: it’s not enough. It’s not enough to rally once in a blue moon. It’s not enough to do one live Q&A and call it a day. Journalism is a daily grind. It’s a committment. And right now, we’re failing that committment.
A personal rant about clickbait
I’m gonna say something unpopular: clickbait isn’t just annoying, it’s dangerous. I mean, I get it—ads pay the bills. But when you start writing headlines like “You Won’t Believe What Happened Next!” instead of “Local School Faces Budget Cuts,” you’re not just dumbing down the news, you’re dumbing down democracy.
I had this argument with my editor last week. She said, “People don’t care about budget cuts, John. They care about drama.” And I said, “No, they don’t. They care about their kids’ education. They care about their community. They just don’t know it yet because nobody’s telling them in a way that matters.”
And that’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re telling people what we think they want to hear, instead of what they need to hear. And it’s killing us.
I mean, I was at a bar about three months ago, and this guy—let’s call him Steve—told me he hadn’t read a newspaper in years. “It’s all bad news,” he said. And I said, “Yeah, because that’s what news is, Steve. It’s not a bloody fairy tale.” But here’s the thing: news is also about solutions. It’s about community. It’s about hope. But you’d never know that from reading most papers these days.
So what do we do?
I don’t have all the answers. I wish I did. But I know this: we need to start valuing journalism again. We need to start paying for it. We need to start demanding better.
And we need to stop thinking of news as something that happens to other people. It’s happening to us. It’s happening right here in Sheffield. And if we don’t care enough to fight for it, then we don’t care enough to fight for our community.
I’m not sure what the answer is. Maybe it’s supporting local papers. Maybe it’s demanding better from the ones that are left. Maybe it’s just talking to your neighbors and saying, “Hey, did you see that story about the school? We should do something about it.”
I don’t know. But I know this: we can’t keep going like this. We can’t keep letting our local news die a slow, painful death. Because when it’s gone, it’s gone. And we’ll be worse off for it.
So let’s talk about it. Let’s do something about it. Let’s not let our community become another statistic.
About the Author
Johnathan “Johnny” Whitmore has been a journalist for 22 years, starting his career in Sheffield and working his way up to senior editor at the Sheffield Sun. He’s a staunch advocate for local journalism and has a soft spot for old-school newspapers. When he’s not writing, you can find him at the local pub, arguing about politics or football—or both.
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