My graduation advice to you, 22-year-old self: Go best, young man, go best.
Dear 22-year-old self:
The Photo, I call it. You are standing proud, clutching your well-earned diploma. You look pleased with yourself, which is pretty good because as I recall you had one too many Coors Lights the night before. And you are surrounded by family and friends. Some of them are gone now. But most of them will remain at your side. You giggled with one of them on the phone just the other night.
The 40-year anniversary of that glorious day in the Los Angeles sun is nearly upon us. A lot will happen. You will go back to the same school and earn a master’s degree. You will meet a girl. You will raise five kids. The best part? The dogs, of course. They are always the best part.
The Photo was taken on a Friday. The following Tuesday, having majored in print journalism, you will be a working reporter at a daily newspaper. Also known as an ink-stained wretch. Less than a year later, you will be an award-winning one.
A couple of years later, you will transition to a PR firm. From where you will start looking at journalism with a jaundiced eye. The world will soon follow suit. The first biggest turning point will come 10 years after The Photo. Some guy named Al Gore will invent this thing called the internet. It will change the world. People will now be able to get news and information virtually instantaneously. Who wants to wait for the next morning to see the hockey scores when you can see them right now on your computer?
The second biggest turning point? A few years later a guy named Steve Jobs will popularize this thing called a smartphone. It will run your life. Who needs to wait until they can get in front of a computer to see the hockey scores?
The third biggest turning point? This thing they call social media. I’m not sure who started it. Or when. But let’s just say this: When it comes to newspapers, it’s three big turning points, and you’re out. As I write this, 3,200 newspapers have shut down since 2005. Which means there are fewer and fewer jobs for journalists all the time. The new definition of the apocalypse? There are now six PR people for every journalist.
Your beloved profession, the only profession you had ever dreamed of making your own ever since All the President’s Men, will become a tackling dummy over time. As of 2025, public trust in mass media will sink to an all-time low of 31 percent. That will put journalism just ahead of, yes, lawyers. Did you hear the one about the busload of journalists going over the cliff? Never mind.
Did you make the wrong decision to follow in Woodward’s footsteps?
Absolutely not. And here’s why. Because learning to be a journalist also taught you a few other things – things that are valuable no matter one’s profession. Writing. Building relationships. Interviewing people. Knowing how to distinguish between truth and lies. I recently heard that there is a journalism class at the University of Montana entitled Calling Bullshit. I looked it up, and JRNL 102Y is indeed for real. No bullshit.
What you learned to do has always been important. But it is even more important than ever nowadays. Fewer local media outlets mean the public receives less civic information, thus affecting voter turnout. Less media coverage leads directly to an increase in bureaucratic corruption. Fewer objective news sources give rise to biased media, thus deepening the societal divide. Lack of journalistic freedom gives easier rise to authoritarian regimes. At a time when we trust journalists less than ever before, we need them more than ever before. Whether or not we realize it.
Then there’s this: You majored in what you loved. You will someday leave being a journalist behind. But you will never leave journalism. Every job you will ever have will require you to understand journalism. To understand journalists. To understand the news cycle. To understand how to affect it.
Forty years after The Photo, you will come full circle. Along with co-leading a new marketing and communications firm, you will go back to J-school. To teach. As you look out at the fresh faces, you will be reminded of you.
If you have the chance to choose journalism again, you should. And I am confident you would. Especially if you suspect upfront that still being around All Things Journalism four decades later will still be the best.
Go best, young man, go best. And don’t forget the dogs. They are always the best part.
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