What The News Could Be
You open your phone to check the news; twenty minutes later you’re overstimulated and underinformed.
A trillion-dollar budget scrolls by, but there’s no sense of what it costs your household. Wildfire footage loops without emissions context. “Unprecedented” flashes for the fifth time this month.
You close the app with more anxiety than understanding.
This isn’t a side effect. It’s how the system was rebuilt.
When subscription loyalty gave way to ad-tech targeting, journalism’s business model inverted. The goal stopped being comprehension and became retention: how long a story could keep your eyes fixed.
Panic performs. Context doesn’t.
Over time, the industry rewired its feedback loops to reward agitation over orientation. Headlines didn’t have to lie. They just didn’t have to help.
Yet the muscle memory of public-minded reporting isn’t lost. Once, budget coverage routinely translated figures into per-capita costs. Local journalists traced zoning policies to eviction spikes. Evening anchors unfolded war fronts on studio-floor maps. Their job was to equip, not just alert. That instinct survives in small pockets. But it won’t survive the decade unless we fund it, scale it, and demand it.
Five Drills for Newsrooms
What would that look like in practice? It starts with newsroom drills that restore clarity:
1. Translate scale
Lead every major dollar figure with its per-household cost. A trillion becomes roughly $7,800 per U.S. household. Now it’s a decision, not noise.
2. Show the curve
Don’t report static numbers—report growth rates. “Cases are doubling every nine days” teaches more clearly than “28,000 new infections.”
3. Date the damage
Tag climate stories with emission dates. “This flood traces back to coal burned in 1991.” Memory sharpens when cause meets effect.
4. Name a life
Pair every statistic with a named story. It doesn’t replace data—it prevents data from numbing us.
5. Back-cast the deadline
End speculative tech stories by tracing the conditions needed to avoid disaster. “To achieve safe AI by 2125, liability reform must begin by 2050.”
These aren’t gimmicks. They're practices with proven precedents. ProPublica tracks policy change post-publication. The Dutch platform De Correspondent translates economic figures into grocery carts and school lunches.
During the pandemic, the Financial Times became a global benchmark—not because it had exclusive scoops, but because it charted exponential growth with clarity. People trusted the FT to tell them what was actually happening.
But we should be alarmed that one legacy outlet carries so much of the burden. No single newsroom, however competent, can uphold public intelligibility alone. If precision becomes luxury, confusion becomes default—and confusion, in this economy, is a liability the public will carry.
Why Isn’t This Normal?
Because churn pays. Outrage is easy, fast, and cheap to scale. Context—policy tracing, data timelines, long-run accountability—requires resources that hedge-fund owners and SEO-chasing startups won’t fund. Clarity slows output, so clarity gets cut.
The fix isn’t stylistic. It’s infrastructural. If public orientation is a public good, it needs public-good infrastructure: co-ops, municipal underwriting, nonprofit endowments, university partnerships. None are utopian; all weaken ad-driven acceleration.
And we need new performance metrics—not “monthly uniques,” but comprehension retention.
How many readers can explain a piece the next day?
How many can name its core facts and sources?
Almost no outlet asks those questions, let alone answers them.
Structural Failures of Alternative Journalism
In a landscape dominated by corporate media conglomerates, alternative journalism is often championed as an essential independent counterbalance, promising a more democratic and inclusive voice. From nonprofit newsrooms to crowdfunded platforms, these outlets assert their resistance to the capitalist stranglehold on information, positioning themselves as crucial disruptors of the status quo.
Why This Isn’t Just a Media Problem
I feel coherence like others feel temperature—subtle until it’s uncomfortable. As an autistic person and former product builder, I know how interface choices shape mass behavior. “Clicks over comprehension” isn’t just a poor business choice. It’s systemic disorientation.
If you run a newsroom, stamp per-household costs on your next budget story. Date-stamp emissions in wildfire coverage. Publish the results: what changed, who complained, who learned something new. Let others follow.
If you’re a reader, vote with your attention. Subscribe to outlets that leave you better able to explain what you read. Unsubscribe from what leaves only cortisol behind. Each click trains the system. Each subscription funds one future over another.
The next decade won’t reward louder headlines. It will reward coherent sense-making. We can keep feeding the panic loop, or we can build a civic information gym strong enough to hold what’s coming.
We know the pressure points!
We have the tools to push them.
All that remains is to choose where to press.
P.S. Some of my favorite writing on news, journalism, and human-computer interfaces comes from none other than my fiancée
in her blog . Give it a read!