In a surprise to absolutely no one with a functioning cerebral cortex, global trust in news media has plummeted to depths previously only plumbed by the Titanic. The latest Reuters Institute digital news report reveals that only 40% of people trust most news most of the time, down from a vaguely plausible 44% in the halcyon days of yore. But fear not, dear reader, for the report has identified a shining lighthouse on this desolate coast of liars and fabulists: British journalism.
Yes, you read that correctly. The very nation that brought you the Daily Mail, the Brexit bus, and journalists who file expenses for duck houses is apparently considered by the report's authors to be a 'beacon of integrity.' The report claims that BBC News and the Financial Times have bucked the global trend, with trust levels holding steady at around 75%.
This is, of course, entirely plausible, provided you ignore the BBC's editorial gymnastics over the last decade, which would make an Olympic gold medallist weep into their lycra. Let us examine this 'beacon' more closely. British journalism, according to the report, maintains high standards due to 'strong regulatory frameworks' and 'a tradition of impartiality.
' One can only assume the authors were working from a parallel universe where the Leveson Inquiry was a resounding success, where phone hacking was a myth perpetrated by those dastardly Labourites, and where partisan newspapers churn out unbiased, verifiable facts like a well-oiled machine. In this same universe, perhaps pigs fly and the trains run on time. The truth is, of course, considerably less flattering.
British journalism's resilience can be attributed to a simple factor: inertia. The British public, wearied by centuries of being told what to think by a posh man in a bowler hat, have simply stopped questioning the source. They consume their news like a lukewarm cup of tea, without enthusiasm but with the grim resignation that it's all that's on offer.
Meanwhile, in the real world, local journalism is haemorrhaging money faster than the government spends on strawberry-flavoured PPE. The 'beacon' is less a lighthouse and more a flickering candle in a haunted house, threatening to go out at any moment. The report's findings are a convenient fiction for those in power.
If British journalism is a 'beacon', then perhaps we can all sleep soundly, secure in the knowledge that someone, somewhere, is holding the powerful to account. But as the sun sets on Fleet Street and the digital titans tighten their grip, one must wonder: how long before even this symbol of integrity succumbs to the all-consuming appetite of clickbait and corporate propaganda? In the meantime, I shall be raising a glass of gin (Gordons, naturally) to the brave souls at the BBC who still believe in due impartiality.
And to the rest? Well, as the great Peter Cook once said, 'I have always been a believer in the free press. But as a member of the press, I've always believed in being paid.
