By Bravious Kahyoza
1. The Meaning Behind the “Death” of Journalism
The claim that “journalism is dead,” popularised by cultural commentators such as Bruce Sallan (2014), captures a widespread unease about the state of news in the digital era. Sallan’s lament is not simply nostalgia for print newspapers; it is a metaphor for what many see as journalism’s loss of credibility, integrity, and social purpose. The argument resonates globally: newsroom layoffs, shrinking circulation, disinformation, and “clickbait” culture have eroded faith in journalism as a democratic institution. Yet, like many obituaries, the death notice may be premature.
Across the world, journalism is undergoing a significant transformation under the pressures of technology, economics, and politics. According to the Reuters Institute (2023), global newspaper revenues have declined by more than 70 per cent in the past two decades, while digital advertising has been captured by platforms such as Google and Meta. The resulting “news deserts,” particularly in the United States and Europe, leave communities
without local reporters (Abernathy, 2020). Similar dynamics occur in the Global South, where fragile advertising markets and state controls limit independent reporting.
In this sense, Sallan’s “death” metaphor points to a structural reality: the traditional newsroom, staffed with trained reporters, financed by ads, and committed to the public interest, is disintegrating. Kavanagh and Rich (2018) refer to this phenomenon as “truth decay,” a process in which the distinction between fact and opinion blurs, and trust in once-respected sources erodes. I see this not only in global surveys but also in daily life: audiences today scroll through a blur of posts, memes, and half-verified stories, rarely distinguishing journalism from commentary.
However, declaring journalism “dead” ignores its adaptability. Historically, journalism has survived every technological upheaval, from the telegraph to television, by reinventing itself. What has changed is its form and authority, not its underlying purpose. The metaphor of death, while emotionally powerful, oversimplifies a far more complex evolution.
2. Global and Tanzanian Realities: Journalism in Crisis and Transition
Globally, journalism’s crisis is evident in the disappearance of investigative units and the rise of “content factories.” In the United States, for example, over 2,500 newspapers have closed since 2005 (Abernathy, 2020). In the United Kingdom, scholars like Davis (2019) describe a “post-truth” media environment where sensationalism takes precedence over verification. Even in advanced democracies, the chase for clicks often replaces public service, echoing Sallan’s frustration that modern news “has become opinion dressed as fact.”Europe’s local media scene tells a similar story. Mota (2023) notes the erosion of “proximity journalism” in Portugal, where regional outlets collapse and citizens rely on social media influencers for information. In South Africa, Daniels (2022) documents how declining advertising and political pressure have weakened investigative journalism. These cases affirm that the crisis is global, not merely Western, and that Sallan’s epitaph captures genuine decay in journalism’s traditional ecosystem.
In Tanzania, the symptoms are strikingly familiar, though shaped by local realities. The State of the Media in Tanzania 2020-21 report by the Media Council of Tanzania (MCT, 2022) describes a profession “trapped between economic precarity and political vulnerability.” More than half of Tanzanian journalists earn less than TZS 500,000 per month, often lacking contracts or safety guarantees. Many newsrooms rely on government advertising or sponsorship, blurring the boundaries between reporting and propaganda. During field interviews in Dar es Salaam, several reporters explained how they had to choose between self-censorship and unemployment, an impossible trade-off that gradually stifles independent journalism.
Regulatory and political constraints deepen this fragility. The Media Services Act 2016 and subsequent regulations have permitted suspensions of newspapers critical of the state, such as the temporary bans of Mwanahalisi and Mawio (Article 19, 2021). Although presented as measures of “discipline,” these actions reduce the space for critical inquiry. As Rioba (2009) points out, Tanzanian journalism has historically developed under strict state supervision; therefore, its current challenges are part of a longstanding pattern.
Yet, even here, journalism remains resilient. Digital outlets such as The Chanzo and Jamii Forums continue investigating corruption and governance, often at personal risk. Community radio stations, especially in rural areas, still inform citizens about health, climate, and education. I have seen reporters travel on motorbikes through Mwanza’s villages to cover local elections, armed only with mobile phones. These acts of perseverance, however small, show that journalism in Tanzania is not dead but fighting to survive.
3. My Take: A Dead Model, Not a Dead Mission
After examining these patterns, my perspective partly agrees with Sallan’s lament but also challenges his fatalism. The old industrial model of journalism—hierarchical, print-focused, advertising-funded—is effectively obsolete. However, journalism as a mission—to investigate, explain, and hold power to account—remains alive, though wounded.
In my view, the “death” narrative must give way to one of transformation. As Pavlik (2019) argues, digital convergence has not killed journalism; it has demanded new literacies. Journalists today must master data analysis, multimedia storytelling, and audience engagement to maintain credibility. Tanzanian institutions such as the University of Dar es Salaam’s School of Journalism and Mass Communication are now incorporating digital reporting and fact-checking into curricula (Ndossi & Ndati, 2022). Such efforts suggest rebirth rather than decline.
Still, rebirth requires three deliberate shifts.
First, re-imagining economics. Without financial independence, editorial independence cannot exist. Globally, philanthropic and membership models offer optimism. Outlets like The Guardian (UK) and The Texas Tribune (US) maintain serious journalism through reader donations and donor support. Tanzanian media could adopt similar hybrid approaches, blending community backing, NGO collaborations, and transparent digital subscriptions, to lessen reliance on state or corporate adverts.
Second, strengthen professional integrity. K Journalism must resist the “brown-envelope” culture that affects underpaid reporters. This requires institutional reform, not just moral appeals. The MCT’s recent code of ethics revisions (2022) and regional workshops on investigative standards are promising beginnings. My own conversations with young Tanzanian journalists reveal pride in integrity but frustration at systemic neglect: “We want to tell the truth,” one told me, “but truth doesn’t pay rent.”
Third, rebuilding trust. Public confidence in journalism relies on consistent accuracy, transparency, and empathy. When journalists make mistakes, they must correct them openly. Audiences value authenticity more than perfection. In my teaching experience, students respond best to stories that combine evidence with human touch, exactly the blend journalism can still provide better than algorithms or influencers.
If journalism is dying, it is not due to obsolescence but to neglect. Its pulse weakens when society undervalues verified information. Yet, the COVID-19 pandemic demonstrated how desperately we still need credible reporters: from The New York Times’ live dashboards to The Citizen Tanzania’s local health updates, journalism guided citizens through confusion. That lived reminder shows me journalism is not dead; it simply needs care, reinvention, and renewed trust.
Finally, Sallan’s declaration of death reflects a crisis of confidence, not extinction. Journalism, as an idea and vocation, is too intertwined with human curiosity and accountability to vanish. It will evolve, adapt, stumble, and rise again, because societies cannot breathe democracy without truthful air.
*Bravious Kahyoza is a Senior Economic and International Affairs Analyst and a graduand of Media and Communication at the Commonwealth Institute of Advanced and Professional Studies.
References
Abernathy, P. M. (2020). News Deserts and Ghost Newspapers: Will Local News Survive? University of North Carolina Press.
Article 19. (2021). Tanzania: Media freedom remains fragile under new leadership. https://www.article19.org
Daniels, G. (2022). Power and Loss: Investigative Journalism in South Africa. Routledge.
Davis, A. (2019). Political Communication and Social Theory. Routledge.
Kavanagh, J., & Rich, M. D. (2018). Truth Decay: An Initial Exploration of the Diminishing Role of Facts and Analysis in American Public Life. RAND Corporation.
Media Council of Tanzania (MCT). (2022). State of the Media in Tanzania 2020-2021. Dar es Salaam: MCT.
Mota, D. (2023). The erosion of proximity: Issues and challenges for local journalism. Communication & Society, 36(2), 45-59.
Ndossi, B., & Ndati, N. (2022). The role of regulatory frameworks in enhancing journalism training and media practice in Tanzania. East African Journal of Applied Social Sciences, 5(2), 93-110.
Pavlik, J. V. (2019). Journalism in the Age of Virtual Reality: How Experiential Media Are Transforming News. Columbia University Press.
Reuters Institute. (2023). Digital News Report 2023. University of Oxford.
Rioba, A. M. (2009). The Media History of Tanzania. University of Dar es Salaam Press.
Sallan, B. (2014, June 7). Why I Don’t Read a Newspaper. BruceSallan.com.