XCity 2025 magazine, for journalism alumni at City St George's, University of London

+ NICKY CAMPBELL + AFUA HIRSCH + JOSH WIDDICOMBE

THE PELICOT FILES

The inside story of France’s trial of the century

You wouldn’t ask a man that

TURNING TABLES ON MALE JOURNOS

Marina

“Did I really say that?” is appalled. Or is she? Hyde

M

When I was asked why I wanted to be editor of XCity, I knew I wanted to be involved in the creation of a magazine that captures the diverse interests and talents of its writers. The result is a magazine that delves deep into stories – from fashion, to politics, to photojournalism – and reflects the insightful reporting of a cohort dedicated to carving out their own voice in a broad and colourful industry. However, I, like my peers, can sometimes find myself suiting my voice to fit what I think people want to hear, rather than having the confidence to always speak my own mind. With this in mind, we look to seasoned journalists for inspiration on how to navigate this predicament.

Our cover star, Marina Hyde, exemplifies this with her incisive satirical commentary. She reminds us, as young journalists, that while authenticity is crucial, we must not shy away from making our voices heard, and also not fear how they will be received (p.84).

Finding this voice can be challenging in an industry that continuously faces pressures to write without fear of restriction. Trump’s latest executive order to dismantle the federally funded Voice of America casts a dark cloud over the future of press freedom (p.44), and the recent resignation of Ann Telnaes, former cartoonist for The Washington Post, raises concerns regarding the role of political satire in publications owned by billionaires (p.46). The continued need for sharp, balanced political commentary is more important than ever, as echoed by Lewis Goodall (p.103) and by the persistent effort to voice the realities faced in Ukraine by Olga Rudenko, whilst witnessing her work crumble before her eyes as Trump redefines his worldview, should be acknowledged and duly praised (p.26).

The sacrifices made by those who fight to document truth in the face of conflict must be commemorated. We recognise the perseverance and bravery of citizen journalists in Gaza (p.61) and Sudan (p.128) who have remained dutiful in their commitment to report in conflict zones,

which has led to many lives lost in the process. We remain acutely aware of the responsibility we have to continue to support and raise up the voices of those who risk their lives to share truth with the world.

While there are many positives within the media, we still must use our platform to look inwards at our internal biases. From a lack of Muslim voices in fashion journalism (p.75) to frustrations felt by disabled journalists facing accessibility issues (p.116), we must remain vigilant in both reporting and questioning the industry itself. Afua Hirsch echoes this sentiment and stresses the need to think laterally, using unconventional means to reach wider audiences (p.34).

This year also marks significant milestones that highlight success in the magazine industry. The iconic New Yorker celebrates its centenary (p.66), the leading UK men’s magazine Men’s Health turns 30 (p.108), and the feminist punk zine Polyester reaches its 10th anniversary (p.32), each a testament to the enduring impact of print and digital media – a legacy we ourselves are excited to contribute to.

I am very proud of everything achieved by us all during production fortnight, and we have created a magazine that captures the great writing talent of this cohort. While InDesign may have felt like an alien concept to us in January, the past two weeks struggling together to figure things out has led to the creation of a fantastically visual publication, one that we will all look back on with pride.

Contributors

Hattie Birchinall, Flore Boitel, Vipin Chimrani, Isabel Dempsey, Hebe Hancock, Phoebe Hennell, Lara Iqbal Gilling, Lucy Keitley, Mallory Legg, Anna Mahtani, Yasmine Medjdoub, Declan Ryder, Orla Sheridan, Maria Vieira, Emily Warner, and Eliza Winter.

With special thanks to our creative consultant William Jack, our cartoonist Ian Baker, and to our printers Sterling Solutions.

Cover image by Suki Dhanda.

For any queries, please email Ben Falk at ben.falk@citystgeorges.ac.uk

@xcitymagazine

Alice Lambert, Editor

JOSH WIDDICOMBE

INSIDE WESTMINSTER

MARINA HYDE

MANOSPHERE

EXTREME REPORTING

FLEET STREET TO DOWNING STREET

DAY IN THE LIFE OF GRAZIA’S EDITOR

BRAZILIAN DICTATORSHIP

LEWIS GOODALL

WE’RE NOT GONNA RETIRE

30 YEARS OF MEN’S HEALTH

WHAT’S REPLACING TWITTER?

ETHICS OF PERSONAL ESSAYS

JOURNALISTS DRAWN BY AI

LETTERBOXD FOUR

ACCESSIBILITY DENIED

AN ODE TO MAGAZINE FREEBIES

GEMMA CAIRNEY

DRAWING THE SHORT STRAW

THE BIRMINGHAM SIX

DIGITAL NOMADS

REPORTING ON SUDAN

YOUSRA ELBAGIR

WHAT PUBLICATION ARE YOU?

UN launches project to combat violence against women

Anew United Nations (UN) project will study the phenomenon of online violence against women human rights defenders (WHRDs).

Dr Julie Posetti, Professor of Journalism at City St George’s, was part of initial discussions this March, at the annual Commission on the Status of Women in New York.

The new project brings together women editors and journalists, international human rights lawyer Caoilfhionn Gallagher, and representatives from UNESCO, the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE), the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), and Reporters Without Borders.

The UN greenlit the project following Dr Posetti’s work on the UNESCO research paper “The Chilling”, which revealed alarming levels of online violence targeting women journalists globally. Published in 2020, “The Chilling” surveyed over 700 women journalists and analysed over 2.5 million social media posts in 15 countries.

Dr Posetti said: “It’s work that looks at the trajectory from digital threats to offline harm. [It understands] online violence as a problem which is leading to potential physical consequences, alongside psychological injury.”

“The Chilling” has caused a significant shift in action against addressing the issues of online violence. Dr Posetti said: “Never in my career as a journalist or an academic have I experienced this kind of impact.”

The survey results of the new UN project for WHRDs will be published in

March 2026, coinciding with International Women’s Day. Some data insights will be revealed before this date.

Since 2021, as part of the reaction to “The Chilling”, a new “online violence alert and response” system has been developed through funding from the Foreign Office and Luminate, a philanthropic organisation. It uses a partly AI-enabled system to analyse social media posts attacking women journalists.

Dr Posetti explained: “It is a system built with a human rights core. The system has identified 15 indicators for the escalation of online violence against

To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Department of Journalism at City St George’s in 2026, we need YOU.

For the “City Gold Nuggets” initiative, alumni are encouraged to nominate outstanding stories that originated from City St George’s alumni. The selected pieces will be showcased in a special celebratory event.

A panel of experts will select 50 standout stories, which will then be put to a public vote to determine a final shortlist. The selected journalists will collaborate with current students to create profiles, films, and podcasts celebrating their work.

Head of Podcasting, Sandy Warr, is

women journalists, which are baked into the detection algorithms.” If funding becomes available, the UN project hopes to create a similar system to detect online violence aimed at WHRDs.

Dr Posetti noted the importance of her work in helping women in danger outside the world of journalism.

“This work has ultimately allowed us to see women journalists as proxies for [other] women in public life being targeted in online contexts, as a way of trying to shut them down, shut them up.”

By Alice Lambert

among those spearheading the project. Ms Warr said: “I have been [part of the Department of Journalism at] City St George’s for just over half of these 50 years, and it is an immensely proud moment when I read a headline or see a news story reported by a former student.

“This anniversary is an opportunity to reflect on our legacy and reaffirm our commitment to the next 50 years.”

To participate, alumni are encouraged to submit a short summary of their nominated story, along with their contact details, to Sandy.Warr.1@citystgeorges.ac.uk, using the subject line “50 at 50”.

By Hannah Bentley

Dr Posetti speaking at a festival in 2023

Meet the new department chief

Glenda Cooper joined City St George’s as the new Head of the Department of Journalism in September 2024. However, she is not a stranger to the university. Dr Cooper completed a postgraduate diploma in Newspaper Journalism in 1994 and a PhD in Journalism in 2016, both at City St George’s.

When asked what had motivated her to make this career shift, she said “who wouldn’t?

“To have responsibility for a department, to think about what we should be teaching, and to talk to so many journalists is an incredible privilege.”

Dr Cooper was previously a senior staff writer and editor at The Independent, Daily Mail, The Sunday Times, and The Daily Telegraph, and a health reporter for BBC News.

Now that she has returned to City St George’s, she has revealed some of her favourite things.

Favourite local restaurant:

“Santoré, an Italian restaurant. I’m an Exmouth Market devotee. If you’re a student who hasn’t got much money, and you want to eat a lot of food, then go to Santoré.”

Favourite book:

“Rivals by Jilly Cooper.”

Favourite thing about her new office:

“I love the natural light, and I walk out my door and I see students everywhere, so you really feel like you’re part of the community.”

Favourite thing about City St George’s:

“It’s really cheesy, but it’s the staff and the students. [There are] such amazing staff here with a wide variety of experience and [they’re] just really nice people.”

By Tiago Ventura and Hannah Bentley

All courses to be embedded with AI

The

Head of the Department of Journalism reveals major course changes to

meet

industry demands and embed AI skills into teaching

By Tiago Ventura and Hannah Bentley

All journalism MAs and pathways will have AI skills embedded into their courses under proposals being considered by the department.

A separate enhanced AI news reporting module is also being considered for postgraduate students at City St George’s after implementing a successful module with third year undergraduates.

Dr Glenda Cooper, the new Head of the Journalism Department, said: “We are planning to make that part of the PGT [Postgraduate Taught] studies and embed AI across all degrees.”

She added: “It’s clear that AI is part of the tool kit for journalists. It’s about students using it responsibly and where it’s to their advantage. At the same time keeping to the high ethical standards City, St George’s is famed for.”

This represents a shift in the department towards further enhancing journalist’s ability to use AI to refine their journalism and aim to keep pace with the rapid progression of the media landscape.

“AI is not going away. What I think is really important for us as journalists is to see where it can be used as a tool and where it shouldn’t be,” said Dr Cooper.

Dr Cooper likens these rapid digital transformations to what past journalists saw occurring around them when other technological developments happened.

“I’m sure when telephones came in, people said that was cheating. When the web came in, people wedded to cutting libraries said, ‘You shouldn’t look online.’ Now, all of these can be tools. It’s just where do you draw the line? And that’s something we need to think about.”

Yet, the Head of Department remains optimistic that artificial intelligence cannot match journalistic ability. She said: “Journalism is about telling a story accurately. It’s about going to sources and finding out information. It’s about resilience and teamwork, and ChatGPT cannot do that.”

Looking at the future, Dr Cooper believes there is a significant appetite for not only other forms of journalism, but also a return to local journalism.

“Local journalism is one of the most important journalisms you can do. We see what happens when local journalism doesn’t happen – the classic case is Grenfell. There hadn’t been enough local journalism for the concerns raised before that tragedy happened.”

To keep pace with industry trends, the department is also considering introducing a newsletter elective, recognising its rapid growth within independent journalism.

Dr Cooper said: “Recently, people on Substack are creating small local outlets, either as newsletters or blogs. So there is an appetite for what’s going on locally.”

Dr Glenda Cooper in her new office at City St George’s

Photo: Kathryn Vann

History got Clinton and Yeltsin

“wrong”,

The current conflict between Russia and the west had its origins in the 1990s with the breakdown of relations between Presidents Bill Clinton and Boris Yeltsin, according to a new book by City St George’s lecturer Dr James Rodgers.

The Return of Russia: From Yeltsin to Putin, the Story of a Vengeful Kremlin, due to be published later this year, charts the relationship between Russia and the west since the end of the cold war and asks an essential question: how did we get here?

says new book

The Return of Russia refers to a range of issues which arose in the 1990s: western policy on the former Yugoslavia, NATO enlargement, the failure of democracy, and the rise of the free market economy. Rodgers concludes that, by the end of the decade, renewed conflict was inevitable.

Since Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine, tens of thousands of people have been killed. Dr Rodgers said: “There’s a tendency to see the 1990s as a time when relations were warm – Yeltsin and Clinton got on so well that people called it the

“Bill and Boris Show”. Actually, I think that’s where the relationship went wrong.” He pitched his idea for The Return of Russia in January 2022, and had to revise the proposal to reflect Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February of that year. He interviewed two NATO secretary generals for the book, as well as Russian advisors to both Downing Street and the White House.

During his two decades as an international journalist, Dr Rodgers has reported on the fall of the Soviet Union, the wars in Chechnya, and Putin’s meteoric rise to power. He has been stationed in Moscow, Brussels, and Gaza as a foreign correspondent with the BBC.

Rodgers added: “Journalism is the first draft of history.”

By Emily Warner

Critics feeling the criticism

Arts and culture critics fear giving opinions due to online trolling, according to a City St George’s lecturer. Social media has expanded access to arts criticism, but has also made professional reviewing riskier.

Kat Lister, the tutor for the Arts and Culture elective, said: “Critics can feel anxious about being trolled online after a review. I didn’t have to think about that when I started in journalism.”

Despite the democratisation of arts criticism, the notion that reviewing is reserved for an exclusive few persists. Ms Lister, a freelance arts and lifestyle writer, sees this hesitation in her students.

“We aim to break things down so the industry is less intimidating,” she said.

The course blends academic understanding with practical skills, such as

navigating relationships with editors and publicists. The curriculum evolves each year, with pitching identified as a recurring source of student anxiety.

“I focus quite a bit on that, but each year is fluid,” said Ms Lister. “We aim to build confidence in writing without losing the passion for culture.”

Students gain hands-on experience through an annual field trip. This year, they reviewed Citra Sasmita’s Into Eternal Land at the Barbican.

Ms Lister said: “I pick an exhibition where there’s a lot to tap into. It’s an opportunity to put everything into practice and build confidence.”

Students’ enthusiasm for the elective remains strong, as it had to expand to two classes this year.

By Romy Journee

President Bill Clinton (left) with Russian President Yeltsin (right) at a 1994 joint press conference in Moscow

Kat Lister, a lecturer at City St George’s

Photos provided by AP and Sophia Spring

Student set to climb Mount Everest for MA final project

Abandoning the safety of her desk, Naomi George is hiking to Everest Base Camp to film footage for her final project

By Isabel Dempsey

Student journalists are often unwilling to pick up the phone or stop someone in the street, preferring the safety of an email or social media DM.

So, it may come as a surprise that Broadcast MA student Naomi George is travelling to Nepal for her final project, where she will hike around 80 miles to Everest Base Camp.

While she doesn’t yet know the exact details of her project, Ms George, 31, is “a bit of an adrenaline junkie” and “intrigued” by what a day walking on the world’s highest peak looks like.

She said: “More and more people are climbing [Everest] every year. I’ve seen YouTube clips of people queuing to get the picture at the top. It’s wild.

“I’m so excited to hear the stories of other people on the trek [and to] share that journey with others who have their own ‘why’ for being there.”

Ms George will leave the UK on 6 April. Her trek will last two weeks, with an average daily distance of eight miles.

She said: “It doesn’t sound far, but it’s very steep. It feels more like 12 miles because of the altitude. I think [the altitude] is my biggest anxiety because you can’t really prepare your body for that.”

Ms George has organised a strict training schedule in preparation for these harsh conditions: “I’ve been hitting the gym five, six days a week, [doing] work on the Stairmaster, lunges, [and] squats to

prepare my body for those steep ascents.

“In London it’s quite hard to prepare. There’s no mountains to march up.”

Ms George grew up on a farm in Wales and has been hiking since she was a child. To prepare for the altitude, she will do a few climbs in Wales before the trip. She said: “This has been a lifelong dream. I like things that test your limits.”

She travelled to Nepal in 2017, around the time when British student Charlotte Fullerton was killed by a landslide in the country’s Mustang region. “I remember my mum calling me up and saying ‘You’re not going up any mountains’.”

When Ms George’s now-husband asked

Former MP is subject of new slavery book

An investigative journalist and senior lecturer at City St George’s has turned his research on former Conservative MP Richard Drax’s ancestral links to slavery into a new book.

Dr Paul Lashmar’s Drax of Drax Hall, which was released on 20 March, explores the history of the Drax dynasty and its connections to the transatlantic slave trade.

The ancestral Drax family built a

fortune through the enslavement of Africans on sugar plantations. Richard Drax inherited the Drax Hall plantation in Saint George, Barbados in 2017.

Dr Lashmar said: “Pretending that slavery is in the distant past and has no consequences in the present is foolish.

“Despite pressure from reparation campaigners, Richard Drax has stood firm in refusing to make a public apology or gesture of recompense to Barbados.”

By Phoebe Hennell

her on Hinge what she would do with a hypothetical lottery win, she responded with ideas which included an Everest Base Camp trek. Five years later, this trip is doubling as their honeymoon.

The next big hurdle for Ms George is the risk assessment element of her final project, which may impede her from going. Joe Michalczuk, director of the Broadcast MA, said he was “excited but also slightly daunted” by this assessment.

“Few students push it as far as Naomi, but I’m looking forward to seeing her progress, and I’m confident we’ll see a City St George’s flag planted on Everest in a couple of months’ time.”

Naomi George, an enthusiastic hiker, in the Atlas Mountains Hardcover

Peasant pub mystery persists

Mystery surrounds the future of The Peasant, once a pub popular with journalism staff and students.

The pub, formerly The George and Dragon, closed in May 2023. It was cleared of squatters after a possession claim was filed with the Central London County Court the following year.

According to an employee at neighbouring architecture business Cartlidge Levene, there has been no sign of the squatters since the end of last year.

Feminist stories of the wild

The lives of five pioneering women, who defied societal norms to engage with and protect the natural world, are the subject of a new book by a journalism lecturer at City St George’s.

Wildly Different: How Five Women Reclaimed Nature in a Man’s World by Sarah Lonsdale draws on extensive research and interviews, including with Sir David Attenborough and Wangarĩ Maathai’s daughter, to bring these women’s stories to life.

The book, Dr Lonsdale’s third, will be released by Manchester University Press on 4 March. Wildly Different highlights the struggles women have historically faced in accessing wild spaces, and their impact on conservation.

By Hannah Bentley

“There was one occasion where there was a load of furniture on the side of the street. They’d obviously been turned out and now they’ve got all the shutters up.”

The pub is now completely boarded up, with metal barriers in each window obscuring the view inside, and all entrances blocked.

The Peasant was built around 1890 on the site of an earlier pub, with some modifications made in the late 20th century. Its interiors featured a mosaic

floor and a pipe system around the bar, used to warm patrons’ feet in winter.

The Peasant has long been a popular boozer among the City St George’s community. Jason Bennetto, who graduated with a diploma from the Department of Journalism in 1987 and now lectures for the department, said: “It had a great atmosphere, I remember evenings as a student, we would prop up the bar and get sloshed. I hope it re-opens, as it’s part of the department’s history.”

By Hanna McNeila and Lucy Keitley

Spanish language used to attract Latin American students

An Emmy Award-winning lecturer’s Spanish skills have been key in a new initiative to increase postgraduate journalism applications from Latin America.

Last November, a recruitment talk for City St George’s was conducted in Spanish for the first time. The talk was given by broadcast lecturer Fernando Pizarro, in collaboration with his alma mater, the Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, as well as the Universidad del Desarrollo in Chile, and the Universidad Panamericana in Mexico.

Mr Pizarro said: “I proposed we did it in Spanish, to make it more attractive and so that the potential students would feel more comfortable asking questions.

“We just tested the waters with three universities, I intend that to grow this year.”

A former Washington correspondent, Mr Pizarro has worked as senior editor for The New York Times and NPR. He began

teaching at City St Georges in 2022. This was the second scheme aimed at encouraging students from the American continent to apply to City St George’s. In a separate initiative, nearly 50 universities in the United States and Canada were contacted by Mr Pizarro.

Mr Pizarro said: “The Department of Journalism is always very interested in recruiting [students from abroad].”

Latin American students have traditionally looked at Europe as a prime location for studying abroad. This initiative attempts to encourage them to consider City St George’s.

Mr Pizarro said: “They look at Spain for the obvious reason of language, and Spain also has very good journalism graduate schools. But I also know that many students in Latin America look at London as a great place to come and study.”

By Marissa Goursard

provided by Kathryn Vann

Photo

The Peasant Pub has been boarded up for nearly two years

Remembering Peter Gould

The “kind, generous, and loyal” City St George’s lecturer is remembered following his death at the age of 77

By Declan Ryder

Peter Gould, a much respected City St George’s lecturer and former BBC reporter, was described as ‘kind, generous and loyal’ following his death at the age of 77.

Mr Gould, who died from an undiagnosed heart condition on 11 February, built a broadcast career in commercial radio and as a news correspondent at the BBC. Following his retirement from City St George’s in 2019,

he co-founded the Ealing Film Festival, which showcases emerging film-making talent, the following year.

His journalism career spanned nearly four decades, in which time he covered events at home and abroad, from the hunger strikes in Northern Ireland and the Hungerford massacre to the Gulf war and aftermath of 9/11.

Mr Gould taught broadcast modules on the International Journalism MA at City St George’s between 2009 and 2019. Dr Zahera Harb, director of postgraduate studies, said: “Students loved him because he cared. He always made them feel good about the work they were producing.”

His wife, Julie Hadwin, who also teaches journalism at City St George’s, said: “He just had that curiosity about stories and people. He loved the excitement of it. He was one of these people who seemed able to become increasingly calm in relation to the general chaos and panic that was going on around him.”

Mr Gould began his career as a newspaper reporter in Stockport, before moving to Bolton and then Liverpool. There he came into contact with Nick Pollard, as part of a group of young journalists launching the Radio City station in Liverpool.

Mr Pollard, the former head of Sky News, said: “He was a smart, persistent and stylish reporter who got the story by quiet persuasion rather than shouting the odds. In a notoriously cut-throat and unsentimental

business, Peter was a model of kindness, generosity and loyalty. In all the different newsrooms I worked in, I never heard anyone say a bad word about him. He was pretty much unique in that respect.”

Paul Davies OBE, a veteran ITN journalist who also worked alongside Mr Gould at Radio City, echoed Mr Pollard’s thoughts. He said: “He was a great journalist and an even nicer man.”

Outside of journalism, Mr Gould enjoyed writing plays, holding a master’s degree in writing for screen and stage, and studying theatre directing at the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. Ms Hadwin said: “He really enjoyed being able to take what he had learnt as a reporter and then use it in more creative ways with the plays that he wrote. I think he was a born writer.”

He was also a self-professed steam train enthusiast, and an avid photographer.

“He had many interests throughout his life. He would immerse himself in each one, researching until he became really knowledgeable,” said Ms Hadwin.

He had a knack for passing on his interests to his loved ones, having transferred his support for Liverpool FC to the entire family after his time spent as a reporter in the city. Ms Hadwin also noted that their son, Jamie, pursued photography in part because of his father, and their daughter, Ellen, bonded with him over her comedy sketch writing.

In recent years, much of his focus was on the Ealing Film Festival, which he cofounded with Annmarie Flanagan and Alan Granley in 2020, and of which he was the director. “Ealing is originally the home of British cinema and Peter had always felt there should be something that celebrated that fact,” said Ms Hadwin.

Photos provided by Julie Aldwin, Ellen Gould, and

Peter Gould with his wife, Julie Aldwin

UN and City join forces on new podcast series

The UNFPA, the UN’s sexual and reproductive health agency, has partnered with City St George’s Podcasting MA to deliver a five-part podcast series.

The key tenets of women’s equality, from medicine to finance, are at the heart of the podcast series.

BBC veteran and podcasting MA course director, Brett Spencer said: “I was introduced to the Head of Innovation at the UN because they were interested in launching a podcast. As City is the first university to globally offer a dedicated podcasting MA, it was a natural fit.”

Spencer added: “I joke to the students

that I went on holiday to New York and came back with a podcast.”

Students are working on each episode in the series as part of their final portfolio and are responsible for producing, interviewing guests, and editing the podcast.

The news comes as the podcasting MA continues to expand in size. The MA launched in 2023 with only six students, and has since tripled in size.

Graduates have gone to secure jobs at major podcasting studios such as Spotify, Goalhanger, Loftus, and more.

The series will be available later this year on all streaming platforms.

By Clara Taylor

Threat growing for journalists, report says

The “Europe Press Freedom Report 2024: Confronting Political Pressure, Disinformation and the Erosion of Media Independence” was released at the inaugural UK Media Freedom Forum.

The report’s findings highlighted threats to journalists covering the Russia-Ukraine war, the detention of 159 journalists across Europe, and the misuse of legal actions against the press.

The report urged member states of the Council of Europe (CoE), including the UK, to implement reforms that guarantee both media independence and pluralism.

The Safety of Journalists Platform, which conducted the report, have recorded around 2,000 alerts concerning threats to media freedom and journalist safety since its inception in 2015.

Mel Bunce, Professor of International Journalism and Politics at City St George’s, said: “We hope the report pressures European representatives to do more domestically to support journalism. This forum shifted the conversation to underline the urgency of press freedom.”

The forum was organised with City St George’s, University of London, and supported by the CoE’s Safety of Journalists Platform, UNESCO’s Global Media Defence Fund, the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), and law firm RPC.

The event covered strategic

lawsuits against public participation (SLAPPs), transnational repression, economic pressures, misinformation and disinformation, and the impact of artificial intelligence on journalism.

Susan Coughtrie, Director of the Foreign Policy Centre and the UK Anti-SLAPP Co-Chair, said: “With the attacks on press freedom we are witnessing worldwide, this discussion is urgent. Many attendees have faced funding freezes and other pressures targeting independent media.”

New centre for media freedom gathers experts

The Centre for Journalism and Democracy will launch in early September at City St George’s as a benchmark initiative to address threats to media freedom.

Mel Bunce, Professor of International Journalism and Politics, is leading the creation of the Centre, alongside Professor Julie Posetti

The Centre will serve as a bridge between research and real-world media practice, helping academics share critical studies with policymakers and newsrooms

“We have a huge critical mass of amazing scholars working on these issues,” said Prof Bunce. “The goal of the centre is to amplify the research we’re doing and share our insights with editors and journalists to help them stay safe and uphold democracy.”

By Tiago Ventura and Hannah Bentley

The USAID budget cut earlier this year slashed over £216m pledged for independent journalism.

“There are levers we can pull, and practical support we can mobilise — what’s needed now is the political will to act,” Ms Coughtrie said. “Defending media freedom is not just about journalists — it’s about democracy itself.”

By Hannah Bentley and Tiago Ventura

provided by

Photos

Nick Davies labels ITV’s phone-hacking drama as “odd” and “disappointing”

Investigative journalist Nick Davies on ITV’s new drama, as the show sidelines the scandal’s wider implications

By Tiago Ventura

Anew TV drama about the phone hacking scandal has been described by the reporter behind the expose as “disappointing” for failing to focus on the criminality of the journalists.

Nick Davies, the renowned investigative journalist, said The Hack, which stars David Tennant as himself, “really misses the target”.

The seven-hour ITV drama was filmed in 2024 and is due to air later this year. Set between 2002 and 2012, it follows Mr Davies, played by Tennant, as he uncovers the phone-hacking scandal.

This was a collection of stories, written by Mr Davies for The Guardian, about the illegal activities carried out by journalists and private investigators at News of the World to obtain private information from people’s phones.

Mr Davies, who spoke to students at City St George’s about his investigation, said: “I think it’s disappointing because it’s very much focused on me as a character.

“It doesn’t tell you anything about Murdoch or his power, or his journalists or their criminality. It’s a very odd piece of work.”

Between 2009 and 2011, Mr Davies wrote nearly a hundred investigative pieces for The Guardian exposing the phonehacking activities of Rupert Murdoch’s News of the World and the failures of politicians, police, and press regulators to hold Murdoch to account.

Mr Davies said that while he was “consulted” by ITV, he wasn’t given “any kind of control of it”.

“If I had been in charge of a drama about Murdoch, I would show the Murdoch journalists hacking phones, bribing public officials, cheating their sources, and Murdoch’s people in the corridors of power bullying politicians. But this drama is very different.”

Mr Davies’ visit and the drama’s announcement coincided with news of Prince Harry settling with News Group Newspapers (NGN). According to the BBC, NGN has spent over £1 billion on damages and legal costs linked to phonehacking claims against News of the World and The Sun

The lack of nuance in the new series comes at a particularly precarious time for

journalists in the digital age, as Mr Davies highlighted in his talk at City St George’s.

“I think there’s a danger that profit-seeking organisations who own newspapers are going to use AI as a substitute for reporters,” he said.

“Local newspaper reporters are in great jeopardy because they already spend too much time recycling press releases from the Press Association that can easily be done by AI. There is a risk that understaffed newspapers will be stripped of even more staff.”

The veteran reporter highlighted the threat to specialist journalism in an era where “consumers of information treat factual statements like chocolate cookies”.

“[They] like the taste of this factual statement, so [they] decide to believe it, [they’re] not interested in the evidence. That’s a huge problem. But I don’t think it changes the way that we should work or the importance of what we do.”

Despite the pessimistic undertones of the discussion, Mr Davies remained hopeful for the future of journalism.

“I can see another generation of young reporters coming through, some of them working on national titles, who are really good, clever, brave, and energetic. So, it ain’t over yet,” he said.

David Tennant and Toby Jones star in The Hack

Photo by ITV Studios

New module tackles race and class issues

Anew course aimed at reporting stories about culture, identity, and underrepresented communities has been launched at City St George’s. The ten-week elective module ‘Reporting on Identity and Underrepresented Communities’ covers reporting on race, gender, LGBTQ+ communities, class, and disabilities, and began in January 2025. It is run by Suyin Haynes, former Head of Editorial at gal-dem magazine, who joined City St George’s this year as a lecturer.

Open to all postgraduate journalism students, Ms Haynes proposed the module in 2024 after noticing a gap in the curriculum. She said: “When I looked at the list of specialisms, I didn’t see [topics related to identity and underrepresented communities] covered in any of them. And while this module might contradict some of the others, I don’t think that’s bad.”

In the first session of the module, Ms Haynes told her students she strongly believed reporting on identities should not be considered a “niche” topic. She said: “People are now more aware and cognisant of identities, how they shape us, and how they shape the world. It’s because of that growth and public consciousness that these issues need to be explored and reported.”

On why she thinks it took until 2025 for the creation of this course, she said: “I think the combination of broader changes and a demand from students. I noticed while teaching on the Magazine course, questions around how to report these kinds of stories kept coming up.”

The course covers techniques and tools essential to reporting underrepresented stories. Classes include discussions about trauma-informed reporting, co-creational media, and includsive language.

Ms Haynes said: “We have 10 weeks so it’s limited, but it’s about having a taster of what it means to report on identity and underrepresented communities. What that looks like and how that shows up in other aspects of reporting that you might do.”

The course involves interactive elements, with various speakers attending sessions throughout the module. Aamna Mohdin, community affairs correspondent for The Guardian, Vic Parsons, freelance reporter on LGBTQ+ issues, and Lucy Webster, the author of The View from Down Here: Life As a Young Disabled Woman are among this year’s guests. Students also visited the Migration Museum in Lewisham, with a guided tour from one of the directors.

A freelance journalist covering identity, culture, and underrepresented communities, Ms Haynes said she hopes to make the class as enriching as possible. “In putting this module together, I have also been reflecting on my own career – in particular, the mistakes I have made, or what I could have done differently or better in my reporting. Early on in my career, there were times when I recognised bad practice, but felt unable or ill-equipped to be able to challenge it, which was difficult. I hope this module can help prepare and provide students with the tools, techniques

and language to navigate similar issues.

“It’s heartening for me to be able to play a small role in working with students to think about the future and what kind of impact they want to have.”

Students in the module also echo Ms Haynes’s sentiment, with many expressing their excitement with the course content in the first session. India Horner, an MA International student, said the module has given her a powerful toolbox of skills for interviewing different communities. “I think that the module should be compulsory for all students studying journalism right now. The module is a safe space that encourages us to ask questions, so we know the important questions to ask when we work in newsrooms.”

By Cyna Mirzai

Gatsby gets novel upgrade

Biased social media attacks on women are part of what inspired film journalist Jane Crowther to write her debut novel – a gender-flipped take on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s TheGreatGatsby

She said: “The original is a timeless book [but] is more poignant with a female perspective as it happens to women all the time. Public opinion is incredibly cruel to women.”

Crowther’s version features a female social media influencer. She got the idea during Covid while “looking at other people’s lives on social media”.

Gatsby tells the story of Nic Caraway, who finds herself in “a mess of betrayal and social scandal” when she befriends her famous neighbour, it-girl Jay Gatsby.

The main challenge for the City St George’s alum was trying to balance her day job as a journalist with writing the novel. She said: “I sacrificed things I wanted to do in order to write.”

Her career as editor-in-chief of entertainment magazine Hollywood Authentic has helped her “enormously”.

“As a journalist, you can approach writing fiction in a more pragmatic way because you have the skills to condense ideas into words.”

The book will be published by The Borough Press on 10 April 2025, exactly 100 years after the original novel hit the shelves and became a cult classic.

By Flore Boitel

Suyin Haynes, Lecturer at City St George’s

Photos provided by Shennell Kennedy and The Borough Press

IT System Update

A spacious and newly equipped tech room has replaced the journalism department’s cramped IT office

By Kathryn Vann

The Information Technology (IT) department has moved from their byte-sized office in AG12 to AG18, which is located next to The Pool in the College Building.

AG12’s ancillary room, used for charging batteries and storing tripods, was an awkward wedge-shape and difficult to use. AG18 comprises two rooms, with one converted into storage for camera kits and equipment and an additional cupboard for battery storage.

The spacious AG18 has allowed the IT team to expand from five to seven staff. David Goodfellow, Head of IT, said: “The previous room was only suitable for three people to comfortably work in.”

“The shared space is better in terms of communication and collaboration,” said Mr Goodfellow.

With a counter to establish an office space for staff, and a lobby for students to queue, the room is more organised. Mr Goodfellow said: “In AG12 the students would walk in bringing equipment back en masse, creating trip hazards.”

Staff also have enough space to show students how to use the equipment appropriately. “We would show students how to set up cameras on tripods in front of the fire exit, which was not ideal,” Mr Goodfellow added.

Aside from physical expansion, staff skill-sets are growing too. Mr. Goodfellow and Maria Martinez-Ugartechea now teach classes on how to use the equipment and support Media, Culture, and Creative Industry modules.

This merited the purchase of more equipment, now available for use by journalism students, including more Canon EOS 4000D cameras, bluetooth

microphones and DJI Osmo

Goodbye windows, hello new programmes

Photos provided by Maria Martinez-Ugartechea and Kathryn Vann

Disability event inspires student

An MA Broadcast student has credited a disability event held at Sky as inspiring her to continue with her journalism career.

Roisin Clear, 24, a student at City St George’s, said that attending the Disability Journalism Forum (DJF) at Sky Headquarters in London on 14 March encouraged her to keep going.

The event brought together some of the country’s most successful disabled journalists with the aim of improving representation of underrepresented groups in newsrooms. Some 300 people attended the event, the DJF’s largest conference.

Ms Clear, who is on the forum’s social media committee, said: “I had a blip the other day, for various personal reasons, where I didn’t know if I could keep going [with journalism].

“With journalism, also as a disabled person, it can feel like a dead end and you need to be tenacious to keep going but this event reinstated the push that everyone, but especially disabled journalists, need.”

The theme of this year’s event was ‘Impact’ and Dr Shani Dhana, the chair of the DJF, said that even if change “isn’t shiny and immediately obvious from the outside” it’s important disabled people are “changing and shaping excluded and underrepresented identities”.

Sky presenter Saima Mohsin, who delivered the keynote speech said just increasing “visual representation [of disabled people] was not enough” and that more had to be done in editorial positions.

The presenter was left with a hidden disability after a car crushed her foot whilst she was reporting for CNN from the Gaza strip in 2014.

Other speakers throughout the day included Aidy Smith, the only Global TV host with Tourette’s syndrome and Max Preston, a digital producer at Sky who is also wheelchair user with quadriplegic cerebral palsy.

By Will Lewallen

Alum joins Today Programme

This March, City St George’s alum Anna Foster was announced as a presenter for BBC Radio 4’s Today. She will be replacing Mishal Hussein as one of the show’s hosts.

With over 25 years of experience at the BBC, Mrs Foster has presented for Radio 1 Newsbeat, Radio 5 Live Drive, as well as working as a Middle East Correspondent for BBC News for three years in Beirut. Now, she will be joining the Today programme, which averages 5.9 million listeners.

Mrs Foster studied Broadcast at City St George’s and joined the BBC training scheme on graduation.

By Anna Mahtani

Traditional media can learn valuable lessons from TikTok

TikTok is reshaping journalism and traditional media can learn from the short form video platform, a leading City St George’s academic has argued.

The advantages and disadvantages of the social media app were explored by Dr Rana Arafat, an assistant professor in digital journalism at City St George’s, in her latest research paper, ‘Unveiling the Online Dynamics Influencing the Success and Virality of TikTok Social Movements’.

Dr Arafat said: “Traditional media can learn a lot from TikTok, especially [when] amplifying underrepresented voices and making journalism more accessible.”

Her paper examines the popularity of social movements on TikTok, focusing on feminist campaigns resisting hijab bans like #Handsoffmyhijab and #WomanLifeFreedom in France and Iran.

Dr Arafat said: “TikTok is reshaping journalism by prioritising visual user generated content that is

interactive for audiences.”

She considers this format valuable in making journalism more engaging and accessible to younger people .“It has enabled younger generations to democratise information dissemination, allowing underrepresented voices to share news and perspectives outside traditional media outlets.”

She added that TikTok has also allowed younger generations “to discover and engage with social movements, such as the feminist movement, more easily”.

While acknowledging that journalists and news publications have started incorporating short-form journalism, infographics, and visuals to engage younger people, Dr Arafat argued more needs to be done.

“Journalists should learn how to use the right keywords and connect with viral hashtags to better reach younger generations,” she said.

Dr Arafat also warned about the risks TikTok presents for the future of journalism.“The emphasis on short-form engaging videos can sometimes sacrifice accuracy and depth.”

She said that due to the prevalence of misinformation and fake news, “fact-checking is essential and should be done before videos are posted on social media platforms to ensure accurate reporting”.

By Maria Vieira

provided by AP

#WomanLifeFreedom protest in Paris, France

Photo

Investigative MA project makes dating app safer

Alum Billy Stockwell’s investigation exposed widespread child sexual abuse on Grindr

By Clementine Scott

Ofcom has moved to clarify rules on dating app age verification to protect children from grooming and sexual abuse following an investigation by an MA alumnus.

Billy Stockwell’s piece, published in January in The i Paper, used FOIs, police forces, and interviewee testimony to explore widespread alleged sexual abuse of boys as young as 12 on the LGBTQ+ app Grindr. The investigation began as a second term project at City St George’s in 2023 as a short documentary.

Mr Stockwell said: “When I was talking to Ofcom as part of the investigation, they weren’t committing either way,” on whether or not dating apps fell under the Online Safety Act 2023.

The ambiguities in Ofcom’s previous guidance was one of many challenges Mr Stockwell faced in the course of his investigation. He also sent FOI requests to over 50 UK police forces about instances of alleged underage sexual offences reported where Grindr played a role. Many of these police forces, including the Metropolitan Police Force, did not provide data in response to the requests.

“I think the major challenge was the time [the investigation] took, and the perseverance, without knowing if it would lead to anything, as well as it being a

sensitive and emotional topic,” he said.

A roadmap published in October 2023 set out that Ofcom was planning on regulating “child safety, pornography and the protection of women and girls” in line with the Online Safety Act before Stockwell’s piece was published. However, the roadmap did not specifically mention dating apps, and instead mainly focused on pornography websites.

Now, the regulator has published specific guidance stating that “user-touser services” (including Grindr and all similar dating apps) likely to be accessed by children must conduct a children’s risk assessment, and implement more robust age verification methods. This guidance must be implemented by July 2025.

Mr Stockwell said: “Some people looked at the investigation and wondered why it focused on Grindr, but our pieces hopefully showed that LGBTQ+ children can be affected in a different way to straight children. It showed that we need age appropriate spaces for people coming to terms with their sexuality.

“There’s something powerful about

knowing that [the piece] was the front page in supermarkets and corner shops across the country. It might lead parents to ask their child questions that they wouldn’t have done before, and might give validation to LGBTQ+ children.”

Mr Stockwell credits his time at City St George’s with providing him with the crucial self-belief he needed to carry the investigation over the line. He said: “Our tutors instilled the confidence in each of us that if you have an idea and you put in the effort and the time, you will be able to carry it through.”

Richard Danbury, the MA Investigative Journalism course director, added: “I always tell students on my pathway not to think of themselves as students. It’s like being on a work placement and instead of asking to shadow someone, asking yourself what you’re able to contribute to the organisation.

“I love it when they then go on and do well. It makes the whole job and its frustrations worthwhile.”

Mr Stockwell is now freelancing at CNN, focusing on human rights stories, and recent projects have included reporting on the Israel-Gaza war and on LGBTQ+ issues in Afghanistan. He is keen, however, to continue with more work closer to home.

“These stories need to be told so we don’t get apathetic, even if they are already known about in the background. It’s about ensuring that people know these stories don’t just happen abroad or in wartorn countries, they happen on our doorstep,” he said.

The i Paper’s headline for Billy Stockwell’s story

One of the dating apps, Grindr, targeted by this investigation Photo

Podcasting students revive Islington’s local history

Podcasting students revive interest in Islington’s local history

Islington Guided Walks have teamed up with Podcasting MA students at City St George’s to create a four-part podcast that aims to revive passion for local history in young people.

“When someone says, ‘Let’s go on a tour,’ a lot of younger people aren’t interested in it [and] think it sounds really boring,” said Jane Parker, tour guide and co-ordinator at Islington Guided Walks.

“We’re looking at making something more appealing to young people and widen our audience,” she added.

Clerkenwell and Islington Guided Walks have been operating for 37 years, but it’s the first time they’ve collaborated with students. The podcast will aim to bring a modern take to local history, focusing on themes of food and drink, diversity, women, and literature.

Jane Parker added: “A lot of what we do as guides is research. It’s like climbing up a tree, you go up one branch and find another. So I threw this idea to the students about sleuthing, and acting as an investigator.

“I’ve lived here for 35 years and find

something new every day. It’s all there; it’s just waiting to be found out.”

Melusi Ncala, one of the students involved in the collaboration, shared what he’d learned about Islington as an international student: “It’s got a long, illustrious history, and is now quite a transformed space.

“The creative process of making podcasts is really what fuels me. It’s been both fun and challenging, especially because I’m working on something that will be used.”

By Zahra Onsori

Vanity fear in journo’s new book

Toxic beauty standards and the pressures of online perfection are the focus of journalist Ellen Atlanta’s bestselling book, recently released in paperback form.

then we end up in four-hour conversations where everyone is crying. Beauty is linked to our relationships with food, family, sex, and pleasure – it’s not trivial.”

The book dives into the complex

provided by Kathryn Vann

Pixel Flesh has received praise, with activist Gina Martin calling it ‘a brilliant clarion call for better’ and author Chloé Cooper Jones describing it as ‘an essential mirror reflecting the profound impact of

Photo

New generation displayed in the journalism ‘Hall of Fame’

The University’s ‘Wall of Fame,’ which showcases journalism alumni, has been given a rebrand to mark the department’s 50th anniversary. The wall, opposite AG35 in the journalism department, will honour some of City St George’s’ alumni for their achievements in the industry.

Dr Glenda Cooper, Head of the Journalism Department, said: “I want our students to look at the wall and see people from different backgrounds, different times at City, who’ve gone to be successful in a variety of careers – and feel inspired to know they can do the same.”

The wall’s revamp, which is being coordinated by Jo Payton, Associate Dean of Student Experience, will reflect the diversity of the University’s alumni.

Dr Cooper added: “The journalism industry still has a long way to go when

it comes to diversity and we’ve already discussed how this issue will be key to our 50th birthday commemorations. We want to challenge the industry and address what needs to be done, and what our role can be in this.” More than 6,000 City St George’s alumni now work in newsrooms worldwide; the university ranks first in the UK for journalism, according to the Guardian University Guide in 2023.

Dr Cooper shared that they have already inducted some recent alumni into the new ‘Wall of Fame.’ These include Kira Richards, BA Journalism class of 2023, now Assistant Project Editor at National Geographic Traveller (UK), and Mariam Amini, MA Magazine Journalism class of 2024, a freelance journalist who has written for publications like Middle East Eye and The Guardian

By Kathryn Vann

MA Magazine student wins PPA Young Journalist Award (again!)

Astudent from the MA Magazine course won this year’s Student Journalist of the Year prize at the prestigious PPA Next Gen Awards. This is the 16th time in the last 17 years that a student from the MA Magazine course at City St George’s has been awarded the title.

Ceci Browning, who is now Assistant Literary Editor at The Times, said: “It was so nice to be recognised by the PPA for the writing I did during my time at City.

“The investigative piece I wrote as my final project was on a topic totally alien to me – a worrying increase in the popularity of direct cremations – but I think that including it in the portfolio I submitted was a good way of proving journalistic curiosity to the judges.”

Other stories in Ms Browning’s portfolio included an interview with actor Callum Turner and a lifestyle piece for The Times

The award ceremony champions ‘30 of the most exciting rising stars in the UK publishing and specialist media sector’. The Student Journalist award celebrates journalists who ‘showcased exceptional work during their studies’.

At the last ceremony, the prestigious achievement went to alumnus Daniella Clarke, now a sub-editor at Hearst UK.

The ceremony was held on 17 October at the Mondrian Shoreditch hotel. The highly anticipated guest speaker of the event was Kenya Hunt, Editor-in-Chief of ELLE UK.

Other alumni that received awards included James Riding (Chief Reporter, Inside Housing) and Georgia Aspinall (previously Senior Editor, now Acting Assistant Editor at Grazia)

By Marissa Goursaud

Photos provided by Kathryn Vann and Ceci Browning

Hanging with the greats: Jo Payton next to the ‘Wall of Fame’

Ceci Browning poses with her Student Journalist of the Year prize

Ms Browning onstage with Sajeeda Merali, CEO of the PPA

City graduates join teaching staff

Two former students from City St George’s return to teach at the university where they started their journalism careers.

Kath Melandri, who was formerly a programme director at University of the Arts London, has taken over as the new head of undergraduate journalism.

Ms Melandri, who is a cover presenter for BBC Radio London, said the role of Programme Director for BA Journalism at City St George’s, was “a wonderful

opportunity” she could not turn down. An alum of the Broadcast Journalism Diploma course at City St George’s in 1996, she added: “This September it would be 30 years since I studied here, so it felt like a really big circle closing.

“I’m very driven by talking to people. One of the things I enjoy the most is finding a stranger and discovering what makes them tick.”

She aims to inspire her students with her

Short courses built for in-demand skills

Data journalism, how to pitch stories, and podcasting are among a new series of journalism courses currently in development at City St George’s.

Structured to equip journalists with in-demand skills, the courses will range from single-day workshops to full-term programmes. They will be open to a broad audience, from aspiring journalists to working professionals looking to upskill, and will be taught by a mixture of journalism staff and visiting lecturers.

Holly Shiflett, Director of Educational Enterprise, said: “The journalism department is wanting to be responsive all the time. We’re constantly asking, ‘What does the industry need? What do students need?’ Short courses can be built quickly and made very topical, based on what’s happening in the industry.”

Unlike traditional degree programmes, most short courses are ungraded and do not require formal assessments. Participants will receive expert-led instructions and feedback without the pressure of exams.

They will also offer prospective journalism degree students the chance to experience the department at City before committing to longer programmes of study.

As part of the University’s commitment to lifelong learning, the School of Communication & Creativity plans to expand these offerings in response to industry and student needs.

“We want to be part of students’ lives before they arrive, while they study, and after they graduate,” said Ms Shiflett. “Whether you’re looking to build a career or simply develop new skills, there’s something here for everyone.”

By Romy Journee

love for storytelling and help them understand the joy of broadcasting. “Working with the next generations of the best broadcasters and journalists around the country is wonderful,” she said.

Additionally, Ms Melandri is currently guiding third-year students through their final multimedia news day. “Their dedication and growth has been incredible,” she said. “I might cry when I say goodbye to them.”

Another former alum from the Newspaper Diploma, Raekha Prasad, has begun supervising the MA Magazine final year projects. The former foreign correspondent for The Times and feature writer for The Guardian joined the journalism department in 2024 teaching news writing, UK media, journalism history and culture, and journalism ethics for undergraduates.

Previously teaching at Goldsmiths, University of London for five years, Ms Prasad said, “It’s important to be clear about what story you’re telling, before you start writing.”

By Isha Khan and Yasmine Medjdoub

High cost of City St George’s merger revealed

Over £3.7m has been allocated to the merger of City, University of London with medical school St George’s, a Freedom of Information request has revealed.

Between February 2024 and February 2025, £3,709,659 has been set aside to cover a variety of merger-related expenses. Of the sum, just under 45 per cent has been spent on the creation of a Merger Office. Other high expenses have included over £500,000 on estates and nearly £350,000 on branding.

Merger-related costs are still ongoing as City St George’s continues to implement changes, including the university’s marketing, student/staff email addresses, and replacing signs.

By Romy Journee

Kath Melandri (left) and Raekha Prasad (right)

Photo: Kathryn Vann

The Sekforde wins latest licensing battle

Historic pub’s licence reviewed after noise disturbances and anti-social behaviour complaints

By Hannah Bentley

The Sekforde, a beloved 196-yearold pub popular with journalism students and staff, has won its latest licensing battle, securing its future with new restrictions amid ongoing disputes over noise and outdoor drinking.

The Victorian Grade II listed drinking establishment, located on Sekforde Street in Clerkenwell, faced potential closure after neighbours complained of customers blocking pavements, loud music, intimidation and egg throwing.

During a meeting with Islington

that could be opened, leading to poor ventilation inside the venue during summer months.

In the latest licensing meeting, chaired by councillor Heather Staff, the open window ban was lifted, but an acoustic curtain, a roped-off outdoor area, a 9pm door closure, and a door supervisor on busy nights were imposed.

After the five-hour session at Islington Town Hall, the landlord, Harry Smith, said he was “pretty happy” with the outcome.

He added: “I’m glad we’re still allowed to have people outside, and that the licensing board agrees with us about the windows. The demarcated area will reduce outdoor space and it’s unclear whether our chair licence will change, but we were expecting a compromise.”

Mr Smith defended the pub alongside The Sekforde’s licensee David Lonsdale, and architect Chris Dyson, who restored the building in 2018.

Complainants testified anonymously from a separate room – an unusual move that former barrister, Mr Lonsdale, called “highly irregular”. Their accusations, broadcast via video call to the main town hall, ranged from persistent noise disturbances to incidents of harassment that required police involvement.

Testimonies in support of the pub came from local office workers, couples who had booked the venue for wedding receptions, and Sekforde employees. Each speech was met with applause.

One supporter, a resident of Sekforde Street for over 30 years, said: “What’s this obsession with vertical drinking?

Photo: Kathryn Vann

Jungle Jane

From bushtucker trials to camp fall outs, Loose Women’s Jane Moore chats with Clara Taylor about her time surviving the jungle

The prospect of a one-month paid holiday in Australia would, for many, be the trip of a lifetime. With the added complication of some bushtucker trials where you may have to snack on a kangaroo’s unmentionables or be locked in a chamber filled with creepy crawlies, you might see some resistance. But not for Loose Women’s Jane Moore.

After over four decades working in journalism, holding positions at The Sun, This Morning, The Andrew Marr Show, and now as anchor on ITV1’s Loose Women, in December Moore agreed to compete in the 24th series of I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here. Despite a bustup about the washing up, Moore greatly enjoyed the experience. She speaks to XCity about her time in the jungle.

C: What made you agree to I’m a Celeb?

J: They’ve asked me before, but the timing has never been right – I was either working full time or with young children. This year everything just aligned, so I went for it!

C: How did you find it adapting from the pace of journalism to a remote jungle?

J: It was one of my favourite parts of the experience. I slept like a baby. It was like living in a meditation app with the sound of the creek and the trees. You literally have nothing to worry about other than keeping the fire alight.

C: Did you find the other contestants were willing to open up to you as a journalist?

J: I was wary of people thinking “she’s a journalist, she’ll stitch us up”. After three or four days, we started to have little chats and got on really well. I think quite quickly people realised that I’m just a normal person.

C: Do you think your curiosity as a journalist played a role in helping the public understand the group better?

J: I think that’s the reason they asked me on the show. Production can get frustrated when there are great stories to tell but they don’t come out because no one is asking the right questions.

[N.B. the reported £100k appearance fee may have also been persuasive].

C: Were you worried about the transition from presenting on TV to being a reality TV contestant?

I’m used to live television and having my wits about me, but I’m more wary of prerecorded shows. You have to be careful either way, but it’s so much easier for things to be taken out of context or edited when they’re pre-recorded.

As a journalist, you’re inherently interested in other people but you need to be a good listener. Like the conversation I instigated with Danny Jones from McFly about his anxiety. He said that he’d never really talked about it and that I’d got him to open up.

C: Did it ever feel strange learning things about your campmates that you’d typically be encouraged to report on?

J: I’m not that kind of journalist. I’d never betray someone’s trust. If it hasn’t appeared on the show, there’s a reason for that. To everybody’s credit, they never once said to me “I hope you don’t write about that”.

It’s not new to me either. Dame Barbara Windsor, for example, was a great friend of mine, and I was one of the very few people who knew she had Alzheimer’s before it was made public. In the end she actually asked me to write the story because I could control the story. But I would have never betrayed her trust and reported on it without her express permission or wishes.

C: Were you able to switch off the part of your brain that is thinking about how you’d report on what was being said in the jungle?

J: I was aware of what would make the newspapers but I know the others felt similarly because there are cameras everywhere. That said, I still managed to switch off and be present.

Although Moore was the first to leave, she has no regrets about her time in the jungle. “I’m at a time in my life where I’m just trying to say yes to as much as possible”, she says. Perhaps it’ll be Dancing on Ice next.

Y u wouldn’t

Bossy boots? Crybaby? A narcissist who spent too much on a suit? Hattie Birchinall flips the gendered cultural dialogue by asking male-identifying journalists life’s most important questions – the ones they’re never asked

Jay Rayner

Food critic

When you look at your body, how does it make you feel?

I have concerns over body image. I always have been a large man but I’m in the gym four times a week. I don’t always like what I see in the mirror. But I think I’ve made an accommodation with who I am. That said, there are certain TV jobs I don’t want to do because I don’t want to have to watch myself.

Can you think of an example when someone might have made you feel guilty or ashamed about how or what you’re eating? No, because I refuse to feel guilty about food; I think guilt is insidious. I have been raised to laugh in the face of it. I’m regularly asked what my guilty pleasure is around food and I refuse to answer that. You can try your bloody hardest, but it will tell me more about you than it does about me.

Would you describe yourself as bossy?

I am a control freak of my own working life. The idea of being late is utterly appalling to me. I remember taking a train to Yorkshire once, I got off without taking my suitcase with me and it undermined my very sense of self.

Can you tell me what your most expensive pair of trousers is? I got a pair of boring formal black trousers made for me by a great tailor; they cost £420. The trousers are extremely uncomfortable. He made exactly what I asked him to make. The fact is, I was an idiot. I thought I needed a formal pair of black slacks, because sometimes I think, “God, you’re a man of 58 still wearing jeans, shouldn’t you grow up? But I just don’t like wearing those kinds of trousers.”

Tom Lamont

Freelancer

How do you balance having such a successful career and a family?

I deliberately went freelance when my first child was born 11 years ago. It involved taking a horrific pay cut and surrendering all stability in my life, economic and otherwise. But it felt like this invaluable thing would be missed if I didn’t.

My partner is also a freelancer, and between us, there is this weird juggle of parenting kids who have social lives and activities with deadlines and multiple projects on the go at once.

I think if one of us was in a more traditional job, this would be really difficult.

Have you ever felt a sense of guilt when you travel for work?

Definitely. I followed a decommissioned oil rig around the world – I visited it in a scrapping yard in Eastern Turkey about eight weeks after my son was born and I was in Scotland trying to get on board right before he was due.

That was a real period of fear and guilt that I was going to miss the birth. And then afterwards, guilt that I wasn’t there to help at one of the most demanding moments in all of parenting, which is when a second newborn comes into the mix. My wife had to handle that (not especially cool).

Have you ever cried at work?

Yeah. I’ve had visible displays of emotion that wouldn’t be strictly professional. But it was honest in the moment, it was real.

Interviewing can be very intense, especially faceto-face. You try and hold yourself together because it’s important that you do, but it’s not always possible. Sometimes, it’s good for everyone if you are honest about how you’re responding to someone’s story.

Have you ever felt pressured to look a certain way?

Sometimes, working for glossy magazines, I feel I’m expected to look a certain way. There is enormous value in coming into things casually dressed because you don’t want to put your interviewee on edge. You want them to trust you in some way – you’re asking them to let you into their lives.

Photos by provided Jonathan Stewart and Tom Lamont

ask a man that

Bryan

Channel 4 sports correspondent

What is your skincare routine before you go on camera?

I don’t want to sound arrogant… I don’t have many great qualities, but I do have good natural skin so I don’t actually require that much of a routine.

I wash my face at least twice a day. I try to cream my face every morning and night. Something that people don’t understand about having good skin, especially with your face, is that you need to look after your hair – your hair needs to be cleaned and well-oiled, especially black hair. If you look after your hair, your skin will look good as well.

What’s your go-to wardrobe choice when you need to look confident but approachable?

I’m a confident person, and I think that comes from how I carry myself and how I talk to people as opposed to, “he’s wearing that, so therefore he’s in a confident mood today”.

When you look at your body, how do you feel?

Not great. But whether you’re skinny or fat, it’s not going to define your day-to-day. What’s more important is your respect for people and your generosity. I’m trying not to let it consume me but it’s really difficult.

Keme Nzerem

Channel 4 presenter

How do you balance having a successful career and a family?

As a typical bloke, I didn’t really think about what it would be like when my first daughter was born. From the moment I saw her curly black mop of hair popping out, I didn’t want to be the same person I had been before, who was always putting work first.

But I had two stingy weeks off which was the allocation before shared parental leave.

The unspoken reality is that there are a gazillion broken relationships in broadcast journalism because there is a direct conflict between getting exclusives and having a family life.

Do you ever worry that being too passionate about a story might make people think you’re too emotional for this job?

That gets beaten out of you as a news journalist. I’m making a film at the moment about the upsetting revelation that both sides of my ancestry - Nigerian and American - were involved in enslavement. I don’t want to do that story as a journalist, I want to do that as myself, which makes it not a news story. It has become a good outlet for me to explore my emotions in a world of storytelling where I’m not allowed to let my emotions play a role.

Have you ever cried at work?

Watching films, I’m a blubbering wreck. But I don’t at work.

I’ve been deeply moved and affected. I’ve interviewed people who’ve experienced the most awful things – their children being murdered, survivors of abuse – but there is a shield, a veneer of professionalism.

If you’re a regular person who absorbs the news, what do you do with that negative energy? Where does it go? There is something about the processing of emotion that happens when it is your job to tell a story.

Tiago Ventura interviews Olga Rudenko, editor of The Kyiv Independent, as she reports on the tumultuous first one hundred days of Donald Trump’s presidency

November 5: Donald Trump is re-elected as President of the United States

I remember waking up and checking The New York Times, seeing the headline: “Trump heads for the win”. I wasn’t surprised – this was the outcome I had expected.

At this point, I still saw Donald Trump as a wild card. His statements were not pro-Ukraine and sometimes even leaned pro-Russia. However, many people believed he could benefit Ukraine, as his arch-enemy was China. The thinking was that in trying to weaken China, he would also weaken Russia.

Every day at 10am, we hold a team check-in meeting

in our newsroom. Most people were in the office, some joined online. The team is made up of Ukrainians though we have several Americans working with us.

I knew the mood of the meeting would be sour. Some would be disappointed, others anxious about what this meant for Ukraine. That morning, my focus was not on what this meant for Ukraine, but how to talk to my team about it.

As a Ukrainian, after the past three years, I have learned to handle everything with a dark, sarcastic, often dry humour. It has helped us cope to this point. So, I opened the meeting with one of my many variations of “Well, this is the end of the world” jokes. The Ukrainians on my team smiled; the Americans did not.

Photos provided by AP and The Kyiv Independent

Olga Rudenko, editor of The Kyiv Independent

The day after the election, we received a flood of emails from readers, especially Americans, concerned about what Trump’s re-election meant for Ukraine. Our newsletter has over 16,000 subscribers, and our community management team suggested we send a special update. The message was straightforward: based on Trump’s past statements, we had concerns, but we would report on his presidency as fairly as we would any other. We would not jump to conclusions, nor would we engage in activism – we would remain journalists, watching closely what he said and did in relation to Ukraine and Russia. At the same time, we acknowledged our readers’ concerns and stood in solidarity with them. It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to write.

December 18: Keith Kellogg appointed as Trump’s envoy to Ukraine

In the newsroom, there was some disappointment, but nothing too strong. By this point, you become somewhat numb to news coming from America. I commissioned an in-depth analysis of what Kellogg’s appointment meant for Ukraine.

At the time, the outlook seemed optimistic. The administration appeared to be moving towards providing security guarantees, which was, seemingly, a positive sign for Ukraine.

January 27: United States Agency for International Development (USAID) is shut down

February 18: Trump says Ukraine “should have never started” the war

It was the start of

an insane sequence of events. I was baffled by Trump’s continued “bromance” with Putin. What was he getting out of publicly fawning over him?

This all unfolded in the evening for us. Our news team worked frantically, updating statements and coverage. Because of the intensity, even one of our deputy editors jumped in to assist the news team.

Trump said Ukraine “should have never started” the war and called Zelensky a “dictator”.

“AS A UKRAINIAN, AFTER THE PAST THREE YEARS, I HAVE LEARNED TO HANDLE EVERYTHING WITH DARK, SARCASTIC, OFTEN DRY HUMOUR”

hit Ukrainian media hard. We are lucky to be one of the only independentlyfunded media outlets in the country, but others were devastated. Some lost 90 per cent of their funding overnight. All projects stopped immediately. Even if funds had already been transferred to bank accounts, they could not access them. Outlets couldn’t pay salaries; they couldn’t do anything.

We had planned a screening of a documentary on Russian war crimes at the American House in Kyiv, a cultural space funded by the US government. It was cancelled due to the shutdown of the entire system.

That day, we published a major piece focusing on the aid freeze’s impact on Ukrainian NGOs, covering war relief efforts, bomb shelters, schools, and the media.

I wrote an op-ed explaining how foreign aid works. There is a misconception that US-funded media isn’t independent, but that isn’t true. These grants come with no editorial control. They fund free journalism, allowing independent media to function in a country where selfsustainability is nearly impossible due to the war. Foreign aid was their lifeline.

Some accused me of being too harsh on Trump. Ironically, the op-ed begins by acknowledging his claims that he would end the war immediately upon taking office.

I remember that day vividly – a facepalm moment. The President of the United States spreading blatant lies about my country. I have criticised Zelensky, and I will continue to do so, but he is not a dictator, and Ukraine did not start this war.

The question was: how do we respond? A fact-checking piece? A broader analysis? We debated how to cover Trump without allowing him to dictate the news cycle. His strategy is to throw out so many statements that he dominates the agenda. So, we had to think carefully.

The next morning, our audience development manager checked Google Trends. The top search in the US was: “Who started the war in Ukraine?”

You think, “How can they be asking that?” But then you realise, if people are searching for it, they don’t know the answer. A team member suggested we replicate those words in our headline, “Who started the war in Ukraine?” Then, when you open the piece, the whole story is: “Russia”.

It was one of my favourite pieces. It became our mostread piece of the week. Thousands of people subscribed to our site after reading it. The story was picked up by European and Canadian media.

As a journalist, I will not advocate for a person or ideology. Yet, starting to doubt who began the war in Ukraine is an assault on truth and facts. I will advocate for my country and for the truth.

February 28: Zelensky nightmare press conference at the White House

This took everything to another level. It was a Friday night, and we were all still in the office.

As the meeting between Zelensky and Trump unfolded, I turned to my team and said, “Oh my God, they are fighting live in the Oval Office.” Everyone gathered to watch. We were sitting there with our hands in our heads in disbelief.

It was really shocking. We know Trump is not a fan of Zelensky or Ukraine, still watching this was insane. Berating a president like that, with the cameras at the Oval Office, was unthinkable. When people say this meeting changed global diplomacy forever, I think they’re right.

This

“MY WORK FROM THE PAST THREE YEARS WAS CRUMBLING IN FRONT OF MY EYES”

We had access to a Ukrainian TV station’s live YouTube stream before major networks picked it up. This meant we could publish our coverage 30 minutes ahead of major outlets.

At 8pm we published a main piece covering the argument.

That week, we had already drafted an editorial, directed at the American public, urging them to support Ukraine. But with the Oval Office confrontation, it became irrelevant. That night, I poured myself a glass of whisky and rewrote it, focusing on the meeting. The new version, published at midnight, was read by over 100,000 people.

I remember thinking, “what does this mean for Ukraine?”

March 4: Aid to Ukraine is stopped It came as a shock. We reported on it extensively, ensuring a range of perspectives. One of our approaches is street polling and vox popping ordinary Ukrainians about what they think. We paired this with direct reactions from soldiers on the front line. We have to reach them by text messages to get their reaction.

I had just arrived in London for a conference. Late at night, I saw the notification on X. I double-checked sources, then rewrote my speech for the UK Freedom Press Forum to reflect the new reality.

My work from the past three years was crumbling in front of my eyes.

March 11: Proposed deal to Ukraine-Russia ceasefire

You always hope that the tides will turn, and something will change. Instead, this was the moment I realised a miracle was not going to happen.

This will be another unfair ceasefire for Ukraine, because at this point any peace deal that Russia accepts will not be good for Ukraine. Knowing Russia and reporting on it for a long time, they will only agree to the ceasefire with the purpose of sabotaging it and blaming it on Ukraine, to justify a re-invasion. I predict it will be a false flag operation, where they say Ukrainians are breaking the ceasefire.

It wasn’t a happy evening, but it was sobering. The next morning, at our news meeting, this was the centre of discussion. The general understanding was the implications from the ceasefire need to be understood. We agreed that Russia will only agree to the proposal with the lifting of sanctions and replenishing its resources, and this means that Russia will benefit from a freeze in the battlefield.

We discussed doing a story on elements to lookout for, on whether Russia is serious about the ceasefire, or it will attempt to violate and sabotage it. We will be doing another story on their options going forward with their domestic audience. For several years, they have spread propaganda in order to have Russian people support the war and support the idea of a full destruction of Ukraine. We will see how Putin sells the idea of the ceasefire to its people.

For the past two nights, Kyiv has been targeted and attacked by drones, so it doesn’t feel like Russia is rushing into a ceasefire.

We’re looking ahead at a very complicated year, not that that’s something new for us - there’s not going to be a simple end to the war,but we will help our readers to navigate and make sense of it.

Photos provided by The Kyiv Independent

Top: Olena Zashko (left) and Francis Farrell (right) reporting in Ukraine. Bottom Left: Camera Crew from The Kyiv Independent ready for reporting

Uncovering stories humans can’t Uncovering stories humans can’t

AI

anxiety is rife throughout journalism. Isabel Dempsey hears from the reporters using it to find hidden leads

I’m not so happy with the AI revolution.” It’s a sentiment shared by many, especially in journalism. Nobody wants job-stealing bots to rewrite their articles, spew out questionable research, or infringe on copyright.

The confession, however, is somewhat more surprising when it comes from Jaemark Tordecilla, a journalist turned AI consultant who uses it to discover stories that he couldn’t have found alone. “I spend more time on it than anyone I know,” he says. The more you use it, the more you realise how dumb it is.”

Tordecilla, the former Editor-in-Chief of the Philippines’ largest broadcaster, Global Media Arts (GMA), teaches newsrooms across the country how to integrate AI. While he’s “not impressed” with the accuracy of OpenAI’s or Gemini’s Deep Research models (AI-powered tools that perform in-depth research), he has found other ways to use the software to his advantage.

When it comes to AI and journalism in the UK, innovation has been limited. The BBC reported earlier this year that the technology failed to accurately summarise their stories. Meanwhile, Reach’s Gutenbot (an AI tool used to recycle the same article across multiple sites) is threatening to replace rather than enhance the work of their journalists. Look to newsrooms around the world, however, and you’ll discover journalists using the software in new and innovative ways to uncover stories they never would have been able to find before.

In 2021, a GMA journalist named Llanesca T. Panti uncovered that the Philippines’ Department of

Education had bought 2.4 billion Philippine pesos’ (£104 million) worth of outdated laptops. The information was buried in a couple of lines in a 46page audit summary. If not for Panti’s eagle eyes, the government would never have been held to account. This got Tordecilla thinking: could he programme AI to find these stories for him?

Recognising that ChatGPT was not specialised enough, Tordecilla designed his own model. He initially asked it to find stories by impersonating a journalist, but it would return only surface level findings. His eureka moment came when he realised he was a better journalist than the AI model, because he already knew what information he was looking for. “All I needed to do was ask the AI to summarise and find those things for me. Then, I could rely on my experience and instinct to figure out if there was a story.”

Elsewhere, the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) used AI back in 2018 to scan 5.4 million FDA reports, which revealed 15,000 cases of potential underreporting. But because they wanted to publish that information, they had to read each of those reports individually to uncover 2,100 hidden deaths linked to medical implants.

ICIJ journalist Pierre Romera Zhang remains wary of the technology, noting that it “is very experimental” and “still makes a lot of errors”. Due to the ICIJ’s high standards for source verification, if they use these tools, they still have to check the information extracted by hand. “That takes almost as much time as reading all the documents by ourselves.”

“AI has made things possible that were impossible before”

Having created his “audit assistant” to work through government spending, he then developed his “budget bot”. Both bots allow journalists to query the database in natural language. If you were to ask “How much is in the budget for education this year?”, the AI would turn that question into code and draw out an answer.

In essence, he has “cloned” a journalist who’s a budget expert into the software, so that a reporter with very little knowledge on the topic can easily find stories without having to rely on a data analyst.

“We're talking about an Excel file that's about 70 megabytes with 700,000 records. If you were to load it in a typical computer, it would freeze.” His budget bot is not just time-saving, but has “made things possible that were not before”.

Jaemark is not the only journalist adopting AI in his work. Last year, The Washington Post released their

In comparison, Tordecilla’s “budget bot” found a way around potential errors. Although inaccuracies remain an issue, he explains that it’s easy for any journalist, regardless of technical background, to inspect the code and double-check their findings as they would on a calculator.

While inaccuracies are a concern for all journalists using AI, the technology can also be the solution to the problem. Olalla Novoa from Spanish media group PRISA helped develop an AI tool to detect audio deepfakes. The model has been most helpful in Latin American countries such as Mexico and Venezuela where elections were held last year.

Her model has also found deepfakes from companies using famous people’s voices. “There was a company promoting some kind of financial service scam, saying “all Mexicans can be millionaires if they buy this”, and they were using [Mexican president] Claudia Sheinbaum’s voice,” she explains. The tool can also be used for the opposite situation: when the voice is real, but the person who has been caught saying something incriminating insists that it’s fake. In a way, Novoa is fighting fire with fire. “It's much easier to say that the AI is good or bad, but the truth is it is not the AI; it is the people who use AI and how they use it, and you can apply that to almost any tool. You can use a knife to cut some fruits, or you can use

While internationally recognised newsrooms are leading the AI revolution, smaller papers are also finding ways to leverage the technology to their

journalists has been at the forefront of innovation. Lars Adrian Giske, journalist and head of AI at local , explains that it’s about “having leadership that sees the value or possibilities , which is owned by Norwegian media company Polaris, runs on a tight budget. “But from the board down to the editor down to the desk editors, there's an understanding that if we spend time and resources doing this work, we'll get a lot back from it.”

Tordecilla remains wary of the AI revolution

Photo provided Jaemark

Tordecilla

Much like Tordecilla’s “budget bot”, iTromsø started out with “basic property bots” to help journalists track transactions. Over time this bot evolved into a broader tool, named DJINN. This model pulls anything related to zoning and planning from Norwegian municipalities and ranks items based on how newsworthy they are, flagging the most interesting stories to the team.

As Giske explains, the tool uses journalists’ domain expertise as a proxy for evaluating newsworthiness. “After 10 years of working with urban planning, you have a gut instinct about whether something is newsworthy. That's what we model.”

where. “But based on the fishery-bot we knew exactly which plant it was,” explains Giske. “We’d been tracking them for a year and we could be there in two minutes. We were the only news organisation in Norway with access.”

“Journalism is screaming for tailored AI tools”

Two summer interns, without the rich beat-specific knowledge usually required to find stories, used DJINN to produce five cover articles between them. A further model developed by iTromsø, called LAILA, covers all topics of interest to their readers.

The paper discovered a 33 per cent increase in readership within its first month of using DJINN. Moreover, it has saved their newsrooms significant amounts of time and energy. “Our journalists spend an hour, an hour and a half, every day going through the journals or archives looking for stories. It’s super easy to miss one.”

The paper decided to run an analysis on the Norwegian fish industry, They collected as much data as they could, including millions of transactions, in order to track unsustainable and illegal practices. The fishery bot completed advanced analytics to find outliers and soon discovered that something very fishy was happening at one particular plant. “The prices were jumping far outside of what was normal and they were likely buying illegal catches.”

Just as they were about to publish their investigation, there was a big raid on a processing plant. The police reported that there was a huge operation going on somewhere in northern Norway, without specifying

Although many journalists fear that AI of this sort could replace them, Giske insists that they are much more focused on treating journalists’ “pain points”. Across the industry, people are also concerned that AI could pose accessibility issues. Tordecilla is especially aware of the language barriers that AI, which is primarily trained in English, can pose to foreign journalists. There are financial barriers too. He pays $20 a month for ChatGPT. “If you're a community journalist from the Philippines, that’s a big chunk out of our budget. We need to make all these tools more inclusive and accessible.”

Pierre Romera Zhang from the ICIJ is concerned about the ecological and human cost. “It costs tons of electricity and resources to train those models,” he explains. “If you use a model trained on the labour of underpaid people in a [developing] country then it’s a problem.”

While Giske shares many of these apprehensions, he thinks it would be a “danger” for journalists not to consider how to integrate AI into their work. “It provides unlimited possibilities. You can do very advanced data analytics, providing a grounding to confront power in a totally different way than we could before. If you’re not a coder, you can still build software. That was impossible four years ago.”

Giske is currently working with Polaris to sell their models to newsrooms outside of the organisation. “It’s created buzz,” he says. “People like the solution. They want access to it. There’s a market for it. What journalism is screaming for is tailored tools.”

iTromsø’s AI model found which fish processing plant was being raided

Hot from celebrating their 10th anniversary, Polyester Zine sat down with Rob Corsini to talk about their outsized output, getting the biggest stars, and the state of indie publishing

The early 2010s brought about a new aesthetic. Cutesy, maximalist, indulgently kitsch – it was a celebration of bad taste.

Performing femininity and subverting it –leaning into imagery, while critiquing it at the same time.

The aesthetic grew to be one of the defining visualisations of fourth-wave feminism. But while it gripped the internet, it was overlooked by the media – until Polyester was founded. “To me the most legitimate thing you can do for a community is give them a magazine,” says founding Editor-in-Chief, Ione Gamble. “It’s something to congregate around.”

For the past ten years, Polyester has treated high and low culture with the same analytical eye, all in a punky riot grrrl inspired package. It is a home for people to critically engage with popular media – questioning its patriarchal narratives while also shamelessly enjoying it.

From reality TV stars like The Only Way is Essex’s Gemma Collins; pop superstars Chappell Roan, Doechii, and Jade; internet tastemakers Trisha Paytas and Ziwe; to critically acclaimed artists like Sofia Coppola – if you’ve impacted culture, you’ve worked with Polyester.

The zine began as a mock up for Gamble’s end-ofmodule assessment while studying at the University for the Creative Arts, but she loved it so much she couldn’t let it go. “I spent my entire student loan to print the first issue and fund a launch party, and it’s just grown from there,” she says.

Even as the magazine exploded, it has stayed true to its indie beginnings. “Because we’ve got such a high production value, people assume that we’ve got a massive budget behind us or secret investors,” says senior editor Gina Tonic, “but it’s not like that at all, it’s wholly independent. We’re still scrappy.” In fact, the secret to their visual prowess is thriftier than you’d imagine. “We have InDesign and we’re still on a student package, so we get it for cheaper,” laughs Gamble.

Polyester’s five-person team works out of a studio in Peckham, Southeast London. As you step in, you’ll see posters emblazoned “Pollywood”, green velour sofas, and tchotchkes on every surface. “It’s like a Nickelodeon set come to life. Colourful and bright - its not afraid of being feminine,” says Tonic. Each week, Gamble and Tonic record the Polyester Podcast in front of a mural by the artist Olivia Sterling. The painting shows a woman’s back with her thong sticking out of a denim mini skirt. She sits on a lit birthday cake, and the remnants of its pastel pink icing have formed the word “Polyester” on her butt.

Another skill that helps them stand out is catching stars just before they hit the stratosphere. Before superstars like Chappell Roan and Doechii became megastars, they’d already shot with Polyester. “For us, it’s just believing that people we like are good, whether they’re famous or not,” says Gamble. “Other magazines are so risk averse, which is why you see the same faces on every magazine. But because most of our shoots aren’t sponsored, we get to take that freedom.”

Remembering their shoot with OG YouTube sensation Trisha Paytas, Tonic says: “You see these people that you grew up with online and you separate that image from a real person. But Trisha just didn’t give a fuck, there was no hierarchy there,” she says. “She was wandering around with her top off, at lunch she just sat down and ate Domino’s with us on the floor and yapped.”

The last decade has seen many new media brands launch with fanfare, only to unceremoniously shut down soon after. Polyester is one of the few that’s weathered a tough publishing landscape. “I think a lot fail because they pursue growth above all else, whether that’s monetary or just engagement and reach,” says Gamble. “What we’ve done instead is try to slowly but surely nurture an engaged audience and a really tight community.”

Providing a physical space for their community to congregate has always been a goal for the magazine, and this mission has birthed their iconic parties. “It’s the best night of your life,” says Gamble, with only the wryest of smiles – “just people that have good clothes and better personalities”.

“It’s not just about drinking,” says Tonic, “it’s a whole production.” In past years, they’ve hosted parties in boxing rings, built fake bedrooms with bespoke karaoke machines, and lifesize graveyards. Their party with pop star Jade Thirwall featured a life-size bust of an outfit from her music video, made entirely from chiffon cake.

But even with such an engaged community, the life of an indie publication is never easy. The last decade has seen publications like Gal-dem and Broadly shut down, and although Polyester has avoided that fate, there’s an ever-present hum of anxiety that their fortunes could change. “The market is bloated, lots of magazines exist as vanity projects for the people that make them, and about 30 people in the industry read them. They soak up a lot of ad spend because they’re all mates with each other,” says Gamble.

It’s a testament to Polyester’s vision that even through a harsh environment for indie publishers, they’ve built an engaging, progressive, profitable media brand. So what do the next ten years have in store? “It feels bad to say more of the same, but that’s really how I feel. We really like ourselves, we like what we’re doing. We just need to find ways to reach a bigger audience and celebrate more people. That’s always the goal,” says Gamble.

Tonic smiles, “I’d just like some more competition.”

Afua Hirsch: “My role is to tell the bigger picture”

by Suki Dhanda

Afua Hirsch tells Alice Lambert and Clara Taylor about diving with Samuel L. Jackson, the culture wars, and putting Black women first

Photo

Afua Hirsch doesn’t have time for jet lag. Fresh off an 11-hour flight from LA to London, the human rights barrister-slash-journalist-slashauthor-slash-professor remains remarkably chipper.

Speaking to us from her LA home, there’s no tired shadows under her eyes despite not having a lick of makeup on her face. She sits on a grey sofa against a plain wall – the lack of decoration a clear nod to her semi-nomadic lifestyle during which she consistently travels between London and the US.

As we’re chatting, the Trump administration has kicked into high-gear and launched an affront on diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives across America, further entrenching the “culture war” in US politics. At the crux of this, lies a polarised media landscape where content from mainstream news organisations often reflect views that Hirsch says she “genuinely couldn’t have believed would exist 10 years ago”.

Determined to continue to tell stories often forgotten, Hirsch has had to diversify her tactics since the publication of her memoir Brit-ish, a blended account of history and her own lived experiences as a Black woman growing up in Britain. Now she is determined to reach wider audiences, from daredevil underwater stunts with a Hollywood superstar, to getting her first tattoo at 40 to showcase her Ghanaian ancestry.

In spite of the cultural backlash, Hirsch remains steadfast in her commitment to prioritising stories that centre on race and identity politics – a feat she has most recently achieved through her latest podcast, Legacy, which currently sits in the top ten history podcasts in the UK.

The show analyses the lives of some of history’s most famous figures to see if they deserve the reputation they’ve garnered. Co-hosted with Peter Frankopan, who brings a “geeky genius” to the discussion, the presenters describe themselves as polar opposites – as Hirsch puts it, a “counterintuitive, but a great pairing”, who hope to reveal deeper, unknown knowledge about their subjects. Despite pressures to be “successful and mainstream”, Hirsch believes that Legacy can break away from the algorithm: “The whole point is to also be educational, make people think or engage with things that they didn’t already know.”

discussing her blackness. “[The two sides of my background] were treated differently and it gave me an early appreciation that there was something amiss. Both sides of my family were from somewhere else and had another identity, but I felt one of those stories was socially acceptable to explore and talk about, and the other made people uncomfortable.”

She started her career in journalism as a way to satisfy the curiosity she had about her identity. Her first role was at The Voice [a paper dedicated to telling stories about the Black British community]. She smiles as she remembers finding “this community, this world where I could pursue journalism and tell stories that weren’t being told”.

Despite her pride in the stories she was beginning to tell, Hirsch noticed that her peers and even her family were sometimes uncomfortable that her work centred on the Black British experience: “I couldn’t understand why it wasn’t something people would be proud of, or celebrate, or support. Instead, it made people uncomfortable, again, for reasons that no one really could articulate or explain.”

Eventually, Hirsch found herself wanting to solve the issues, rather than just report on them, which led her to begin a career as a human rights barrister in 2006. “I’m always pursuing concreteness,” she explains. “One of the frustrations as a storyteller is that the most concrete thing you can do is find a language to verbalise things, or communicate it to others, but it can feel elusive. So that’s why I became a lawyer, I wanted teeth.”

“It’s not good enough to keep talking to people who already agree with me”

While proud of the work she’s done on the podcast, she wishes she could feature more Black women as the main subject of each episode. Unfortunately, Hirsch says: “It’s an unbelievably depressing reality that if you choose a Black woman as your main character for a podcast you will get lower numbers.” So far, only Cleopatra and Nina Simone feature on Legacy and Hirsch blames the cyclical nature of erasure for the lack of visibility of Black women in mainstream media. “People rewrite stories excluding these characters and so don’t believe they had a significant role.”

Hirsch is a calm and eloquent speaker during our conversation, but when we ask who would be her next subject choice without having to consider the numbers, she becomes extremely animated. “I want to talk about every Black woman who’s had a significant impact in history,” she says firmly.

Growing up in the 80s and 90s, Hirsch details that expressing her feelings about her identity, rooted in both African and German Jewish ancestry, was difficult. From an early age, she noticed a resistance to openly

In the end, Hirsch returned to journalism in 2008 as The Guardian’s legal correspondent, realising her “role is to tell the story about the big picture, rather than working on individual cases”. Although unplanned, her time as a lawyer gave her “an ideal avenue” back into journalism.

Despite its reputation as one of Britain’s more progressive publications, at the time, Hirsch was just “one of two Black women and maybe one of four Black people” at the paper. She labels The Guardian “unrecognisable” today and praises the progress it’s made. “There are many people reflecting different perspectives across the paper and the magazines, on podcasts, on video content. It’s changed so much”, she says.

But with improved representation in newsrooms, appetite for stories about race or identity seems to have waned. Six years on from the murder of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter movement, Hirsch believes the media’s ability to engage has significantly decreased. “Floyd’s murder demonstrated the capacity we have to engage in these issues and showed how people have this much headspace to think about race,” she muses. Hirsch now “questions the rest of the time where that consciousness is”.

Ideally, the need for activist journalists like Hirsch would be redundant and she’d “love to be out of job and there to be no demand” for her to write those kinds of stories. “There’s loads of other things I’d like to do,” she jokes. Yet in the last year, be it in “publishing, casting in movies or column inches, you can see how the appetite to engage has profoundly diminished”. And so the necessity persists.

Conscious not to preach to the echochamber, Hirsch doesn’t “find it good enough to keep talking to people who already agree [with her]” and challenges herself “to reach an audience that wouldn’t read a Guardian column

or watch a documentary”.

It is in pursuit of reaching wider audiences that led Hirsch to freedive on camera and tell a story underwater. The daring stunt formed part of her BBC Four documentary series, Enslaved, with Samuel L. Jackson, exploring enslavement and colonialism. “I knew people would watch a documentary that is basically a live action adventure with Samuel,” she says in earnest. She laughs: “It was literally so out of my comfort zone.”

Presenting her journalism in such a palatable way to engage those otherwise put off by her messaging can be frustrating but Hirsch insists she only views it as a challenge. This project, particularly, was intriguing as she felt like she had two different audiences to entertain. “There are the people who will watch a traditional documentary that would love it, but be confused why there was so much diving in it. But the other half [would think] it was the best documentary they’ve ever seen. Usually documentaries are so boring.”

Her most recent book, Decolonising My Body, was written with the same purpose in mind. “I wanted to write about tattoos and beauty and rituals and periods and sex, because the audience thinking about those things aren’t necessarily applying the kind of work I usually do about colonialism and cultural supremacy to more intimate areas.” Hirsch holds her hands up to the camera, showing us the intricate collection of stick and poke tattoos that extend from her wrist to the tip of her fingers, inspired by Akan ornamentation reflecting her Ghanaian ancestry. Her decision to centre her work around these topics “are the gaps that were stopping me gaining a deeper understanding of what a different world would look like,” she explains.

These new ways of storytelling are the aspects Hirsch loves most about being a journalist. “I will always have a perspective and an interest and there will always be stories that are changing and shifting or in new areas. The fact I can shape my work to come along on the journey is something I think is a huge privilege.”

She’s now graduated from documentaries and has, as we speak, started writing a scripted television show. She remains relatively tight-lipped on the contents of the show. We try to glean any further information but all she coyly admits is that it is based on a case from her time as a human rights barrister – yet another full circle moment for her.

Hollywood perhaps is just the place where Hirsch’s creativity can thrive. Bucking the “misconception that LA is a shallow TV deal city”, she encourages people to scratch below the surface of celebrity culture there. “It’s a deep and creative world,” she describes. The stunning geography of mountains, ocean and desert must help too.

Hirsch, however, didn’t seamlessly transition to living in LA. Born and raised in London, with her daughter still living there, she laughs as she tells us she “hated LA for the first three years” she lived there. “I kept trying to find the heart of the city and then I realised it’s not a city with a heart, it’s about 50 cities.” Her partner and daughter still live back in London, so Hirsch is still able to get her London fix as she travels between the continents.

The elephant in the room is, of course, the sizable cultural difference between Britain and LA. Where we are self-deprecating, they are proud and despite

Top: Hirsch with Legacy co star Peter Frankopan Middle: Filming Enslaved with Samuel L. Jackson

Bottom: Hirsch on the Baftas red carpet with Naomie Harris

Photos provied by Afua Hirsch

Photos by Henry Gill

“It’s unbelievably depressing that if you choose a Black woman as your main character, you will get lower numbers”

being a London girl, Hirsch has gladly embraced the “California mindset”. “It’s unapologetically big, global, and high budget. I have big ambitions for my work. I’m not supposed to be someone who this happens to. I feel like it’s subversive that I’m doing it which I love.”

Hirsch has also welcomed the great outdoors – hiking and running – as part of what she labels a push for “work life peace” – the peace you achieve “when you’re doing the things that you feel you’re meant to do, but you’re also taking care of yourself”. Hirsch credits a friend with the philosophy and teases: “Americans are great at slogans aren’t they.”

Looking forward, she is particularly excited to see the next generations of emerging Black British creatives. “I don’t know if I should say this, but I’m kind of astonished and pleasantly surprised that people still want to become journalists. The journalism landscape has completely transformed, and newer journalists require a completely different skill set now when stepping into the industry. Their energy, however, is inspiring to Hirsch. “I think young journalists are more comfortable with the creativity of working across platforms, creating different kinds of content and being very scrappy. They quickly tap into a moment and respond to things and use opportunities.”

Hirsch is not blind to the challenges young journalists will face entering, and is quick to remind us that she is “not painting [the industry] with rose-tinted lenses.” “It’s a hard path to choose,” but for Hirsch, one that will be gratifying. “I think the obstacles are greater [now], but the rewards are greater too.”

Stories in focus

Photographer Steve Forrest reveals to Flore Boitel how he navigates war zones and celebrity egos

For

penchant for

photojournalist Steve Forrest, his

adventure has been the catalyst to a successful career. Now, with 30 years of experience behind him, Forrest is reflecting on his career with an exhibition at the Warrington Museum near Manchester.

In 1993, Forrest worked in Gaza for six months, freelancing for the UN and Save the Children. While abroad covering foreign conflict, he stared death in the face more than once.

An Israeli soldier in Gaza threatened to shoot him dead if he didn’t move. The soldier tried to prevent Forrest from photographing the arrest of a Palestinian youth for burning tyres. “Before going to war I bought a very wide-angle lens, and if you look through it, the people look further away than they really are. So I carried on photographing for longer than I should have but at least I got the picture I wanted,” he laughs. The soldier punched him in the head, leaving a “nasty” bruise. “I can’t complain. They were trying to do their job, whether it’s right or wrong.”

From 1999 to 2000, the photographer covered the Badme War between Eritrea and Ethiopia. Forrest was sent to the Debre Bizen Monastery at the top of a mountain, 8,000 feet above sea level. The female journalist who was supposed to write the piece wasn’t allowed to go as no women (not even female animals) were allowed up there, and so he went himself to write and photograph the story. “I spent the night up there above the clouds, getting eaten by fleas and watching strange prayers.”

Forrest has to be ready for any mishaps on the job. While working for The New York Times, he was flown to Dublin to photograph U2. He thought he was only going to do a quick portrait but when he got there he was told he had to photograph them rehearsing. “I had my own private concert.” Lead singer Bono told him he’d taken enough shots after one song to which Forrest replied that he needed more time. “He said, ‘fair enough, we’ll do another couple of songs.’ I didn’t want to go to Dublin to only spend five minutes shooting,” Forrest explains. He was driven to the airport in a limousine so that he’d make his flight.

“Boris Johnson was entertaining, despite me disliking him and his politics,” he says. The shoot took place in March 2013, at the Greater London Council building. Forrest found him “polite and charming despite him being arrogant”. They were able to discuss the French Revolution while Forrest got his large camera out to shoot. “He said it was the worst thing that ever happened to France,” Forrest says. One of the photographer’s techniques is talking to the subject to keep them distracted and make them feel like they’re in control in order to get an authentic shot.

There are also celebrities he disliked working with, such as Harvey Weinstein, who is now convicted of multiple sex crimes.

The shoot took place in 2004, in a smart London hotel, where Weinstein was sitting on the bed looking preoccupied.

“He was unpleasant and rude.” After shooting the American film producer, the photographer told him it would only take him a couple of minutes to put his lighting away.

“He told me ‘No! I want you to do it outside.’ So I had to carry everything into the hallway and pack my bag,” he says.

After reading about the #MeToo movement, Forrest assumed that a woman was probably hiding in the bathroom.

During his time at the NYT, one memorable shoot was with Oscarwinner Natalie Portman.

“She was very interesting because I didn’t know who she was at the time but she was flirty which really threw me off and messed up my concentration. She said I had nice dimples,” Forrest says. The shoot was at the Covent Garden Hotel in London, to promote her 2004 romantic drama film Closer.

“We don’t want to take over the world. We don’t want growth at all costs. That’s precisely the kind of market we’re trying to get away from.”

Established in 2019, this independent cooperative media platform in New York, offers original content like essays, comics, and reviews. With 8,000 subscribers, Flaming Hydra magazine operates ad-free, prioritising memberdriven creativity, and allows

“We don’t have job titles. We just call ourselves cofounders and then make up titles as we go, depending on what we did that day. I did merchandise today, so right now I’m merchandise coordinator. Tomorrow I’ll be doing something completely different.”

In 2023, writers from Vice, The Washington Post and Kotaku formed Aftermath. This worker-owned site covers video games and internet culture free from the constraints of advertisers. Entirely reliant on reader subscriptions, Aftermath magazine delivers quality journalism in one uninterrupted experience.

BadEmployer Jail

“We’re at an impasse between the requirements of profit and of the public to be accurately informed. Flaming Hydra is a big demonstration of what’s possible when corporate power has unprecedented influence over how the public is informed.”

Splitting the winnings

As layoffs and corporate influence reshape journalism, Hannah Bentley and Mallory Legg explore how worker-owned publications are putting power back in the hands of writers

Illustrations and design by Diogo Lopes

Commuter Train

“I get calls and emails from journalists around the world interested in what we do and how we did it, and I respond to all of them because we need new media models. I’m proud that we have played our part in that.”

Larry Ryckman

Photos provided by Maria Bustillos, Luke Plunkett, Larry Ryckman, and Adobe Stock

Following major layoffs in the journalism industry, five journalists launched Hearing Things last October, allowing writers full creative freedom and fostering a countercultural approach to music coverage. The publication is still in its early stages but expanding.

HEARING THINGS

“As more people embrace this model, it’ll begin to work on a bigger scale. Somebody with a big platform and fierce reputation is going to get enough money to turn a worker-owned publication into something as large as Pitchfork or even Rolling Stone.”

FreedomCreative

It’s the 2020s, and there are major industry changes happening in journalism. For many, it’s not a good kind of change. At Pitchfork, features editors are being laid off. Meanwhile, Gawker is going down for billionaire-funded scandals. Journalists are being paid very little to write filtered work patrolled by aloof management. Pushed into a corner, many writers have been inspired to reimagine the industry, finding ways to write what they want on their own terms.

Meet the worker-owned journalism co-ops redefining the media landscape. In an industry dominated by corporate interests and ad revenue pressures, these independent collectives are reclaiming power for writers, prioritising authenticity over profit, and proving that journalism can thrive outside traditional hierarchies. From video games to politics and music, these co-ops are building sustainable alternatives – where journalists aren’t just employees, but owners.

Profit Point

DEFECTOR

2020 by former Deadspin staffers, a sports and culture blog. It prioritises employee decision-making and produces journalism driven by passion, not ad revenue. With 40,000 subscribers, Defector’s transparent model focuses on delivering authentic content.

“Everything you read on the site is there because somebody on staff was personally interested in what happened and actually wanted to write about it. We’re trying to avoid the content mill because in our previous career, we were writing stuff just to fill up the webpage.”

“We have a system where everyone has to be on at least one committee. There is wide group participation, and people are empowered and trusted to make decisions. The power is streamlined.”

“A free press is protected in the First Amendment to the Constitution – there was a reason for that. The Founding Fathers understood that a healthy democracy, a healthy society, depended on a watchdog that could hold the powerful accountable.”

The Colorado Sun was founded in 2018 by 10 journalists who left The Denver Post due to cutbacks and layoffs under its hedge fund ownership. Driven by a desire to create independent, communityfocused journalism, they launched as a nonprofit, journalist-owned news outlet.

The Colorado Sun

Dylan Green

TOM LEY

Trump’s got writers blocked

Revoked press passes. Attacks on the First Amendment. Tiago Ventura and Marissa Goursaud examine how Trump is breathing down the necks of US journalists

Before Donald Trump even stepped back into the Oval Office in January 2025, he had already declared war on the press.

Lawsuits, access bans, and editorial pressure on newsrooms signalled that his second term would be just as combative as his first. Yet, as journalists began reporting on the new administration, they realised Trump’s animosity towards the media had intensified exponentially.

Just weeks after being re-elected, Trump secured a £12 million defamation settlement from ABC News after its star anchor, George Stephanopoulos, falsely claimed he had been found “liable for rape”, whereas the returning president had only been found liable for “sexual abuse”.

Experts say ABC News could have fought the lawsuit, but this settlement underscores a growing reluctance among media giants to stand up to the White House.

The consequences soon became evident Immediately after securing this legal victory, an emboldened Trump proceeded to sue The Des Moines Register, a local newspaper in Iowa.

This lawsuit targeted the newspaper, its parent company, and pollster J. Ann Selzer for “brazen election interference” over a poll published just days before the 2024 presidential election.

Heidi Kitrosser, a law professor at Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law, argues this lawsuit “seeks to punish a newspaper and pollster for something that happens all the time in political polling – publishing an

outlier poll that turned out to be incorrect”.

“These lawsuits threaten to chill news organisations from engaging in ordinary reporting and editing practices if those practices might result in a story that Trump or his cronies dislike,” says Dr Kitrosser. “This threatens the very heart of our constitutional guarantees of speech and press freedoms.”

Revenge certainly appears to be a driving force behind Trump’s increasingly adversarial stance towards the press in his second administration.

Press pass denied

By February 2025, Trump had restricted access to the Associated Press (AP), barring its reporters from entering the Oval Office, Air Force One, and White House events.

“The administration made clear its policy by physically preventing our reporters from entering places where press events were taking place,” says David Bauder, the AP’s national media writer.

The AP, which has reported from the White House since 1913, was suddenly excluded from key press events after referring to the “Gulf of Mexico” instead of “Gulf of America”, a name Trump had introduced via executive order. The decision left the AP in a difficult position, as the internationally recognised name remained “Gulf of Mexico”, putting them at odds with both the administration and global reporting standards.

“The president and his team have explained their

provided by AP

Photos

reasoning both publicly and privately,” says Bauder. “Clearly, they feel strongly about ‘Gulf of America’ and recognise AP’s role in influencing style and word usage across the industry. How this ends? That’s anyone’s guess right now.”

Bauder also warns that Trump’s “administration is gutting” the FOI office at the Department of Justice. This move severely restricts access to government records, increasing secrecy around public spending.

New media, new problems

as the White House leans towards independent media organisations, the journalist-source relationship is bound to change.

The Trump administration announced that it will now select which media outlets are allowed into the presidential press pool, suggesting a move towards smaller, independent organisations. Traditionally, this selection has been managed by the White House Correspondents’ Association (WHCA) to ensure impartiality, regardless of who is in office. Trump’s team, however, has taken direct control, raising concerns about the credentials of selected reporters.

White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt defended the decision, claiming it was intended to “embrace new media”. However, the WHCA condemned it as anti-democratic, warning that it allows the administration to dictate who is able to cover the presidency.

Axios, one of these new media organisations, was founded by former Politico editors in 2017. They have begun receiving priority questioning at White House press briefings following the exclusion of legacy media outlets.

Nicholas Johnston, a news reporter for Axios, says the audience will need to be more responsible. “It’s important for news consumers to interrogate their sources, to learn about how media organisations cover the news and report fairly and factually,” he insists.

Source protection and leaks

on Truth Social, Trump’s own social media platform, the president explicitly stated that it will crack down on government leakers. Caitlin Vogus, a senior advisor for the Freedom of the Press Foundation, stresses that this is a serious concern.

Vogus explains that after leaving office the first time, it was revealed that “Trump’s administration had filed legal orders to obtain records from journalists at The New York Times, The Washington Post, and CNN, who were likely to identify their sources.”

“Abuse, threats, and intimidation are diversesilencingvoices”

Now, the Trump administration is openly targeting leakers. “If the government prosecutes leakers, demands journalists’ emails, phone records, or compels them to testify against their sources under threat of jail time, this will undoubtedly have consequences,” says Vogus.

“The chilling effect on sources will inevitably reduce the amount of information reaching the public. “It’s about ensuring that people have the information they need to hold their government accountable.”

The Freedom of the Press Foundation urges journalists to prioritise digital security when communicating with sources in both government and private companies. “We have also seen private companies targeting whistleblowers who may be in sensitive situations,” warns Vogus.

Now what?

Beyond lawsuits and press access restrictions, Trump’s administration has escalated broader efforts to control the flow of information. PEN America, an organisation that has defended free expression for over a century, has linked increasing censorship and book bans to Trump’s push against press freedom.

To counter these threats, PEN America advises journalists to take preemptive security measures, such as multi-factor authentication for their most confidential information.

Viktoryia Vilk from PEN America warns that “online abuse, threats, and intimidation tactics are being used to silence diverse voices in journalism and push them out of the industry altogether”.

Trump’s return has truly shaken the media landscape. It’s no longer just about fiery tweets, it’s about lawsuits, access blockages, and source protection risks. Journalists and media outlets must stay resilient, as The Washington Post – recently at the heart of a storm over political bias itself – warns: “Democracy dies in darkness.”

First they came for the cartoonists

Ann Telnaes speaks with Rob Corsini about the image that triggered her resignation from The Washington Post, and the cartoonist’s role as the bellwether of press freedoms

Afew days before Christmas, Ann Telnaes submitted a cartoon to her editor. Ahead of Donald Trump’s inauguration, the image featured a group of powerful men prostrating themselves in front of an oversized statue of the incoming president, offering him bags of cash.

More specifically, the cartoon took aim at five figures who were seen to be currying Trump’s favour. Two were tech billionaires – Meta’s Mark Zuckerberg and OpenAI’s Sam Altman. One was the mascot of a media conglomerate – Disney’s Mickey Mouse. And the final two were owners of some of the largest newspapers in the United States – Los Angeles Times’ Park SoonShiong and The Washington Post’s Jeff Bezos.

A veteran cartoonist who has worked at The Washington Post for seventeen years, Telnaes won the Pulitzer Prize in 2001 and received the Reuben Award in 2016, cartooning’s highest accolade. Telnaes was used to receiving edits, some of which could kill a drawing.

But when Telnaes submitted this cartoon she received a new kind of criticism. It wasn’t about her cartoon, it was about the person it was aimed at – Jeff Bezos.

Although receiving edits to a cartoon is a facet of the job, Telnaes knew that this signalled a change. “I believe editorial cartoons continue to be essential for democracy and an early warning light when the free press is being threatened,” she says. Telnaes knew this was more than an edit, it was a suppression of her power as a cartoonist.

“I’ve never had a cartoon killed because of who or what I chose to aim my pen at,” Telnaes wrote, responding in a public statement. Less than two weeks later, in the first week of 2025, Telnaes resigned from The Washington Post.

Cartoonists from across America rushed to her support, responding to her resignation with drawings of their own. The New Yorker contributor Barry Blitt showed Bezos climbing a ladder to kiss a statue of Trump’s behind; USA Today’s Marc Murphy showed Trump walking a puppy with Bezos’ face; and New Haven Independent’s Ted Littleford showed an Amazon box being lowered into a grave that’s headstone wrote ‘RIP Washington Post’. The AAEC’s statement on Telnaes departure stated: “We weep for the loss of this once great newspaper.”

Telnaes’ resignation is just one example of how cartoonists are being silenced around the world. From governmental persecution and police intimidation, to editorial suppression and social media bans, cartoonists are facing an increasingly hostile environment for their images. Telnaes believes that this is one of the precursors to the erosion of press freedom.

To Telnaes, the role of the cartoonist is to expose the injustices and abuses of those who hold power and it is because of this that they are often targeted by governments. Press freedoms NGO Reporters Without Borders have said that the two key ways that countries silence cartoonists are prosecution and censorship. Telnaes believes this is because of their use of imagery as a primary language. She explains: “Everyone can relate to and be affected by them – and autocrats are notorious for their lack of humour and thin skins.”

As Trump’s first term approached, the fear of censorship began to take hold of media organisations in the US. Telnaes’ tenure as president of the AAEC took place during the first year of Trump’s first presidency and she was immediately worried that cartooning would fall in his line of fire. This didn’t come to pass, which stumped Telnaes until she realised: “Trump doesn’t read, he watches TV. That’s why in his early first term he was

obsessed with the latest Saturday Night Live episodes and how they satirised him.”

Although cartoonists didn’t face increased legislative pressure, Telnaes quickly understood that Trump’s power could be enforced in other ways. “I think editorial cartoonists as well as satirists should worry about being sued,” she says, “not only is litigation Trump’s modus operandi, his sycophants will now follow his lead.”

While state and legal pressure is an issue for cartoonists, the past decade has seen another existential threat emerge – editorial suppression from within. In 2018, during Trump’s first term, cartoonist Rob Rogers was fired from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette after publisher John Robinson Block refused to print six of Rogers’ cartoons critiquing Trump.

“The press is always endangered when owners value profit over integrity”

Rogers’ firing exemplified another way that the power of an authoritarian president could be enacted. “[Trump] hadn’t orchestrated this abuse of journalistic integrity. He didn’t have to; there were others willing to do it for him,” wrote Telnaes at the time.

Editorial suppression is an increasingly common issue as news organisations have been bought by billionaires, with their own personal agendas. “The free press is always endangered when news media owners value profits over journalistic integrity,” says Telnaes.

Alongside Bezos’ takeover of The Washington Post, outlets including The Boston Globe, The Minnesota Star Tribune, Los Angeles Times, Las Vegas Review-Journal, The Atlantic, Time, and Fortune have all been purchased by billionaires since the turn of the century.

While billionaire ownership doesn’t necessitate editorial suppression, when news organisations are controlled by an individual, the potential for autocratic control exists. “When Jeff Bezos first acquired The Washington Post he invested money into the paper and seemed to be hands off editorially,” says Telnaes.

But Bezos’ intentions shifted in the lead up to Trump’s re-election. One week before last year’s election, The Washington Post announced it would no longer endorse presidential candidates as it had done since 1976. In February, Bezos announced changes to the paper’s opinion section which saw views opposing the defence of personal liberties and free markets banned from the paper’s pages. Marty Baron, The Post’s previous editor, described the change as a “betrayal of free expression”.

While Bezos has owned the paper for 12 years, The Washington Post’s history is much longer. But Telnaes believes a billionaire owner still has the power to deeply change a company – her question is not if they can, but how much. “I think as we’ve seen in the last couple of months, a great deal,” says Telnaes. “The hiring of former [Rupert] Murdoch editors, his decision not to endorse a presidential candidate, and his planned changes for the opinion pages have all contributed. The reputation of The Washington Post has been damaged.”

For cartoonists then, or any journalist trying to seek truth to power, a question must exist – how can we dismantle the tools of power if we are controlled by them? For Telnaes it is a clear choice. “Journalists have to decide for themselves what their line is. For me it was the realisation that I couldn’t do my best work anymore if I continued at The Washington Post.”

Behind the sharp and restless mind lies a man shaped by profound events. Will Lewallen and Katie Inglis discuss the stories that shaped him

Nicky RadioCampbell: 5’s

live wire opens up

Photo provided by BBC

The unmistakable voice of BBC Radio 5 Live’s “Voice of the UK” cuts through the hum of the room before he even sits down. That familiar, expressive tone – laced with a slight Scottish lilt – belongs to Nicky Campbell, a veteran of British broadcasting. Ordering a soy latte with the ease of someone who has spent a lifetime commanding airwaves, he launches straight into conversation about his latest project – a new podcast, Don’t Say a Word. (“That’s the name of the podcast,” he reassures us. “I’m not swearing you to secrecy.”)

Fifteen floors above Marylebone, at the Madera restaurant, Campbell gazes out at the city sprawled behind us, the sky a perfect spring blue. He is dressed sharply in a red three-quarter zip jumper layered over a bright blue shirt – the familiar uniform of the working man. We tumble into conversation, as if we’ve met before.

Arriving early, Campbell comes straight from his morning phone-in programme, which he has hosted on BBC Radio 5 Live since 2021. Before this, he spent 18 years co-presenting the station’s flagship breakfast show, where his no-nonsense approach made him a cornerstone of British morning radio. Today’s agenda? The US withdrawal from Ukraine, and the debate over whether Elon Musk should be stripped of his fellowship at the Royal Society.

“You get lost in the zone. It’s almost like you forget you’re on the radio,” Campbell says of engaging with callers.

“When I’m talking to them, I’m in a complete bubble. You become absorbed in it, you get sucked in.”

His show, which airs weekday mornings from nine to eleven, must go on even when he doesn’t feel “in the zone”. On these mornings, Campbell admits, “sometimes, at one minute to nine, I’m thinking, ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ ‘Why am I here?’” He pauses before adding, “not in an existential way, though.” But the moment the clock strikes nine and he leans into the mic with his signature “Good morning,” the doubt vanishes.

Ever the seasoned broadcaster, Campbell shares a handy trick for interviewing an author when there’s no time to wade through all 335 pages of their book. “Open it towards the end – say, page 220 – read that section, and then say, ‘You say in your book (on page 220)…’” He grins. “It makes them feel good. There are plenty of little tricks like that when you’re interviewing.”

Throughout our conversation, Campbell absentmindedly doodles on the notepad in front of him – scribbling words before he says them, sketching out ideas as they take shape. It’s a revealing glimpse into a mind constantly in motion, brimming with thoughts that seem to spill onto the page as quickly as they form. Watching him shift gears is almost dizzying; he bounces effortlessly from one topic to the next, barely pausing for breath. With his natural storytelling instincts and magnetic presence, it’s no surprise he has carved out such a successful career.

Having joined BBC Radio 1 in 1987, Campbell is well versed in the art of treading the fine line between political and personal neutrality. When asked whether it’s ever difficult to maintain impartiality while hosting his phoneins, Campbell is unwavering. He sees impartiality as both a “professional” and “moral duty”, a core principle of the BBC: to listen to and fairly represent all sides.

“I take pride in it,” he says, admitting that he relishes the moments when he’s criticised for supposedly holding an opinion that, in reality, is “diametrically opposed to my own”. “I love it,” he says. “I love it because it means I’m doing my job right.”

“I’m so lucky to have a mind that moves quickly. But I can’t change the f*cking plug”

Language has always been central to Campbell’s career, and Don’t Say a Word, which is due to be released in May, delves even deeper into its power. The show will explore the ever-evolving boundaries of language, culture, and what is considered acceptable in today’s society.

“It’s all gone,” he says. “[The phone-ins] can be quite performative. You’re not manipulating or even manufacturing, but more leaving the gaps, making it happen, and creating radio moments.”

While a degree of preparation goes into each show – Campbell arrives at work at 7.15am to “speed read” the morning’s headlines – much of it unfolds live on air.

“When the red light’s on, that’s when it really happens,” he says. “You’ve got to react in the moment.”

For Campbell, this fast-paced environment feels like second nature. Three years ago, at the age of 60, Campbell was diagnosed with ADHD, and now describes himself as a “square peg in a square hole”. He recalls how his doctor even congratulated him when he was first diagnosed, affirming what he already knew: his brain was built for this. “I’m so lucky to have a mind that moves quickly, but I can’t change the fucking plug,” he says. “I can tune into everything that’s happening at once,” he adds, shrugging. “People ask, ‘how do you keep track of all these callers, all these conversations?’ It’s just what you’re good at.”

“It’s a mark of a progressive, liberal society that we think about things as properly as ever,” Campbell says of the podcast, which will see him and his guests tackle controversial topics, questioning who gets to decide what can and can’t be said.

“We make allowances for certain people,” he says. “Take Roald Dahl. He’s deeply loved, a huge part of people’s childhoods; he was also a vile antisemite. If someone else had said the same things without that legacy, they wouldn’t have the time of day. And there are examples of that right across the board.”

The question of who gets held to account – and who doesn’t – is one that Campbell has grappled with in a far more personal way. In 2022 he shook the airwave after revealing, live on his phone-in show, that he was sexually and physically abused at the Edinburgh Academy, then a private boys’ boarding school, in the 1970s.

This personal revelation led to a much larger national conversation, and three years later, it is the seed at the heart of another recent podcast from Campbell. How Boarding Schools Shaped Britain, released in February of this year, examines how these age-old institutions moulded our country’s leaders, for better and for worse, and the

trauma they inflicted on so many young men. The show represents the end of a monumental three-year saga where Campbell found himself as the subject of the news rather than a reporter.

What followed the pivotal phone-in was a cascade of other victims reaching out, testimonies in court, and months of sleeping tablets. “It was an extraordinary time, an extraordinary sense of solidarity, life-changing,” says the Scot, in his fading accent, “but not without cost.”

Right from the moment we sat down, Campbell was open, imploring us to go with “anything we want to ask”. By his own admission, he is “quite practised” in talking about these topics. At times, it feels like Campbell is reciting a well rehearsed script, uttering phrases that he has used regularly throughout the last few years on various podcasts since airing the allegations – “it was like someone had told the grownups”. It’s as though years of leaden weight are being lifted from his shoulders.

This isn’t surprising. Campbell has become something of a conduit, a lightning rod, through which other people have been able to speak about their experiences for the first time. “A lot of stuff has been coming through me the last few years. I’ve been speaking to people [about their abuse] and I’m not trained to do that. It’s been, really, really tiring.”

In 2022, after he first went public about the abuse he suffered at the hands of one former teacher, Hamish Dawson (who was already dead), he opened up the lines inviting callers to discuss their experiences for the first time. Campbell still receives emails regularly from schoolmates and strangers, some of whom go on to become friends, others he never hears from again; he accepts that whilst some people “want to go there”, others don’t.

He finds it energising. “You’re talking, you’re lifting burdens,” he says, the pace of his voice increasing, “you’re energised by the fact that you’re pointing people in the right direction.”

It was not his intention to start a campaign, Campbell says, when he first spoke about it on air. Rather, it was a story, like any other, that needed to be told. Campbell’s initial focus wasn’t on his own alleged abuser Dawson, but on another former teacher, Iain Wares. (Wares has denied the accusations from former pupils and now faces extradition from South Africa.)

“I didn’t suffer from his sexual abuse, though I saw it in very close quarters,” Campbell says, gesturing to the metre of space between us. “As a journalist, I saw that happening, I witnessed it,” he further alleges. “I had a kind of journalistic focus and

“It’s heinous thatillegalitywrecks lives”

I still have that objectivity.”

The troubling fact, however, is that Campbell was no seasoned journalist at the time, but a small boy. In all the years since the alleged crimes, Campbell had only really discussed it with his wife until he heard journalist Alex Renton’s 2022 podcast In Dark Corners, which shone a light on abuse in elite schools including the Edinburgh Academy. Renton’s storytelling unlocked something for Campbell, and then, shouldering the duty bestowed upon him by his microphone, he told a story that would open up dark corners in the hearts of men up and down the country.

“It’s the power of being able to communicate stuff to people. I was just in a position where I had a microphone. That’s the power of radio.” Campbell also considers whether he used his show as a “Trojan Horse” for his feelings. “I’ve only thought about it like that just now for the first time,” Campbell says, seemingly computing this in real time.

Sat in the chair, about to go live, Campbell hadn’t fully considered, consciously at least, the Pandora’s box he was about to open. “I was about to say, ‘I need to speak to you about stuff that happened in school,’” the words clearly cemented firmly into his mind, but it wasn’t until the name of his abuser left his lips that he realised “that this was actually about what I went through, and this was going to become significant.” Nevertheless, he felt, maybe rightly so, that in order to ask callers to share their experiences, he had to discuss something he had also never shared.

The years since have been complicated, with each moment of connection stirring up something new. For an episode of his podcast Different, Campbell sat down with Jenny Pearson, Dawson’s daughter, for a conversation that was as emotional as it was profound, earning a nomination for Radio Times Moment of the Year. “She

“Was it my fault? Did I putinmyself that situation?”

carried a great deal of baggage herself from her parents,” he recalls. “I came out of [the conversation], rang up a friend [at] about one o’clock,” he says, laughing, “and said, ‘Can we get pissed?’”

Technically, this was not the first time Campbell had gone public about the abuse he suffered. His 2004 book, Blue-Eyed Son: The Story of an Adoption, traces the journey to Ireland to track down his birth mother, Stella Lackey, who fled to Edinburgh, pregnant and unmarried. Frank and Sheila Campbell adopted baby Nicky nine days later. Campbell devoted just a page to the abuse he suffered at school but “nobody took a blind bit of notice”. Readers skim over a page like a second in a day; it isn’t enough to digest the enormity of what happened.

Then, there’s the shame. “Was it my fault? Did I put myself in that situation? Why was I lying on his lap? That sort of victim blaming can be self-blaming as well when you’re a little boy.” Campbell talks about how some people prefer the term “survivors”. He scrawls down the words “victim” and “survivor” in black ink in his notebook, looking down at the page, circling each one frantically.

“[It] has an effect on you, ongoing in lots of ways, some of which are quite deep.” One shouldn’t create a hierarchy of abuse – this is something Campbell knows – but he views himself as fortunate. There were “incidents”, but as a day pupil he avoided the “industrialisation” of abuse that his peers in the boarding houses experienced.

heinous, absolute illegality that wrecks lives,” the passion breaking through his voice before he reins himself back in, as he explains that the BBC were incredibly careful to double check their legal position before broadcasting. This degree of restraint is not always easy to accept. “It was frustrating [not naming some abusers], because I saw it, I saw it, I fucking saw it,” he says, the 60-year-old opposite us transforming just for a second into that terrified little boy. Despite its flaws and a blur of changes over the decades, Campbell thinks the fundamentals of the BBC remain the

“It’s a hostage to fortune, the BBC treads very difficult lines on that”

same: good journalism, honesty, and integrity. “I think authenticity is what we strive for, and sometimes achieve,” he says.

One gets the feeling that the BBC holds a place close to the broadcaster’s heart. Though he encourages open questions, when we ask about the future of this national behemoth, Campbell is guarded. He wonders how long the licence model will last, he worries what would no longer be programmed with a subscription model, but ultimately, “it’s, it’s not for me to say,” he stutters. “I’m proud of the BBC, if you want “impartial”, it is as good as it gets.”

Campbell insists that when he and his colleagues walk into their editorial meetings, everyone “drops their opinions at the door”. There are, he admits, difficult topics, the situation in the Middle East being one issue which has caused the BBC trouble of late. “It’s a really difficult one, anyone who says it’s not complicated…” he trails off. “It’s a hostage to fortune, the BBC treads very difficult lines on that.”

After commanding the BBC airwaves in the morning, Campbell isn’t one to spend his afternoons with his feet up – that’s just not his style. Alongside preparing Don’t Say a Word, Campbell’s day is set to be packed, matching his boundless energy. Today, he plans to write, compose music – something he finds “very relaxing” – and juggle a few personal projects. “I’m writing a speech for my wife’s [Christina Ritchie, also a journalist] 60th,” he says, “and also creating a game show with my daughter, who works in television.” His four daughters, all in their twenties, keep him busy, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I always have something to do,” he says, clearly thriving on the rhythmic chaos of it all.

Back in the restaurant, as our 90-minute conversation winds down, Campbell seems to be tiring and snaps his notebook shut, slipping it into his leather satchel, his pages of scribbles and profound thoughts disguised as idle doodles. Rising from the table, he booms a cheerful “thank you” to the staff, flashing a broad smile and offering a theatrical wave. As we descend in the lift, heading back to the busy streets, Campbell pulls out his phone, instantly locked onto a new task, another idea demanding his attention.

Before stepping into the warm March afternoon, Campbell lingers in the foyer to thank the staff once more. He shakes our hands and then pauses, as if to say something, before spinning on his heels, off to follow his next train of thought.

by

Photos provided

Nicky Campbell

These shoes are made for writing

From interviewing music legends to covering stories at a construction site, Maria Vieira takes a peek in the shoe racks of journalists

Feature writer for The Times

It very much depends on the circumstances. Nine times out of ten, I’ll go for something flat or flattish. You never quite know if you’ll end up walking several miles, or at the very least, standing for several hours, so you’ve got to be prepared. But equally you need to feel good, and if you’re interviewing (which I usually am) you do need to impress your subject.

Currently I like loafers, because they’re very cool and very comfy. Formal

Sophie Arundel Staff writer at The Drinks Business

I usually wear a pair of Adidas Sambas or Gazelles (I have a few colours).

Rachel Tashjian

Fashion critic for The Washington Post

I never wear sneakers but require comfortable shoes. My most worn shoes are probably the Church’s Shannon brogue, which go with skirts and trousers, look beautiful and hit the ground with an incredibly elegant soft clomp. You can wear them in the summer and spring with white and pastels, and look a bit punk.

but fashionable. I’ve got a new pair from Sebago in a burgundy I really love.

My last interview was all about socks.I went to Lenny Kravitz’s house in Paris to interview him. While I was doing research, I read another journalist talking about how he’d had to take his shoes off at the front door, so I knew my socks would be crucial. I went for some from Uniqlo with a Fair Isle pattern following careful consideration.

They’re comfortable, not overly casual, and go with literally everything. Even though they may be a bit basic nowadays, they’re a classic, and you really can’t go wrong with them.

Photos provided by Sophie Arundel and Rachel Tashjian

Film Festival, classic Gucci loafers and Adidas x Gucci gazelles. I love a statement shoe, and, for a lack of a

Eoghan O’Donnell

Digital editorial / production coordinator at Vogue

A sure-fire way of combating office drudgery is through a statement shoe. My penny loafers from Duke and Dexter are sleek enough to carry me into any boardroom, and snazzy enough to start a conversation with even the quietest of colleagues. Plus, they come at the recommendation of GQ’s fashion editor - meaning there is no room for doubt.

and content editor at Mob Kitchen

I wear Blundstone #510 Black. I wear them everyday and everywhere. They’re sturdy and comfortable. The fact I can throw them on and pull them off without having to bother with laces (or velcro, don’t judge) is a definite benefit. They’re worn by Australian farmers a lot, and if that’s not a sign of a good boot, then I don’t know what is.

My go-to shoes are Dr Martens Reeders, which I bought for £40 at an outlet. They’re both my work shoes and my out-of-work shoes because they’re comfortable and go with everything. I don’t have a ton of money to spend on shoes and they work for both my life as a journalist and outside the workplace. have had these for a year and a half now – they squeak and one of the soles is broken. As a construction journalist, I am lucky I do not have to dress formally. I’ll scrub up to meet someone important, but I can get away with jumpers and jeans most days. I like DMs because they’re practical and work with everything. They’re not so different from what I wear on construction sites, which are DeWalt boots.

Charlotte Banks Features editor at Construction News

Kat Lister

The fight for Māori journalism

As New Zealand

media sidelines

Indigenous voices, Romy Journee speaks to those battling for space

In 1840, the most influential document in New Zealand’s history was created: Te Tiriti o Waitangi. “Derek Fox, the first presenter of Te Karere (a Māori news programme), used to have an adage that you only ever see Māori on the front page in New Zealand if it’s mad, bad, or sad,” says Jamie Tahana, a freelance Māori journalist based in London. “I do think that attitude still largely prevails in New Zealand media.”

In November last year, a clip of Te Pāti Māori MP, Hana-Rāwhiti Maipi-Clarke, ripping up a proposed bill and performing a haka in parliament went viral worldwide. The legislation – the Treaty Principles Bill –once again seeks to redefine the principles established in Te Tiriti o Waitangi (the Treaty of Waitangi).

The treaty, signed in 1840, is the most influential in New Zealand’s history. It established a political partnership between the British Crown and Māori, enabling British settlement and governance while protecting Māori land and culture. Of all the protections it claimed to offer Māori, the promise of preserving their language was one that meant autonomy – the ability to communicate and tell stories within their own communities. Despite this, Te Tiriti itself was lost in translation, with British officials viewed by contemporary critics as purposefully mistranslating key terms in an attempt to convince Māori chiefs of its benefits.

For decades, Māori media has played a critical role

in revitalising the language (which was only made an official New Zealand language in 1987), and providing a platform for indigenous storytelling. Now, in the face of these threats to Te Tiriti and a growing media instability, Māori journalism stands at a crossroads. Once a home for telling stories sidelined by mainstream news outlets, it is now under increasing pressure from funding cuts, political hostility, and the challenges of adapting in a rapidly evolving digital era. As public broadcasters scale back and government support wavers, questions arise as to whether Māori media can continue to serve its critical role, or risk being erased entirely.

“Māori media has always been under-resourced and small compared to other media,” says Tahana. “It has always run on the smell of an oily rag. But in the past year, it’s taken a worrying turn.”

The political landscape

Since coming back into power in November 2023, New Zealand’s leading centre-right party, National, have overseen some of the biggest cuts to public service journalism in history. After scrapping the $25 million (£11.1 million) Public Interest Journalism Fund set up by Labour and axing the proposed merger of leading media bodies TVNZ and Radio New Zealand (RNZ), the government turned their backs while one of the country’s leading news services, Newshub, was shut down by their parent company, Warner Bros. Discovery. Despite never

Thousands protested the Treaty Principles Bill outside parliament in November 2024

Photo provided by AP

receiving direct funding from government, the lack of any assistance to help Newshub and the 300 staff members laid off sent shock waves around the country – a clear indicator of the Nationals disdain for public broadcasting.

Auckland University of Technology (AUT)’s annual ‘Trust in News in Aotearoa NZ’ report found that trust in journalism fell from 42 per cent to 33 per cent in 2024. This erosion of trust has coincided with a rise in political polarisation – trends that have disproportionately impacted Māori communities. An insular country both geographically and socially, New Zealand is no stranger to racism, but right-wing forums and social media echo chambers have fueled antiMāori sentiment, often going unchecked by both the government and mainstream media. The debate over the Treaty Principles Bill has sparked fierce opposition to Māori rights and protections, leading to some of the biggest protests seen in the country’s history.

Maori-language journalism

Māori-language and Māori-interest news and current affairs are funded by the state under its treaty obligations. While it doesn’t face the same commercial pressures as mainstream journalism, it is primarily funded for language revitalisation, not the integrity of its reporting.

This funding model is not only precarious, facing unique pressures amidst growing hostility at ‘privileges’ awarded to Māori, but detracts from Māori journalists’ abilities to craft compelling stories like their Pakeha (white New Zealander) counterparts.

Dr Atakohu Middleton is a Māori journalism academic who writes the Māori section of the country’s annual Media Ownership report. “Because Māori journalism is funded for language outcomes, not journalism per se, they have to try and get Māori speakers as much as possible,” she explains. “If you can get the language ability and subject matter expertise in the same person, that’s wonderful. But often, you’ve got an expert who only speaks English or a bit of Māori. They have to balance the language issue.”

Unlike outlets like TVNZ and RNZ, which receive automatic public funding for journalism, the majority of Māori newsrooms must compete for contestable funding each year. This comes from Te Māngai Pāho (TMP), the Crown entity responsible for financially supporting Māorilanguage programming.

In her latest Media Ownership report, Dr Middleton notes that, “There were 18 proposals made to TMP, seeking a total of $20.5 million for the 2025 calendar year; seven were approved by assessors.” The report found that this fragmented funding model can result in competition between Māori media providers, restricting the ability for a unified, well-supported media system that can withstand growing challenges.

“Unfortunately, too many people are engaging in patch protection (seeking to protect themselves),” Dr Middleton explains.

“I don’t think this fragmentation actually helps safeguard public money or necessarily delivers what the public needs.” Without less competitive infrastructure, Māori journalism can only focus on staying afloat rather than growing and developing.

“It’s tough to make a living of feature writing about Māori issues,” says Tahana. “We’ve lost spaces like Mana Magazine that once existed for Māori storytelling, and there’s a real gap now.”

Beyond TMP’s contestable funding, Whakaata Māori (Māori Television) is bulk-funded by Te Puni Kōkiri (TPK), the Ministry for Māori Development. Dr Middleton’s report revealed that this funding has not increased in real terms since 2008, despite rising digital production costs.

Tahana describes Māori media funding for organisations like Whakaata Māori as a “straight-jacket”, only allowing outlets to function as traditional TV news outlets and restricting the necessary growth needed to survive in the digital era.

Whakaata Māori’s CEO Shane Taurima noted in 2024 that had its baseline funding increased in line with inflation, it would have reached $55 million (£24.4 million) per year – more than enough to cover its current cost base. Instead, with no meaningful increases, the organisation recently cancelled its flagship daily news bulletin and cut 27 staff.

Going digital

Te Māngai Pāho CEO Larry Parr has openly stated that TMP wants to move away from traditional broadcast formats, arguing that Māori audiences – particularly younger generations – are no longer watching linear TV in significant enough numbers to justify allocating limited funding to it.

“We want to be where our Māori audiences are,” he says. “We’re spending all this money on linear television, and it impedes our capacity to reach Māori audiences.”

The transition to digital poses financial and structural challenges for any news outlet, but especially for Māori outlets whose funding originates from a place of language dissemination via broadcasting. Shifting to a digital-first approach requires new technology, investment, and revisions to funding legislation – something the government is not interested in assisting with.

“Just as they’re being told they have to move into the digital era, they’re not getting any money to do it,” says Dr Middleton. “[On Whakaata Māori’s cuts] Some of those staff they’ve let go are journalists, and I have noticed that the news platform is not where it needs to be. The quality of journalism has declined and the amount of journalism has declined.”

Tahana has a similar view.

“Some of the digital storytelling coming through is excellent, but not journalism per se,” he says.

“I’m not sure we’re seeing the same degree of rigor or investigative journalism. I worry that we’re getting a lot of content, but how much of that is interrogating politicians or

Atakohu Middleton

putting the Information Act requests in and seeing what is being done in our name.”

This transition to digital doesn’t entail poorer quality journalism, but a draining funding pot is prohibiting Māori journalism from being multifaceted. It pigeonholes many journalists into symbolic roles that fulfil the bare minimum of Te Tiriti’s principles – whatever medium this happens to occupy.

A global fight for journalismIndigenous

The struggle for Māori journalism is not an isolated one. Around the world, Indigenous media faces similar battles –fighting for funding, visibility, and the right to tell their own stories.

When Indigenous media is underfunded, voices disappear and communities lose a vital tool for self-determination. Both Tahana and Rowe have a range of stories that have stuck with them and inspired them to persist.

“We did a big feature on the Olympics – there were a dozen Indigenous athletes in the Olympic team,” says Rowe. “It was nice to show that Indigenous people are really making their mark. There’s Indigenous politicians achieving things that people years ago could have only dreamt of. I like to run stories that highlight injustices, but I also like to see positive stories.”

“Being able to tell those stories as they try to get redress for centuries of injustice lingers with you”

Across the pond, Peter Rowe is the Editor of Indigenous Business News, which reports stories from isolated Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities in Australia.

“It takes a while for communities to get to know you and to trust you to tell their stories. We’ve still got a long way to go, but there aren’t enough resources,” he says. “There’s a lot of tokenistic support. But we hear these stories of 30 million a year, or whatever the numbers are in Aboriginal Affairs. We’re yet to see a dollar.”

In Wales, government funding for Welsh-language publishing has dropped by 40 per cent in real terms over the past decade (Books Council for Wales, 2024). Similarly, over 40 Irish-language and Gaeltacht groups recently initiated a half-day strike to protest significant funding cuts to language development initiatives (Irish News, 2025).

“There are vested interests who will oppose it, but the need for a unified strategy is clear,” says Mr Parr, acknowledging resistance to structural reform.

Tahana has been able to do features around the first Matariki public holiday (Māori lunar new year), and was able to go to Parihaka for their Puanga Kai Rau celebration (festival focusing on culture and the arts; the peaceful Māori settlement of Parihaka was destroyed by Pakeha troops in 1881).

“You go to these sites of marae (sacred meeting houses) and communities where the burden of history still sits so heavily on their shoulders. Being able to tell those stories as they try to get redress for centuries of injustice lingers with you. To try and give justice to their korero (stories) really is the most rewarding aspect.”

Māori journalism has always been about more than just news. It’s a cornerstone of language revitalisation and cultural representation. But as New Zealand’s media landscape shifts, less funding means fewer in-depth investigations, fewer Māori voices in reporting, and fewer opportunities for the next generation of Māori journalists.

“We just feel that Te Tiriti o Waitangi is being stomped on at the moment,” says Dr Middleton. “Nearly 1 million of us are Māori, and we deserve to have our own news told to us by our own people.”

Photo

THE COST OF REPORTING FROM GAZA’S FRONTLINES

Zahra Onsori and Sufiya McNulty speak to the citizen journalists documenting life and death under siege

Gaza has become the most dangerous place to report from in the world. At least 170 journalists and media workers have been killed in Gaza, the West Bank, Israel, and Lebanon since the war began in October 2023, of which 162 were Palestinian. The Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) described this as the deadliest period since they started collecting data in 1992.

With Israel’s near-total ban on foreign media, ordinary citizens – armed only with their phones – risk their lives to tell the world what is happening.

Yousuf Alhelou, a Palestinian filmmaker and freelance journalist, has witnessed the risks of reporting on the ground. “During the war, if you were wearing a press vest or helmet, you could be a target. Even locals were wary of going near Palestinian journalists because they could be targeted.”

Israel declared war on Hamas following its attack on 7 October 2023 that killed approximately 1,200 Israelis. Since then, citizen journalists have been vital in illuminating the truth of day-to-day life under siege in Gaza. But with this huge responsibility also come numerous consequences.

“A psychological helmet is needed for journalists,” says Dr Samah Jabr, former Head of the Mental Health Unit at the Palestinian Ministry of Health.

She continues: “It is not sufficient that they wear the bulletproof jacket and helmet – they also need to know about wellbeing, stress, burn out, emotional fatigue.”

As the intensity of the bombardment increased, so did the graphic nature of reporting, with the most impactful images often being the most shocking. The effect of this reporting not only further dehumanises Palestinians, but also subjects citizen journalists, who have received no formal psychological training, to deal with added trauma.

of citizen journalism comes added risks of censorship. According to Human Rights Watch, there have been thousands of suppressed and deleted accounts on Instagram and Facebook, including instances of human rights abuse.

“A psychological helmet is needed for journalists”

“Palestinian media needs a lot of psychological literacy,” says Dr Jabr. “I’ve criticised Palestinian media on several occasions because of its pornography of blood and body parts.

“I have heard it many times from journalists, how much they suffer to capture a photo or to write something. There is a feeling of emotional fatigue, burnout, and disillusionment.

“With the intensity of the situation, journalists often get caught by counting the number of dead bodies, injured people and prisoners. The psychological pain is difficult to quantify, so it gets ignored.”

Hundreds of Palestinians have turned to social media, particularly Telegram and Instagram, to share their experiences. But with the rise

This was the case for Plestia Alaqad, who has become a prominent citizen voice, documenting the death and destruction happening in the Gaza Strip. She has amassed over 4 million Instagram followers since 7 October despite claiming repeated content suppression.

“I believe most, if not all, Palestinians faced censorship problem on Instagram and other Meta platforms,” she says. Alaqad was 21 and working in HR at a marketing company when the war broke out. Early on into the bombardments against Gaza, one of Alaqad’s videos of a block of flats being hit by multiple air strikes went viral.

“As a Palestinian born and raised in Gaza, documenting what was happening to the world felt more like a duty than a profession,” she says. “I didn’t want to watch my people be killed in silence. I wanted to share with the world the truth of what was happening, especially from the perspective of a young Palestinian.”

Alhelou describes the difficulties of reporting: “It’s been an immense struggle to continue the work in Gaza. There is a

Photo provided by Plestia Alaqad Previous page provided by Omar

El-Qattaa

Plestia Alaqad in her press helmet

significant lack of resources: vests, helmets, eSIM cards, laptops, transportation.

“Satellite signals are weak. People risked their lives climbing to rooftops, desperate to connect to the outside world. They put themselves in danger in the hopes of catching a good signal.”

Plestia’s storytelling offered what mainstream news often lacked: an intimate, personal, and humanised account of Palestinian voices who were otherwise reduced to statistics.

Forced to flee for her safety, Alaqad now lives in Lebanon and reflects on how the war has irrevocably changed her after 18 months of nonstop reporting.

“When I was in Gaza, fear kept me going. The Plestia before is different from the Plestia since the genocide began. It’s hard to put into words, but I’ve become more aware of the world we live in. I’ve come to understand that international human rights aren’t truly universal.”

Alaqad is not the only one to take to Instagram to report the human consequences of the war. Yahia Barzaq, an independent photographer, built his career on celebrating life, taking portraits of newborns in Gaza. In a cruel turn of fate, his life’s work now documents loss.

Barzaq’s photo studio was destroyed in the bombings, but he continues to publish images of the children he once photographed – many of whom are now victims of airstrikes. His haunting portraits have gone viral, reposted by news outlets such as Al Jazeera and Middle East Eye.

“Many of the children I had photographed in the past are now victims of the war. I felt a deep responsibility to show the world who they were – happy, loved, and full of life – before they became names on a casualty list. They were real children with families, dreams, and futures that were stolen.”

“Social media became my way of fighting silence, of ensuring that the world saw what was happening through

an unfiltered, human lens.”

Whilst many citizen journalists have taken it upon themselves to document the reality of life under occupation, they are often exposed to a multitude of trauma from both living and reporting on life in a warzone.

Dr Umar Albuhisi, a psychiatrist in Gaza working for the Palestine Trauma Centre, has witnessed the psychological toll.

He says: “Our suffering is not only from this war. We are under ongoing trauma, psychologically, politically, economically.”

Despite a fragile ceasefire established in January, the trauma has continued after Israeli forces restarted

“Social media became my way of fighting silence”

their bombardments in March, killing hundreds of Palestinians.“We don’t have time to feel sad. We still haven’t woken up from this nightmare,” says Dr Albuhisi.

For Barzaq, the responsibility is clear: “Stopping is not an option.”

“Every child I document, every story I share, is a testament to the lives that were lost. If I don’t keep going, their memories might fade into statistics. My motivation comes from the belief that showing the truth can spark action and, hopefully, justice.”

The Gaza Strip

“With few restaurant critics under 40, the food scene is crying out for Gen Z to sex it up ”

Did TikTok kill the food critic?

Hebe Hancock and Esme Hewitt find out

For decades, the restaurant critique was untouchable. A well placed review in Times or The Guardian could turn a tiny, family-run bistro into an overnight sensation, or fry a chef’s career up in flames. Food lovers eagerly awaited the next long-form dissection of a meal from the likes of AA Gill or Matthew Fort.

But now? Why wait a week for a 1,000-word review when a 30-second one serves up everything you need –fast, immersive, and perfectly curated?

“Social media and influencer-driven food culture [today] have exactly the same role as traditional food media did 20 or 30 years ago,” says food writer and founder of Vittles, Jonathan Nunn. “In the Nineties, you would need a review from Fay Maschler for people to start forming a queue outside a restaurant that never had a queue before. Now anyone can do it.”

Food content has become faster, shinier, and more aesthetic: think zoomed-in sandwich cross-sections with more than seven layers, ASMR crunches, molten cheese pulls. It’s less about critical analysis and more about what looks good.

he problem, says Nunn, is that social content is being churned out with a focus on quantity over quality. “There is so much crowdsourced restaurant content out there now that to stand out, you have to claim you’re doing something different, which is how you end up with people pretending that the bar at The Standard is a hidden gem for views.”

“Influencer-driven food content is, first

and foremost, entertainment”

Influencer Lucas Oakeley refuses to use TikTok. “You find that people don’t really interact on it as much,” he says. “The app is filled with ‘faceless user 1057892’. It’s more for scrolling and to capture someone pulling a massive bone out of a short rib.”

But, he explains, influencer-driven food content is first and foremost, entertainment.

“The main reason you watch someone for their reviews is because you find them entertaining. I don’t necessarily think you trust them.”

In other words, while social media has changed the way we consume food content, it has made proper restaurant criticism more important. With paid partnerships, fake reviews, and style over substance, audiences still need critics and writers who can cut through the noise and not just make an Instagram reel of their meal. So how do we marry the two together?

“Once you become a restaurant critic, you’re basically going to hold on to that with white knuckles and not let go until you’re forced out of the role,” says Oakeley. “The good thing about social media and Substack is you can immediately start posting and then eventually become that person.

“I don’t want to say ‘adapt or die’ [but] you look at Jay Rayner’s Instagram feed and it’s kind of horrible. He’s got so much incredible knowledge and wisdom to share but none of the traditional [media outlets] are packaging that up properly.”

“Adapt or die”

Substack is also starting to reshape the restaurant scene. “Substack readers can follow writers who are speaking directly to them, whether that’s purely geographically or generationally as well,” Oakeley says. It’s about the person, not just the content.

He likens food writing to football fandoms: “Instead of supporting football teams, people are supporting the players.”

With few restaurant critics under 40, the food scene is crying out for Gen Z to “sex it up a little bit”, not with vapid reels or paid content, but with strong writing, authenticity, and engaging photos.

So if traditional food critics want to survive, they might need to follow the next generation’s lead and pick up the ring light.

The New Yorker’s guide to hitting 100

This year marks a century since The New Yorker first hit newsstands. Cyna Mirzai investigates how the magazine cemented itself as a journalistic powerhouse

The New Yorker’s first cover

“At

The New Yorker, writers are respected for their ideas, their voice, their style, and their vision”

High on the thrill of a card game and spotting an opportunity, Harold Ross had an idea for a magazine. Seated at a poker round table in Manhattan’s Algonquin Hotel, Ross created a business plan and pitched it to Raoul Fleischman, an heir to the General Baking company. Whether it was Ross’s charm, the excitement of the unknown, or sheer luck, Fleischmann agreed to stake him $25,000. And so, The New Yorker was born.

The first edition hit newsstands on 21 February 1925 and went for 15 cents. While the initial response was underwhelming, The New Yorker slowly became what it’s known for today: interesting profiles, deeply reported nonfiction narratives, short stories, poetry, and the singlepanel cartoons and humour sketches.

“Its history is what makes it iconic,” says Liana Finck, a cartoonist and illustrator for the magazine. “It comes from the flapper times and it represents an understated humour and elegance that just feels right.”

In 2025, writing for The New Yorker is a dream job for anyone in the industry. Today’s roster of award-winning writers include James Wood, Patrick Radden Keefe, and Jia Tolentino.

Hua Hsu, who has contributed to the publication since 2014, says the magazine’s style has remained the same since its first few issues.

“There are rules when it comes to formatting that date back to the early days,” he says. “A typical issue looks more or less the same as it did fifty years ago, even if the names have changed. I think a lot of people who join The New Yorker are conscious of that history and are drawn to maintaining an abstract ‘standard’ in their own work.”

The New Yorker has maintained its signature style by prioritising a writer-driven approach. “There are a lot of magazines that are very editor-driven, where editors

come up with all the ideas and your work gets chopped up, but people don’t necessarily have their own voice,” says Emily Nussbaum, who served as the television critic from 2011 to 2019. “At The New Yorker, writers are respected for their ideas, their voice, their style, and their vision. I think that’s one of the things that makes the magazine powerful.”

With each passing decade, The New Yorker published legendary articles on presidential assassinations, environmental harm, and the best shows on television. One of the magazine’s most notable stories is Hiroshima, reported by John Hersey on the use of the first atomic bomb in warfare. The magazine also played a pivotal role in shaping modern storytelling - Truman Capote’s novel In Cold Blood, widely credited as birthing the true crime genre - started as a collection of essays published in the magazine. From the beginning, Ross set high standards for writing and research, always returning each draft covered with penciled marks that required endless factchecking.

“It’s one of the only places that supports long-form reporting where you have enough space to actually see it through,” Nussbaum says. “And, in my experience, enough time to actually do more than just a 45-minute interview with somebody that you then write up as a piece.”

With the advent of AI and threats to press freedom in the US, the future of the magazine, like the industry itself, remains precarious. Yet, fiction editor Deborah Treisman believes its storied history proves it will stand the test of time.

“It’s not the same industry that it was when this place started,” Treisman says. “But I think it’s strong enough to soldier through changes. I feel confident that it will continue to be around.”

Viols de Mazan: Breaking the year’s biggest trial

Flore Boitel and Anna Mahtani speak to the French reporters who made Gisèle Pelicot front page news

Drugged, raped, and videotaped, Gisèle

Pelicot’s decision to take her trial public sent shockwaves through France and across the world. Fifty-one men stood accused of sexually assaulting an unconscious Gisèle over the course of a decade, a crime orchestrated by her then-husband Dominique Pelicot. With a vocal survivor and irrefutable evidence, the case had all the makings of a media storm. International media outlets descended on the trial, ensuring it dominated headlines. But it was French journalists who found themselves at the heart of the unprecedented case, forced to navigate the ethical, psychological, and logistical challenges of covering what became the most significant rape trial in a generation.

When the veil lifted

was unfolding: fifty-one defendants, a decade of repeated assaults, and – remarkably – concrete evidence, "which is extremely rare in sexual violence cases”.

Since she had originally brought the story forward at Le Figaro, d’Adhémar was assigned to cover the trial in court. Meanwhile, at Agence France-Presse (AFP), David Courbet was chosen to report on the trial primarily due to logistics – based in Marseille, he was one of the closest AFP journalists to Avignon.

“Une apnée dans l’horreur”

At Le Point, Bartolomé Simon took over coverage of the trial after a colleague who initially reported on the case began working on other assignments in Paris. Recognising the trial’s significance, Bartolomé Simon volunteered to cover it, ultimately becoming Le Point’s lead journalist on the case, alongside his colleague Marion Coquet.

French journalists first learned about les viols de Mazan (the Mazan rapes) in 2020, four years before the trial began. This is when Dominique Pelicot was arrested for filming under a woman’s skirt, an offence that would unravel one of the most horrific cases of sexual violence in French history.

Margaux d’Adhémar, journalist at the French national newspaper Le Figaro, first encountered the case in 2022 when Caroline Darian, daughter of Gisèle and Dominique Pelicot, published Et j’ai cessé de t’appeler Papa (I’ll never call him Dad again). The book exposed the shocking abuse endured by her mother, and when a copy landed on d’Adhémar’s desk, she immediately scheduled an interview with Darian.

“I was stunned by what she [wrote] in her book and was very affected by this interview,” she says. The story stayed on her mind, and she wondered whether the investigation would continue. Nearly two years later, d’Adhémar came across a Le Monde article that reignited her interest in the case. It was only when she delved deeper that she grasped the full scale of what

Reporting from inside the courtroom

From watching graphic videos of Gisèle Pelicot getting raped, to witnessing the defendants deny those same actions, reporting from within the court was a harrowing experience – one that d’Adhémar defines as “une apnée dans l’horreur” (“drowning in horror”).

Privacy is far more stringent in the French legal system, making Gisèle Pelicot’s decision to hold a public trial all the more shocking. The Avignon courthouse, however, was unprepared for the scale of the case.

With limited space, securing a seat became a daily battle. “The hearings started at 9am but we had to be there at 7.30am to secure a seat. We couldn’t leave for lunch or we would lose our spot,” says Bartolomé Simon. Due to the lack of space, each publication was limited to two journalists.

To accommodate the overflow, the courthouse set up a separate broadcasting room for those who couldn’t get a seat in the main courtroom. “It was a bit of a battle, but we were all helping each other by saving

Photo by Lewis

another journalist’s seat when we knew they were really involved. There were no rules.”

While French journalists worked relentlessly to cover the trial, the arrival of international journalists marked a turning point. The Avignon courthouse did not give priority to French publications, which led to animosity between local and international press. “It was a bit awkward to have someone from a UK publication who didn’t speak French, and kept looking at their neighbour’s laptop because they couldn’t keep up with what was happening in the courtroom,” Bartolomé Simon says.

The trial’s public nature granted journalists unprecedented access, allowing them to observe firsthand how Dominique Pelicot presented himself –his demeanour, his expressions, and the way he mumbled from a distance rather than speaking directly into the microphone.

“The videos were a difficult journalistic exercise,” says Bartolomé Simon. “We had to record what we saw but without describing the explicit details.” Journalists had to find the right balance between accuracy and responsibility in describing these videos without disturbing or unsettling their readers. The power of language played a major role to demonstrate that Gisèle Pelicot never consented – details like her snoring served as a reminder of her unconscious state.

D’Adhémar explains that she described the videos in a very factual manner without degrading the victim. “After explaining it once, there is no need to do it every time we watch a video. I was more interested in the defendants’ reactions in the room, or people in general.”

“I didn’t want to polluteagain”myself

“There were a lot of things we were glad to be able to see with our own eyes, except the videos,” says Bartolomé Simon. “But we had to watch the videos to tell our readers what les viols de Mazan really meant.”

Shoulder to shoulder with the defendants

Over the course of a decade, nearly 20,000 videos and photos documenting the assaults were uncovered. A number of tapes and images were shown in court. Gisèle Pelicot made the decision early on to have the videos shown in the courtroom, declaring that “shame must change sides”.

For many of the reporters, the most challenging part of covering the trial wasn’t just watching the harrowing videos, but sitting alongside the men shown in them. As journalists ended up befriending one another, the defendants did the same, going for a beer or a coffee outside of court. “They were very relaxed; some were even laughing and smiling,” recalls Bartolomé Simon. “As the trial went on, it became harder to be next to them. We had seen them in the videos, yet when they took the stand, they denied everything. We tried to avoid them as much as possible.”

D’Adhémar witnessed an exchange between the defendants that still haunts her.

“They would high-five each other in the courtroom, laugh with each other. I vividly remember a defendant getting his phone out to ask other defendants to take a selfie together,” she says.

Photo by Lewis Joly / AP

Reporting the unwatchable, witnessing the unthinkable

Covering the trial for four months, watching the videos and reporting on the case daily, was emotionally challenging for journalists.

A former war reporter, AFP photographer Christophe Simon made the deliberate choice to shield himself from the most graphic evidence “One of us had to watch them, but I refused,” he says. “It would have felt disrespectful.”

Having witnessed trauma throughout his career, he understood the lasting psychological impact. “As a young reporter, I thought I was protecting myself in war zones. I wasn’t. It all comes back. War has polluted me, and I didn’t want to pollute myself again.”

Some journalists, like Courbet at AFP, were offered psychological help to help maintain emotional distance from the case. Others like Bartolomé Simon and d’Adhémar had to rely on their colleagues from other publications also reporting on the case. “We have a lot of freedom at Le Point which is great but also meant that they never asked if I needed psychological help,” Bartolomé Simon says. Without formal support, journalists leaned on each other, forming a network of camaraderie rather than competing for scoops. The reporters created a WhatsApp group chat where all the French journalists would share information and insights – if one reporter had missed something a lawyer said, another would gladly help fill in the gaps. After finishing their articles each evening, many reporters would go for a drink together and discuss what happened in the courtroom that day to unwind and process what they had witnessed.

His respect didn’t go unrecognised. One sunny afternoon on October 23, 2024, the lawyers told Christophe Simon that Gisèle Pelicot would allow him to do a photoshoot with her. Among the green of her hotel garden, they spent half an hour chatting and snapping photographs. That morning she’d had to deliver a painful testimony in court, but by the afternoon, she felt relieved to have gotten through it. Unlike the pictures taken outside court where she was sombre and flanked by lawyers, through Christophe Simon’s lens, 2025 TIME Woman of the Year wasn’t just a symbol of resilience – she was herself again.

Between each snap, he would show her the result, to ensure she felt some control over the exchange. At the end, he handed her printed versions of their work, which she promised to keep for her grandchildren.

“When they took the stand, they everything”denied

When does it end?

All 51 of the accused men were convicted and sentenced, yet the legal battle is far from over – ten are already pursuing an appeal.

D’Adhémar plans to cover the appeals if they move forward, believing that “a journalist’s job only ends when the story does.” Christophe Simon also intends to return, hoping to remain a familiar presence for Gisèle Pelicot as the case unfolds.

But for others, the emotional toll was too great. Bartolomé Simon, who had covered the trial for months, made the difficult decision to step away three weeks before its conclusion in December 2024. The case took a toll on his mental health, so much so that he declined to cover France’s largest child sexual abuse trial, the Le Scouarnec case, currently unfolding in Vannes. “I had to protect myself,” he says.

Close enough to capture, far enough to respect

While his AFP colleagues sat within the court, Christophe Simon and videographer Viken Kantarci waited outside with a huddle of reporters to catch snapshots of those entering. As the trial continued, more and more journalists gathered, but there was a mutual understanding of how delicate the story was.

“We would photograph her when she arrived at the courthouse, in the hallways outside the courtroom, and when she left, but after that we would leave her alone. We never followed her.”

When the trial was made public, Christophe Simon approached Gisèle Pelicot’s lawyers to reassure them that AFP would be respectful and keep their distance during their coverage. “Mutual respect was essential because this was already a difficult time for her. I think she really appreciated that which then allowed me to maintain a strong connection with her.” After a few days, they started exchanging pleasantries.

Despite the Pelicot case bringing public and political debate, French law still fails to recognise a consentbased definition of rape. Instead, the intention of the aggressor is taken into account. After years of advocacy, propelled by the coverage of Pelicot’s case, politicians are bringing forward a motion to change the French penal code in order to instate consent into the legal definition. The proposition is about to be debated as XCity goes to press.

(Left to right) David Courbet - AFP, Margaux d’Adhémar - Le Figaro, Bartolomé Simon - Le Point

Timeline of the case

Dominique Pelicot is arrested after being caught filming under women’s skirts.

Pelicot’s electronic devices are taken in for investigation

Police find thousands of incriminating photos and videos. Gisèle Pelicot and her children find out

Illustrating the courtroom

Caroline Darian publishes her memoir Et j’ai cessé de t’appeler Papa, about her father’s use of chemical submission

The trial begins

Christophe Simon photographs Gisèle Pelicot in her hotel

All 51 accused men are convicted

With cameras banned from the courtroom, sketch artists played a crucial role in bringing the Mazan rapes trial to the public eye. Unlike in the UK, where Section 41 of the Criminal Justice Act 1925 makes sketching in court illegal -- forcing artists to draw from memory or notes -- France permits live court illustrations under the 1881 law on Press Freedom.

Marion Dubreuil, a journalist and sketch artist for RMC, was one of the key figures documenting the trial. After building her career in court sketching, she was sent to Avignon by RMC, a French radio station, to cover the case. While her sketches were commissioned by the station, they remained her property, allowing her to sell them to both French and international publications.

“There are things you can’t transcribe in writing, or at least are hard to sometimes”, Dubreuil says. “Certain postures and facial expressions can be captured instantly in a drawing, whereas writing takes longer to convey those details.”

While typically only two sketch artists were present in the courtroom, during key moments of the trial, the number would rise to as many as six or seven. At the

start of the session, sketch artists had a prime position at the front of the courtroom facing the stand, while journalists were relegated to the back.

“All drawings are made live in the courtroom,” Dubreuil shares. “I would draw five to ten sketches a day, capturing everyone involved. Drawing so many defendants was a first for me.”

To respect the victim, Dubreuil refrained from illustrating the videos shown in court. “I would draw the screens so people would understand what was happening in that moment. But I would focus on people’s reactions, the defendants looking down or the journalists holding their head in their hands,” she says.

From the first to the last day of the trial, Dubreuil felt an undeniable “sense of urgency”, knowing her sketches would help immortalise the trial’s most significant moments.

All interviews were conducted in French and translated by the authors.

The business of bylines

Hanna McNeila speaks to the entrepreneurs behind the media companies shaping journalism

Writing, interviewing, observing, editing – all building blocks of great journalism. But in today’s media landscape, one coveted skill reigns supreme: the ability to make money in new and creative ways.

According to Press Gazette, the number of Substack email newsletters earning at least £400,000 a year in subscriptions revenue has almost doubled in the last two years. Given the rise of platforms like Substack, Patreon, and the growing use of social media as a news outlet, the ability to monetise journalism has become more accessible, leading many writers to take the leap. But what does it really take to build a successful media business and what are the secret ingredients, or the hidden challenges, behind it?

If there is one journalist-turned-entrepreneur making waves, it is Joshi Herrmann. The 36-year-old started The Manchester Mill as a one-man Substack back in 2020, a few months into the pandemic, when most people were confined to their local areas. The idea: reviving local news by tackling it in a more nuanced, in-depth, and authentic way. Five years, 21 staff members, and six cities later, Herrmann has transformed his one-man Substack into a thriving media company.

With no business experience, Herrmann benefited from the expertise of his friends in the finance world – along with some The Mill readers.

“One of my readers, who was a chartered accountant, got in touch and offered to help when I was having trouble. He gave me advice on how to do things. There were quite a few instances like that where people would reach out and offer help.”

According to Herrmann, the high calibre of his staff is also a huge factor in The Mill’s success. A prime example is their current Senior Editor, Sophie Atkinson, who joined the team just two months after its launch. Atkinson reached out as a freelancer after writing for The New York Times and The Guardian. “She’s an unbelievable feature writer. I didn’t expect to have someone of Sophie’s quality get involved so early.”

While Herrmann acknowledges that there are some great jobs in the industry, he notes that at the moment “there are also many low quality ones

where you’re churning out too much content.” Herrmann believes that quality journalism is what attracts writers to The Mill, because “there’s an opportunity to do fulfilling work that people are proud of, it attracts those who love the industry.”

While The Mill proves there’s still a market for high quality local journalism, Kamal Ahmed’s The News Movement takes a different approach, tailoring news for younger audiences in the fast paced world of social media.

Three years ago, Ahmed partnered with his former City St George’s peer William Lewis to reimagine how news is told, leading to the creation of The News Movement. They specialise in short explainer videos, which Ahmed describes as “your friend who is also an expert, telling you the news”.

According to Ahmed, the challenge at the moment is “ensuring people can find trusted, professional journalism in a way that fits today’s media environment. That was the driving force.”

In January 2023, they also acquired US-based video news startup The Recount. Since then, they have hit 100,000 followers on Instagram, nearly 700,000 on TikTok, as well as building a strong YouTube presence, their own website, and an innovative approach to news. “It proves that it’s possible to build a successful business while maintaining the highest journalistic standards,” says Ahmed.

Johnston, former Content Editor at British GQ and founder of podcast Straight Up, has always had a passion for longform journalism. Recognising the industry’s shift toward short, clickable digital content, Johnston believes the podcast provides her with “more space” to explore indepth narratives and exercise her creativity.

In 2019, she and her GQ colleague Ellie Halls launched the first version of Straight Up. The pair were fans of The High Low, a podcast hosted by Dolly Alderton and Pandora Sykes, which blended highbrow and lowbrow culture. “When that ended, we wanted to do something similar,” Johnston says. “Since we both did a lot of interviewing for GQ, it felt natural to start with an interview-style podcast.”

Although hosting and interviewing celebrities on the show was attractive for sponsors to get involved and helped the podcast’s growth, the pair felt that they weren’t contributing anything new. “There are already so many celebrity podcasts, and guests tend to give the same answers in every interview.” They soon moved on to what they call “culture chats”, where they discuss key moments in popular culture, something that has resonated strongly with their listeners.

“One of my readers who was a chartered accountant, reached out and offered to help”

When it comes to their business model, Ahmed and Lewis took an “organic” approach, focusing on building genuine loyalty rather than paying for “bogus” follower numbers to manufacture the illusion of rapid growth. Ahmed notes that “platform-based income is very volatile”, which is why they decided to incorporate a studios division and an advisory arm to help brands communicate in new ways, allowing them to have a strong “future-proof” business model.

Ahmed also attributes his ability to start his business to online platforms: “When I was younger you would have had to [...] build printing presses, and distribution channels were incredibly limited.”

In May 2024, Ahmed left The News Movement, passing it on to a new generation of leaders. “Neither Will nor I wanted to stay with The News Movement for 20 years. Our plan was always to start it, prove it, and then hand it on.” Ahmed is now Director of Audio at The Telegraph, where he hosts “The Daily T” with Camilla Tominey.

Unlike Ahmed and Lewis, who have capitalised on shortform clips at The News Movement, Kathleen

More recently, the pair have been putting their energy into launching video content, as well as building their Patreon, a platform which will allow dedicated listeners to support the show financially in exchange for perks like exclusive content, early access, and community engagement opportunities.“The goal for Straight Up is for us to be established as the number one pop culture podcast in the UK. While something like The Rest Is Entertainment is great, it’s maybe servicing that slightly older demographic.”

While many media startups are relying on digital-first content, 25-year-old Luke Brown is proving that print still has a place. Brown founded The Guide, a lifestyle publication, while he was studying History at the University of Exeter in 2019, and decided to take on the project full time after he graduated in 2022. They have since grown within luxury markets and have partnerships with brands such as Vacheron Constantine, TAG Aviation, and IWC Schaffhausen.

While The Guide has a digital presence, Brown’s focus is mainly on print. He acknowledges that, thanks to the hefty overheads of print, the usual consensus is that a young brand taking it on is “business suicide”. But he also contends that “for us print has really opened doors. In some markets, print is still the gold standard. When it’s done right – excellent production paired with distribution –it’s highly regarded.”

For Brown, print is the backbone of his business. While many magazines struggle for buyers’ attention, he believes his “winning formula” is his “meticulous” distribution strategy. Targeting luxury consumers, he places magazines in hotel suites and airport lounges, ensuring brands reach their ideal audience. With its broad lifestyle focus, the magazine offers entry points for various readers. “There’s a lot of window shopping in magazines, but in the right hands, people engage,” he says.

As the media industry evolves, journalists are no longer just reporters, but founders, innovators, and business-led individuals. Whether through print, podcasts, or newsletters, today’s media entrepreneurs show that quality journalism can thrive when paired with innovation and strategy. As Ahmed puts it: “The joy lies in discovering what matters and telling people what they need to know.”

Whitewashing modest fashion

Isha

Khan

and

Yasmine Medjdoub

talk to Muslim writers about the thin line between appropriation and appreciation

Photos by Neil Mockford

At the Dune: Part Two London red carpet premiere, Florence Pugh and Anya Taylor-Joy stood before a sea of flashing cameras. TaylorJoy was draped in a flowing white Dior haute couture outfit featuring a sheer headscarflike veil that enveloped her head and cascaded over her shoulders, down to her hips. The translucent fabric allowed a view of her dress underneath. The look, particularly the veil, bore a striking resemblance to traditional Islamic head coverings such as the hijab and burqa. Yet, despite the clear visual parallels, media coverage largely ignored any reference to Islamic modest fashion.

Cosmopolitan described the look as a “sheerhooded caped poncho” and went on to claim that “only Anya could pull such a fit off”.

Independent and The Telegraph. Ayan Artan, a MuslimSomali freelance fashion journalist shares this frustration.

“This look in particular felt like a perfect snapshot of the west’s relationship to Muslims and our cultural codes. A fable about colonialism and white saviourism being told by a mostly white cast showing up to events in jilbabs. The jokes write themselves.”

This debate highlights a wider issue: the lack of Muslim voices in fashion journalism. Without representation in editorial spaces, the reporting on modest fashion often lacks the necessary context.

“Journalism in general has always skewed white and elitist”

Other publications also framed her outfit by stripping it of any cultural or religious connection to Islam. WWD described her look as resembling a “futuristic nun”, while W Magazine ran the headline, “Anya Taylor-Joy’s outfit went from chic nun to party girl”, noting that she “sported a hood”. These comments were seen by some as further perpetuating a negative stereotype that hijabis are seen as anything but fashionable. While the religious symbolism was acknowledged in a way, there was no recognition of its intrinsic link to Islamic attire.

This lack of any recognition of the link between headcoverings and Islam caused backlash, where Taylor-Joy was accused of “cosplaying as a Muslim”, with many people describing it as

Hafsa Lodi, the features editor of Vogue Arabia and author of Modesty:

A Fashion Paradox, recognises that while “as Muslim or Arabs, we don’t have a monopoly on head coverings” – they’re also strongly rooted in Christianity and other Abrahamic faiths – the strong reaction comes “because there’s so much prejudice against head coverings when they’re on brown women’s bodies. Then, when it’s on white women’s bodies, it’s glamourised”.

Modest fashion, which has existed for centuries, typically refers to clothing which covers the body. It consists of high neck-lines, loose silhouettes, and non-transparent fabrics, and may or may not include a head covering such as a hijab. The Muslim community is synonymous with this movement; yet on the few occasions where modest fashion is reported on, Muslim voices and names are often nowhere to be seen. Artan suggests that the journalism sector is lagging behind in a progressive society: “Journalism in general has always skewed white and elitist, so it is no surprise there are so few of us in the industry.”

It’s clear that the fashion industry can see the merits in embracing modest fashion as a commercial trend, but Muslim journalists’ voices are practically non-existent. Instead of being given space in the mainstream fashion media, Muslim journalists can frequently be boxed into covering politics or social issues.

woman The face

hijabi model in the world, expresses her frustration with this reality, saying: “Hafsa is probably one of the first few Muslim journalists in the UAE with a strong position, which says it all. We can’t even have our own voice in our own land.”

Artan further expresses the challenges Muslim female journalists face when covering fashion, explaining that “trying to speak up is exhausting, especially when even the most ‘liberal’ audiences choose to shut down Muslim women who express their frustration at the industry. There is an eagerness, I’ve found, to dog-pile and condescend to us”.

With traditional fashion journalism failing to provide space for a significant number of Muslim voices, many are turning to social

highlights, “the face of modesty is a woman in a hijab”.

While this recognition is important, there still remains a clear bias towards Western voices in the media. Artan states that fashion is reflective of our expressionism, so “why shouldn’t Muslims be able to be in these spaces? We wear clothes like everyone else. In fact, we wear so many clothes, they can’t stop discussing it”.

Until Muslim women are given equal footing in fashion media, the industry will continue to profit from their culture while sidelining their voices. Al-Idrissi emphasises that visibility in fashion isn’t just about the designers or the models. It also relies on the journalists who shape the narrative, explaining that products “can’t really be advertised without a journalist”.

Artan concludes: “That’s why conversations like these are so important. It is hard but it is possible. It’s why I’ll always try to hold open the door for the Muslim girls who come after me.”

hijab” in a of modesty is a

From headlines to heckles: How Josh Widdicombe found his calling in comedy

Hannah Bentley joins the talk show star on a chaotic car ride to discuss how his subbing days led to comedy nights

Josh Widdicombe never quite felt at home in journalism. As a sub-editor on The Guardian’s sports desk, he quickly realised the profession “didn’t suit” him. “I don’t like the idea of writing something that would make someone uncomfortable, and I don’t like talking to strangers.” So, in 2008, he swapped correcting copy for comedy clubs, trying to get laughs out of unfamiliar crowds.

Working at The Guardian for almost three years taught him the importance of “sharpness and not wasting words” when writing minute-by-minute coverage and match reports for football games. Allowing for some creativity, Widdicombe enjoyed these writing tasks over subbing. “I never wanted to be serious or challenge ideas. I always gravitated towards the fun stuff – I just wanted to entertain.”

“He just did a wanker sign. This is all very exciting!”

And entertain he has. Now 41, Widdicombe is everywhere – on stage, screen, and in the ears of millions. The City St George’s Magazine MA alumnus co-hosts the wildly popular Parenting Hell podcast, which has racked up over 55 million downloads, and is a regular fixture on the comedy talk show, The Last Leg, where his dry wit has made him a fan favourite. He’s gearing up for his latest stand-up tour, ‘Not My Cup of Tea’, and hinting at another book in the works –something he remains tight-lipped about.

And with a schedule this packed, every minute counts. But time isn’t always on his side.

It’s midday on a Friday and Widdicombe is already running late. He’s being driven to The Last Leg’s studio to film the new series, but he’s barely made it a few metres from his Hackney home in East London. A rubbish truck (or divine intervention) has brought

traffic to a standstill, making him increasingly antsy. “My biggest pet peeve is probably my own lateness. I find it incredibly frustrating, and I can’t seem to do anything about it.”

His hair, still damp from a rushed shower, curls into messy gold ringlets as he adjusts his seatbelt and phone camera, composing himself for our FaceTime call. Minutes pass before his driver loses patience and steps out to confront the bin men, leaving Widdicombe with little to do but sit, stew, and – ever the comedian – take note of any potential comedy material. “He just did a wanker sign. This is all very exciting!” His wide blue eyes – framed by thick tortoiseshell Garrett Leight glasses – watch the drama unfold from the backseat.

Widdicombe swivels the phone camera round, excited to reveal that the standoff is now resolved (“I’ve never had this driver before but I’d certainly like him again”). The car finally lurches forward, snapping Widdicombe back to the moment. “Right. Sorry – what was the question?”

Long before selling out theatres and appearing on our TV screens, Widdicombe studied linguistics at Manchester, and went on to complete his Master’s at City St George’s. Although his news writing skills may have left something to be desired, he still uses his journalistic training when crafting the perfect punchline nearly 20 years after graduating. “In news you lead with the headline, the most important thing. That’s the same as writing a stand-up routine; the first joke sets everything up, it’s the central idea that everything else follows.”

a journalist organising notes, eventually crafting enough material for a full two-hour show: “any more than that would be insufferable.”

In truth, he’s far more at ease behind a desk or a book, penning (emailing) jokes rather than performing them. The quiet process of writing is something Widdicombe misses from his journalism days. Much like his time as a sub-editor, he enjoys working in the background –shaping and refining content rather than standing in the spotlight. He savoured the “experience” of writing his Sunday Times bestseller Watching Neighbours Twice a Day…, a childhood memoir and ode to 90s television, and hints that a new book is on the horizon. “I love sitting and writing and playing around with words. Not having to say anything out loud to an audience is a huge freedom.”

“It would’ve been a lot easier if I’d just stayed at The Guardian”

Offstage, Widdicombe is a selfconfessed introvert. Growing up in Haytor Vale, a tiny Devon village, he attended a primary school so small that picture day could take place in a photo booth. With only four children in each year, social options were limited – perhaps shaping the shyness that fuels his comedy.

Over the phone, his awkward mannerisms and deadpan expressions make it difficult to determine if he’s grinning uncomfortably or just gritting his teeth. Every answer is spoken to the window rather than the phone screen, as if he’s collecting his thoughts at each passing lamppost and tree on the motorway, now far from London’s unpredictable traffic.

Ultimately, Widdicombe realised that he didn’t share the same passion for journalism as his colleagues, swapping out his reporter’s pad for a mic.

Following a few successful summers performing at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Widdicombe started writing comedy TV sketch scripts and appearing on shows like Mock the Week, where audiences quickly took to his distinct nasally voice and sarcastic humour. Much like journalism, he sees comedy as an exercise in observation – spotting the absurdities of everyday life and turning minor frustrations into hilarity. One gag he’s currently workshopping is about the unfortunate innuendos of the term “playdate”. “I won’t do the bit on a phone call. That would be too much pressure. But this is how I’ve paid off my mortgage for the last 15 years,” he says with a sardonic smirk. The joke will feature in his upcoming tour.

To keep track of his ideas, Widdicombe emails himself, resulting in a chain of halfformed jokes piling up, waiting to be weaved into his comedy routine.

When the time comes, he pieces them together like

For someone whose career revolves around conversation – particularly on Parenting Hell, which he co-hosts with fellow comedian Rob Beckett – it’s ironic how uneasy he seems with small talk.

Since launching in 2020, Widdicombe has swapped countless parenting horror stories with numerous celebrity guests and devoted listeners. He prefers hosting friends on the show rather than “some celeb you don’t really know”. That said, one guest left a lasting impression – Robbie Williams, who dialled in over Zoom, topless in bed, exuding the kind of charismatic “quirky confidence” that Widdicombe couldn’t help but admire (and perhaps envy).

As the car pulls up to the studio, Widdicombe remains coy about the details of his next book, or even when it might see the light of day. But with a comedy tour to finalise, a day of filming ahead, and podcast episodes to plan, this isn’t at the top of his to-do list. With a CV this stacked, I can’t help but wonder: has he found joy in the chaos?

“It’s brilliant,” he says with a wry smile. “But bloody hell, it would’ve been a lot easier if I’d just stayed at The Guardian.”

Photo provided by Off The Kerb Productions Limited

Westminster’s whisperers

Starmer’s freebies, a WhatsApp scandal and Tulip Siddiq’s fall from grace – it hasn’t been an easy initiation for Labour. Four Lobby reporters give Emily Warner the inside scoop

Despite a sweeping victory handing Labour the largest majority government in 25 years, public approval ratings have dropped dramatically since they came into power. Whether it’s Rachel Reeves’ obsession with the fiscal “black hole”, Starmer’s fondness for a free pair of spectacles, or criticism that he’s “an HR manager, not a leader”, it’s been a tumultuous first year. One group is at the centre of it all: the press lobby.

This pack of journalists work side by side with politicians, deep within the Westminster warren. There are currently 480 reporters with a Press Gallery pass, making it an exclusive club. Being part of the lobby means daily briefings from the PM’s spokesperson and behind-the-scenes intel from No. 10. Juggling a daily rota of coffees, lunches, late night drinks, and interviews, they’re all chasing the next big scoop.

As Labour navigates their first year in power, the lobby face their own challenges: 335 new MPs (the largest influx the chamber has ever seen), delicate new relations to forge, and harsh scrutiny from those outside the Westminster bubble.

Shortly after Labour’s victory, political advisor Pablo O’Hana described the press lobby as a “threat to the integrity of the democratic process” while David Yelland, a former editor of The Sun, called for its destruction.

However, Lord Jonathan Evans, former Director General of MI5, argues that the lobby is also an integral aspect of press freedom. The camaraderie between rival publications and their shared desire to uncover the truth is unique. So, as Labour tries to shepherd in a new chapter for politics, what’s happening behind the scenes?

Katy Balls

Katy Balls has been The Spectator’s political editor since 2023, and a political correspondent since 2017, having graduated from the Magazine MA course at City

She says that for the first few months, the new MPs were very well behaved: “There’s a lot of new blood and it feels like a younger parliament. There was a huge effort from the ‘Starmtroopers’ to get these new

This is not to say, however, that it has been peaceful. “Labour did have a pretty chaotic first 100 days. They didn’t really have anything planned because you had the dysfunction between Sue Gray, who was supposed to be doing the preparations for government, and lots of those on the campaign such as Morgan McSweeney – it meant that [they] had quite the stuttering start.”

When Balls was writing about the tensions between Sue Gray and “the boys”, it was considered an unserious story, more gossip and infighting than policy.

“Then, as time went on, it was causing dysfunction which spilled into the government’s plans and policy.

Arj Singh

Arj Singh, deputy political editor for The i Paper, is no stranger to the lobby, having been in Westminster since 2013.

“The day is spent hitting the phones, meeting people for coffees and lunches – they might just be a general catchup with contacts, or a story you’re looking to do further down the line. By about 4pm you stop, realise what you’ve got, and write for tomorrow’s paper.

“Perhaps there can be a bit too much focus on gossip, but often that comes from a grain of truth and tells you a wider story,” he says.

For Singh, the lobby’s value comes from being able to grab MPs in the corridor and “hold them to account in person, keeping them on their toes”.

Occasionally, Singh’s job takes him further afield. “The most memorable thing from the

Sometimes ‘tittle tattle’ and personality politics are necessary to understand policy politics.”

As Starmer has settled into his role, he has taken a democratic approach to the lobby – a far cry from his predecessor Boris Johnson, who tried to hold exclusive briefings and exclude certain publications. Balls notes: “You will often see Keir Starmer giving an op-ed to The Telegraph and we’ve had various interviews with Labour figures, so there is a sense that Keir Starmer’s Labour want to reach out across different publications.”

It’s not just Starmer giving exclusives, but the opposition too. One interview in particular, which Balls did for The Spectator’s Christmas special, sent ripples across Westminster. “I interviewed Kemi Badenoch and it was a bit more of a personal interview. We were talking about what we had for lunch and she said ‘lunch is for wimps’ – channeling Gordon Gekko – and then

“They had a stuttering start”

said she didn’t like sandwiches or soggy bread. Before you knew it, you had the No. 10 spokesperson saying Keir Starmer backed sandwiches. You had Nigel Farage recording a video of himself eating a sandwich. I didn’t expect sandwiches to be one of the biggest stories of my entire career.”

Another highlight of the past year has been observing the arrival of the Reform party. “They’re a bit of a motley crew,” says Balls, “and they have a new office around the corner from the Houses of Parliament [where] they all smoke indoors.”

Reform are not the only outfit with an enviable office. The Spectator’ bigger than most, as it’s shared with several outlets. Balls explains: “Our room is called the Old Bar.”

past year was going to the Commonwealth Summit, which was in Samoa. We were on the plane with the prime minister for almost thirty hours, which was pretty magical,” he says.

Their plane stopped four times to refuel, and during their first stop in Winnipeg, Canada, Keir Starmer came to the back of the plane with a plate of Halloween doughnuts.

“It turned out, these doughnuts had been delivered to Winnipeg Airport by Justin Trudeau himself.”

Jim Pickard

Jim Pickard has been part of the lobby for over 17 years, and he navigates the maze-like Houses of Parliament with ease. But the idea that all of his stories emerge from lobby briefings is a misconception; throughout their first year, Labour have been tight-lipped with journalists and keen to manage their news agenda.

Pickard says: “The lobby itself is just a briefing where [politicians are] asked questions and they bat most of them away or give generic responses.

“In some ways, it’s more useful to the government; it allows them to give their bland, positive spin on events. The stories we’re writing usually come from sources elsewhere and it’s very rare that I come out of lobby [briefings] and get on the phone to my news desk because they’ve said something exciting.”

“It’s the one place in London where your rivals are breathing the same air”

As deputy political editor for the Financial Times, Pickard does a phenomenal amount of policy scrutiny. To claim that the lobby has no interest in policy, as Sam Freedman recently did in Prospect magazine, “[is] a simplistic, slightly naive interpretation of what we do”, Pickard says.

“In a world where no one buys a newspaper or watches TV, then [the lobby] will have served its purpose. But while there’s still a considerable

Aubrey Allegretti

As the chief political correspondent for The Times, you might think Allegretti would have a glamorous Westminster office. Instead, he has to work from a portacabin bolted onto the roof. “The heating never really works in the winter and the air conditioning barely functions in the summer, so I spend a lot of my day walking around and trying to keep warm,” he says.

His days consist of contacting sources, trying to define the contours of a story, or unearthing a new one. But Labour’s cagey start complicated his valiant efforts.

“There was a surprise that when they came in they weren’t willing to play ball as much. A new government is looking to make a strong first impression and in those first three months, we were like ‘why don’t you want to make statements of intent? This is the biggest chance you’ve got to get a proper hearing from the public before they start tuning out again.’”

segment of people that do get their news that way, it’s a way for the government to tell the world what they’re doing.”

There’s also something timeless about the parliamentary lobby, where different newspapers work along one corridor: Burma Road, supposedly named after the journalists who served in Myanmar, formerly Burma, during the Second World War. “In the old days you had Fleet Street where all the rival newspapers were in the same place, and they would compete viciously.

“Now, newspapers are all geographically more dispersed than they used to be. This is the one place in London where your rivals are breathing the same air as you.”

The influx of unfamiliar faces to parliament brought a challenge to journalists whose work relies on sources.

Pickard explains: “You’re sitting in the Press Gallery and looking down at the [House of Commons] Chamber, [there are] an awful lot of people you just don’t know.”

He feels that The Times’ coverage of Labour has been fair. “We’re covering the government as fairly as we did the Conservative party. It’s just that Keir Starmer created a problem for himself by being so forthright about how there would be no standards issues tolerated in the Labour party. So when there are standards issues raised – like Tulip Siddiq, or accepting freebies – [it’s not] a good look for the MPs.”

Tone, mood, and momentum are all factors closely scrutinised by political journalists, and Allegretti has noticed a change in atmosphere.

Initially, Labour were buoyed by their victory, the inheritance they received from the Conservatives acting as a scapegoat for any subsequent misfortune.

Yet it’s surprising how quickly disaffection has set in: “Lots of Labour MPs [are] openly saying ‘I don’t expect to be here in five years’ and being quite pessimistic about the party’s future performance. More and more, the threat of Reform is being brought up.” It seems Labour’s honeymoon phase is over.

M A R I NA H Y D E

DO

E S N ‘ T CAR E

The celebrated columnist chats with ORLA SHERIDAN and ALICE LAMBERT about her satirical style, suspect Substackers, and why it’s best not to give a sh*t

by Suki Dhanda

Photos

Two rookie journalists, just ten minutes early after a battle with the District line, squeeze into one side of a plush booth. Tiny lattes sit untouched in ceramic cups. Sheets of neatly printed questions lie smooth on the table. Opposite, an empty seat waits – poised for the arrival of the UK’s most recognised satirist.

With over a million page views on her cultural commentaries and millions more tuning into her podcast The Rest Is Entertainment, we had been told that securing an interview with Marina Hyde was going to be an impossible task.

We fired off countless emails, each one vanishing into the digital void. A Rest Is Entertainment producer shut us down with a firm “no way”. A mutual contact said it “couldn’t be done”. Hyde’s last interview, a rare sit-down promoting her book, What Just Happened?!: Dispatches from Turbulent Times, was in 2022 and with Vogue. Not exactly promising.

With nothing to lose, we took one final, desperate shot. A final shout into the email abyss, it read:

“I’m coming to you as a downtrodden woman – everyone says I’ll never get this interview. But I refuse to believe them; our parasocial bond is strong. I know you care about journalism, women in the industry, and supporting young writers. If you have time, I’d be eternally grateful – plus, I’d get to say a massive fuck you to the two men telling me to give up!”

That wry delivery, honed over two decades as one of the UK’s most-read columnists, has carried Hyde through waves of both acclaim and controversy. While largely celebrated, she has had her share of public clashes. In 2008, Elton John attempted to sue The Guardian over one of her razor-sharp spoof diary columns. He lost.

Hyde, as ever, remained unbothered.

Reflecting on the start of her career, Hyde tells how she was originally set on politics before she found a job as a secretary on the showbiz desk at The Sun. In a scandal that surely had noughties newsrooms shook, she was then sacked after email exchanges were found between her and rival publication’s editor, Piers Morgan. Following a brief stint at the Evening Standard, she landed at The Guardian

Stepping into the world of podcasting with The Rest is Entertainment in late 2023 exposed the broadcasting novice to a new wave of trolling, as short Gen Z-digestible snippets of Hyde and Osman’s conversations began to regularly circulate on TikTok and Instagram Reels.

Recently, a 90-second podcast clip detailing the Justin Baldoni and Blake Lively “category 5 entertainment shitstorm” was badly received. Hyde, drawing on her industry expertise, was accused of perpetuating a biased version of events. The irked commenters directed criticism solely to the female co-host, despite Osman echoing her claims. ‘Oh I just KNEW this woman would be the only person to take Blake Lively’s side,’ one comment that received over 400 likes read.

“Did I say that? I’m appalled...

Am I really though?”

The pop culture expert remains stoic – when it comes to backlash, her indifference is clear. “I've never blocked or muted anybody. I literally don't care.” She repeats this sentiment several times throughout our conversation, yet never with the insistence of someone trying to convince or persuade. Marina Hyde doesn’t care.

Twenty-three minutes later, the reply landed. Hilarious. Decisive. In all caps: “I WILL DO IT.” Marina Hyde had said yes.

Two days later, Hyde appears in the doorway of the coffee shop, arms outstretched to greet us. “Hi girls!” she grins, immediately curious about the green foamy drink on the table. “Is that a matcha? Would I like it?” she asks before promptly ordering one.

At the coffee bar, she stands shorter than anticipated (though perhaps that’s just in contrast to her 6ft 7in podcast co-host Richard Osman). Placing a leg up on the ledge of the stool, her grey mid-length skirt falls in a way only good quality fabrics do. An understated black turtleneck and boots complete the look, but it’s the teaspoon-sized silver earrings, framing her face, that steal attention.

Matcha secured, she declares, “I'm so suggestible.” Her matcha verdict? “There's a leafiness to it. Perhaps doing me the power of good. It should feel punitive,” she says before adding, dryly, “Oh, you’re not meant to enjoy it!”

To put it to us plainly, she quotes Aristophanes: “To be insulted by you is to be garlanded with lilies.” Sitting back in her chair, she triumphantly sips her drink with a raised brow.

Admitting she was more sensitive in her twenties, she is keen to help younger women get to her stage of not caring quicker. Step one: accept that you’ll get there eventually.

Step two: most importantly, “never show weakness.” Simple, yet so effective. Suddenly earnest, she says again: “They [the hateful commenters] have shown weakness by saying the thing, and you should just leave it there as it is. I try not to show weakness because what's the upside?”

It’s clear from the way Hyde engages with us – two aspiring writers – that while she may not care what people think of her, she does care about the next generation of women in journalism, particularly the industry’s duty of care.

“I try not to show weakness because what’s the upside?”

She details a period she “hated”, when editors routinely assigned female reporters trauma-heavy pieces. “The first time you saw lots of young women’s bylines was because of some terrible awful event that had happened to them. They [were] being paid nothing then getting lots of abuse for it.”

Hyde urges young writers to resist pressure to expose their own lives for content. “Go back and write them when you become really good,” she adds.

When asked about the writing process of one of the UK’s most read columns, she maintains her open nature. “I never start at the beginning. I once said this, and someone said, ‘Oh my god you're actually deranged,’ but I don't.” She catches our expressions and laughs. “Don’t take my advice. Apparently, everyone else starts at the beginning.”

Hyde’s train of thought can be difficult to follow, particularly when talking about her writing process. Much like the way her thoughts must develop on the page, her mind jumps around when speaking.

As for her vivid, often hysterical use of colour when describing the subjects of her pieces, she explains that she starts by locating an image on Google. “I sit and I stare, and I try and make my eyes go a bit weird [until] I think, ‘Oh, I know what you look like!’”

She advocates for relating affairs of state to ordinary life, having once described David Miliband as the piece of paper placed at the bottom of a mince packet. “It's wet, it's useless, and it's actually quite unpleasant. I mean, why is it there?” She delivers the line with such conviction, it really feels like she’s trying to get us to explain the ineffable.

It was her “Lost in Showbiz” column Hyde credits for truly finding her voice. Launched back in 2005, it was born out of the reality that, according to Hyde, “there were only two subjects in the Noughties –celebrity and Islamic fundamentalism”.

Merging both sarcasm and self-deprecation, she throws her hands up towards us and quips: “Yeah girls, [celebrity] was mainly my side.” Her tone conveys that she knows that relating the highbrow to the lowbrow has true value. And there seems to be an inner eye roll reserved for those who still refuse to acknowledge that.

Touching on the current state of journalism and accessibility, she says: “Anything that removes barriers to interest or entry is helpful.” The conversation circles back to women in male fields. Throughout her career, Hyde has found herself in typically male-dominated spaces and yet still excelled.

Hyde and Osman performing The Rest is Entertainment live

The mother of three has said in other interviews that everything good she’s ever written came after the birth of her children. “Isn’t that mental!” she exclaims. A pragmatist, she explains that there are two very prominent reasons as to why.

With a lack of time to procrastinate, Hyde became “incredibly efficient” in her writing process. “I could write a column in two hours, rather than a day, and [they’ve] become better for that.”

Within a short period, the article is ready to go “as written”, she tells us, as she is rarely edited. Occasionally, the odd call may come her way on “taste grounds”. “Obviously I fight that to the death-slashthreat of resignation,” she half-jokes.

Does she ever have a day, deadline looming, where the writer’s block sinks in and there is just nothing to say? “Oh, people always ask me this. No!” After spending time with her we really should have guessed – Marina Hyde never runs out of opinions.

Motherhood didn’t just make her faster, it made her bolder, more of a “risk taker”. With her children now the “centre of her world”, Hyde’s perspective shifted. Trying new things professionally led to more “interesting and exciting” work, because as she points out, “it didn’t really matter if I did something and failed. It’s not exactly the most important thing in life, is it?”

One opportunity for risk came from Gary Lineker, football legend and, in recent times, co-founder of the UK’s largest podcast group, Goalhanger Podcasts,

“It’s better not to mind being slightly

outsider-ish”

which attracted over 400 million downloads in 2024 alone. He asked Hyde to join the project that became The Rest Is Entertainment, to which she recounts responding, “oh no, I'd be so bad at it”.

Initially not keen, it was the promise of co-host Osman that changed Hyde’s mind. “Richard said, ‘please will you do this with me?’ I just lay awake all night and at quarter to five messaged him and said yes.”

Early into its creation, which Hyde assures her and Osman have almost complete creative control over, she realised the parallels to column writing. Including the element of forgetting what she has said. “I read something the other day [a rude joke about Alastair Campbell] and thought, that's outrageous, ‘did I actually say that? I'm appalled.’” She pauses to take a sip of water before saying aloud what we had been thinking: “Am I really though?” No.

With traditional platforms struggling to maintain their audiences’ waning attention spans, Hyde seems visibly pleased with the success of her and Osman’s joint venture, much of which she credits to the strength of their partnership.

“Scott Galloway [American author] always says that the smaller the screen you're working on, the better your future in media,” she shares, referring to the unstoppable popularity of short form content. “Contrary to all of that, [are] podcasts, where people are willing to commit to something much longer.”

As the conversation turns to the shifting media landscape, we ask her thoughts on Substack. For maybe the first time during the course of our conversation, Hyde settles into a long pause.

“I always feel when someone’s going to Substack that they've obviously sexually assaulted somebody and had to leave their [job].” She grins. “Put that in.”

Just as Hyde rushed into the coffee shop, she must rush off to pick up her daughter. Her modest nature emerges once again, as she admits that despite enjoying the interview she “can’t possibly read it herself”.

Before she’s out the door, we ask if we’ve missed anything – what would she have asked herself? Hyde doesn’t hesitate.

“Can you shut up, Marina? Please.”

MANO A MAN SPHERE

Andrew Tate and his cronies’ influence is growing at an alarming rate. Finn Cliff Hodges talks to the journalists fighting back

There’s a role model crisis amongst vulnerable young men, with many turning to misogynistic influencers such as Andrew Tate.

It’s no surprise, then, that we are seeing a deep ideological divide opening up between young men and women. Young men are 25 per cent less liberal than their female counterparts, especially on issues like race and immigration, a report by the Financial Times revealed last year.

Amidst the rise of the so-called “manosphere”, some journalists have started to make it their beat, fighting to expose its dangers, combat misinformation, and raise awareness. But this work comes with real risks: distress, anxiety, and abuse.

Matt Shea, a film-maker who has worked for Vice,

expert. But with exposure comes backlash: “Over a year [after the documentary was aired] I still get that fanbase actively trying to attack my reputation, harass me, and troll me.”

What might seem to be harmless internet comments come together to cast doubt on work these journalists do. Whilst investigating Tate for The Guardian, freelance journalist and producer Freddie Feltham, 24, saw first-hand how this happens. “Anyone who chooses to [attach] themselves to conspiracy is not in the interest of supporting accurate, fact-based journalism,” Feltham says. “Grifting is not good for journalism.”

Fighting against the manosphere requires empathy, even when engaging with deeply disagreeable views. Shea’s work is crucial to this battle, raising awareness among the masses; Feltham tackles the issue at a granular level, visiting schools in London and speaking to vulnerable young men about the dangers of turning to, and idolising, Tate and those like him.

One such person Feltham interviewed was Enys, a 19-year-old boxing coach. Enys truly believed Tate had changed his life for the better: “[Tate] changed his attitudes, and as a result of those changed attitudes, his business became more successful. Who am I to argue with that?”

Feltham believes the key to reform is trying to make the discourse around the manosphere empathetic, rather than ostracising: “We have to create a more inclusive, intellectualised dialogue about these things. We have to open people’s minds to these ideas.”

According to Feltham, young people are struggling to find meaning in their lives, and this is particularly dangerous: “What I’m worried about is that there are plenty of young people who don’t have meaning and are looking for it; they might look in the wrong places.”

Maya Oppenheim, a freelance journalist and author of The Pocket Guide to the Patriarchy, has investigated

Photos provided by Vadim Ghirda and AP News

Tate. She warns against underestimating misogynistic influencers and the ideological rift between young men and young women. “I feel like some people downplay this problem [and fail] to understand just how influential and powerful certain figures are, and just how dark and sinister manosphere content can be,” she says. The mainstream media’s apparent beration of this demographic results in a fundamental disregard of journalism, says Ben Zand, filmmaker behind “The Secret World of Incels” for Channel 4. Journalists become “gotcha!” merchants in the eyes of young people.

Zand is no stranger to interviewees spouting outrageous hatred to try and get a reaction from a journalist. “I don’t get super riled up by it,” he says. “It’s like being a doctor or something, you go into a place and you’re going to see some blood, but you accept that it’s just part of the job.”

As a father and husband who has received death threats, Zand must be meticulous about every frame in his documentaries: “I filmed near my office recently, and I’m thinking ‘Do I show it? How identifiable do I want it to be?’ It even comes down to the type of office I get. The office needs to be protected, there need to be multiple layers to get into that place.”

Glastonbury, someone who worked on the airplane when I was flying in America,” he reveals. “I really get the sense that wherever I travel in the world, there is this cult of angry, radicalised Tate fans who hate me.”

This ruthless harassment even spills into the crypto industry. Shea “critics” even made a “Fuck Matt Shea” coin, a crypto currency or digital “shitcoin”. “Millions of dollars worth of meme coins making fun of me have been traded,” says Shea.

“There’s a firehose of falsehoods, and we’re trying to fight it with a squirt gun of truth”

Zand often faces abuse online, which extends into real life. “I struggle to use social media because I don’t want people to know where I am at different times,” he admits. “If I’m doing a talk somewhere, I don’t usually post it. I try to limit what people know about me.”

Shea too has experienced real-life confrontations. “I’ve had many Andrew Tate fans come up to me in real life, three Uber drivers, the security guards at a campsite at

Oppenheim is remarkably unfazed by similar online abuse. “I am happy to say it hasn’t had much of an impact on me,” she says. “It might sound a bit cliched and condescending, but I try not to let it bother me, as it is a far greater reflection on the troll than anything else.”

Manosphere content inevitably intersects with broader extremism. Counter-terrorism officials report a rise in misogynistic radicalisation, with extreme online communities acting as gateways to violent ideologies. One counter-terrorism officer in North London cited Tate as “a pawn or figurehead for those actual dangerous, violent extremists to hide behind”. He confirmed that misogyny is increasingly cited as a reason for intervention in counterterrorism efforts, a reminder of the devastating real world impacts of the manosphere.

Meanwhile, Shea, the focal point of Tate fans’ ire, remains more committed than ever to his belief in journalism’s value and power. “Tate has this firehose of falsehoods, and we’re trying to fight it with a squirt gun of truth. The more you expose people, the more truth you throw out there, it sticks, and the falsehoods can be whittled away at. Eventually, the truth will prevail.”

Photo: Peter Flude, Naomi Oppenheim, Freddie Feltham, Ben Zand, AP

Photos of Tate’s arrest, alongside the seizing of his assets

Left to right: Matt Shea, Maya Oppenheim, Freddie Feltham, and Ben Zand

by Emily Warner and Kathryn Vann

Chris Burkard is an award-winning photographer, author, travel influencer, and filmmaker. He lives in Iceland, but his production studio and art gallery are located in the Central Coast region of California.

“I took a trip to the Aleutian Islands, a chain of islands off the coast of Alaska, to shoot surfing. We didn’t really know what to expect except that some of the world’s biggest storms form there. After

exploring the islands for a few days, we stumbled on a pristine rightpeeling wave with a snow-covered volcano for a backdrop. When I started shooting images, I knew I was getting something special, but

I still can’t believe I captured the moments I did. Nature was doing all the work, I was just lucky enough to have put myself in the right place for it to happen.”

Christa Funk uses her camera to capture the ocean in its dangerous, beautiful, and unpredictable majesty. She’s made a name for herself as a water photographer, amd is one of only a few women in the field.

“I went out on the boat and there were a lot of sharks in the water. We had five other people in the sea with spear guns, and my friend hit a 52kg tuna, paralysing it. It was a

whole team effort trying to get the tuna back to the boat and making sure it didn’t get eaten by the sharks around us. I was shooting, trying to capture what was going on,

and in the shot I have, the tuna is swimming to the surface above her. It was just so crazy being in that environment with a ton of sharks and fish blood.”

Helge Tscharn is a skateboard photographer from Cologne, Germany. His work has been featured in magazines such as Thrasher, Transworld Skateboarding, and Spex

Jody MacDonald is an awardwinning adventure photographer who has sailed, surfed, and paraglided her way around the globe in pursuit of a good photo.

“I’ve paraglided along the 120m cliffs on one of the Azores islands in Portugal. We had already spent nearly three weeks waiting for the right wind conditions, and when they finally lined up, we had a small window to make it happen. The spot was tricky – if the wind shifted or died even slightly, there would be nowhere to land. Just a straight drop into the Atlantic. At one point, I asked pilot Gavin McClurg, whom I was photographing below me, to do another pass. His response over the radio? ‘I’m only doing it one more time!’ Luckily, that was all I needed. One shot, one chance.”

Ian Corless, a legend on the global trail running stage, specialises in the world of extreme ultramarathons and skyrunning (running through mountains over 2000m).

“I photographed a race that goes to the summit of Mount Rosa in Italy, which is over 4,500m high. I could go on foot, but to get a combination

of different photos, I needed a helicopter. The helicopter would take me up to the summit and then pick me up and take me to different

places. That doesn’t happen very often, only in very extreme races.”

©helgetscharn

Action sports presenter, travel writer, and journalist Tarquin Cooper thrives on adventure.

“One of my craziest experiences was joining a polar explorer for The Daily Telegraph. He was going to do a ski trip to the North Pole. I went to the most northerly point you can get to in Canada, in the middle of winter – the sun does not rise at that time of year. It was so brutally cold, it was ridiculous. I remember doing an outdoor interview which looks like it’s filmed in a studio.

FLEET STREET TO

Tiago Ventura explores the journalist to MP pipeline

Torcuil Crichton spent over a decade uncovering the inner workings of Westminster before he chose to swap the press bench for a green leather seat in Parliament.

For more than two centuries, journalists and politicians have shared a complex, intertwined existence. Now, a growing number of reporters are crossing the divide, swapping notebooks for constituencies. The allure is undeniable – why merely report the news when you can shape it? However, in politics, careers can be just as fleeting as headlines.

Some enter Parliament only to find themselves out after a single term, their political careers as short-lived as the news cycle they once covered. Still, many journalists are drawn to the uncertainty of politics. But does their background equip them for success, or does the unpredictability of politics prove too great a challenge?

After spending 12 years working in the Press Gallery for the Daily Record, a Scottish tabloid, Crichton was elected as a Labour MP for Na h-Eileanan an Iar (formerly the Western Isles) in Scotland during the 2024 general election. With almost three decades of reporting under his belt, Crichton has had to learn how to make stories, and not just tell them.

“I’ve gone from being the guy firing the penalties to the guy trying to save the goals,” says Crichton.

Crichton grew weary of being the storyteller, and that was one of the primary catalysts for his career change. “The further up the tree you went in journalism, the more you were just throwing stones into the river,” he says. “I decided I wanted to change the course, and to do that, you have to get into the river.”

One of the most striking revelations in his shift from journalist to politician was realising that, outside the

“I’ve gone from being the guy firing the penalties to the guy trying to save the goals”

Westminster bubble, “nobody was obsessing about Prime Minister’s Questions”. Crichton began to realise, “people have their own lives, their own problems, their own priorities.”

Even so, as an MP, Crichton feels empowered in a way he once did as a local reporter.

“In local newspapers, you write about an issue, and you can change people’s lives—save schools, get the road built, or make the ferry run on time. I reconnected with that feeling of being able to help people, and I decided that’s what I wanted to do.”

That said, it’s not always clear how much influence

MPs, particularly backbenchers, truly wield in shaping policy. Party whips dictate how they vote to ensure legislation passes, and those who rebel risk exclusion from the party. If you’re part of the opposition party, your influence may be even more limited. Yet, Michael Gove, who served as the lead writer for The Times before becoming a Conservative MP in 2005, likens opposition politics to a form of journalistic inquiry.

“If you’re thinking about [the Department of] Education, there’s a lot of information. You can imagine being a features writer for a newspaper and thinking: how do we define ‘best performing’, what other information is out there, what other principles can we identify?”

Initially, Gove worked as a shadow cabinet member. While this position holds no direct power, its primary function is to scrutinise and critique government policy. Here, Gove’s journalistic instincts served him well and he went on to hold six separate senior government roles between 2010 and 2024.

Gove remains adamant that “the skills or habits of mind that you develop as a journalist” propelled him to the forefront of the Conservative party.

First and foremost is “being able to tell a clear story”. When journalists shift to the political world, they are capable of “communicating the essence of what [they’re] trying to do. If they’ve got a sense of direction, it makes it easier to anticipate or interpret any particular decision.”

After nearly 20 years in Westminster, Gove retired as an MP in the last general election and made a notable return

DOWNING STREET

to journalism as the new editor of The Spectator. Yet he remains firm in defending the notion that journalists can thrive in politics.

“People have sometimes been dismissive of the idea of journalists in politics because the impression has been created that journalists treat politics as though they are writing an 800-word op-ed [before] moving on to the next shiny subject that attracts their eye,” he says. Nonetheless, he argues that this misconception ignores journalists’ ability to “ask hard questions, to get to the heart of the truth”.

“Amongst the miasma of information, what is the story here?” the ex-MP says. He explains that when dealing with bureaucracy, “journalists are used to asking daft questions,” a skill that cuts through the jargon-filled policy documents.

This is precisely the issue new Labour MP Yuan Yang seeks to address.

“I often speak to my team about writing style and how we communicate with constituents,” she says.

Yang spent ten years in journalism, beginning her career at The Economist before moving to the Financial Times, where she served as their Europe-China correspondent.

“Something I really want to emphasise is getting away from the formal tone in which politicians often speak, or the way civil servants write briefing documents. If you read any government website, you wonder how much is actually for public consumption in a way that people really comprehend and understand.” Yang left journalism

behind to become the Labour MP for Earley and Woodley in 2024.

“As a journalist, you’re taught to write in a straightforward and often quite blunt way,” she says. “I think that’s what good political communication would look like.”

Reflecting on her decision to make the leap into politics, she says, “The FT would still carry on producing really good, high-quality journalism around the world. At the same time, thinking of the early 2020s, looking at Parliament, I was pretty sure that was the place that needed an injection of new blood, new ideas, new talent, and that was the place where I would have more impact.”

Having spent years interviewing politicians and investigating stories for major news outlets, Yang now finds herself with a unique perspective in her new role.

“Having been in news journalism, I still read anything – whether a policy briefing or an article –with the lens of: where is the news in this?” she says. “I can imagine, for a lot of new MPs who aren’t used to the level of scrutiny that the media applies, it can often feel unfair.”

Yet she also understands the journalist’s perspective: if something is “clearly newsworthy, that’s why [they’re] publishing that rather than the rest of the interview.”

Ultimately, journalists and politicians share key skills, but their objectives are fundamentally different. One crafts policy, the other dissects it. Their goals diverge, and as Yang aptly puts it, even after making the leap into politics, one must remember that “the media should not be a conveyor belt for political messaging.”

Yang’s ex-colleague, George Parker, the political editor of the Financial Times, agrees that although there is a level of “familiarity” when interviewing politicians who used to be journalists, at the end of their jobs are different.

Parker has been the political editor at the FT for nearly two decades and has seen many of his colleagues move across to the other side of the fence. He has worked alongside Crichton, Gove, and Yang, describing reporting on his colleagues as “a strange experience”.

“There are usually quite a lot of knowing nods and winks, because we both know the game that they have to play as politicians,” says Parker.

“Frankly, it’s an easier job being a journalist than being a politician,” he says, “sitting on this side of the fence, we can write whatever we’d like, and we’re not constantly thinking about the voters, or pissing off the prime minister or the party leader.”

Despite this relationship, Parker insists former hacksturned-politicos won’t get an easier ride because of their shared history.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the Jeremy Paxman argument that a relationship between a journalist and a politician should be [the same as] the relationship between the dog and the lamppost,” says Parker. “We do different jobs, that’s something both sides have to remember.”

Living la dolce vita

Backstage designer moments and swanky sandwich stops – Lucy Keitley chats to Hattie Brett about a typical day at Milan Fashion Week

People always ask, how do you decide what to wear for fashion week? But the reality is, I’m in a hotel room without my two kids clinging to my legs; trying to navigate their packed lunch or checking they’ve got their homework. It’s a luxury.

Looking chic and feeling comfortable is what I opt for. Brands sometimes lend you clothes to wear to their show. I like how you can see how different people wear the same items.

After a big breakfast, I leave the hotel for a day of anything from three to six shows. I go with my associate editor, Jane McFarland, who heads up fashion, beauty, and luxury.

When I arrive at a show, I check with the PR and find out which talent is coming. When you get an interview, you only have three questions. You have to be focused on what the right question is for the audience and how you are using that content – whether it’s for a snappy TikTok video or a longer report.

I find out beforehand if there is a big model moment happening. We knew Lila Moss would be walking for Versace, so I knew I needed to capture that for our Grazia audience.

There isn’t a lunch break. You’re grabbing something when you can between appointments. I always try to have a gelato. Everyone goes to this cafe called Bar Luce – it’s designed by Wes Anderson and they make pretty cakes and a nice sandwich.

Outside of shows, there is an appointment every hour either for backstage previews or meetings with brands, photographers, stylists, and writers.

One thing I love about fashion month is getting to meet the designers. In Paris, I spoke to Dior’s Maria Grazia Chiuri about designing Mikey Madison’s Oscar dress. It’s a richer experience getting to understand the work and thought that goes into the pieces.

I also want to understand how fashion sits within the context of the world. It’s Grazia’s 20th anniversary and when we launched our mission was to cover “news and shoes” – a controversial idea at the time that a woman could be interested in politics, as much as she is in fashion, skincare, and culture.

Three years ago in Milan, we were here when the Ukraine war began. I felt it was my responsibility as a journalist at fashion week to be reporting on how brands were feeling about that, or if they were making political statements on the catwalk.

I spent a lot of time phoning around to find a photographer who could go and safely take photographs of four women on the Ukrainian front line. We ended up publishing them a few days later; four brilliant covers I remain really proud of.

I’m covering the shows as they happen and reporting key trends from the runway. Our readers want to feel like they’re behind the scenes, getting access to designers and talent.

The big themes emerging from the shows will shape what we cover in fashion issues – this year I saw lots of Ganni flats and fur.

To finish the day, there is a nine o’clock show and dinner afterwards with a brand. It’s a chance to have some face time and plan ideas but also, let’s be honest, to have some pasta. It’s a long day and you need it.

For the afterparty, you feel pressure to go because you don’t want to miss a moment. I was at a Chanel show when suddenly Snoop Dogg started performing. You never know what an event is going to kick up.

Around 1am, I get back to the hotel and try to wind down. Normally I realise I haven’t posted on my personal social account. I’m there as editor-in-chief of Grazia, but I think people want to understand the individuals behind a brand. I show more of the candid stuff on my socials.

It’s a really busy time but also productive – you have lots of ideas for the following six months.

It’s a privilege getting to see incredible art performances, which is what good catwalks are, but it’s also nice getting back to take my kids to World Book Day.

Photos provided by Hattie Brett and Nathan Higham

We’re Still Here: Reporting on Brazilian dictatorship

The Brazilian press has repeatedly alternated between being a tool of military control and a target of repression. Now, 40 years later, the scars of the dictatorship are still being felt.

Understanding the lasting impact of Brazil’s military dictatorship prevents history from repeating itself. And in order to move forward, historians believe it’s important to recognise the media’s complicity while also learning from the many journalists who resisted the regime.

In the early years, much of the press supported the military dictatorship which was installed after a coup d’état in 1964 acting as its propaganda arm. Many of these outlets “not only practiced self-censorship in accordance with the government’s rules but also actively supported them,” explains historian André Bonsanto, whose work explores the relationship between the military regime and the press.

As the dictatorship began to weaken in the 70s and 80s, one of Brazil’s most influential newspapers, Folha de São Paulo, began to alter its stance, rebranding itself as socially progressive.“Folha reflected the country’s changing political and social landscape,” Bonsanto says. “As Brazil changed, so did the newspaper.”

In 2009, Folha sparked controversy with an editorial titled “Ditadura de uma Ditablanda” (“A Bland Dictatorship”), which suggested that Brazil’s military rule was relatively mild compared to other regimes. The article ignited a national debate on the degree of totalitarian control exercised by the government.

Forty years after the regime officially ended, Ioná Corrêa and Maria Vieira explore its ongoing effects in journalism today Photo:

Eunice Paiva spent years begging the Brazilian press to tell the true story behind her husband’s disappearance. For decades, journalism in Brazil was stifled by a complicated history of violence and censorship. Now, the success of I’m Still Here, winner of the Academy Award for Best International Film, which tells the story of the forced disappearance of political dissident Rubens Paiva in 1971, is helping the country grapple with its complex legacy.

When freelance political journalist Cynara Menezes started her journalism career in the 1990s, she believed Brazil had moved past the dictatorship which officially ended in 1985. “My formative years were during the period of redemocratisation. I thought the dictatorship was behind us and that we would never experience anything like it again.”

According to Menezes, many people have since downplayed the severity of what being under dictatorship was like, “and the media is partly responsible for that.”

Bonsanto argues that Folha has played a prominent role in fostering conspiracy theories that distort the dictatorship’s history. He connects this revisionism to far-right propaganda, particularly that of former president Jair Bolsonaro, who claimed in 2017 that the dictatorship was not as bad as the left portrays and had saved Brazil from a communist takeover. “While there are many factors that contributed to this,” Bonsanto says, “Folha helped legitimise the narrative that the dictatorship wasn’t that bad.”

While Brazil’s dictatorship has been discussed less than those in Argentina or Chile, it was just as brutal. Over 20,000 people were tortured, and there were officially 434 deaths and disappearances, according to the National Truth Commission - which was put in place to expose the long-buried violations of human rights under the military regime. In reality, the numbers are likely to be higher than official records reveal, as it does not consider the thousands of peasants and indigenous people who were killed by the regime.

Menezes, who has contributed to Folha, has written extensively about the dictatorship for Socialista Morena, the magazine she founded. She stresses the importance

of remembering journalists who were tortured and killed for speaking out. “Folha, O Globo–these publications survived because they promoted the regime. Meanwhile, newspapers that defied the dictatorship, like Diário Carioca and Semanário, were destroyed, and their journalists suffered the consequences.” She adds that while many journalists working for Folha opposed the dictatorship, they had no choice but to remain silent. “Speaking out was a risk. They saw what happened to those who did.”

One journalist who suffered consequences from speaking out was Paulo Cannabrava Filho. When the dictatorship began in 1964, he was a political reporter for Última Hora, one of the few newspapers that openly opposed the coup on April 1, when the military assumed power. The following day, Filho arrived at work to find the office surrounded by troops. Cars had been set on fire, tables overturned, and typewriters shattered on the pavement. “That was the last day I went to the office,” he recalls. “It was terrible. I had two children at home, but suddenly I had no job to support them.” Although he eventually found work, his insistence on writing for publications that resisted the dictatorship, such as Correio da Manhã, led him to ultimately flee to Cuba to avoid imprisonment. “It was too dangerous for me to stay in Brazil.”

Another victim of the dictatorship was journalist Vladimir Herzog whose death is widely considered the turning point for the restoration of Brazilian democracy. Herzog was an active member of the resistance as a part of Brazil’s Communist Party, and was news director at TV Cultura, a station managed by the government of São Paulo. He reported on the first decade of dictatorship, exposing the regime’s abuses and advocating for press freedom. Under the pretense of summoning Herzog to testify about his connection to the Brazilian Communist Party, which at this point existed illegally, army agents

“Speaking out was a risk. They saw what happened to those who did”

detained and tortured him. The day after his arrest, the journalist’s body was found hanging in his cell. His death certificate – which stated he had “committed suicide”, making him the 38th person allegedly do so after being arrested by the military – was never accepted by the general public as truthful. The suspicion that authorities were using false reports to systematically cover up deaths by torture is now a known fact and, at the time, the mistrust of the certificate, combined with the fact that Herzog was a well-known and admired public figure, caused an immediate uprising.

Herzog’s death sent shockwaves across the country. Although the dictatorship did not officially end until 1985, his murder became a catalyst for Brazil’s return to democracy. He remains a symbol of the fight for freedom, representing both the journalists who spoke out publicly and those who resisted in quieter but equally powerful ways.

Last autumn, journalist and historian Luiza Villaméa, won the Vladimir Herzog Award - an honour given to those whose work has excelled in the defense of democracy and human rights - for her book A Torre: O cotidiano de mulheres encarceradas pela ditadura (‘The Tower: The Everyday Life of the Women Incarcerated by Dictatorship’).

The book documents the experiences of female political prisoners held in the infamous Torre das

Donzelas (Maidens’ Tower) at the Tiradentes Prison.“It’s really important to talk about the past, because it influences the present,” says Villaméa. “And it determines the future.”

Long after the dictatorship ended, reporting on these events remained a challenge. It was not until 20 years after the regime’s fall that archives about disappeared individuals from this time were made public. Even then, it took a long time for people to overcome their fear of sharing their stories.“People didn’t speak of it,” Villaméa explains. “The dictatorship had ended, but it took a very long time to be spoken about. There were rare exceptions, but people were afraid.”

Some still are. Villaméa recently contacted a lowranking military officer for an interview, and his initial response was: “That’s a very dangerous subject.” However, throughout her interviews with over 100 individuals for her book, she also found that many are willing to speak. “Some women were already used to speaking, even in public, about the trajectory they had during and after dictatorship,” she says.

While some journalists have minimised the dictatorship’s legacy, others continue to expose its crimes. With I’m Still Here sharing the essential story of Paiva’s disappearance, the need to preserve this history and honour the journalists who risked everything, remains as important as ever.

Photo:

For the greater Goodall

The podcaster talks to Clara Taylor and Lucy Keitley about his “totalising” news obsession, Trump impersonations and not caring what the PM thinks

Outside of an election, you’d be hard pressed to find a busier week in political reporting than the one where Trump ripped up the transatlantic alliance, aligned with Russia, and the UK began playing a leading role in uniting Europe.

Of course, for Lewis Goodall, it’s just another day in the office. “We’re no longer dealing with once in a generation incidents, it’s once a week,” he exclaims. At least, Trump’s given Goodall ample material to work on his impersonation which he breaks into sporadically throughout our conversation. And we must say, it’s very convincing – it may even give Alec Baldwin’s SNL Trump character a run for its money.

Goodall’s star has risen remarkably in the last few years. After leaving his policy editor role at BBC’s Newsnight in 2022, he joined The News Agents – the award winning daily news podcast – as co-host alongside industry heavyweights Emily Maitlis and Jon Sopel. Now, aged just 35, he’s one of the UK’s leading political correspondents.

Speaking from a central London studio with The New Agents branding emblazoned behind him, Goodall is every inch the professional. In a smart grey blazer and shirt, he has a restless presence, as if he’s ready to report live at a moment’s notice – something he has certainly had plenty of practice at.

The political reporter and broadcaster has just finished up a spree of live shows for The News Agents podcast in Birmingham, Manchester and Edinburgh. Leaning forward in his seat, Goodall appears engaged and energised this evening, despite admitting to having been up until 4am the night before listening to Trump’s speech to congress – which, in Trump fashion, was the longest address in the last 60 years. Perhaps he’s already declaring it his best

speech ever, the most incredible address in history.

“Someone had told me that he was going to pull out of NATO. To be honest, it was so boring that almost by the end of it I was willing him to pull out,” Goodall says emphatically, with a chuckle.

The first journalism Goodall remembers absorbing is The Sun newspaper, which his dad bought every day (“It’s surprising I didn’t become more right wing!”). Otherwise, his working class family expressed no explicit interest in politics. His dad worked as a welder at the Rover factory in Birmingham and Goodall was conscious of “hushed conversations” between his parents about the factory’s seemingly constant threat of closure. Interrogating these experiences “whetted [his] appetite for politics”, which got satiated further by his love for broadcast shows like Newsnight and the Today programme.

These programmes became Goodall’s window into the world of journalism. “Those shows expanded my horizons.” But breaking into the industry as someone with a state school education came with challenges. Journalism is notoriously dominated by the privately educated and privileged, a stereotype that Goodall believes “persists for a reason”. “The industry is increasingly plagued by short-term contracts and precarious employment. That makes it even harder for people without financial security to take the risk,” Goodall explains.

It’s a subject he’s clearly passionate about. He muses wistfully: “Journalism is a mirror to society, and if the people holding up that mirror come from the same background, they’ll inevitably miss important stories.”

Despite these barriers to entry, Goodall succeeded and at a relatively young age, landed his first producer

role at the BBC in his early twenties after graduating from the University of Oxford in 2011 with a degree in history and politics.

In between stints at the BBC, Goodall also held a high flying role as a political correspondent for Sky News, where he gained prominence for his analysis of Brexit and UK politics. Impressively, he has managed to cover pretty much every major political event in the last ten years –including the Charlie Hebdo attacks in Paris and reporting live from the Ukrainian border at the start of the Russian invasion.

It must have taken more than just sharp elbows to rise to prominence among the old guard of traditional broadcasting. Goodall credits his “sheer bloody mindedness” as one reason for his success. He recounts an incident at the BBC when he was “desperate” to get in front of the camera: “I basically spent every day trying to get them to let me present. I was even once accidentally forwarded an email by one of the higher ups saying ‘It’s pathetic. Why won’t he shut up!’”

His passion for politics undeniably played a critical role too. When the conversation turns to the topic, he physically lights up, speaking zealously and at length. He admits to being “the sad person that watches old election coverage on YouTube”.

“My BBC colleagues get attacked all the time”

This career is not for the fainthearted. “News is a completely totalising lifestyle,” he says. Last weekend, on a trip to Kent, a leisurely dinner with colleagues had to be interrupted by an emergency podcast after the TrumpZelensky oval office debacle. “If your reaction to that is ‘oh what a pain’, then you’re probably in the wrong business.”

It’s no surprise that Goodall, a politics obsessive, was enticed by the promise of increased editorial freedom through The News Agents. His departure from the BBC was reportedly driven by conflicting views on impartiality, but Goodall claims this is just one of “those things that gets written up” and is, in fact, a misconception.

“I had my frustrations at times with how the BBC interprets impartiality [...] but that wasn’t the reason. The reason was that I was excited by the prospect of The News Agents.” The daily news and politics podcast, in which Goodall, Sopel and Maitlis offer analysis and interview guests, reached 100 million downloads last year. The show is a veritable success and rival to legacy media like the BBC.

While Goodall holds great respect for his former employer and past colleagues (“I still have a huge amount of affection for my colleagues who work there [...] and they get attacked all the time”), he remains unconvinced by the broadcaster’s approach to impartiality.

As politics becomes increasingly complex and the key players go rogue, to be truly impartial feels like an impossible feat. “One of the problems with the old impartiality model is that it only really works when there are two overwhelming factors in politics,” Goodall explains. “One is that all of the main players obey the rules. The other one is that it works well when politics operates within a narrow set of parameters.”

He uses the example of Boris Johnson’s decision to prorogue parliament at the height of the Brexit crisis in 2019 – an act the Supreme Court later unanimously deemed unlawful. “The BBC struggles to know how to

deal with that, because then they go, ‘Are we calling them lies? We shouldn’t be doing that. But what if they have lied?’ That’s difficult.” Bring in Trump and it’s getting even trickier.

Goodall frequently punctuates his speech with questions or chucks a “right?” on the end of a sentence. In this lightly combative way, he interrogates and questions his way to the solution in real time.

At the BBC, he ended up feeling like he was managing “people’s impressions of impartiality”, rather than pursuing impartiality itself. Editors were constantly adding qualifiers to his script, saying , “‘Yes, but Lewis, you’ve got to think, what would the prime minister say if he were watching it?’ And I was like, ‘Well, I couldn’t care less’.”

“I couldn’t care less what the prime minister thinks”

Questions around impartiality are, of course, not unique to UK media. In the US, during his election campaign, Donald Trump threatened to jail reporters, and in the two months since assuming office, he has threatened to sue The Wall Street Journal and banned non-compliant reporters from White House press conferences.

Goodall views Trump’s threats as a “genuine threat to press freedoms”. To him, one of the worst parts of the Zelensky oval office fallout wasn’t necessarily Trump or Vance, but the “badger baiting from their propagandist news reporters” who have only been granted access to the White House by virtue of pedalling Trump’s rhetoric. Goodall’s distaste is palpable and there’s certainly no mistaking his feelings on the matter when he labels the direction of travel for the US press as “totally sick”.

Goodall describes Trump’s “gravitational” influence that stretches across media and politics, making him largely

inescapable even to those that exist outside his orbit. Many have questioned whether this is a ploy for attention, or a tactic by which he floods the news as a means of distraction. For Goodall, it’s both, but “Trump’s insatiable thirst for media attention” is at the forefront of everything he does. “There are few political figures on earth who could rival him for attention, except for Zelensky. It’s part of the reason Trump hates him so much.”

People, himself included, he admits, frequently fall foul of “over intellectualising Trump” and thinking there’s a strategy to his erraticism. To Goodall, “one of Trump’s greatest assets is that he thinks about politics less than anyone else”. It’s likely there is no underlying intention or looking at the bigger picture, he simply says whatever

Jon Sopel, Emily Mailtlis, and Lewis Goodall on The News Agents

he thinks at any given moment. Any suggestion otherwise is an overestimation of Trump’s abilities.

Covering the Trump administration specifically, and global geopolitics generally, must be hugely pressurising. Goodall leans further forward and winces when he admits that this is mainly an internal pressure he puts on himself: “We’re living in a time where journalism is really, really important.” As a result, he’s “always thinking about whether [I’m] guiding people through what’s going on in the news in the best way possible – [am I] talking to the right people, thinking in the right way, or have [I] got everything totally wrong.”

Are podcasts journalism’s best hope in a changing world? To Goodall, they are an important part of the nation’s news consumption, though not the whole diet. He sees a place for TV news for older audiences but notes viewership is “declining every year”. In part, because traditional news reporting doesn’t reflect how the modern person engages with content: “It feels like eating your greens or going to church. You sit down at 10pm every night and you’re like, ‘Right, I’m going to be informed now’. Never mind under 30, under 40, even under 50, people don’t operate like that.”

He adds, “If you’re a hyper news person, you’ve probably already heard it, because it’s already come through on this thing,” waving at his phone. Podcasting’s role in the news space is as “an evolution of broadcast news which is additive and augmenting what you’ve already heard”, according to Goodall. In a Trumpian age of news-flooding, a podcast like The News Agents hones in on specific stories and offers the much needed nuance.

“Most people are podcasting from their bedrooms”

According to Goodall, the unique pull of a podcast comes through “personalities” and “the attitude in which the news is told”. He acknowledges whether “for good or for ill”, that the individual is king in our current media landscape and that podcasts benefit from this: “Podcasts, which are inevitably often quite centered to some extent on the individual authority of the people involved, suit the age that we’re in.”

The News Agents is not without its competitors, with podcasts like The Rest is Politics or Political Currency, attracting equally fervent fan bases. What’s the difference? A focus on daily news –pure and simple: “The News Agents is unique in the sense that it is, for starters, daily, but secondly, it’s actually properly news, the others actually more on current affairs.”

“Most of these people are podcasting – no offense Alastair and Rory – from their bedrooms,” he trails off with a laugh. “And they probably have a lot of [bedrooms] with the kind of money they’re on. We do it from a studio every day, or we do it on the ground somewhere. It’s still all the ingredients of a traditional news show, but it’s updated to a modern format, and that is different from any of our rivals.”

In theory, the rise of podcasts as a medium, along with social media, is a democratising force in an industry that Goodall himself acknowledges

remains elitist – even if the most successful projects do benefit from big names like his own and colleagues, Maitlis and Sopel.

While Goodall agrees this can create the impression that there are “no gatekeepers in journalism”, in reality, it isn’t so clear cut. He cautions the old-guard of broadcasting from underestimating the challenges young journalists face in today’s industry: “To me, there’s a bit of the ‘what are you complaining about, you’ve got Netflix and avocado on toast’ element to that. Whereas, what any young journalist still needs is guidance, support, and usually, an institutional framework to help you be the best that you can be.”

Equally, he comes back to journalism’s function to help the public navigate the swathes of information and mistruths. “If everybody’s got a microphone, then it’s very difficult to hear the good stuff,” he says. “We’re paid [as journalists] to actually sift through all of the noise and tell people what’s important.”

Seasoned prose

Lara Iqbal Gilling talks to veteran journalists about working past retirement age

Do you want to work until you’re 90? Neither do most of us, but a handful of dedicated journalists plug away into their twilight years. What keeps these journalists writing well past retirement age when they should be gardening or keeping bees?

At 89 years old, Hunter Davies “never thought” he would still be writing. He is a columnist at the New Statesman, Saga Magazine, and The Sunday Times, as well as The Beatles’ only authorised biographer.

Having an “excuse to be nosy” is his favourite part of the job. Despite his experience, he still finds “being amusing and readable” a welcome challenge. “I enjoy writing about myself – my favourite subject. Especially with age. It means I can do a thousand words without going anywhere.”

Now 68, Garrett cannot picture life without his “late flowering” career as an investigative reporter. “I can’t imagine coming across a scoop and not thinking, ‘that’s a good story, who’d be interested in publishing that?’ I imagine that that instinct will live with me for good, partly because I can’t sit still.”

He describes himself as “incredibly fortunate” that he has other streams of income – a state and ITV workplace pension. “Luckily, I’m not trying to make a living from it as I did back in the eighties. It’s more of a pain if a story I’m confident should make it into a magazine doesn’t. But I wouldn’t do it for free.”

Rusbridger has no shortage of inspirations for latein-life journalism. His “great hero”, Sir Harold Evans, was still editor-at-large at Reuters when he passed away at age 92. “He had incredible energy and was endlessly curious,” Rusbridger says admiringly.

“There’s a great high from editing”

Alan Rusbridger, the 71-year-old editor of Prospect magazine, enjoys the “huge kick” of editing too much to seriously consider retirement. “Quite often it’s not exactly what you wanted it to be, but there’s a great high from editing when it all works.”

Does he ever dream of a quieter life? “I do have fantasies about hopping off the hamster wheel. I play the piano and have other things I want to write,” he says. “At some point I’ll have to face reality and take it easier but at the moment I enjoy working very much.”

“For some people it would be their idea of hell, but if you’ve got that journalistic curiosity, then it is a career that can keep going for a long time,” he continues. “My brain is well suited to the butterfly-like activity of doing something entirely new every day.”

Taking a break from being a reporter brought James Garrett back to his love of journalism. After a ten year “rabbit hole” of being a TV producer, Garrett was about to retire. “Work dried up. It wasn’t what got me excited anyway.” Then, a contact from his reporting days reached out to him with a story that ended up being published in Private Eye. “I was transported back about 30 years,” he says. “I got really excited about doing that again.”

The youngest person in Prospect’s newsroom is 22 years old. “I hope there are things I know about journalism that they don’t, and things they know about the world that I don’t.”

TURNS 30

As the UK’s

leading men’s magazine celebrates its birthday, Vipin Chimrani asks 30 questions to editor Scarlett Wrench

1/ Are men talking more about their health issues than they did 30 years ago?

I would say yes, but there is still a long way to go. London media is a bubble where it feels like it’s incredibly easy to talk about mental health, but in other parts of the UK, the culture is not the same.

2/ Which specific areas of men’s health has the magazine helped change the conversation about?

About 12 years ago, we did a big piece about depression among men. For a long time, our November issue has been a mental health special, whether that’s mental health in the workplace, military, or among young people.

3/ How does Men’s Health decide which stories are important?

We offer people solutions and proactive tips. We don’t tend to do a story that highlights a terrible struggle without also offering positivity or hope.

6/ If you were launching Men’s Health today, what would it look like?

It would look the same as it does now. Being a media brand means constantly changing, and that’s what we’re trying to do.

7/ Which has been your most successful campaign?

The #MendTheGap campaign, which explored how the NHS would treat someone with a physical health emergency versus someone with a mental health emergency.

8/ How do the magazine’s sections reflect the different pillars of men’s health?

We’ve got a dedicated nutrition section and a mental health section called Head Strong. There’s also The Adventurist, where we explore ways to move your body outside a gym environment.

9/ Do you think social media has a net positive or negative impact on people’s wellbeing?

I lean more towards net negative, partly because I spend way too much time on it. But there are loads of really cool, interesting people doing cool things.

10/ Does Men’s Health have a strategy to counter misinformation on social media?

We’re not in the business of debunking people. That’s a difficult road to go down. We just post our content.

11/ Which social media platform do you recommend for health information?

I feel like they’re all the same. I don’t personally like X, but Men’s Health still has a presence there.

12/ What do you think about the explosion of fitness influencers on social media?

No one at Men’s Health is anti-fitness influencer. I hope people can use their instincts in deciding who to follow and not follow.

13/ What does it take to be the Men’s Health’s cover? We might have a coach or a fitness influencer on the cover. Or it might be a musician like Stormzy. We wouldn’t put someone on the cover who didn’t want to talk about fitness.

Scarlett Wrench, editor of Men’s Health

4/ How do you find stories that have not already become trends?

I have a mindset that going for a coffee or a training session with someone, getting out into the world, is the best way to really get a sense of what people are talking about.

5/ Has there been a change in tone to reflect evolving conversations about masculinity and gender?

There’s been a huge change in tone because, ultimately, the brand reflects society. The tone of voice is a combination of everyone who is contributing.

14/ Which has been your favourite cover?

Stormzy had very strong feelings about what we should be putting in the magazine. He made it logistically challenging but editorially satisfying.

15/ Who would you love to have on the cover?

If Idris Elba is reading this, then drop me an email. It’d be cool.

16/ Are Men’s Health readers drinking more or less?

There’s been a rise in sobriety among younger generations, but men in their 50s are still drinking quite heavily. We learned from a survey we did in 2023 that a lot of [Men’s Health] readers have quit drinking

17/ Is it true that Men’s Health has red wine handy during cover shoots because it makes models appear svelte?

I’ve never heard that one. I can imagine that happening on magazine shoots before 2010. I feel now it just wouldn’t be cool culturally.

Photos provided by Hearst

18/ Are there other tricks that are used during cover shoots?

You’ll always see people doing bicep curls and pressups. People probably follow an exercise and nutrition plan in the leadup to the cover because they want to present themselves in a certain way.

19/ Has a cover ever pulled a muscle or had an injury before a shoot?

Gordon Ramsay had a big bike crash in the leadup to his shoot, and had loads of purple bruising all down his body. But it healed really quickly. Maybe it’s his amazing diet and good fitness.

20/ There has been a cultural backlash about portraying perfect bodies of women in magazines. How do you navigate that with men?

We’ve shifted away from training for aesthetic outcomes and towards training for performance. Ultimately, people do still want to train for aesthetic goals, but we cannot provide that information.

21/ Is there an edict in the office of Men’s Health that writers have to be fit in order to work there?

You don’t need to look a certain way to work at Men’s Health. I’m not going to start going through people’s bodies because that would be a bit creepy and weird.

22/ What qualities does a journalist need to work for Men’s Health?

We have personal trainers who have nutrition qualifications, but it’s not necessary. I don’t have those qualifications. I’m just a journalist.

23/ What’s your goal for Men’s Health in 2025?

My goal would be to grow our membership offering for the Men’s Health SQUAD programme. People who sign up get access to the Men’s Health app, which has training plans and discounts on fitness brands.

24/ What about longer term goals?

To grow in different ways, because not everyone is going to want to buy a print magazine. I’d like to see the podcast grow, because that’s a new way to reach our audience.

25/ What are the most challenging pieces to write?

Those sort of investigative pieces where you have to make sure everything you’re saying is watertight. You have to make sure that everyone’s given the right of reply.

26/ A woman probably would never have been the editor of a men’s magazine 30 years ago. Does that change signify something positive?

I don’t see it as a big ideological thing. I don’t want to imply that I run the show. I’m just one of a team of people who are all doing very good work collectively.

27/ Do you ever look back at those Nineties issues and think “what were we doing?!”

All the dating advice was just a bit cringe. But I was a child back then, so that’s nothing to do with me.

28/ Which Men’s Health piece has had the biggest global impact?

The David Beckham cover [for the April 2025 issue, pictured] is our first global cover. He’s a British star who is appearing in 10 territories throughout the world.

29/ Which piece are you most proud of personally? One of our contributors [Ian Taylor] wrote a personal essay on fatherhood last year. Afterwards, we surveyed readers to ask them whether they had sufficient support in those first few weeks of being a father, and some of their fears and concerns. I found that very enlightening.

30/ In your time as editor, which piece has received the most backlash? There’s nothing that’s ever caused me to lose sleep.

(Left) first issue of Men’s Health, featuring Michael Schumacher

X used to be the undisputed digital plaza for journalists, where breaking news, sourcing case studies, and industry networking converged. In 2025, that’s all changed – Daisy Finch and Hebe Hancock explore which platforms journalists are turning to now, and why

XIAOHONGSHU

(RED NOTE/LITTLE RED BOOK)

China’s Rising Social Media Giant

'China’s Instagram meets Pinterest,' Xiaohongshu is increasingly being used by journalists looking to engage with global audiences.

FOLLOWER COUNT ~260 million monthly active users NOTABLE JOURNALISTS Popular among China-focused analysts and reporters

EASE OF USE/SHAREABILITY

Visual storytelling, evergreen content, heavily curated feeds JOURNALISM RATING

PROS

Growing audience outside of China

Less focus on real-time news—better for in-depth pieces

Opportunity to reach Chinese-speaking audiences

CONS

Heavy government content moderation

Limited accessibility for Western journalists

Not designed for breaking news or political reporting

EXPERT VIEW “Xiaohongshu is great for lifestyle content, but journalists have to be cautious due to its regulatory ties” — Megha Rajagopalan, The New York Times

With no single channel replacing X, creators are using different platforms for different purposes. Bluesky and Threads are X's closest direct competitors, while LinkedIn and Substack offer alternative approaches for engagement and monetisation. None have fully taken X’s crown yet.

As Professor Charlie Beckett, founder of LSE's JournalismAI project, explains: “People kept saying: ‘is Threads the next one? Is Bluesky the next one?’ I think that’s the wrong question.” He says newsletters, which build direct communication networks between creators and audiences, offer a more promising solution.

"It’s all about inviting feedback from your own sphere of influence," says Ben Smith, editor-in-chief of American news website Semafor. “The best newsletters and podcasts are trying to create a very particular

community. Ask the people nearest you: what are they interested in? What are they doing? What do they think?”

It’s this patronage model that offers creators a new level of independence. But Smith says journalists shouldn’t see this as a fix-all solution. “The less reliant you are on the whims of social media companies, the better. Experiment with new platforms – but don’t stake everything on them.”

It seems likely the future of reporting won’t be tied to a single platform. Instead, it will be defined by how well reporters can navigate this constantly shifting digital terrain. Smith concludes: “The core of journalism doesn’t change, no matter where it’s published.”

With that in mind, here are five alternatives to X that journalists are turning to, and an assessment on just how useful they really are.

BLUESKY

The Decentralised Contender

FOUNDED BY ex-Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey, Bluesky aims to offer a Twitter-like experience without the chaos of Musk-era X.

FOLLOWER COUNT ~3 million users (as of early 2024) NOTABLE JOURNALISTS Kara Swisher, Taylor Lorenz, Ryan Mac EASE OF USE/SHAREABILITY

KEY FEATURES Decentralised network, algorithm control, monetisation plans in development JOURNALISM RATING

PROS

Decentralised — users can control their feeds and avoid algorithmic interference

Active moderation tools meaning fewer instances of harmful content than X

Allows journalists to build communities without corporate oversight

CONS

Still a niche platform with limited audience reach No direct monetisation options yet Invite-only model limited early adoption (though it’s now open to all)

EXPERT VIEW “I did [a] post looking for case studies on both X and Bluesky – both seem to have resulted in similar numbers of responses/ engagement” – Kathryn Bromwich, Observer New Review

THREADS

Meta’s Attempt at a Twitter Rival

BUILT BY Instagram’s team, Threads is Meta’s text-based social app, seamlessly integrating with Instagram’s user base

FOLLOWER COUNT ~130 million users.

NOTABLE JOURNALISTS Brian Stelter, Jemele Hill, Molly Jong-Fast EASE OF USE/SHAREABILITY

KEY FEATURES Instagram integration, real-name policy, algorithm-driven feed JOURNALISM RATING

PROS

Easy transition for Instagram users

Backed by Meta’s vast infrastructure Less toxicity than X due to real-name policy

CONS

No API, making it difficult for news organisations to schedule posts

Algorithm prioritises lifestyle content over hard news No chronological feed, limiting real-time news updates

EXPERT VIEW “Threads is good for commentary, but it’s not built for breaking news. The lack of a trending section is a major drawback” — Taylor Lorenz, The Washington Post

SUBSTACK

The Journalist’s Direct-to-Reader Model

MORE THAN just a newsletter platform, Substack is now a full-fledged social network with its 'Notes' and 'Chat' features.

FOLLOWER COUNT ~20 million monthly readers NOTABLE JOURNALISTS Matt Taibbi, Bari Weiss, Casey Newton

EASE OF USE/SHAREABILITY

KEY FEATURES Direct subscription model, Notes (Twitter-like feed), paid content options JOURNALISM RATING

PROS

Direct revenue stream via paid subscriptions

Control over content — no algorithm interference

Loyal, niche audience for independent writers

CONS

Harder to build a mass audience compared to social media

Not ideal for real-time engagement

Some journalists feel pressured to monetise all their content

EXPERT VIEW “The best thing we can do is build direct relationships with our audiences — through newsletters, independent platforms, or even their own websites Substack, for example” – Ben Smith, Semafor

LINKEDIN

The Unexpected Hub for Journalism

ONCE JUST a professional networking tool, LinkedIn has increasingly become a space for long-form content and industry conversations.

FOLLOWER COUNT ~1 billion users

NOTABLE JOURNALISTS Nicholas Thompson, Kara Swisher, Charlie Warzel

EASE OF USE/SHAREABILITY

KEY FEATURES Long-form articles, industry-specific communities, algorithm favors professional engagement JOURNALISM RATING

PROS

High engagement on news-related posts

Supports long-form journalism and analysis

Credibility: Users are tied to real identities

CONS

Limited breaking news potential — slower-paced than X or Threads

Content leans towards business/finance rather than general news

Some journalists find it “too corporate”

EXPERT VIEW “There used to be break rooms and water coolers where people would stop and talk to each other about politics or current events in the workplace. It’d be interesting if it moves to a digital work space” – Dr Bobbie Foster, Assistant Professor of Journalism at the University of Arkansas

Clementine Scott explores the ethical dilemmas behind the personal essay genre

Writers are always selling somebody out,” said the late, great Joan Didion. Chances are, a particular article jumps to mind. Perhaps a writer’s ex-boyfriend was painted as a villain, a family member’s quirks were laid bare, or the demise of a friendship became material for a writer’s self-reflection. But where do we draw the line between candid personal writing and exploitation?

Many a literary feud has begun this way. Nearly six years on from Natalie Beach’s viral The Cut essay ‘I Was Caroline Calloway’, about her alleged experiences as the influencer’s exploited ghostwriter, Calloway still speaks publicly about the hurt the article caused her. Speaking to Interview, she recently called the essay a “tragedy” and an act of “public shaming”.

Conversely, she herself has been accused by Beach in The New Yorker of writing about Beach’s sexual assault without her former friend’s permission, in her own memoir Scammer. Beach told XCity that “it’s been years since I’ve read anything Caroline has written about me. I made the choice to let my writing speak for itself, and refrain from getting dragged into a public catfight.”

For Beach, reading Calloway’s writing has been about “accepting that when someone else writes about you, you’re becoming a character on a page who may not have any resemblance to who you are now”. It’s understandable to feel uncomfortable with performing a prescribed role in a story in which the writer is the protagonist, especially if your relationship with them has been difficult.

“I realised I was playing the victim while reading my drafts”

Unless you’re making very serious allegations and your subject is clearly identifiable, there’s not necessarily a legal risk here. Nevertheless, interpersonal relationships are complex, and seeing your every interaction laid bare in print isn’t really what you sign up for when interacting socially with a journalist.

The rise of social media has only made this style of journalism more popular, and more dangerous – novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s 2021 essay accusing former student Akwaeke Emezi of trying to profit from her fame resulted in a barrage of transphobic online abuse towards Emezi (who is non-binary). “Everything’s a social media headline. You read that a piece is about something like sex addiction, and you’re already thinking to yourself, ‘I know what this person is like,’” says Amy Beecham, a senior writer and editor at Stylist

Even if names are changed and identifying details omitted, a piece going viral means that somehow it will make it back to its subject, and to those who know them.

Millennial Love author Olivia Petter, who’s written on

everything from chlamydia to emotional unavailability, has seen first-hand the range of responses that come from this kind of writing.

“One man I dated was so smug he’d been written about, even though he didn’t come across well, that he told everyone he knew about it,” she confesses. Another used her writing as an opportunity to have “a really lovely conversation about our different perspectives”. The real ethical dilemma, though, comes when a subject is genuinely distressed by the prospect of reading about themselves, and of others reading about them.

The answer could be a humorous anecdote, or an acknowledgment of the situations in their own lives that caused them to behave as they did. There are also some practices that might qualify as ‘soft’ copy approval, like allowing a dispute time to develop and change before picking up your pen.

When Tim Dowling, a columnist at The Guardian who regularly writes about his wife and three sons, has a longer lead time on a column, and he’s considering whether to write about a recent argument with his wife, he’ll reflect on whether the issue “has got worse or has renewed itself. Sometimes I thought it was all resolved, but you never know what the extra week will bring.”

According to Rosalind Moody, the author of The Spark: Sex, Love and Spirituality in a Toxic Dating World, waiting before writing can also allow you to clarify your own feelings about a situation.

“I read my drafts as a reader would,” she says, “and figured out where I was playing the victim. It’s like therapy – you ask yourself ‘what am I holding back?’”

Writing can be an important step towards healing, but there’s also a question of whether publishing your writing serves the greater good. Moody sees her book as a charitable gesture, almost a public service. “I wanted to help people feel less shameful about being single, so the readers are more important than the men I’ve dated,” she says. It might be tempting to throw all rationalisation to one side, and claim that we don’t owe our subjects anything; Petter believes that “our stories are our own, and I don’t think we should sugarcoat anything for the sake of someone else’s ego.”

For Dowling, however, the resolution to this dilemma of whether to prioritise a healthy relationship over a good piece has always been clear. He nearly stopped writing his column when his wife didn’t speak to him for three days because of an early instalment. His solution? To write about their argument the following week, which led him to see his column as “an ongoing apology to my wife”.

On her decision to write about a former friend who is herself a writer, Beach says: “If I’m writing about a person who also is in the business of turning their personal life into material for public consumption, my feeling is they know the score, especially if they wouldn’t think twice about depicting me in their work.”

However, this is not to say that Beach doesn’t have ethical boundaries of her own. As well as being brutally honest about her relationships, she’s also uncompromising in her approach towards writing about herself.

“The character the writer needs to be the most honest and unsparing towards is herself on the page.”

Who Am

As new technology unfolds in newsrooms, Lorena Cristea asked three journalists to draw themselves using Google Gemini. Here’s what it came up with

Tom Foot

Deputy Editor for Camden New Journal and sister newspapers Westminster Extra and Islington Tribune

Tom’s AI prompt: “I am a very tired journalist in mid 40s. I have had three glasses of wine at lunch. I have 10 stories to write by 6pm. I have mostly grey and white hair and stubble. I have blue eyes and brown eyebrows. I am wearing a green hoodie.”

A self-proclaimed nepo baby, as he states on his Muck Rack bio,Tom Foot follows in the footsteps of his father and brings voice to the Islington community.

Laurence Mozafari

Editorial Director for the Youth Audience at Reach

Laurence’s AI prompt: “I have short black and grey hair swept back on top and short on the sides, brown eyes, black and grey stubble, and wearing a striped black and white T-shirt.”

With over a decade of experience in the publishing industry, multi-awarded digital journalist, presenter, and editor Laurence Mozafari has worked for various UK publications, including Heat magazine and NME. After spending nine years at Digital Spy as an Editor in Chief, where he wrote about all things entertainment and interviewed some of the greatest influential Hollywood people, he is now sharing his wisdom at Reach, working across the newsrooms of Daily Mirror, OK! Magazine, and more.

Jasmine Moody

Journalist at Times Radio and BBC Berkshire

Jasmine’s AI prompt: “I’m a young Chinese woman with long brown, almost black hair and dark brown eyes. I wear fake cat eyelashes and winged eyeliner with a dark pink lip. My eyebrows are brown, a few shades lighter than my hair.”

Jasmine is a content writer and assistant producer. She has worked with well-established broadcasting channels, such as Times Radio and BBC Berkshire. Outside of her career, she actively partakes in highlighting the interracial adoptee community, as a Chinese adoptee herself, via media and podcast appearances.

Illustrations by Google Gemini;

photos provided by

Laurence Mozafari, Tom Foot, and Jasmine Moody

Film journalists pick their Letterboxd Four

Whether you’re a casual film fan or a cinephile, Letterboxd is the place to share your musings. Cyna Mirzai asks the movie experts for their four favourites

Lily Ford UK reporter for The Hollywood Reporter

Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)

I was 16 when that film came out and I remember going to the cinema and thinking it was amazing. I was discovering what I wanted to do when I got older and how much I loved film and TV, so it will always have a very fond place in my heart.

OTHER FAVOURITES

Jane Crowther

Editor-in-Chief of Hollywood Authentic

Jaws (1975)

I don't know anyone who’s seen Jaws and hasn't been swimming on a summer holiday and thought, “Oh, I can see what I look like to a shark below.” The idea that we all know it's not real, but it pervades our psychology svo much that it affects us all, is so powerful and brilliant.

OTHER FAVOURITES

Some Like It Hot (1959)

Down with Love (2003)

Dirty Dancing (1987)

Casino Royale (2006)

Back to the Future (1985)

Memoirs of a Geisha (2005)

Illustrations by Yasmine Medjdoub

Guy Lodge Chief UK film critic for Variety

The Red Shoes (1948)

This was a film I saw when I was very little before I really understood what it meant. My dad showed me it because I loved fairytales and Hans Christian Andersen and this film is an interpretation of that. I think it’s still one of the most extraordinary feats of visual and sonic design ever achieved in film.

OTHER FAVOURITES

Tori Brazier

Clarisse Loughrey Chief film critic for The Independent

Mulholland Drive (2001)

David Lynch came to me when I was a teenager in the darkest period of my life, when I fundamentally did not understand the world. He deals so beautifully with the idea that the world can feel really hopeless and evil but love is still worth pursuing. Mulholland Drive is the perfect film about that feeling.

OTHER FAVOURITES

Film & Entertainment reporter for Metro

Singin’ in the Rain (1952)

This opened up the world of film for me in a new way. Watching that at 12 shot me from a casual film fan into a full-on nerd. I loved how it showed the film-making industry and how Hollywood began. I think it’s such a great example of storytelling

a musical.

OTHER FAVOURITES

in

Testament of Orpheus (1960)

Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)

Birth (2004)

Vox Lux (2018)

Notorious (1946)

Persona (1966)

Jules and Jim (1962)

Top Hat (1935)

Apocalypse Now (1979)

Accessibility denied

Despite the push for diversity, newsrooms continue to fail disabled journalists. Emily Warner and Amelia Brookes investigate the inaccessible workplaces and the Academy for Disabled Journalists funding crisis

Twenty years ago, Grant Logan’s life changed. His spine was crushed during a motorbike accident that left him unable to walk again. But he refused to be limited by this experience. He has since been rally driving, quad biking, paragliding and scuba diving – all from his wheelchair.

His work placed him at the centre of a disabled community in need of a voice, inspiring him to take action. This led to the creation of the first social network for wheelchair users – an endeavour that ultimately sparked his journey into journalism. From there, Logan launched Ability Today, a news website dedicated to disability issues. As the community grew, young volunteers joined, creating video content about their experiences of being disabled. “I realised this could be a path to employment for a lot of these people,” Grant says, which led in 2018 to the founding of the Academy for Disabled Journalists.

The Academy for Disabled Journalists

The Academy offers accessible NCTJ journalism courses for disabled people. Since its inception, many students have secured jobs with the BBC, ITV, and regional newspapers. However, due to difficulties in securing funding, it now faces imminent closure. Initially, the Academy was given five years of financial support from the National Lottery, but now that it’s ended, it is struggling to find alternatives. Its loss would be a major setback for disability-led journalism.

Disabled representation in journalism is improving

and many media organisations have taken steps towards accessibility: for example, the National Council for the Training of Journalists (NCTJ) offers a Journalism Diversity Fund for aspiring journalists and The Guardian runs a Positive Action Scheme for underrepresented groups in the industry. Yet, barriers remain for disabled journalists. From funding struggles to workplace inaccessibility, campaigners argue that simply hiring disabled people is not enough – newsrooms must also support them. Grant Logan has spent years fighting for change. But with the academy at risk of closure due to funding cuts, he fears that the industry’s commitment to disability inclusion is fading.

A recent report by Deloitte found that 40 per cent of respondents, all of whom were disabled journalists, experienced microaggressions, harassment or bullying at work and 44 per cent were unable to attend work events due to inaccessibility. Another study found that just 27 per cent of offices have lifts and accessible toilets.

Fewer than one in five media employees believe that newsroom diversity is a priority in their workplace and there is a lack of disabled journalists in senior decisionmaking positions. Meanwhile, analysis from the Trades Union Congress (TUC) has revealed that there is a significant disability pay gap, finding that non-disabled workers earn over 17 per cent

Erin Ekins, a freelance writer and autism advocate, has experienced this first-hand in her own career. “‘I work a nine-to-five and write on the side – not by choice, but because I can’t afford to be a full-time writer,’ says Ekins. “That’s a challenge for everyone, but for disabled people, it’s even harder. The cost of living is simply higher for us.”

Timeline of the Academy for Disabled Journalists

Even when she was able to secure a steady job, it was a challenge to find workplaces willing to accommodate her needs. “I’ve been in jobs and not been supported and had to leave. I need to be able to work from home because the commute is really distressing; I need some flexibility around appointments and I have struggled to find that.”

Making newsrooms more accessible

The struggle to find workplaces willing to adapt is not unique to Ekins. Samantha Baines, an author, broadcaster, BBC presenter, and deaf activist, has also experienced challenges in a workplace that often isn’t accessible to her needs. In a busy networking environment, she’s not only handing out her business cards and striking up conversations; she’s also lip-reading and dealing with the overwhelming noise in the room. “Afterwards, I’ll be exhausted for two days,” she says. Interviewing someone in a restaurant is a sensory nightmare with food being served and multiple conversations going on.

According to Baines, “We need to see disabled people in the media, spearheading companies and being given platforms”. She says: “It’s easy to make it work as long as you have everything in place and I think education is the beginning of that. We need a societal mentality of, “[lets] do the work ourselves. We can buy a book written by a disabled person, hear their voice, and learn how to do better.”

Political cartoonist Lorna Miller has experienced similar difficulties as a neurodivergent journalist. She preferred spending time alone after work instead of going to events. As a result, she felt that she was viewed less favourably. “[My autism] was judged as me not being ‘committed enough to the job’,” Miller explains. She says her hyperfocus at work also meant more tasks were piled onto her in comparison to her colleagues, eventually causing a year-long burnout period which put her job performance at risk.

palsy. He says that during the first pandemic, Grant Logan offered to train him for the Foundation Journalism Certificate. Within a year of completing the course, Grant made Chima his assistant editor.

When asked about how his disabilities were treated in preparation for entering the journalism industry, Chima had no complaints. “They made special adjustments and I was able to complete the work on time.” He spoke positively about the inclusivity of the academy. “They think about everyone and strive to meet all of the pupils’ needs and dreams.”

Training Chima to be a journalist in an accessible environment has given him, and many others, the confidence to pursue a career they might not otherwise have considered. In the future, he hopes to give back to the local community. “The academy will always have a special place in my heart. It has shown me what I am capable of.”

We need disabled voices

Miller believes one of the biggest misconceptions about disabled workers in the media industry is that they’re less capable than their non-disabled colleagues. “There was a bias there, mostly due to not having an understanding of the realities of living with a disability and how varied that is from person to person. Our experiences aren’t dominant in the newsfeed.”

“We need to see disabled people in the media, spearheading companies”

“People talk about neurodiversity, but they don’t implement methods to improve it.”

Being seen in the media

Work and training spaces that empower disabled individuals create amazing results. Khaleel Chima is proof of this, a former student at the Academy for Disabled Journalists, who is non-verbal with cerebral

Baines says that her disability allows

experiences to her writing. “I think disabled people and deaf people are often ignored or avoided in the media, which is a loss for the industry. We bring individual talents, personalities, and a completely different way of seeing the world.”

It is this unique way of existing in the world which is so valuable to journalism. Not just having a ‘token’ disabled person who writes disabled stories, but hiring disabled journalists across all areas.

As Baines concludes: “The joy of a society with people from different walks of life, different cultures, different countries, and different belief systems is that they challenge our experiences or make us reflect on the world differently. That is what’s so exciting about working in the media –and that is what we’re bringing as disabled people.”

The ADJ faces financial uncertainty, with the National Lottery funding ending, the academy launched a £20,000 crowdfunding campaign to keep its doors open

by Diogo Lopes

An ode to magazinefreebies

Romy Journee explores the free gifts that defined print media –and shaped journalists’ lives

Illustrations by Esme Hewitt

For decades, buying a magazine wasn’t just about reading – it was about the thrill of what came glued to the cover. A flimsy mood ring, a sparkly lip gloss, or a CD packed with chart-topping hits, the freebies that came with these magazines shaped shopping habits and teenage memories. While marketing gimmicks to some, for many of us they defined the magazine experience; choosing an issue meant choosing between the best freebies on the shelf, a rite of passage that defined the golden age of print media.

With hundreds of publications vying for attention in the 1980s/1990s, a well-placed freebie, or ‘covermount,’ could make or break a sale. At their peak in the late 90s, BBC Worldwide’s managing director Peter Teague told Marketing Week that a magazine’s cover photo and covermount could boost sales by 10 to 20 per cent.

“One edition of Just Seventeen gave away stripey pink and white wristbands at the height of the trend for leg warmers and wristbands in the 80s,” recalls Karen Kay, a former fashion editor. “I think I bought six copies.”

As digital media surged and advertising models shifted in the 2010s, the need for physical incentives diminished, with readers no longer relying on a glossy magazine to discover new trends when social media could deliver them instantly. The costs of producing and attaching covermounts also became harder to justify, particularly as sustainability concerns grew around plastic-heavy packaging.

While it may be better for the environment – and for authentic journalism – many of us have nostalgic memories attached to our favourite freebies. “My friends and I often picked up glossies at the airport for the free flips flops, sunglasses, or beach bags, on our way to sunnier climes,” says freelance editor Lucy Davies. “When I worked at Marie Claire, I gave a few leftover covermounts to my mum, and on my last visit, I found some pouches being used for storage – over a decade later.”

For some journalists, these covermounts helped spark their future careers; for others, they were just weird and wonderful objects that remind them of simpler times.

Weekend in the Daily Mail did amazing CD collections. There was one called ‘Legends’ that was brilliant – I spent every Friday night as a 12-year-old in my Dad’s kitchen listening to it, miming to Bat Out Of Hell. My late dad had hundreds of these CDs that came with Mojo, these shaped my music taste to this day and got me into pursuing a dream career as a music journalist.

Esther Beadle Freelance

Mizz magazine’s covermounts filled my first makeup bag in my early teens. 50p a fortnight for a juicy read AND a lipstick was an absolute bargain. It’s largely down to my love of those teen magazines that I became a magazine editor myself.

Elyssa Campbell-Barr Editor of Walk magazine

I got a fantastically large pair of sunglasses as a covermount on Glamour in the mid-noughties. I wore them everywhere for years, and could never find a pair quite as mad as them until I saw some in Duty Free –unfortunately, they were Gucci and £220. With a bit of nagging, I got them for my birthday.

Sarah Drew Jones Owner of Malthus Media

I had a summer ‘job’ in the warehouse where the freebies were stuck to the front of the magazines (by me). I still have the glue gun burns to prove it. It was the summer when Princess Di died so they had sad music playing on the radio, which didn’t improve matters.

Gemma Rollason Content writer and former sub-editor

I remember my mum getting a free L’Oréal mascara when I was young, probably with a copy of Look or Grazia, and I immediately got my hands on it. It was one of the first beauty products I ever “owned” – I still remember the exact black and green packaging and how glamorous it felt. I now write about mascaras for a living, so I like to think that freebie was the start of my love affair with magazines.

Amelia Yeomans Junior Shopping Editor at Marie Claire

My favourite freebie was a plastic spider leg. It was from a magazine that was, presumably, about spiders. Each issue, you got a new bit of spider, so by the end of the mag’s run you would have a complete arachnid. I seem to remember that the magazine folded after about three issues. I was pleased to have my leg and two bits of fang.

Oli Stratford Editor-in-Chief of Disegno

In 1997 when I was 13, my dad bought me Teletubbies magazine as a joke because the freebie was a Laa-Laa cookie cutter (she was my favourite). Twenty eight years later, he still bakes me Laa-Laa shaped bread rolls.

Katie Wright Freelance

Gemma Cairney: Storytelling, sisterhood, and the power of connection

The broadcaster talks to Katie Inglis and Romy Journee about her change of direction

Gemma Cairney logs onto our Zoom call fashionably late, greeting us with a beaming smile. The camera is slightly askew, as if placed in a rush. She lets us know that if she pops out of frame for a second, it’s to comfort her seven-month-old daughter, who’s supposed to be having a snooze.

She tells us how she saw Annie Lennox at the Royal Albert Hall last night, who was performing her first headline show in six years. “It was all for her charity, The Circle,” Cairney explains, eyes glittering. “It’s all about empowering women and girls around the world. It was beautiful, just really powerful.”

Now based in Edinburgh, Cairney is in London for the weekend, planning to catch up with some friends today and enjoy the unseasonably mild March weather. After such an electric night, Cairney wasn’t afforded a lie-in this morning, as she was woken by her daughter in the early hours. “She’s very chirpy, even though she hasn’t formed words yet,” Cairney says.

If there are two things Cairney is used to, it’s early mornings and loud noise. She began her career working at BBC Radio 1Xtra when she was 23, where she worked the early morning shifts, often starting at 4am.

“I used to say it was for all my sins,” she jokes, “but I was very excited to be doing what I was doing.

“You get to connect with all sorts of people via the magic that is radio. A song could wake you up, lift you. A conversation, even if it’s just a light-hearted chat, would let you know that you’re not alone at that time of the day.”

Beaming as she talks about her radio days, it’s evident Cairney’s passion for this persists. After leaving breakfast show raves behind, she went on to host the BBC Radio 6 podcast The Leisure Society, interviewing cultural icons about their pastimes and hobbies, and co-hosted The Surgery on BBC Radio 1, a quasi-agony aunt show where listeners received sage advice from other listeners.

The acclaimed broadcaster is a jack of all trades.

Photos provided by Elly Lucas

Among the many strings to her bow, storytelling and human connection are the threads that run through all of Cairney’s creative projects. We ask how radio helped her nurture this, and she pauses for a moment to consider her response.

“I’ve tried to sum it up many times,” she eventually says. “It’s a really important part of me.”

Cairney constantly asks herself how she can serve her communities through her work. “I think, with all the different roles that I do, it has come from a place of radical care.

“With live broadcast, you’re in it. You’re in the mood of the people that you’re speaking to, and it’s not only a genuine pleasure, but it’s fun.”

Now a multi-award winning broadcaster, author, and mum, Cairney is not done adding notches to her belt. Having now transitioned into more creative forms of storytelling, she recently made her directorial debut with her production of The Immortal Sisterhood, a live theatrical rendition of her book of the same name. While the book won’t grace shelves until next year, the show premiered at New York’s Lincoln Center this January.

Weaving elements of feminism, belonging, and grief, the multidisciplinary show is an ode to women in history and honouring their legacies through our own lives. Cairney smiles and describes the experience as “like being on a rocket.”

Her passion for human connection – rooted in her

you know that you ’re not alone” “A conversation could let

early days in broadcasting – has now found its fullest expression through The Immortal Sisterhood

The journey of crafting the narrative was something Cairney describes as “beautiful and profound”, a grounding force in “very noisy times”.

Throughout her ever-evolving career in the arts, Cairney’s time in radio remains a defining influence. It taught her, she says, that “you are only in the moment in real life.” Beyond its philosophical lessons, it also brought plenty of joy. As a selfconfessed “radio technical geek,” she fondly recalls the thrill of nailing a perfect transition, “pressing the sound effect at just the right time, seamlessly landing on the beat of a tune.”

Yet, beyond the smooth segues and well timed drops, the most enduring lessons weren’t technical but human. “What I carry with me,” she reflects, “is all about audiences and people.”

For Cairney, storytelling is the future, and she believes in the power of those who dare to speak up. “It’s important to put your head above the parapet when it counts. Those moments matter, and we can all learn from them.”

Drawing the short straw

With slashed budgets and the rise of generative AI, the space for illustration in journalism continues to shrink. Lara Iqbal Gilling and Amelia Brookes talk to illustrators about the state of their industry

In February, over 2000 British creatives signed a letter urging the government not to loosen copyright law. Relaxing the rules would allow AI companies to train their models on copyrighted artwork without artists’ consent, which they fear will devalue their work even further.

While certain high-profile cartoonists are coining it in (cough, cough – Matt Pritchett – who earned £650,000 in 2018), ordinary illustrators are in an increasingly precarious position.

“You can see the industry dying in front of your eyes,” political cartoonist and self-described “combatant” Martin Rowson mourns. He has launched a cartoon subscription service, which he thinks is “the way forward”. Subscribers will receive Rowson’s cartoons directly to their inbox each month for £5 a month, or £45 for a year. “Like any sensible parasite, when our host dies, we’ll find another,” he says decisively.

w

Political cartoonist and illustrator Lorna Miller has also experienced her own struggles with the industry, amongst her great success. “Work isn’t good across the board, and that’s me having worked for The Guardian two years ago,” she admits. “I’ve been doing this for 30 years, and the fees are the same or less than I was getting 15 or 20 years ago.”

But while her story has been a fraught and non-linear one, it has brought her great happiness over the years. “We all have the most incredible power to create new things in this world.”

“You can see the industry dying in front of your eyes”

Illustrations by Martin Rowson and Lorna Miller; frames provided by Adob Stock

Artist and author Molly Crabapple also believes illustrators must find new ways for their art to be consumed. “I fear the larger world of artists who aren’t constantly dodging, weaving and thinking of new niches is being decimated,” she explains. “People are forced to become brands, otherwise it’s so hard to make a living.”

Crabapple started her career during Occupy Wall Street. She thought its representation in the media was “beyond idiotic and totally inaccurate”. Since then, she has illustrated protests and areas of devastation like Ukraine and Gaza, applying her ability to draw quickly and accurately, which she learnt through life drawing in nightclubs. “You’re drawing in adverse conditions. People are jostling you, drunk people are walking in front of you,” she says.

She too, has seen the illustration industry decline. Her mother, a fellow illustrator, had to apply for a job as a cashier due to the devastating effect of digitalisation. “It gets worse every year,” Crabapple says. “So many people I know, especially older people, have gone out of business.”

Due to the rise of generative AI, 26 per cent of illustrators have lost work and 37 per cent have been paid less for their art, according to a 2024 study from The Society of Authors. “Even though it looks like crap it’s adequate enough to replace an illustration,” Crabapple says in frustration.

Despite this, Crabapple still believes drawings offer something technology cannot. “There are more smartphones with cameras than humans,” she says. “There is no mystery in having your photo taken, and often it can be quite extractive. Drawing someone is collaborative. They can tell you you’re doing it wrong, and they often have to sit still for you and consent in order to get a good drawing. Drawings make the viewer stop and look in a way that a photograph doesn’t.”

Cartoonist Phil Witte believes there has been positive change in the cartoon industry. He sees more diversity in gender, race and age than ever before. “Anyone can break in. You just need an internet connection and pen and paper.”

But, like the others, he finds the situation bleak. “These days cartoonists can’t make a living,” he says. “Generally, magazines and papers are paying less. They just can’t afford it. It’s not a happy situation. The whole industry of print publication, even digital, is shrinking.” Witte leases cartoons to greeting cards companies to supplement his income.

“Cartoons are part of our culture, and certainly British culture,” Witte says. He draws for both US and UK publications, and his cartoons cover every topic imaginable, from politics to pets. “It would be a very sad day if cartoons disappeared. I think they’ll always exist, but it’s very tough.”

Fortunately, most cartoonists Witte knows feel delighted by what they’re doing. “What you don’t get financially you get through psychic satisfaction.”

A highlight for Witte was when famous documentary filmmaker, Ken Burns, asked to purchase a cartoon which mentioned him. Witte orchestrated an exchange: the cartoon for DVDs of Burns’ documentaries. He framed the “very lovely” handwritten note that accompanied the four kilogram parcel from Burns. “It’s very rare to get feedback. But when I get it, oh it’s wonderful! It makes my day –makes my month.”

Physical or digital?

Rowson Witte Miller

“I couldn’t be bothered to work out how to draw digitally. There’s something important about the tactility of painting. Of getting dirty. At the end of the day my hands are filthy.“

“I like the feeling of pen and paper. but I use photoshop to clean it up. If I had to do a daily, I’d do it digitally. There’s a learning curve that I don’t feel like getting on right now.”

Crabapple

“I like to work with my hands. With real paint. I like how it feels. Drawing on a screen feels like drawing with a block of soap.”

“I work very traditionally, I use a dip pen and ink. I’ve done that for thirty years. It connects me more with myself.”

uestioning the Courts

Fifty years on, Will Lewallen revisits one reporter’s mission to uncover the truth behind the wrongful conviction of the Birmingham Six

In March 1991, police officers held back a jubilant crowd outside the Old Bailey. Across the road, hundreds of people lined the metal barriers. From under the four concrete arches of the court, emerged six men. One of those waiting outside for them was Chris Mullin.

Mullin’s work as a journalist had been instrumental in freeing the Birmingham Six. By the time of the release, he was the MP for Sunderland South, but before entering parliament in 1987, it was the reporting in his 1986 book Error of Judgement: The Truth About the Birmingham Bombings which claimed Hugh Callaghan, Patrick Joseph Hill, Gerard Hunter, Richard McIlkenny, William Power, and John Walker were wrongly convicted. Their conviction, for the murder of 21 people after bombs exploded in two Birmingham pubs on 21 November 1974, is now recognised as one of the most

famous miscarriages of justice in British history. Chris Mullin’s hand in exposing this was “one of the greatest feats ever achieved by an investigative reporter”, wrote Sebastian Faulks in The Independent on Sunday

“I suffered a certain amount of denunciation in the gutter press,” says Mullin five decades on. “People alleged I was a tool of the IRA, much of it was stirred up by The Sun. I was glad to be publicly vindicated when the six men came out the door.”

It didn’t end there, though. In 2019, with a new generation of police officers in Scotland Yard, the relatives of the victims successfully campaigned for the case to be reopened. A few years later in 2022, the police knocked on Mullin’s door. Under the Terrorism Act 2000, they ordered to him to disclose the name of his source, the last living bomber. He refused, and

provided by PA Media

Photos

found himself at the Old Bailey. Fortunately for Mullin, the judge threw the case out.

The decision sparked anger from the relatives; though Mullin understands the frustration, he has no problems standing by his decision. “What I did was overwhelmingly in the public interest. Had I not promised anonymity the Birmingham Six might still be in prison.”

Quest for the truth

As with most stories, this one began with a tip off, from journalist Peter Chippindale, a friend of Mullin’s. Having covered the Six’s trial himself, Chippindale became convinced of their innocence, and urged Mullin to investigate.

The case rested on confessions the police obtained in custody and a preliminary forensic test which suggested they had recently handled explosives.

It wasn’t until 1985 that, after “a lot of persuading”, Mullin got the resources he needed to pursue the story from a British investigative current affairs programme, World in Action. But the creators of the show, Granada Television, “were more focused on overturning

the evidence” and though they were largely successful, Mullin knew more had to be done to seriously challenge the conviction. “You can go on knocking down the case against [them] until the cows come home,” Mullin says, “but what you have to do is find the actual perpetrators.”

In the first episode they “demolished the forensic evidence” which relied on a Griess test, a process used to test for explosives through the presence of nitrates in a sample. “It turned out,” Mullin pointed out proudly, “that there were lots of innocent explanations, all sorts of household varnishes and even old packs of playing cards [were known to cause false positives].” In fact, the men had been playing cards just before they were arrested.

Back to the source

Meanwhile, Mullin had been plugging away at his own line of inquiry: interviewing members of the Birmingham IRA. Michael Murray was his first breakthrough. “It took quite a long time through various intermediaries to persuade him that he needed to talk,” Mullin says, “but once he did, I interviewed him three times – he was quite frank about his role.” He confessed to being one of the two bomb makers, and confirmed that two others planted the bombs.

After tirelessly following leads on the condition of anonymity, Mullin found himself at a block of flats in Ireland. One imagines tall concrete flats in West Belfast.

However, when pressed, Mullin refused to describe the area in which he found himself, alone, about to confront a man he believed to have been responsible for possibly the largest unsolved murder in British history. “It was in Ireland. That’s all I’m saying,” Mullin says.

The “Young Planter”, as Mullin called him, initially denied having any involvement, saying he was told to stay at home on the night of the bombing. “I said, ‘I think you were in the pubs,’” Mullin recalls, “then it came tumbling out.

“One of the greatest feats achieved by an investigative reporter”

“It was quite a big secret. His wife didn’t know, and I don’t think anyone knew outside a small band of his colleagues in the Birmingham IRA. It wasn’t until I heard from his lips exactly what happened that I could be satisfied.”

Three months after Mullin had his version on the record, he published Error of Judgement. Five years later, the Six walked as free men out of the Old Bailey. “My interviews with the perpetrators were not relevant to the appeal, that’s only hearsay I suppose, but they did give me the confidence to assert their innocence.”

The Birmingham case still shook the nation. “Chris Mullin did a tremendous thing,” says journalist Peter Hitchens, who frequently covers miscarriages of justice. “He helped educate the country on just how badly things could go wrong.”

Mullin believes that, to a certain extent, “journalists have a better track record than lawyers of overturning wrongful convictions.” This hasn’t stopped people voicing their concerns. Only a few months ago Mullin received a message which read: “How dare you state the Six were innocent. They were as guilty as sin… you are a despicable and IRA-loving moron.”

A week after their release, three of the Six appeared on the Irish talk show The Late Late Show. Patrick Hill addressed comments people made about his remarks outside the Old Bailey. “They said, ‘[my statement] was very angry, very forceful,’ and maybe it was,” he observed, calmly looking up so his steely blue eyes met those of the interviewer. “But then again, the truth is always forceful.”

pot of coffee and her laptop, she dives into work for the day, opting for a makeshift desk with a view. She says: “I always like to stop midday and read in the sun, go for a walk or swim, whatever it is, to remember that I’m in this beautiful place and that’s a very lucky thing.”

A quick Instagram search of the ‘digital nomad lifestyle’ shows aestheticised highlight reels of people packing their bags and heading for a dream-like destination. They hop on to Zoom calls poolside and squeeze in a quick hike between

as proof of income, housing and length of stay. With these, the glamorous “pack up and go” mentality becomes stifled.

Lauren Razavi envisions a happy medium between expats and global governments. As the Executive Director of Plumia, a nonprofit think tank developing the future of global mobility and citizenship, her end

often

feel like tourism.

first destination.

“Is this modern paradise too far out of reach?”

Silencing Sudan: The war on press freedom

Blackouts, militia threats, and relentless bombardment –these are some of the dangers journalists in Sudan face. Sufiya McNulty and Zahra Onsori report

The conflict in Sudan, which escalated in April 2023 following Rapid Support Forces (RSF) attacks on government sites, has been described as the largest humanitarian crisis on record. Over 8 million people are now displaced within Sudan, and 3.4 million have fled to neighbouring countries.

Accessing Sudan is near impossible for journalists, and the financial burden is overwhelming for those who manage to enter the country. “My expenses alone probably cost me around $5,000,” says photojournalist

Guy Peterson. “If you were doing something in Khartoum, costs could easily reach $10,000 to $20,000 over just 10 days. It’s an enormous financial undertaking.”

“Visa waiting times are often over six months,” he continues. “If you wait six months, then it coincides with the rainy season and floods, which make travelling impossible, that adds another three months. ”

There is also the complicated day-to-day logistics. “On the ground, for the entire month of February last year,

there was no internet,” says Sudanese journalist Mosab Abushama. “There are so many security groups and it’s impossible to know who’s in charge, so obtaining permission to take photos is difficult, especially if you are a journalist.” The lack of access creates a significant disconnect between what is happening on the ground and what the world sees. “There are so many stories I want to tell, but I can’t because of concerns for people’s safety,” says Abushama.

Still, Sudanese people are finding innovative ways to tell their stories. Razan Elshazali, founder of the Instagram account @womenofsudan, has created a space for dialogue and support: “People reach out to me for collaboration. We get first-hand accounts using connections from people on the ground.” Elshazali has gained a large diaspora following and her platform has become a reliable source of reporting for Anglophiles. “It’s crazy we have to learn about this stuff from social media because it’s not spoken about enough in the mainstream media.”

Yousra Elbagir on reporting Sudan

“Instead of getting on a plane, I worked with an institute for women in Africa that had been verifying cases.” Among the verified accounts was a voice note from a man whose two cousins had killed themselves to avoid rape by soldiers from the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

For Elbagir, this approach does two things: “One, it provides verifiable, impactful information. The labour is already done on the ground, and what you’re doing is packaging it and ensuring it gets reach,” she says. “Two, you’re deferring to and platforming the work of a grassroots organisation that helps women, which in turn can use that visibility for more support.”

As the RSF battles with the Sudanese military for control of key territories, Sudanese civilians have become collateral. “I grew up in Sudan, and reported from Khartoum many times, but this latest trip I was struck by the sense of collective exhaustion,” Elbagir explains. “All remnants of life have been decimated, baby photos lie next to discarded ammunition shells.”

In the basement of a shelled-out building in Khartoum serving as a Sudanese Army military base, Elbagir spoke to a 17-year-old girl holding her young child. Sold as a sex slave to an RSF soldier at 15, and despite his attempts to force miscarriage, she had fought for the baby’s life. “I told her she didn’t have

to share her face, that it would make her vulnerable, but she wanted to tell her story.”

Such experiences have strengthened Elbagir’s resolve. Reporting on Sudan is not just a job – it is a responsibility. “The media must commit to sustained coverage, not just react to escalation,” she says. “As news organisations, we decide where we turn our cameras, and where we don’t. At Sky, we have chosen to turn them to Sudan again and again, because Sudan is everyone. Sudan is Gaza. Sudan is the US. Sudan is Ukraine.”

For her, journalism at its core is about bearing witness. “We can never say the world didn’t know. We can never say it wasn’t reported. Whether it leads to action beyond our control, our job is to shine a light where it’s needed.

“Sudanese people are finding ways to tell their stories. As long as they speak, we must listen.”

by Eliza Winter

Which publication are you?

Take Esme Hewitt’s quiz to find out where you should really be working

Your morning routine

Knife crime charity volunteers try to stop you

You awkwardly smile and say you’re in a rush

You avoid them like the plague

Screaming at your kids to get their uniform on

Coffee, toast, and a vape

Work is giving out free lunch

There’s no GF option

What do you listen to on your commute?

Taylor Swift

You win the lottery what are you buying?

£700 bike

You are late into work because You’re at the pub one drink in

You can’t live without

Your terrier pooed all over your crushed velvet sofa

You just so happen to know every intricate detail about the royal family, Kardashians, Beckhams, and literally anyone with a public Instagram. Union jack pillows, Live Laugh Love prints and Emma Bridgewater mugs are strewn across your house.

You had five outfit changes

Staring at yourself in the mirror

From home

AI is taking over

Your favourite place to work is

Your Tupperware is at the ready for leftovers Your Laneige lip mask

You say that you thrifted something but you got it from Vestiaire Collective. You’re a slut for an orchid flower in your living room and have Aesop products in your bathroom. You don’t need to wait for the next Charlotte Simone drop because you’ve already been #gifted it.

Soho House on the Strand

Your hot take is

A new underground techno track

Your Google search history is

What’s your strength as a journalist?

Dalston is becoming gentrified

What are you wearing this summer?

Suede Birkenstock clogs

You love debating and complaining about the climate crisis while your Amazon Prime parcel is being delivered. You wear an Oura ring and own a Greenpeace tote bag you got at Glasto two years ago. At the gym you blast The Rest is History through your headphones.

You probably describe yourself as someone who doesn’t take life too seriously on your Hinge profile. You’re too cool for Clapham but still too basic for Hackney. You never admit to following trends but your existence screams “I know what’s in, please ask me about it”.

Sunglasses bigger than your head

You call yourself a “freelance creative” but stutter when trying to specify what you actually do. Your Instagram is mix of blurry film shots, halfeaten food and the shadow of a pigeon – because you studied Culture, Criticism and Curation at UAL and understand art.

“I went around Maryland country clubs chasing families who knew Luigi Mangioni” pg. 140

“I helped Janice Turner get into the court to watch the Gisèle Pelicot trial” pg. 146

“Great editors are putting the magazine first rather than themselves”pg.134 our“Wemanagedtoblag ceremonywayintoanawards andinterviewQuentinTarantino”pg. 140

LIST INGS

“We all slept on the ground in the middle of the wreckage of the hotel” pg. 140

Justine Picardie

Newspaper Journalism Novelist and fashion writer

When have you been most proud to call yourself a writer?

I was really proud of the investigative journalism I did as a young reporter at TheSundayTimes. This was long before the days of the internet or emails, you had to find things out by going to talk to people, sometimes by looking in archives. Looking back on my career, I do feel proud of learning at that point how important original research is.

What’s the most important lesson you learnt from working as an editor-in-chief?

To try and have a voice. It’s a very collaborative thing to be an editorin-chief; you want to have a great

team around you whose work you like and admire. It’s important to be able to listen to their opinions and encourage them in their passions, but also to have a very clear idea of what makes the publication different from anything else. The magazine is bigger than the editor. Great editors are putting the magazine first rather than themselves.

If you woke up tomorrow with all the money in the world, what would you do?

I’d probably go on writing. When I’m immersed in a book or telling a story, I want to go on until I’ve finished it.

By Daisy Finch

“It was the first time I had ever had to interview someone when there was a gun right next to us on the table”

Susanne Reber

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I worked on an investigation into a series of taser-related injuries and deaths in Canada, which was ultimately groundbreaking. We identified a systemic issue where the police were promising that tasers would cut down on injuries and death when, in fact, they did the exact opposite.

It proved to be incredibly complicated because we had to organise rigorous scientific tests on the tasers. I was very proud of that investigation because it required significant resources and time. It was about three years’ worth of work.

Broadcast Journalism Founder, Piz Gloria Productions

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I once did an investigation into Catholic Church sex abuse scandals. We went to visit one survivor in rural Maine and it was the first time I had ever had to interview someone when there was a gun right next to us on the table. I was very paranoid.

I’d been in hostile situations and conflict zones before but it never once occurred to me that there would be a gun on the table when investigating sexual abuse. That was very strange.

By Declan Ryder

Robert Cole

Newspaper Journalism Writer and editor, Bettercopy

Where do you write and where do you wish you wrote?

I write at home now as a freelancer. The post-Covid online call is fine. It was better to get out and about as an office-based staffer at The Times and elsewhere. Face-to-face contact is irreplaceable.

What’s the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

It’s the last piece of advice given by Henry Clother, lead lecturer on the

course. He said: “If in doubt, make that call.” It was his way of saying, “Get your facts right.”

What powers you through writer’s block?

Doing more research. Meeting or speaking to more contacts on the phone does the trick. If I get a block, it usually indicates that I need to know more about whatever subject I am writing about.

89 Andrew Harding

Broadcast Journalism Paris correspondent, BBC News

What’s your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

I remember my first day when they gave us tape recorders and told us to go out and find a story around Farringdon. There was a chess tournament going on with somebody doing live chess commentary, which I’d never heard of and was fascinated by. I remember feeling immediately hooked by the idea of being licensed to be nosy, and to wander around stumbling on interesting things.

What’s the most impactful story you’ve covered?

I hope that my reporting from Somalia and from the famines there helped raise public awareness of that. It doesn’t get as much coverage as I think it should. My coverage of the Ebola story in West Africa also had a strong impact in terms of the access we managed to secure.

By Vipin Chimrani

By Lucy Keitley

90

Caroline Wyatt

Periodical Journalism Presenter, BBC Radio 4

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

Probably the most difficult story I covered was the earthquake in Bhuj, India, where 20,000 people had been killed. We’d gone with a producer who said: “I know a lovely hotel in the middle of the city.” But, given the earthquake, when we arrived there was no hotel, no buildings, nothing. We all slept on the ground in the middle of the wreckage of the hotel’s garden.

Nadia Bilbassy-Charters

International Journalism Bureau chief,

Al Arabiya News Channel

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I secured an interview with Trump two weeks before the US election. I had been working on securing it for nearly four years – maybe even seven – but when he arrived, the music was blasting so loudly that we couldn’t record properly. But I told him: “Mr. President, the sound isn’t

good enough. We need to find another location.” Surprisingly, he agreed and I had 15 minutes with him. The Secret Service moved us multiple times, and in all the commotion, I lost my notebook, so I had to ask all my questions off the top of my head. It was really surreal, but it turned out to be fine.

90 Helen Ffitch

Broadcast Journalism Editor, Swanage News

What’s the most useful skill that you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

Tenacity. I was a girl from a comprehensive, and there were other people that came from a much more privileged background. They’d set you tasks at City and I would think: “How on earth are we supposed to achieve that?” This was back in the days before mobile phones – I think there was a payphone in the journalism department and we all had to queue up to ring people.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I wrote a story about a D-day veteran in Swanage who recently died. He was 98 and lived an amazing life. I worked late into the night getting all the photographs and writing down all that he did. I got an email from his son, who said: “My dad would have been completely made up by having that sort of recognition within the community.” That’s why I do my job.

By Amelia Brookes

Michael

Magazine Journalism Freelance journalist

By Hanna McNeila

91

Hogan

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

When I worked at Just Seventeen magazine, we were at an awayday by the seaside when news broke that Take That were splitting up. We hot-footed it back to London, put together a tribute issue in record time (the coverline was ‘TT RIP: Gone for Good’) and even set up a helpline for heartbroken fans.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I worked at More! magazine, which had an infamous regular called ‘Position Of The Fortnight.’ As sub-editor, I was often tasked with checking it was anatomically possible.

By Hebe Hancock

What’s your proudest achievement so far?

There’s so much I’m proud of for different reasons, whether it was spending three weeks in Qatar to cover the start of the Gulf war, working for Radio 4, or witnessing Gerry Conlon getting his apology in Parliament as a lobby correspondent.

Lisa Costello

Broadcast Journalism Presenter and newsreader, BBC Radio 4

I’m proud that when I cover a story, I still feel it. You’ve always got to have humanity in what you do. The minute you chase the story and lose sight of the empathy, it becomes problematic. I still see the humanity behind the news.

By Anna Mahtani

Raekha Prasad

Newspaper Journalism Journalist and journalism lecturer, City St George’s

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

When I was at City, for my placement I went to a regional newspaper and they made me go to petrol stations to compare the prices of a packet of crisps. I went to about 10 petrol stations and then, as a reward, they took my photo with all of the crisps and published it in the paper. I couldn’t even tell you if there was a price difference – I’ve tried to block it out of my mind.

The article that’s stayed with you and why?

When I was a foreign correspondent I did quite a lot on climate change in South Asia. This was a couple of decades ago – before the richer world cared. We had to go out on boats to meet people because the rising levels of the sea had created silt islands. It was shocking to see just how enormous the problem was even then.

By Rob Corsini

Victoria Stagg Elliott

International Journalism Senior technical writer, American Medical Association

The article that’s stayed with you and why?

In the early 2000s, I was the first reporter to report that bariatric surgeons in the US were actually doing bariatric surgeries on children and adolescents. It was a scoop, and it was just so striking that the obesity epidemic in the US [had become] so bad that bariatric surgeons were doing rather dramatic surgeries on eightyear-olds.

What’s your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

There are so many good ones. At the end of the year, we had a party where everyone got a funny certificate. I was voted the person most likely to contribute to the dumbing down of the media. The irony is that I now write scientific papers.

By Emily Warner

Rebecca McQuillan

Periodical Journalism Senior features writer, The Herald

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

During the Scottish referendum, I was the lead reporter and wrote one of The Herald’s most viewed articles of all time: “The Herald’s view: we back staying within UK, but only if there’s more far-reaching further devolution.” Our sister paper came out in support of independence and people were waiting to see our stance. It was an electrifying time and contributing to that historic moment felt special.

Newspaper

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I was sent to a remote Scottish island in search of a missing whale bone. It was found in a boat shed and ended up in an anonymous warehouse in Edinburgh, a bit like the Holy Grail in Raiders of the LostArk...

00 00 Jim Bruce-Ball

Journalism Deputy head of commercial content, TheTelegraph

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I recruited the legendary football manager José Mourinho as a columnist, and he had to select his Fantasy Football XI for us. He hadn’t really thought too much about it. So, I ended up guiding him through the players I thought he should select. It’s definitely the only time I’ll be able to say I picked a football team for José Mourinho.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I worked on The Telegraph’s sports desk covering the 2012 London Olympics. To be at the heart of it, reporting it all, was so much fun. It was very hard work obviously, but just the buzz of it was incredible. We were producing so much content, and we got to go to the Games as well – I saw Usain Bolt run, which was great.

By Katie Inglis

Pritha Sarkar

Broadcast

Journalism Senior desk editor, Reuters

What’s your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

Ian Hislop came in as a guest speaker and he basically went off slagging somebody in the media for being a really bad influence in journalism. Eventually one of the lecturers had to stop him and go, “Ian, his daughter is in here. She’s a student here.” It was fantastic.

By Orla Sheridan

How has sports reporting changed since you started?

Being in a wire agency, we used to be looked up to as the news provider. Now, because of social media, pretty much everybody is a news provider, including those at the centre of stories. Getting an exclusive is a lot harder than it used to be.

By Anna Mahtani

Oliver Dearden

Broadcast Journalism Deputy managing editor, NPR

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

George Zimmerman was found not guilty for the killing of Trayvon Martin back in 2013. We just threw out the show that was planned and started booking people. We were waiting for Zimmerman’s brother to pick up the phone, and he did. We got it on air with seconds to spare. I was really proud of the calmness and the hustle of the team.

What’s the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

Keeping a contacts book. It should be an actual hardback address book. I’ve obviously digitised it, but you could lose your phone, and your stuff could get wiped. I’ve still got my original book, twentysomething years later.

By Isabel Dempsey

“All of them were lovely, apart from one, who was spectacularly rude. I won’t name names”

Hayley Shedden

Periodical Journalism Head of copy, Imagine

What’s the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

Easily subbing. I really enjoyed learning how to sub under the expert guidance of Harriett Gilbert [the BBC World Service presenter who lectured at City St George’s from 1992 to 2008], and I use the skills she taught us every single day to edit my own work, as well as that of others. Harriett is an absolute legend, and I still remember many of the gems she shared, such as when to use ‘which’ instead of ‘that’, which is more useful than you’d think.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

Probably attending Jodie Kidd’s wedding for Hello! I had to interview as many celebrity guests as possible on the day. All of them were lovely, apart from one, who was spectacularly rude. I won’t name names.

By Finn Cliff Hodges

Jenny Parks

Television Journalism Freelance journalist and content producer

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I’ve recently been working on a women’s health book with Naga Munchetty. In a lot of the interviews we’ve done, we’ve seen that women are not being listened to and this is having a really negative impact on their health in the long term.

What challenges have you faced in making your voice heard?

I’ve learned you have to speak up. If you’re in a meeting, you’ve got to pipe up and not wait to be asked what you think.

The project that’s stayed with you and why?

I did a project for BBC Panorama a few years ago about young people and mental health. We spoke to healthcare providers who weren’t doing a great job, and tried to expose the scale of the problem. That stayed with me because I hadn’t been aware until that point of what an issue it was. I thought it was a terrible thing to happen to a teenager, to live with really bad mental health problems and not be able to get the help they need.

By Lorena Cristea

“We managed to blag our way into an awards ceremony and interview Quentin Tarantino”

What’s your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

Running our radio station, City FM. We managed to blag our way into an awards ceremony and interview Quentin Tarantino. We got him to record a promo for the station. He was really fun, very playful.

Can you tell us about a live-on-air blunder?

Early on in my career, I was presenting breakfast bulletins for BBC East Midlands Today and my autocue stopped working. I had my scripts in hand but hadn’t ordered

Geeta Pendse

Broadcast Journalism

Freelance broadcaster, BBC contributor

them correctly. I was frantic on-air, trying to ad-lib. Suffice to say I’ve always had my scripts printed and in the correct order ever since.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I did a feature about a man who could tell the make and model of any vacuum just by hearing its sound. I blindfolded him and tested several different hoovers to see if he could guess correctly.

By Orla Sheridan

Emily Ashton

Newspaper Journalism Deputy head of media relations, Department of Health and Social Care

What surprised you most about the industry?

I thought political journalism was a closed shop and not for the likes of me, but I found that lobby journalists are always overwhelmingly friendly and supportive. It is a lovely community of people that is very open to diversity. It is important for people from all different backgrounds, genders, and parts of the country to be reporting on politics.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I interviewed the then Business Secretary, Vince Cable, at his private ballroom dancing class. I watched him for an hour twirling around the dance floor.

06 George Kyriakos

International Journalism Deputy editor, special reports, Financial Times

I also got exclusive access to the Foreign Office’s new cat Palmerston because I broke the story.

By Marissa Goursaud

06

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I used to work for the Olympic Games in Athens 20 years ago, working for the main Press Centre at the time. Athens in 2004 wasn’t a global city like London or New York, but when the Olympics are in town, you are at the centre of the world. It made me not only aware of the enormity of the operation, but it made me extremely proud to work for an

organisation whose purpose is to unite the world in sport.

What soundtracks your writing?

Nothing with lyrics. Often that would be movie soundtracks or some kind of smooth jazz. The Lord of the Rings has always been very good, very peaceful – I’ve always been a big John Williams fan from Star Wars and Indiana Jones

By Will Lewallen

Warren Nettleford

Television Journalism Presenter and reporter, ITN

The article that’s stayed with you and why?

Our final documentary at City was taken on by BBC Newsnight. We investigated patients with multiple sclerosis who were being injected with stem cells. But we found that the stem cells that they were being injected with were animal stem cells.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I won a Royal Television Society Award. Another guy from my course and I started a politics programme online for young people, trying to really engage them with politics in a way that was accessible, fact-based, and entertaining.

By Isabel Dempsey

Felix Lowe

Newspaper Journalism Freelance writer and author

What are the best and worst parts of going freelance?

Flexibility is great. You’re not limited to what your editor says you have to do. With all the cycling reporting I used to do, I would never say no. I would do as much as I could because I was in my twenties and early thirties. But now, with two children, it’s more difficult. You have to get that balance right.

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

I remember the patch reporting; it really pushed us to create stories. You’d have to visit youth centres, town halls, and speak to people. From nothing, you’d get something.

07 07 Lalayn Baluch-Evans

Magazine Journalism

Senior communications manager, Breaking Barriers

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

Often industry publications get overlooked – [they] do such incredible work and I’ve loved the articles I’ve published in the projects I worked on, which in turn were followed up by national publications. When I was at The Stage, I had this great front page article looking at the really poor state of West End theatres. It got followed up by national newspapers and a TV channel.

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

On Thursdays they would send us out to find a story on something. Those days were always really exhausting. We used to call it Power Thursdays. We used to finish our tasks, and then we’d go to the pub and spend all evening there. I made a really nice group of friends.

By Amelia Brookes

Perjit Aujla

Television Current Affairs Journalism Freelance executive producer

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

Fairly early on I won a millionpound commission for a project to come up with the next Love Island It was a show called Shipmates. It actually ended up doing really badly, but I did my bit with the idea.

How has the industry changed in terms of promoting diverse talent?

Commissioning is more regional now and more diverse in terms of ethnicity. Even now though, it is often hard to pinpoint that you haven’t been

By Diogo Lopes

hired because of your race, but the statistics show there are barely any executive producers of colour. It’s improved but there’s still a lot to do.

How do you deal with the threat of burnout?

Saying no is important as a freelancer. You can feel like you need to say yes to everything because you don’t want to lose a piece of work or relationship, but you need to protect yourself and your hours.

By Lucy Keitley

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

International Journalism Senior features reporter (US), The Times

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I went to dinner with the Icelandic Fisheries Minister who, of course, wanted to show off loads of fish. I’m a vegetarian, but he particularly wanted me to try this fermented shark meat. I just had to say, “I’m sorry, I can’t eat that.” He was still quite nice about it, but it was a bit awkward.

By Paulina Subia

I remember when Boris Johnson was Mayor of London, he decided to ban alcohol on the tube. The night that that was due to come into effect, a group of people from City went to a party on the Circle line. My friend ended up being photographed with cans of beer that he was pouring into his mouth – and that was on the front cover of The Sun! We all still talk about that. 08

09 Harriet Alexander

Katrina Bishop

Newspaper Journalism

Deputy managing editor, Markets and CNBC Pro

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

The proudest I’ve been of myself, and my markets team at CNBC was of our coverage of Covid-19. It was a crazy time to navigate as a person, a manager, and a mother to two young kids. Before then no one knew you could run breaking newsrooms from home. It was wild. We were sending push notifications to millions of people’s mobile phones about Trump testing positive and I literally had a one-year-old on my knee.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

Working in financial news, you don’t normally get to do crazy, fun stuff. But I do remember when I was a junior reporter covering a new product launch from Starbucks. They came out with “duffins” – a doughnut muffin – which were trending on Twitter. After we published the piece, we got sent a box of duffins which were delicious.

By Clara Taylor

Jesse Whittock

Magazine Journalism International TV co-editor, Deadline

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

I remember finding it pretty intense, and the work was hard. The encouragement to go and find the best people for your stories, and the pressure to put yourself in unfamiliar environments, is something I’ve found reflected in my current job. I also remember being taught never to ask closed questions.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I won’t say who specifically, but I interviewed a very famous rock star. He decided he liked the blue suede shoes I was wearing, and did half the interview holding my foot!

By Clementine Scott

Charlotte Middlehurst

Magazine Journalism Assistant UK news editor. Financial Times

Do you find maintaining a work-life balance hard as a journalist?

When I worked for Time Out in Shanghai, we were all in the office doing 24-hour shifts to get the monthly magazine published. It was exhilarating, but it wasn’t the healthiest way to work, and no HR professional would ever recommend doing a weekend shut-in in the office, eating pizza and drinking coffee. But I was 25 and could do it then. At different times in your career, different levels of input and energy are required.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

Reporting on China from Shanghai and interviewing Chinese people in Chinese was a highlight for me, and being able to tell the story of China’s economic miracle from the ground. I’m very proud that I’ve been able to bring Chinese voices to light and into the Western media sphere; it’s hard for those voices to pierce through because of restrictions on freedom of speech in China.

By Zahra Onsori

“I was in my car transcribing, and a man told me to get out of there because I wasn’t welcome”

Dustin Silgardo

International Journalism Executive producer, ESPN

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

We had one assignment where we had to write about a piece based on the colour orange, and you could interpret it however you wanted. The African Cup of Nations was on, and I decided, because orange is the colour for the competition, to go to Finsbury Park and watch a game between Egypt and Algeria to soak up the atmosphere, because there are a lot of Algerians in that neighbourhood. That’s the piece I remember the most from when I was at City.

What surprised you about the industry?

The biggest [misconception] that people still have is that entertainment trumps news. While sports journalism has become partly entertainment, the evidence still shows that hard news gets far more views than entertainment articles or videos. If you can break a fresh story, even if it is not the biggest story in the world, it will get more views.

By Declan Ryder

Jasmine Phillips

Magazine Journalism Deputy editor, OcadoLife Magazine

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

The simplest lessons of all ring true every day. I’m never not thinking “why this?” or “why now?” You’d be surprised how many pitches fall flat because they don’t consider this, and I frequently delete the whole first paragraph of copy filed by contributors to help them get to the point quicker.

The article that’s stayed with you and why?

I commissioned chef Adejoké Bakare [the head chef of West African restaurant Chishuru] to write a recipe feature for us just before she became the first Black woman in the UK to earn a Michelin Star.

10 Matthew Caruana Galizia

Erasmus

Journalism Director, Daphne Caruana Galizia Foundation

Why did you decide not to pursue journalism?

I would never have made a good reporter. I grew up in the world of media – my mother was a journalist for over 30 years – and I worked in journalism as a software engineer. My mother was murdered as a result of her investigation into the Maltese government and business elite’s links to the Panama Papers. After that, I left to start the Foundation to pursue justice in her case.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

We [the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists] won the Pulitzer Prize for the Panama Papers investigation in 2017. An investigation of that scale had never been done before. We were really attacked for it, so winning the prize felt like a kind of redemption.

By Lara Iqbal Gilling

Tom Barfield

International

Journalism Tech editor, AFP

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

The times we’d have house parties or go to the pub together, and you’d have all these people at different stages of their careers from all over the world. You’d have people from Japan, South Africa, China, and all over Europe and America, just getting together in the pursuit of this vocation. It might not be the most lucrative or glamorous sometimes, but it’s definitely a hell of a lot more fun than a lot of other jobs, and is something the world needs right now.

By Mallory Legg

10

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

The most unpleasant thing I’ve ever had to do was interviewing people on the scene of an axe attack in Germany. I was sitting in my car transcribing some quotes from an interview, and a guy drove up to me and motioned to me to roll the window down. He told me to get out of here because I wasn’t welcome.

By Flore Boitel

Emma Featherstone

Magazine Journalism Deputy travel editor, The i Paper

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

The skill of approaching strangers. I don’t have any problem now with picking up the phone or getting vox pops on the street. That definitely helped me in my first paid work after City – they used to send me out with a topic and I had to ask people about quite personal things.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

Probably when I got this job. I had worked at The i Paper in a freelance capacity but never actually on the staff. Getting this position was an achievement especially because it came after two or three years of not

being able to travel much during the pandemic. I wanted to take on more responsibility in a new role, and it’s a really nice environment to work in.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

My first full-time job was on the investigative team at Which?. I used to get these huge spreadsheets of data from their electrical appliance tests saying how much dust a vacuum cleaner sucks up, for how long, and whether it’s good on pet hair.

By Emily Warner

“I knew I wanted to be a music journalist when I was 11”

Monique Rivalland

Magazine Journalism Features editor, The Times Magazine

How do you deal with the threat of burnout?

You have to tell your boss if you’ve got too much on. It’s really scary to say that at first because you don’t want to appear unwilling and you want to impress them, but they should be receptive.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

Getting a job at The Times was a proud moment. Since I’ve been there, I’ve worked on stories that have made a genuine difference. Most recently, I helped Janice Turner get into the court to watch the Gisèle Pelicot trial – she wrote the most amazing piece.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

In my first year at The Times, I was suddenly told at 5pm that I had to go and queue for restaurants, but never get to the front. As soon as I got to the front, I just had to go and join another one again. It was the beginning of the trend of no-reservation restaurants. I did that all night so that I could document how long it took and how desperate people really were to get into these places.

By Lara Iqbal Gilling

Matthew Lambwell

Magazine Journalism Tennis reporter, Daily Mail

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

I met my wife at City. We weren’t actually together then, since we were always in different groups and classes and didn’t get to interact much. Production fortnight was also one of my fondest memories. The camaraderie of being part of a team was so nice. But obviously, meeting my wife is the biggest thing I’ve taken from City.

If you woke up tomorrow with all the money in the world, what would you do?

The first thing I would definitely do is buy Burnley Football Club. It’s the club I support so I would want to make sure they are brought up to the top of football. And then I’d also buy a house by the seaside, and of course make a very large donation to City.

13 Jagdip Cheema

Financial Journalism Senior business producer and reporter, BBC

What surprised you most about the industry?

You realise how hard journalists work. There was a [feeling] when I was working long hours in banking that you get paid more because you work more than everybody else. Once I entered this industry, I realised everybody else works just as hard and the drive is not [about money]. People are actually more passionate about what they do.

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

Bouncing off of people’s energy. When I was there, there were journalists from all over Europe. Going out for a meal or a couple of drinks after a few lectures, I found that people had done more interesting things in life than I’d ever imagined, and at quite a young age as well.

By Will Lewallen

By Cyna Mirzai

13

Roisin O’Connor

Newspaper Journalism Music editor, The Independent

How do you navigate music journalism as a female journalist?

I’m very single-minded. I knew I wanted to be a music journalist when I was 11. When you work really hard for something you become very resilient – and you have to be thick skinned anyway in journalism. Music journalism [in particular] demands that, considering how intense fan bases are these days; you really have

to be able to brush off a stranger on the internet saying you deserve to die because you’ve given their favourite artist a one-star review. A lot of those magazines where they knew they were being misogynistic are not around anymore.

By Kathryn Vann

Haley Ott

Broadcast Journalism Reporter, CBS News

How do you deal with the threat of burnout?

I think it needs to be said that whatever burnout or fatigue I might feel, it is nothing compared to my colleagues in Gaza, and journalists around the world living in conflict zones. It’s an exhausting time to be in this line of work, but at the same time it is a tremendous privilege and that feeling sustains you.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

A lot of the time TV interviews look beautiful on camera, but are conducted in weird locations. I did an interview under a bush with lots of birds, and they kept pooping around us. It ends up looking great, because you can cut those bits out.

By Tiago Ventura

Justin Cash

Investigative Journalism Online editor, Dow Jones

14

What is the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I once went to a planning meeting about the London super sewer. When you dream of becoming a journalist, those dreams don’t tend to involve in-depth discussion of waste management.

What is your fondest memory of City St George’s?

Meeting amazing friends who have been with me ever since. To have stayed as close as we have, attending each other’s weddings, meeting everyone’s children, is a testament to how City brought us together.

By Diogo Lopes

Gabriel Samuels

Newspaper Journalism Chief sub-editor. The Times and The Sunday Times

What soundtracks your writing?

Yesterday I had some Bon Iver on. I listen to quite a lot of Lo Fi stuff while working. And then when I’m really fired up, I might listen to a bit of Inhaler or Led Zeppelin or something like that, to really get myself in the zone.

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

The most valuable thing about City was being taught by professionals who know the industry inside out.

What is the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I interviewed an American musician called Dayglow a couple of years ago. I was meant to be meeting him backstage at one of his concerts, and then they had to cancel it. They said, “Why don’t you come and join him for breakfast?” So I went at about seven o’clock in the morning to have breakfast with him. He kind of peer pressured me into getting this massive milkshake. We had a great time.

By Romy Journee

Simon Holmes

Television Journalism Editor, Al-Attiyah Foundation

What assumptions about the industry were proved wrong?

People refer to journalism as a dead industry but it’s not. It’s a dynamic industry that’s changing all the time. People 15 years younger than me consume the news differently to me but that doesn’t mean they don’t want it. There’s still lots of jobs, you just have to constantly upskill. If, for example, you want to be a broadcast journalist, trying to get a job at the BBC is not your only option. You could also get a GoPro and a flight, do a vlog and put it on YouTube.

What powers you through writer’s block?

Coffee first, always. But also, take the time to read more about your topic, then go for a walk, clear your mind, and come back to it later. That distance helps. Sometimes, you’ll write pages in one sitting, only to come back the next day and realise it’s not as strong as you thought. Writing takes time, and that’s OK.

By Hanna McNeila

“ I did an interview under a bush with lots of birds, and they kept pooping around us”

Delara Shakib

Broadcast Journalism Senior producer, Associated Press

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I was lucky enough to work on the Cambridge Analytica investigation by Channel 4 News. It’s very difficult to do that kind of journalism, because these companies go after their whistleblowers very aggressively.

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s?

When we put our minds together, we can create incredible things, and City definitely taught me the value of that. Broadcast was all about working together to create a show, and that means the team comes first.

What powers you through writer’s block?

Finding a safe space as a writer is really important. For me, it’s the British Library, because I have a really good association with it and I always go there when I’m preparing myself for an exciting trip or when I’ve got a big interview. I associate it with the more creative side of things, just sitting for hours and reading or brainstorming.

By Katie Inglis

Claudia de Meulemeester

Business and Financial Journalism

Senior correspondent, Financial Times

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

Graduation was a big one. We were really worried that it would be bad weather, but it ended up being extremely hot. We were all in our togas just sweating it out at the Barbican - it was a very good time.

Have you faced any challenges in getting your voice heard?

English is my third language and editors forget that. You have to stick up for yourself when you receive criticism that isn’t necessarily fair. And if it is fair, you need to remind them that you have assets that other people in your team don’t.

16 16 Ellie Harrison

Where do you write and where do you wish you wrote?

Lots of people at the office work with both a laptop and a monitor. I can’t do that. I just use my laptop. I don’t want anyone looking at my screen seeing how many words I’m looking up on Thesaurus.com. I also need plenty of water and tea. My dream writing set up would be Colin Firth’s [villa] in Love Actually with the lake and the wind whistling in the trees.

By Ioná Corrêa

Magazine Journalism TV editor, The Independent

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

City taught me the power of the pause. When interviewing, it can be tempting to babble on at your interviewee to make them feel comfortable when there’s an awkward silence. But if you’re asking someone a question and they leave a silence, just taking an extra beat and letting them fill it is when you usually get the most interesting or candid responses.

By Cyna Mirzai

Sherif Abouzid

International Journalism

Breaking news editor, Bloomberg

Have you faced any challenges in getting your voice heard?

After I travelled to London to do the MA, I came back to Egypt and it turned out there had been a huge crackdown on press freedom. Our publication was state run but we were working for the English website of that organisation and we more or less had a wider margin of freedom to write what we wanted. When I came back to Egypt it was all about

what the state would say. You’d have to stick to the statements and I was depressed for maybe a couple of months.

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

I took the Broadcast pathway because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone. I think learning how to do a package was the most important thing as well as academic writing.

By Yasmine Medjdoub

James Beeson

Newspaper Journalism Drinks editor, The Grocer

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

It’s the ability and confidence to go out and talk to anyone to get a story without being intimidated by someone’s position, stature, or opinion. That’s something I always look to carry forward with me, because everyone’s just a person at the end of the day. You’re doing your job and they’re doing theirs. It can get competitive but ultimately, that’s part of the fun. And City really encourages that: finding stories that necessitate talking to strangers.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

Seven months into my first fulltime journalism job at the Morning Advertiser, I won the award for Best Young Beer Writer in the UK 2017. It really justified my decision to go into writing about food and drink as a fulltime profession.

By Mallory Legg

“My dream writing set up would be Colin Firth’s [villa] in Love Actually”

What drink is on hand to get you through a writing session?

I drink about four green teas a day to power me through writing sessions. I can’t get on with coffee, I think it’s too powerful for me or something.

How do you deal with the threat of burnout?

I think my job is quite good for avoiding burn out: I do one story and then I move on to another thing which keeps everything fresh and new. That’s one of the best things about journalism – you’re always doing or learning something new.

Luke Barratt

Interactive Journalism Investigative reporter, SourceMaterial

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

News writing. We had some very repetitive classes about exactly how to write a news story, but it turned out to be invaluable because it’s something I use every day.

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

One of any number of nights spent at the pub next to City (it used to be called the Toffee Maker). We would go after lessons were finished and stay for probably too long.

By Hannah Bentley

Cristian Angeloni

Newspaper Journalism Special projects editor, Investment Week

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

Being shortlisted for the Headline Money Awards for an investigation I did into discrimination within the protection insurance sector. I discovered HIV+ people were being turned away when asking for protection cover. Thanks to my investigation, several trade bodies and insurance companies relaxed their stance on HIV+ customers.

What is your fondest memory of City St George’s?

My fondest memory is when we worked on producing a weekly newspaper for Hackney and Islington. Sometimes we would even scoop the local papers which, as journalism students, meant the world to us, but also gave us a taste of how newsrooms work and what it felt like to be in one.

18 Sara Semic

Magazine Journalism

Junior fashion features editor at HTSI Magazine, Financial Times

What’s your writing uniform?

I do believe in the idea that when you’re looking good, you think and work better. For me, having clean hair makes a difference. That said, when I have a deadline, I’m usually in my pyjamas.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

I did a story about virtual fashion where they superimposed digital outfits on to photos of me that my

housemate at the time took of me outside in various poses.

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

It was always really fun hearing people who had been at City come back and talk about it. Dolly Alderton was one, and I was a big fan of her book, so that was really exciting.

By Hattie Birchinall

Isabel Shaw

Investigative Journalism

Health reporter, The

Sun

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

It got me into the habit of calling people, which is incredibly useful for my job now. The patch assignments I had to do in my first term at City pushed me to step out of my comfort zone.

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

I actually met my boyfriend at City, who is now working as a journalist

By Eliza Winter

19

for The Telegraph. We were on the same course, and we’ve been together for seven years.

What assumptions about the industry were proved wrong?

Before I started working in journalism, I thought there would be a much stronger drinking culture, but that was not the case!

By Maria Vieira

Lydia Spencer - Elliott

Magazine Journalism

Lifestyle and culture reporter, The Independent

The article that’s stayed with you and why?

When I was at Grazia I spoke to the journalist from The New York Times who brought down Harvey Weinstein. It’s been years since that all happened, but the culture’s still in such a similar place.

What advice would you give someone looking to get into arts and culture writing?

Be really nerdy about the things that you like, because the first thing they’ll ask you about is your main interest. You can’t be nonchalant about culture! Don’t lose your love for it, and keep your nerve.

What assumptions about the industry have been proved wrong?

You hear quite a lot that “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know” so I was concerned for a while I’d never get a job with the brands that I really liked. I interviewed for The Independent when I was just out of City in 2020, and I didn’t get a job there until 2024, so it took four years and three different attempts to get the job.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

Going to a conker fight in Peckham, which was so much fun! It was pretty brutal – people were breaking teeth.

By Daisy Finch

“It was pretty brutal – people were breaking teeth”

What would you do if you woke up tomorrow with all the money in the world?

Start a pub where other journalists can go and hang out and write together.

How do you deal with the threat of burnout?

When you’re working hard and doing a good job, there’s a euphoria that comes at the end of the day. Sit in that sense of satisfaction before

Joshua Cook

Television Journalism Content data analyst, Bank of England

embracing your next task. This isn’t easy because people have deadline after deadline. Give yourself space to reflect on the good stuff you’ve done.

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

I’m dyslexic, so I found essay writing tricky. At City, you really learn how to structure your writing.

By Sufiya McNulty

Melina Spanoudi

Newspaper Journalism News reporter, The Bookseller

What article has stayed with you and why?

While I was finishing my degree at City, I wrote a feature for Vice about the #MeToo movement in Greece, which took years to take shape. It was a very difficult piece to write because I interviewed a lot of survivors of sexual violence, but it was extremely rewarding because some people were telling these stories for the first time. That felt like a big responsibility.

What assumptions about the industry were proved wrong?

One assumption is that journalists are inherently competitive and cutthroat, but I’ve found people to be very collegiate and helpful a lot of the time, especially when you’re a young journalist.

21 21 Cameron Henderson

What’s the strangest thing you’ve done for an article?

When Luigi Mangione shot that CEO, I went around Maryland country clubs chasing families who knew him.

The article that’s stayed with you and why?

I wrote a Telegraph article on British scientists trying to save French cheese from extinction, since the bacteria are dying out. I went up to Nottingham to try lab-grown blue

By Flore Boitel

Magazine Journalism US news reporter, The Telegraph

cheese, and up to Scotland to speak to a motorbike riding former DJ who became a cheesemonger.

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

Production fortnight. The creative friction, alternating ideas, pushing each other to get the best story out of each other, and going to the pub every day.

By Phoebe Hennell

Alanah Khosla

Newspaper Journalism Features reporter, MailOnline

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

22

Whenever I’m helping someone, it always makes me feel really good. Two weeks ago, I did a piece with a woman who suffers from endometriosis, who set up a charity after suffering years of medical misogyny, and after my article was published, she had so many people reach out to her for information.

What article has stayed with you?

I’m a huge Amy Winehouse fan, so I’ll never forget interviewing her stylist Naomi Parry for an article about Amy’s most iconic outfits. I’m into fashion as well so that is something that I will always remember.

By Finn Cliff Hodges

Philippa Kelly

Magazine Journalism Assistant digital editor, The Art Newspaper

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

It’s hard to pick something because I learned everything about being a journalist when I was there. The most useful skill is confidence in approaching people and securing interviews. I remember the terror in the beginning of patch of picking up the phone to a stranger. Leaving with the confidence to pick up the phone and say with confidence who you are, what you’re looking for and what you need, has been useful both in day-today work and in securing day-to-day work.

The interview that’s stayed with you and why?

The most sensitive story I had to work on was a piece for The Guardian where they asked me to interview 30 people that were coming towards the end of their life about how it felt to be in that position. It was incredibly sensitive, the conversations I had with them were very moving and, actually, the person who had the awkwardness and the nervousness around talking about death was me, not them.

By Esme Hewitt

“I wrote an article on British scientists trying to save French cheese from extinction”

Claudia Cockerell

What’s the strangest thing you’ve had to do for an article or interview?

Crash Nigel Farage’s 60th birthday. It was the most terrifying assortment of people and there was a massive ice sculpture of his face that had half melted by the time I got there – it looked like some horrible thing from Munch’s The Scream. It was a sort of a Henry VIII bacchanalia; there were oysters, champagne, and lobstersdefinitely a behind the curtain look at how the other half live.

International Journalism Diary reporter, Evening Standard

What is your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

I did Broadcast International so every week we would do a news programme, and something would inevitably go wrong. Either the sound wouldn’t work or the green screens –you’d be talking about a kind of tragic event and then the funny animal story of some flamingos would flash up in the background. Just watching people and improvising through that was a weekly source of entertainment. I think it was kind of farcical often but great fun.

By Alice Lambert

Hridika Nandra

Television Journalism Digital producer, Sky News

The project that’s stayed with you and why?

We were outside Buckingham Palace covering the announcement of Kate Middleton’s cancer diagnosis. I guess the reason why it’s really stuck with me is because I was outside in the cold for 12 hours, organising the logistics and everything – even though it was crazy, I just thought, “I can’t believe I’m here doing this right now.”

What’s your fondest memory of being at City St George’s?

Because I was on the TV journalism course, it’s definitely the Tuesday news days. It’s hectic, there’s a lot going on, but you get through it.

The funniest thing is, in real life, the newsroom isn’t that hectic, and you’re not going to have that much to do again. So it’s good, because it prepares you for real life. It’s kind of a sweet surprise!

What soundtracks your journalism?

When I’m working at Sky, I’ve got to listen to the Wednesday Prime Minister’s questions. I’m not that heavily into politics, but I understand it. You have to persevere through it. So sometimes I have the Prime Minister’s questions in one ear, and 50 Cent in the other. Basically, I need some Hip Hop or RnB to get me through. It’s quite motivational.

By Romy Journee

“I have the Prime Minister’s questions in one ear and 50 Cent in the other”

Daniela Toporek

Magazine

Journalism Social media editor, Ori Magazine

What’s the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

This one’s kind of basic but it’s true! Read, read, read as much as you can. If you want to go into a certain kind of writing like food journalism, go and see who the good food writers are and follow them. It helps you keep up to date on current events which also helps you formulate new pitches. Reading improves your writing dramatically.

Tell us a standout moment from your career.

I got an email from National Geographic Traveller and I have an interview with them for a 3-month internship – it’s my dream magazine. Also, last year I wrote an article for Supper Magazine on how tequila has become a more sophisticated drink –it’s no longer the ‘spring break party beverage’ and that meant a lot because I’m Mexican, so it was really cool to tap into my culture.

By Esme Hewitt

Ben Jureidini

Magazine

Journalism Digital assistant, Tatler

What surprised you most about the industry?

I thought it would be super cutthroat, with everyone competing for scoops, but I’ve been very lucky. All the editors I’ve worked with are very passionate about helping people kick their career off, getting good bylines, doing a variety of articles, and cultivating your skills.

What is the most useful skill you learned at City St George’s that you still use today?

The ability to get things done. I’d be stressing about something like a patch piece, thinking I’ve got nothing to hand in, that it’s going to be so embarrassing. Then something always comes up, you get it finished, and all is well with the world.

24 24 Ryan Say

How do you deal with the threat of burnout?

Having hobbies helps. I coach an American football team at City. I used to play as a linebacker on the university’s team, and while I was doing my master’s I felt like I could count on sports to help me deal with the stress.

By Alice Lambert

Broadcast Journalism Producer, Voices Radio

What change would you like to see for Black journalists in the future?

More opportunities for Black people to get into journalism. I was one of three Black people on the course and I know that a lot of people, like me, have imposter syndrome or feel like they don’t belong.

By Kathryn Vann

Flora Murray

Television Journalism

Freelance producer and researcher, BBC Politics

What powers you through an evening or weekend shift?

I live with my friends, and they have respect for my downtime! I balance out my work by nurturing my hobbies, I read and play the guitar more than I used to. I also watch old BBC documentaries about political history – I find the slow, contemplative style relaxing.

What surprised you most about the industry?

I assumed that I wouldn’t be able to contribute at a high level. There are moments still where I play more of a listening role, but I surprise myself with how much I can help solve a problem. TV journalism felt like a pipe dream, so it’s nice to feel like I can be in those rooms.

By Clementine Scott

XCity Crossword

Test your knowledge with our word game, put together by Declan

Ryder

Across

3 An area a journalist is assigned to; musical term

5 Everyone's starting one, even the King

7 Digital newsletter platform founded in 2017

9 'That's slander!' 'No, I think you'll find I published the allegations in print. It is in fact _'

12 Fashion magazine - stoic lampoon (anag)

14 Independent regulator for the UK print and digital news industry

15 London cabbies need this test; journalists need this newsletter

16 Sisyphus isn't the biggest fan of this publication

17 Surname of the journalist-turned-comedian behind a date-night YouTube phenomenon

20 Economics editor of BBC News, occasional presenter of Newsnight, and City alumnus

22 Formerly frequented by both journalists and demon barbers alike

24 Surname of football commentator; Westend lane with famous theatre

Down

1 One of his poems inspired the title of Joan Didion's essay collection

2 Channel 4 newscaster - tit frame (anag)

4 Left-leaning publication; angelic?

6 Captions - rifle parts - chairs

8 Journalists compete for this; ice cream commonly served in this form

10 Truman Capote novel that was said to have founded New Journalism

11 US broadcasting network; often found rooting through your bins at night

13 2003 film about a fraudster reporter

18 High-street bakery. Now in print, not just in pastry

19 This magazine, first published in 1991, used to also be confused

21 Musical set in 1899 in New York City

23 It's money, it's the news, it's always ticking away