The big question: Are bloggers just journalists by another name? Does it really matter?

Are bloggers journalists? Until recently, it was a fairly pointless question debated by those trying to justify an aspiration or maintain their position as part of an elite.

But as the traditional media looks to UGC to maintain its own viability, the credentials of bloggers as citizen journalists has been brought sharply into focus.

Can bloggers be journalists? For sure. Having said that, there are professional journalists who have, in my book, no claim to the title many of us have worked hard to maintain with a modicum of integrity.

So what is a journalist? One common attribute is the ability to get to the nub of the matter. My definition is, therefore, simple. It’s also a definition that has divided opinion in newsrooms I’ve run. I believe it, but never say I’m right – and that’s the first important lesson: Every journalist has to work it out for him or herself, because it’s more about who you are than what you do.

I’ve employed, I guess, over 100 trainee journalists, and I’ve given them all the same two pointers. 1. I like people with good manners who are nice to each other and work hard. 2. Remember, every time you go out as a journalist, you carry with you my reputation; the newspaper’s reputation; the reputation of past journalists who gave us the chance to be here and – most importantly – your own reputation. Look after it.

In some ways, it’s baffling why a blogger might want to call themself a journalist in the first place, given that the word has almost become a euphimism for low-life skulduggery. But this much I can say. As a young reporter, I found it simply magical that people would open up their lives to, and place their trust in, a stranger from the local paper.

In my first week an old lady, mourning the loss of her Great War hero husband after 60 years of marriage, invited me in for tea to tell me the most incredible love story, letting me borrow her husband’s diary, medals, letters and photographs. I felt hugely privileged and I know many, if not most, professional journalism careers start out with similar experiences. You never forget that feeling.

Sadly, there are a few journalists who, if they ever did have a sense of responsibility, left it in the bin next to their principles. They are mercenaries fighting a dirty war. And they’ve done their share of damage to the foundations on which regional media businesses were built: information you can trust.

Another slightly odd aspect to this debate is that we’ve somehow attached the silent prefix ‘professional’ before ‘journalist’. I still think the term ‘citizen journalist’ has the ring of an oxymoron. Contrast this with the term ‘musician’. A cornet player with the Black Dyke Mills Brass Band is up there with a professional orchestral trumpeter in my eyes, and I’m sure they’d agree. I’ve played in professional and semi-professional bands, as well as amateur rehearsal big bands, since I was 16 – the quality of the music was what counted.

As with a professional musician, the only real measure of a professional journalist is not about how good you are, it’s about how bad you’re not. In the journalist’s case, the ability to produce a steady flow of acceptable work to deadline that won’t land the editor in jail. Professionalism is about delivering consistent ROI. Excellence, in both cases, is driven by the desire to achieve for yourself or the team.
Professionals may have time and consistent practice to excel more often, but it doesn’t mean amateurs can’t achieve great results.

What real journalism is NOT is the ability to string a few paragraphs together, or take a photograph, or design a page, or shoot a video. These are acquired skills most people could learn relatively easily. Yes, a journalist needs to know the law and write to style. But it’s not rocket science. Put it this way, who remembers the intro on Bernstein and Woodward’s Watergate expose? Who moaned about the composition and lighting in Bob Capa’s legendary D-Day photos? Journalism employs tools and skills. But they don’t define the journalist.

Here’s something else journalism is NOT about: the truth. If the truth existed, there would be no market for opinion and most media – and pubs, for that matter – would close tomorrow. The moment a journalist – or any of us – puts pen to paper or points a camera, we are making an interpretation incorporating personal or cultural prejudice. Going back a step, interpretation feeds on information. And the dissemination of information is more manipulated today than at any time in history. Sometimes for positive reasons, sometimes not.

‘Journalists’ who put their hand on their heart and proclaim their independence are dangerously out of touch with reality. We are all influenced and influencers. It’s accepting this, and doing something with it, that counts.

I knew an editor whose catchphrase when dealing with moaning members of the public was: “I’m an editor, not a censor”. In other words, being personally responsible for what happened beyond the printed page was not part of his job description. I turned this on its head. It was when I recognised that as an editor I AM a censor that my role as a journalist, as a leader with clout and shared responsibility for the glue holding together our communities, made sense.

When training journalists or speaking to conference audiences, I used to say that the only real difference between a journalist and a couple of neighbours chatting over the garden fence was the journalist’s power to communicate with a mass audience at speed. This is the power to publish – and it is the oxygen of journalism.

Now here’s the critical part of the definition: We only earn the right to call ourselves journalists when we use the power to publish to make a positive difference to the communities we serve.

I will never change my view that this is the beating heart of journalism.

The growth of online communication, and especially social media, means the power to publish no longer lies in the hands of the few, but the many. So now, more than ever, it is the exercise of that power that defines who is – and who is not – a journalist.

Note the word ‘serve’ above – it’s what all journalists must do. No service, no journalist.

Note also the term ‘positive difference’. This doesn’t mean only peddling soft news. It means, for me, supporting the hell out of your community as a principle. But when you come across a person or organisation who is undermining the reputation, sustainable growth or aspiration of your community (however you define that), you use your power to rip their nuts off. That’s when journalism gets personal, and you need your own values -and those you share with your community – set in granite.

For me, then, GOOD journalism is when you accept the responsibility that goes with the power to publish and use it. Perversely, this can result in what some might see as abuses of power – say, if a journalist pursues a radical cause. My brand of journalism copes with that in a democratic context where – so long as a firm line is drawn to prevent threats to public safety or the overt incitement of ridicule, contempt and hatred – a spectrum of views can be assimilated as part of the community debate.

On the other hand, ignoring the power to publish or simply refusing to accept the duty to make a positive difference is BAD journalism. Or, perhaps more accurately by my definition, it isn’t journalism at all.

So, journalists have personal values; they serve – which means they listen; they accept the responsibility that goes with the power to publish; they are leaders, influencers and know they are influenced; they champion participation in a shared communication space; they have enough skills to convey their message safely without major misunderstanding; they see themselves as part of the solution – not the problem. And they make a positive difference.

Money is desirable, of course. But you don’t have to earn a farthing to be a journalist. Or do it every day.

Therefore, bloggers can be outstanding journalists, if they choose to be.

And now’s a great time to prove it.