When discussing the future of media organizations, the conversation often centers around when the last print newspaper will appear and when linear television will succumb to streaming platforms. This can be endlessly debated, as one medium doesn't necessarily have to replace the other. However, when demand for a product or service diminishes or disappears altogether, it can indeed impact operations.

For instance, media houses are grappling with how to survive in a battle where pressure comes from multiple directions simultaneously. On one hand, local advertising money is flowing into the coffers of social media giants, and on the other, those same giants are increasingly proclaiming that they, too, are now journalism.

Take Elon Musk, for example, who has recently been openly declaring that his platform, X (formerly Twitter), is the "new media" where information flows the fastest, and traditional editorial offices, photographers and journalists are no longer necessary. Every user automatically becomes a journalist when they find themselves at the center of a news event, grab their phone, take a picture or record a video and upload it to the platform with a caption.

A few years ago, these same websites regarded themselves merely as technology companies offering a technical podium and claimed no responsibility for user-generated content. Now, however, this perspective is shifting, albeit along a fairly predictable path. Just as Bolt and Uber have gradually become ordinary taxi apps, the initial idea of ridesharing has conveniently evolved into a traditional service model.

Media evolution a la Musk

Elon Musk's daily proclamations on the X platform are worth noting, as he preaches the imminent demise of traditional media and announces the dawn of a "true era of citizen journalism."

Musk has made no secret of his plans to deploy artificial intelligence on the X platform to create news. The AI would collect fragments of information from people on the scene of newsworthy events and from subject matter experts, synthesizing it into a unified information stream, which Musk claims would be far superior to traditional journalism. "This is exactly how news should be made – by people, for people," Musk asserts. He has previously encouraged all platform users to share their lives, feelings and surrounding events, summarizing his message in a simplistic tweet: "You are the media now!"

Musk also shares satirical images suggesting that traditional media is merely a propaganda machine serving the goals of its "masters." One such image references the U.S. presidential election, during which most major media outlets highlighted threats to democracy. Musk adds a pensive emoji (a head resting on a hand) and comments: "Strange how the traditional 'mainstream media' always tells the same story at the same time."

Musk's jab is understandable, as major U.S. media outlets indeed tended to lean toward the Democratic presidential candidate in their coverage. However, even when accounting for Musk's support of Donald Trump and the results of the 2024 election, this does not fully explain the challenges U.S. television news channels faced even before the election: declining viewership.

For example, comparing CNN's election night coverage in 2020 and 2024 reveals a staggering 44 percent drop in viewership over four years. The only network to increase its audience after the 2024 election was Fox News, which saw a 24 percent growth in viewership, while CNN lost 39 percent and MSNBC 52 percent of their audiences.

This could be explained by the political leanings of the losing networks' audiences, as Trump supporters consolidated around the one television channel that most aligned with their worldview. However, such a significant loss of viewers suggests broader changes in the television landscape.

Returning to Musk's claim that "people are the media," the issue is not solely about a media revolution initiated by a billionaire but also about journalism's own internal evolution. Media organizations must adapt to trends and integrate those who feel uncertain about traditional media consumption.

When readers gather all their information from their Facebook feed or X posts without accessing (paid) media content, their position weakens. Not only is misinformation amplified on social media, but there is also an assumption that information recorded by an individual is of the same quality as that provided by a traditional news outlet.

This assumption is flawed because journalism serves the public interest – a role that individuals typically lack. Media organizations also have the networks and tools needed to perform their work, which ordinary people often do not. Additionally, media outlets can offer legal protections to their sources, which are guaranteed by law.

While an individual may meet criteria for objectivity, they are under no obligation to follow the norms set for media representatives, such as those outlined in Estonia's Code of Ethics for Journalism. We cannot know, nor can we verify, the purpose of a social media post or whose interests it serves.

Why does what happens in the U.S. matter for Estonia? These trends eventually reach us, and it's wise to be prepared. However, Musk's idea of people as media does not necessarily have to develop in parallel, as it is not a true conflict. The greatest value arises when a person shares a piece of information, and journalists pick it up, applying the professional skills they have learned and tested in practice. By doing so, media organizations transform into unique verification centers, giving news a quality stamp not found in the general noise of the information flow.

In the broadest sense, this is about building a relationship of trust between the reader and the publication, as readers often lack the time or expertise to engage in fact-checking themselves. And, of course, it is incredibly convenient for someone else to do this work for them – even if it requires spending money and signing up for a digital subscription.

Infodemic and fact-checking

On the other hand, citizen or grassroots journalism is not a new phenomenon. In the past, such contributors were simply called correspondents, entertaining readers with stories from their local surroundings. This arrangement was convenient for newspaper editors who couldn't be everywhere at once and could fill pages for free. At times, the publication of these letters even helped resolve issues that might have seemed marginal from afar but were genuinely important to the correspondent and their local community.

Naturally, the role of correspondents has changed significantly. In the past, the appearance of their pieces depended on the editor's sensitive moral filter, but today's digital platforms have discarded such gatekeeping. Write what you want, as much as you want and wherever you want, with little to no accountability. Problems arise when misinformation spreads uncontrollably or is disseminated by seemingly credible individuals.

Ironically, this kind of grassroots journalism creates more work for traditional media. For example, media outlets now employ fact-checkers whose sole job is to verify information. At Delfi, there is a dedicated investigative and fact-checking team with three reporters specializing in fact-checking and debunking misinformation. The irony lies in the fact that journalism's fundamental task has always been to publish news whose accuracy has been verified beforehand.

If we've reached the point where daily efforts are required to refute misinformation circulating on social media, this highlights a crucial value that media can offer: the assurance of verified information. A news story stamped "fact-checked!" carries a trustworthiness that unfiltered content lacks. How media organizations build the most effective systems for this is a matter of ingenuity, as it's essentially an evolution of a principle that has worked for decades. Trust has always been the product being sold, as seen in CNN's tagline: "The most trusted name in news."

Understandably, readers assume that such claims of trustworthiness hold substance and can somehow be measured. Even in Estonia, we have websites that advertise themselves as objective news outlets but actually spread misinformation. Similarly, there are conspiracy websites presenting themselves as transparent media, yet they sow significant confusion in times of crisis when people searching for vital information stumble upon them.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, the World Health Organization introduced the term "infodemic" to describe a situation where the sheer volume of information makes it impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood.

Today, it's no longer a significant feat to package misinformation in a highly convincing form. Using artificial intelligence, it's possible to create videos of well-known individuals saying things they've never actually said, and hundreds of thousands of people will believe it. "But they said it!" they'll insist.

Infodemics can be deadly. Alongside blatant fakes, there are also "scientific studies" with no real connection to science, which are often cited as sources. If decisions are made based on such misinformation, reversing them becomes exceedingly difficult. Understandably, navigating such an information jungle can make it hard to stay mentally grounded. Social media algorithms exacerbate the problem: if you happen to research a pseudoscientific therapy once, your phone quickly fills with similar content. Foolishness breeds more foolishness.

When propaganda makes a push for the prime time

The situation takes a troubling turn when politicians with specific agendas begin producing media-like programs or posting articles on social media that contain misinformation, are misleading or simply malicious or foolish.

"People are tired of mass media acting as a one-sided propaganda machine, and there is a yearning for genuine journalism that listens to both sides and invites people to think and draw their own conclusions," says Riigikogu member Varro Vooglaid. He shares on social media, without hesitation, an interview conducted by Tucker Carlson with Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov. "This man demonstrates what real journalism should fearlessly tackle in critical times, regardless of political pressure," Vooglaid writes.

Without delving into the underlying narrative Vooglaid is advancing, the parliamentarian is treading on very thin ice. Vooglaid is skilled with words, which may give the impression that he understands what constitutes "real journalism" and can distinguish it from hostile influence operations and war propaganda, which are prohibited.

However, a closer examination of Vooglaid's statements reveals that he is not discussing journalistic values in the academic sense familiar to us. Instead, he is imposing additional criteria that cannot exist within the framework of traditional media.

What Vooglaid refers to as a "one-sided propaganda machine" is, in fact, the interpretation of democracy and sovereignty developed by media organizations with decades of established ethical guidelines. Meanwhile, what Vooglaid views as "journalistic courage" in Carlson's approach would receive a very different evaluation within our moral framework. The interview-like conversation between Lavrov and Carlson is not a true interview but a staged performance disconnected from reality.

If this creates confusion for the audience, it is worth clarifying: in the case of contentious material, it is indeed important to give both sides a voice. However, it is equally crucial to identify who these sides are, the positions they represent and their motivations.

Lavrov's goal is not to shed light on the underlying motivations of Russia's imperialist ambitions but to justify criminal actions. Naturally, such spectacles are rife with false claims, distortions and – most egregiously – Carlson does not challenge Lavrov's assertions during the interview. This allows Russian propaganda narratives to spread unfiltered.

Here are some examples: Lavrov tells Carlson that Ukraine's government is illegitimate due to an alleged coup ten years ago. He repeats the false claim that Ukraine has committed genocide against Russian-speaking residents. He states that Ukraine has banned the use of the Russian language. Lavrov also casts doubt on the Bucha massacre, dismissing the evidence as fabricated.

All these falsehoods were disseminated because Carlson gave Lavrov a platform and failed to challenge his claims. Even worse, Carlson himself reinforces one of Lavrov's claims, suggesting that U.S. military personnel are directly engaged in the conflict, firing Western long-range rockets into Russian territory.

This, according to Vooglaid, represents "real journalism." In his view, this is journalism that supposedly "does not succumb to dictatorial pressure to avoid speaking with Russia's top politicians." Vooglaid is so enamored with Carlson's interview with Lavrov that he creates a separate podcast to discuss it, enthusiastically asserting that while he may not agree with Lavrov, the Russian minister's class is so exceptional that he is a pleasure to watch.

Forgive me, but in a democratic value system, there is only one place where Lavrov should be given such a platform, and where his presence might genuinely be considered "enjoyable." But it's not in front of Carlson's camera in Moscow – it's in The Hague. And there, the questions would not come from someone masquerading as a journalist but from judges administering justice.

Vooglaid's example is significant in the context of media and technological development, as he has created an autonomous communication channel for his followers, independent of the choices made by traditional media. He has built a channel with its own value system and political objectives, regularly producing content, appearing with his own name and face and doing so at a sufficiently professional level that an average consumer with limited critical thinking skills may fail to recognize the dangers.

If this is treated merely as ongoing reporting to his constituents, then so be it – "let the liberals gasp." However, when this content is presented as journalistic in nature, those with poor analytical skills may adopt attitudes based on flawed premises.

A counterweight to this could be the cultivation of media literacy and the ability to navigate public information spaces. I agree with Delfi and Eesti Päevaleht Editor-in-Chief Urmo Soonvald, who, on Delfi's 25th anniversary, called for the inclusion of media literacy in the high school curriculum. Perhaps, though, it should start even earlier, as anyone who picks up a smartphone is already exposed to misinformation. Such an initiative must be systematic, emphasizing the importance of source criticism and fostering general critical thinking skills.

Where do people read news?

It is crucial to act now, as the digital transformation of publications is irreversible. News consumption is a growing trend, largely because people now access it through digital devices, primarily smartphones. It is therefore understandable that media houses are fiercely competing for digital subscribers, and over time, it becomes increasingly easier to explain that online content comes at a cost.

For example, The New York Times demonstrates a clear trend favoring digital subscriptions over print editions: 10.5 million digital subscriptions compared to 296,329 print subscribers. The publication also boasts over two million readers outside the U.S. In 2023, The New York Times generated over $1 billion in revenue from digital subscriptions alone. This marks the largest number of digital subscribers among U.S. newspapers, with owners setting an ambitious goal to reach 15 million digital subscribers by 2027.

In comparison, The Wall Street Journal, another leading U.S. newspaper, had 4.3 million digital subscribers as of August 2024. Similarly, in Estonia, all major publications have seen a significant increase in digital subscriptions since 2020. Readers are interested, but work must continue to maintain and enhance the value that drives subscription-based journalism.

Digital content attracts audiences like flies to honey. It's no longer surprising to see first-year journalism students scrolling through TikTok out of boredom during Marju Lauristin's lectures or meeting participants glued to their computer screens during important discussions.

We are seemingly present, yet simultaneously engaged on multiple levels. One eye reads news from the virtual space while the other tries to absorb information from the surrounding environment. Such multitasking does not favor the objectives of university lectures or meetings, but it is the reality.

People crave news and entertainment and are increasingly willing to pay for it – even young people. The notion that young people don't read news is a widespread misconception. According to a Newswork study, 90 percent of 15-29-year-olds read news online, consuming an average of six articles per day. Among young people, news consumption ranks third after organizing daily life and using social media.

However, the sources young people consider news channels deserve attention. For instance, TikTok is increasingly used as a news source, particularly among 18-24-year-olds, 23 percent of whom use the platform for this purpose. In such cases, it's not uncommon for an influential TikToker to comment on an ERR or Delfi news piece, distorting the original message. Media houses should therefore consider how to extend their "fact-checked!" stamp to places where traditional news has not yet reached.

I believe it is premature to declare the death of traditional journalism, as Elon Musk does on his X platform. Journalism remains a vital filter, but its continued value hinges on media organizations maintaining professionalism and effectively leveraging their expertise.

According to the latest data, 72 percent of Estonians trust ERR, which is 8 percentage points higher than the average trust in Estonian institutions (64 percent). This is a strong indicator, but it does not mean that efforts to maintain this trust can be relaxed.

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