Local Journalists Are Vital – Why Are We So Radically Underpaid?

The number of important stories is diminishing because, quite frankly, there are not enough local reporters left to do the kind of work that was done as a matter of course two or three decades ago.

By Riley James

When my daughter was in second grade, she appeared in a school play as a member of the White House Press Corps. She could have tried out for the role of president, or vice president, or Secret Service agent, but she knew the role she wanted because she wanted to be a journalist just like me, and she got it.

Fast forward a decade or so, and she had progressed in her chosen career. Majoring in media studies, she rose up through the ranks at the college newspaper, and became editor-in-chief. And, it never ceased to amaze her that her staffers, college students, who received $20 per story, were actually paid almost as much as professional journalists at a local New York City newspaper.

That was around 2010; things haven’t improved since then. In fact, as financial pressures on publishers have mounted, they’ve only gotten worse.

That’s the sad truth — journalism is a thankless career. All too often, those who practice it are not only disrespected, but underpaid.

As the ranks of internet “journalists” have swelled — and by that I mean bloggers and their ilk, as well as those who start a website, then fill it with self-serving press releases from individuals and organizations that salivate over such easy marks — what goes into making real journalism, sourcing and fact-checking, is too often ignored.

Yeah, nowadays, you can get “news” from a million online sources. But to get news you can trust, you need trained journalists who are careful to verify the things they are told, often off the record. And the reality is that, in a world where the popular theory says “anyone can do it” — journalism is usually anything but a remunerative career — even though, in actuality, only relatively few people can do it well.

I’ve spent decades in the world of local journalism, and I’ve seen to my chagrin how little staffers and freelancers are often paid ($25 an assignment doesn’t cut it in New York City, not to mention it doesn’t meet minimum wage requirements, but I know for a fact certain outlets paid that to photographers as recently as four years ago). In reality, people in local journalism often do double-time just to scrape by.

When I first started in the field, I got $35 per story, plus $7 per photo for the first five, $5 per photo for any additional ones. This from what was, at the time, the pre-eminent borough newspaper chain. I got more money as I continued my career there, but much of that – and it wasn’t a lot by anyone’s standards — was zapped away after a larger news organization took over and cut my annual salary by $8,000.

And I was one of the lucky ones. The day that happened, other longtime editorial staffers were given their marching papers. But my resulting salary wasn’t enough to make ends meet. And, even the bump in pay I got a couple of years later, when I moved over to a different chain and an editorial post, barely cut it.

That publisher’s excuse for low-balling my salary? I had never previously been the editor of a newspaper, even though I had previously been the editor of a different publication. And, by the way, he also wanted to start me lower, so I had “room to grow.”

“And that’s nothing compared to what happened at the Capital Gazette in Annapolis, Maryland on June 28, 2018, when a man with a grudge against the paper came into its offices and started shooting. Five people died that day, including a woman I’d been friends with for decades.”

In all my years in local journalism, I’ve had exactly one publisher who tried to pay a living wage. His reward? Financial instability.

None of this takes into account the potential danger inherent in reporting. I’ve been threatened for taking photos — once, unbelievably, when I was covering a hearing about a home for the developmentally disabled.

And that’s nothing compared to what happened at the Capital Gazette in Annapolis, Maryland on June 28, 2018, when a man with a grudge against the paper came into its offices and started shooting. Five people died that day, including a woman I’d been friends with for decades.

That editorial staff did much the same job as everyone I’ve worked with since the mid-1990s, covering school events, and turkey giveaways, and blood drives, as well as hard news. Their stories helped people understand the key issues shaping their communities, and for that, they gave their lives.

Violence, per se, is not the reason why such critical local journalism – which builds community as much as it casts a light into the dark corners of the neighborhoods it surveys – is vanishing. The attrition comes down to, as it always seems to, dollars and cents. With the rise of the internet, advertisers have cheaper, more ubiquitous ways to flaunt their products while also providing such extra perks as customization.

With a diminishing supply of advertisers, publishers are looking for other ways to raise money, from hosting for-profit events to trying to monetize their online presence. And they are responding to the financial pressure by cutting staff and asking already-overworked reporters to do even more.

Even back in the halcyon days of 100-page papers stuffed with ads and articles, local reporters were expected to produce 10 stories a week. Now, they’re also promoting their work on social media, maybe even supervising their paper’s online presence which, as revenue shrinks, may be the only presence that the newspaper, once easily available in corner boxes and at newsstands, may have.

And still, the number of important stories is diminishing, because, quite frankly, there are not enough local reporters left to do the kind of work that was done as a matter of course two or three decades ago.

How bad is that? Just think about the revelations about now-Congressmember George Santos, who apparently falsified his credentials in his bid for public office. One local paper, the North Shore Leader, actually covered his fraudulent claims, but, according to a piece from The Bulwark, did not promote its scoop via social media because of staff shortages. One result — no other media outlet followed up on the story, basically allowing Santos to coast to election without any serious challenges to the things he had said about himself. Once upon a time, the Leader’s story would have spurred a series of stories from other outlets, building on the original scoop, and Santos’s tall tales would have dominated the headlines, likely in time for voters to know the whole story before casting their ballots.

That’s bad not only for the people he will represent for the next two years, but for the very existence of democracy itself — and, sadly, as advertising revenues continue to diminish — such situations will become more common unless publishers, advertisers and readers finally step up and each do their part to keep local journalism thriving.

Maybe the saddest part is that, as the diminution of local news reporting continues, the readers — who will find themselves without any source of information specifically dedicated to their communities — might not even realize what they’re missing, until it’s too late.

The author of this piece has chosen to use a pseudonym in order to speak more freely about pay inequity experienced by local journalists.