MALAIKA MAHLATSI | What is at stake when we lose journalists?

In July 2020, in the midst of the brutalising Covid-19 pandemic that devastated national economies across the globe, the South African National Editors’ Forum released a shocking statistic: between 2010 and 2020, the country lost more than 50% of its journalists, with the number declining from about 10,000 to just under 5,000.

Four years later, in 2024, it was estimated that the news media workforce had declined by 70%. Since then, various publications and newsrooms have cut hundreds of jobs.

In less than half a decade, publications with long histories — both commercial and independent — have shut their doors or ceased their print editions.

There are multi-layered explanations for this catastrophe, at the centre of which is an unsustainable financial model that makes print media, particularly, incompatible with the digital age.

“With every job cut in the news media industry, an important part of our democracy dies.”

—  Malaika Mahlatsi

These include, among other things, high overhead costs for printing; facilitating daily or weekly distribution; declining advertising revenues; loss of highly profitable classified sections; a generational shift characterised by a younger demographic who grew up entirely online; and evolving reading habits that have created shorter attention spans as people prioritise short-form, convenient and instant/fast content.

But this is not what I am thinking about today. My mind is on a different matter, namely what is at stake for the democratic project when our country continues to lose so many journalists and publications.

The jobs bloodbath that we’re seeing in the news media industry is not just an economic question. It goes far deeper than people losing jobs, households losing incomes, or the tax pool declining. It is a question about the very soul of our democracy.

Like many people, I have strong views and criticism of local news media. It is not always progressive, nor are journalists always above reproach. Almost daily, I read articles riddled with misinformation — false and inaccurate information that, even without intended malice, does great harm.

I’ve also encountered disinformation — false, fabricated, or manipulated information that is deliberately and knowingly created and spread to mislead, deceive, or cause harm.

I’m the last person to argue that the media is inherently fair or free of biases. My critique of news media is well-documented. But I stand firm in the belief that independent media is a crucial institutional guardrail of our democracy.

Even with some limitations, the news media still functions as a public watchdog that holds our problematic government, private and civil society sectors accountable.

The news media has done a lot to ensure that South Africans have the information needed to participate in civic life and make the necessary demands of our leaders and institutions. SA would be in a far worse place than we’re currently in if not for the work of journalists, many of whom have had to contend with pervasive political attacks and even threats to their lives.

Our collective right to know how those in power use our resources and the mandate we have given them to lead has consistently been protected by the news media.

With every job cut in the news media industry, an important part of our democracy dies. We’re not just losing participants in a labour market; we’re losing the strength of a democracy we hold dear.

We’re losing an instrument that enables us to think more critically and to ask difficult questions — to see our country both as it is and as it could be.

This is not a negligible loss or one that time will heal. It is a loss that will change SA — and not for the better.