By Oliver Guinan

COVID-19 has made a big splash. Most places we shop, dine, and recreate have closed their doors to the public. Across the state Nevadans are feeling the sting of an economic slowdown. Many have risen to the challenge by donating time, money, and urgently needed medical supplies even as many of their own businesses fight to stay afloat. We are indebted to them. 

But to overcome any crisis in one piece, we need more than charity. We need leaders who we can trust. We need a government that is accountable and quick on its feet. And we need doctors, nurses, and caregivers. But, to keep the ship from sinking, we also need good journalism. We need folks in our community who are willing to take a hard look at our leaders and hold them accountable, who will keep us informed about rapidly changing circumstances and resources available to those in need. People who will keep telling stories no matter what. 

Last week the Reno News and Review suspended publication indefinitely. This leaves Reno, home of the renowned Reynolds School of Journalism, with a pretty destitute media landscape. There are great outlets, no question. This is Reno and The Nevada Independent are proof that donation-based journalism is sustainable and impactful. Even so, RN&R’s bottom-up reporting was unparalleled in Northern Nevada, and the paper’s suspension is devastating. 

But it is not surprising. As the New York Times reported last week: 

Since 2004, roughly one-fourth of American newspapers — more than 2,000 — have been lost to mergers or shutdowns, according to researchers at the University of North Carolina. Most were weeklies.

Since their inception, Google and Facebook have eaten up increasingly larger portions of the advertising revenue that once sustained the newspaper industry. Economic disruptions caused by the coronavirus only exacerbated the consolidation – pushing most companies to slash advertising budgets or migrate spending online, where the majority of readers exist. Additionally, social distancing makes holding local events, such as the Reno River Festival, impossible. A local paper thrives on support from these events and businesses. When they close, that relationship no longer exists. The Reno News and Review, already on thin ice, watched $25,000 of its $45,000 weekly revenue evaporate in one week. With no paying subscribers to correct the deficit, the paper had to call it quits. 

For the past year I have had the opportunity to write for the Reno News and Review. Few publications would even consider letting a 17-year-old freelance for them, and I am immensely grateful for the chance to feature my work alongside so many respected journalists. 

Writing about people and topics I care about not only made me a much stronger writer, but also helped me discover that journalism is what I want to pursue in life. It has also been an exercise in empathy. Learning about Renoites doing cool stuff was fulfilling, and I gained an entirely new appreciation for the community I am growing up in.  

I have been a part of the paper for a small portion of its 25-year history. But it did not take me long to understand what they were all about: telling important local stories energetically and with care. A few months ago, Brad Bynum, the executive editor of the RN&R, told me that an alt-weekly should act like a mirror to its community. When you read it, you should see the diversity, complexity, and creativity of your community reflected back at you. And that’s what reading the Reno News and Review felt like. The paper’s value to the community cannot be overstated, and neither can the loss. 

But in times of crisis and unrest we have to do more than reflect because there is more to lose. I hope that the Reno News and Review will somehow re-emerge, but that is unlikely. The advertising-based business model is irreparable.  

Since we can’t go back, there are a couple changes we have to make. First, we as consumers must realize that news does not simply exist. Michael Luo, an editor at the New Yorker, reminds us: “On some level, news is a product manufactured by journalists,” he wrote last week. “Fewer journalists means less news.”

Good journalism is not always profitable journalism – and that is okay. While news is a product, it is not a commodity. Reporting truthful information is time consuming and expensive, and we have to be willing to pay for it.

Yet personally valuing the news is not the whole picture. Even if interested, not everyone can afford to subscribe to a publication. In fact, only 16 percent of Americans pay for online news. Those who do are far more likely to be wealthy and have college degrees than those who do not. This means that most Americans, outside of three or four free articles per month, have a media diet of only scraps. What Facebook and Twitter’s algorithms prioritize are not what we should prioritize. Sensationalism and velocity are not valuable in news — thoughtfulness, empathy, and empiricism are. 

This brings us to the next step. To make fake news less powerful, we have to not only consider news as a product, but also as a utility. We all have a right to quality information, even if we can’t afford to subscribe to the Washington Post or the Wall Street Journal. To protect this right, we must petition our government to make massive investments in public media. National Public Radio (NPR) and the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) are excellent resources, but they receive very few federal dollars. Last year only 6 percent of NPR’s annual revenue, for example, derived from federal or state government funding. 

A glimpse of what this investment could look like can be found in the United Kingdom. Their British Broadcasting Company, or BBC, is funded by taxing British households with media players, like televisions or radios. Importantly, it is also independent from the British government. Prime Minister Boris Johnson could not, for instance, fire a radio host for challenging a policy of his. This eliminates the paywall. The BBC provides all UK residents with top quality reporting for free.

Beyond better informing more people, journalists have more autonomy within independent, socially controlled media outlets. It is not healthy for our democracy when billionaire investors can control our news. Jeff Bezos, owner of the Washington Post, and Rupert Murdoch, owner of Fox News, are well known examples. Here in Nevada, consider Sheldon Adelson. In the 2018 midterm election cycle, the Las Vegas casino magnate and his wife, Miriam, donated more than $120 million to conservative causes and Super PACs. They also happen to own the Las Vegas Review-Journal, the most widely read publication in Southern Nevada.   

Essentially, when our community loses journalists, we are worse off. The Reno News and Review was a remarkable publication, and I will dearly miss publishing there. The point is that we can do better. Local and independent journalism across the country is struggling. Coronavirus is one nail in the coffin, but online advertising monopolies like Google and Facebook are also to blame. We can either allow independent publications to fall out of circulation, or we can pay for what we read. 

Oliver Guinan is a high school student, musician, and freelance journalist in Reno.