My Clwstwr-funded research into News Storytelling can’t just be about form or structure. We know our journalism is facing a crisis that’s as much editorial as it is economic, so any reflection on the industry must start from first principles. What is our journalism for, and who is it serving?

My 25 years in TV newsrooms has taught me that, too often, journalism is made with other journalists — rather than viewers — in mind. In simple terms, our key motivation has been competition rather than comprehension. The most obvious example of this is our obsession with “Breaking” News, where speed is prioritised over context, analysis or an explanation of what a story actually means. The only reference point for Breaking News is whether a tweet, strap line or push notification has “beaten” the competition. The question of whether it has helped the viewer understand the world better is never even asked.

I explored these themes, and more, in conversation with Professor Justin Lewis from Cardiff University’s School of Journalism, Media and Cultural Studies this week. He’s particularly interested in the role journalism plays in citizenship, pointing out that this is, ostensibly, the key principle underlying everything we do. Once we get past the profit motive — no longer a terribly rational reason for being in journalism, and certainly not one which applies in broadcast — the reason for it to exist is to create an informed citizenry.

For too long though, that informational and educational role has been taken on trust — and TV journalism hasn’t really been held to account. For example, crime stories make up a sizeable proportion of TV news coverage, and many organisations even have a Crime Correspondent. But how many stories of individual criminal acts go beyond shock or prurience to actually advance aims of citizenship? In reality, they create a distorted view of the world which makes it harder to have evidence-based discussions on criminal justice policy. A disproportionate focus on the very worst criminals means our discourse becomes shaped solely around ideas of punishment rather than rehabilitation and a negative spiral is triggered and perpetuated.

Crime is just the most obvious example, but as journalists we have to start asking ourselves whether the stories we cover actually help viewers understand the world better, put policy in context, or help them to engage with the world in a more productive way. As Justin puts it, “we need to move away from creating journalism that comes out of the practice of journalism, towards journalism that meets the needs of citizens to become better informed.”

Vox pops are, of course, the classic example of “journalism” that comes out of the practice of journalism. We know all about the many and various problems with formulaic vox pops, but still they persist — out of lazy, un-reflective habit. Justin highlights that they fulfil a journalistic need — to feel somehow “in touch” with the common person — but they have precisely zero utility to the viewer, the person we’re actually trying to inform. Why, when we know all this, do we continue to use them?

Perhaps it starts with our archaic conception of the public. TV journalism is still very “top down” — we journalists like to think of ourselves as experts — but maintaining that fallacy requires treating viewers and citizens as if they’re children. In research Justin carried out with Karin Wahl-Jorgensen, they found that members of the public — when they appeared in news programmes — had very little agency. Whether in vox pops or as contributors, they were generally treated as passive subjects, rather than active participants. Essentially, the world was happening to them, rather than them being seen as actors who could themselves have a positive effect on it. In that context — a discourse created and reinforced by TV journalism — can it really be any surprise when those same people say that they don’t see the point in voting, because “it won’t make any difference”.

We could help that, by offering more journalism which provides longitudinal context rather than just focussing on the events on a particular day. We assume too much knowledge, and don’t allow viewers a way in to complex subjects. Justin and others have also done research illustrating how too little TV journalism answers the basic question “what does it mean to me”? That needs to go further than the traditional “The budget has made you £20 a year better off” towards, “That x cut in air passenger duty will have this y impact on climate change”. That’s simplistic of course, but would start to help viewers question why— for example — the Welsh Government can declare a Climate Emergency, yet still be pressing for the devolution of Air Passenger Duty to make Cardiff Airport (which it owns) more competitive.

At some level, journalists understand that they’re not connecting with viewers, but many of the solutions they’re offering are desperate, short-term and potentially counter-productive. There is a new obsession with “opinion”, whether that be from rent-a-gob contributors or — most worryingly — supposedly impartial journalists being encouraged to express their personal “views”. This is apparently justified by notions of it being useful to get viewers fired up, to engage them, but in a world where accusations of bias or conspiracy plague almost every story on every news programme, consciously and deliberately eroding our own impartiality cannot be sound thinking.

Surely it would be more constructive to directly interact with communities and their stories, and promote engagement by accurately reflecting the world. If we take all the terrestrial broadcasters plus Sky News as an example, just 2 of the 5 have a Wales Correspondent based in Wales. This is a country with devolved Education, Health, Housing and Transport systems — to name just four key areas of citizenship. If the different political, social and cultural conditions experienced by people across the UK aren’t adequately reflected in the news, then how can viewers effectively understand the real impacts of policy and the decisions made in Westminster, Cardiff Bay, Holyrood or (generally) Stormont.

We get the wrong answers when we ask the wrong questions of course. Until, as journalists, we start to ask how all aspects of our work can make a consistent and lasting difference to citizenship, we will continue to lose credibility, trust and relevance.