I think journalism is in a perilous position, and we are in danger of sleepwalking into losing something fundamental to our democracy.

There is no question that journalism matters.

Indeed, it is such an article of faith that our work is often taken for granted.

The question, now that our industry is under threat from so many directions, is whether we as a society are prepared to defend it. And to defend it not simply with kind words and expressions of support, but with tangible actions that ensure journalism has a future.

At the Manchester Evening News, we see every day what trusted local journalism can achieve.

Over the last 12 months, we have investigated turmoil at Oldham council, a sex scandal and cover up at Salford Council, far right activities, sex offenders living near a playground and much much more.

We have successfully campaigned for free bus fares for homeless children, and through the campaign for Gigi fought for safer nurseries for babies.

We secured an apology from the FA for the Corinthians, a group of women footballers, now aged in their 80s and 90s who weren’t allowed to play on FA grounds for 50 years.

Two weeks ago we published a long read on Abu Dhabi’s investment in Manchester which revealed the definitive picture of what happened. We do all this while covering the day-to-day breaking news, courts and inquests.

In Manchester, one of my proudest achievements was when we exposed the circumstances surrounding the death of two-year-old Awaab Ishak who was killed by damp in his social housing.

We campaigned for change, and Awaab’s Law followed. People only know about Awaab and the institutional apathy he faced because of the Manchester Evening News.

All of this journalism that changes lives.

How Google undermines public interest journalism

But try Googling any of these stories and you’ll find an AI-generated summary. It doesn’t matter that there’s a link to the original reporting, because you never need to click on it. Google has already summarised the information for you.

Any AI licensing deals do little to compensate for the revenue lost to businesses like the MEN as Google uses publishers’ work to keep people on its own platform.

All this becomes even more damaging during a major breaking news event.

During last year’s attack on Heaton Park Synagogue, we had 28 journalists working across all platforms in the newsroom and at the scene. We were there to establish what had happened, challenge rumours and provide accurate information at a frightening moment for our city. Yet if you searched Google for the Manchester terror attack, our coverage was buried on page eight.

International outlets carrying agency copy outranked the journalists who were actually there, despite more than 10,000 websites linking to our original reporting.

Google apologised, as it should have done. But the problem hasn’t gone away. When we reported that police had thwarted another alleged attack on the Jewish community this year, we saw exactly the same thing happen again. In fact, this happens most days to most news brands across the country.

So the question I pose is this: why should unregulated, non-UK technology platforms have such power over what people see, even when they are actively looking for news?

And this isn’t just about our visibility. The economics are just as troubling.

Publishers built digital businesses around platforms that encouraged people to click through to our journalism. Now those same platforms increasingly summarise our work, keeping users on their own services rather than sending them to the original reporting. The value is taken from journalism while the business model that pays for it is undermined.

I often think the way this information ecosystem works, with algorithms controlled by global technology giants deciding what the unwitting public sees, would have even blown the mind of former Manchester Evening News writer George Orwell.

BBC expansion is undermining commercial publishers

All this is happening while the BBC expands further into the local news market.

I am a Radio 4 obsessive. The BBC is an extraordinary national asset, and the scale of the cuts being planned is deeply troubling (can’t believe anyone would scrap You and Yours).

But my experience, and that of fellow local and regional editors, is that stories are regularly lifted and published without credit on their site, often by digital teams who haven’t been out on the streets doing the reporting. These stories can outrank the original reporting because the BBC is a global brand, carries no advertising and therefore is prioritised by Google.

Ofcom said the BBC strategy would have a 1-2% impact on local news. In fact we estimate, based on the BBC’s current local news audience growth, it is costing the local news industry around £12m a year and therefore many jobs. This £12m is much more than is spent on the LDR scheme.

Publicly funded local news should complement the work of independent publishers, not compete with it in ways that hasten their decline.

Data suggests that 70 per cent of stories covered by the BBC have already been reported by a local publisher. The BBC could be a powerful partner, directing audiences towards original local reporting or working with the industry as it already does through the Local Democracy Reporting scheme.

We need collaboration, not a fight for survival against a privileged competitor. It’s an unfair fight.

Why we need journalists in the age of Tiktok

I speak in schools, and I was once asked: what’s the point of having journalists when you’ve got TikTok?

And actually, that’s a perfectly reasonable question from someone of that age, because TikTok is where they get so much of their information.

But there is a problem.

During the riots a few years ago, social media was full of claims about violence across Greater Manchester. For example, someone on TikTok reported that a police car was on fire outside an Aldi and fighting had broken out.

Our reporters were there, and were able to show that in fact the area was completely peaceful. Our reporting helped people understand what was actually happening on their streets.

This kind of fact-checking has become a vital part of the day job.

Recently, rumours circulated that veterans were being moved out of a care home to make way for asylum seekers. It simply wasn’t true. Anger only began to subside when we published a fact-checked account.

And when footage circulated online after a young man was murdered in Salford, it had been manipulated in ways that fuelled a poisonous narrative about his death. We investigated and established what the footage did, and did not, show. We revealed that it had been edited together to tell a story that was simply wrong.

Very recently we fact-checked a post that had been widely read on social media wrongly claiming that planes full of migrants were landing at Manchester Airport on secret night time flights.

Senior police and council leaders regularly tell us that our reporting has calmed communities and helped prevent disorder in ways others simply cannot.

The role journalism plays in these circumstances is not a luxury.

In an information environment flooded with unverified claims and AI slop, access to accurate information is essential to the functioning of our society.

We are also seeing the consequences of a world in which anyone can claim to be a journalist without accepting the responsibilities that should come with that title.

Some online content creators do excellent work. But we have also seen self-styled auditors filming Nicola Bulley’s body being pulled from the river, or turning up at the synagogue attack to livestream grieving relatives and harass our reporters on the ground. This is what would likely fill the void if we weren’t there.

Professional journalism means verification, accountability and a duty to the public. It means more than simply having the ability to broadcast for clicks and cash.

Our investigations into some of the auditors who have plagued Manchester city centre with divisive agendas has achieved what the police could not – they have gone. At a recent event a senior police officer shook my hand and thanked me for doing what they couldn’t.

But this problem won’t go away. That is why I worry so much about what happens if trusted local news is diminished.

Publishers need a level playing field with tech platforms

Now, some people might say: stop bleating and just build a local news business model that works.

And there’s a lazy misconception, one of many that infuriates me, that local media hasn’t moved with the times. Actually, we’ve adapted enormously.

At the MEN, we have hundreds of thousands of followers on TikTok, Instagram and X, and millions on Facebook. But other than Facebook, these platforms are largely loss leaders for us. We’re there because that’s where the audience is. It means we reach millions of people every day with our journalism, alongside the seven million visitors a month to our website and app.

Audience interest is certainly not the problem.

In Manchester, as at many other news brands, we’ve developed a model where people can pay to subscribe for an experience with fewer adverts and access to Premium content. We also limit the number of stories people can read for free.

But my job is to make sure the millions of people who live in Greater Manchester and the wider North know what’s going on in their communities. And I am acutely aware that some of the communities I serve are among the most deprived in Britain.

So I keep breaking news and stories of public interest free. Almost all of our coverage of the various political earthquakes that hit Greater Manchester this year was free.

That undoubtedly costs me subscribers. But it does not benefit democracy if trusted local news is available only to those who are willing and able to pay for it.

The problem is that we do not have a level playing field.

We, and by that I mean trusted, regulated publishers across the country, stand out from the AI slop and skewed political narratives that increasingly dominate the information landscape.

But we need the government to recognise that vibrant local journalism is not an optional extra or a luxury.

We need a fairer relationship between publishers and digital platforms.

We need to protect public notices as a means of informing communities. And we need to confront legal intimidation, including strategic lawsuits against public participation, or SLAPPs, designed to silence public-interest reporting.

I’m sorry that I cannot offer a rosier picture of the situation. I wish I could.

I love this profession and I get great joy from the journalism I see being done and the lives changed by it.

Every day, across this country, hard-working journalists graft in their communities to raise issues that matter to people. They do so often under enormous pressure.

And our industry is not always very good at explaining just how serious the situation has become. From our side, we need to get better at that. Part of that means speaking honestly about the challenges we face.

Because if strong local journalism is diminished, we lose more than the news. We lose scrutiny. We lose accountability. We lose a vital part of the connection between people and the places they live.

Once that is gone, it will be extraordinarily difficult to get back. Maybe impossible.

So yes, journalism matters. The question now is whether we are going to act as though it does. The question is what we, as a society, are prepared to do to protect and defend it before it is too late.”

[This is an abridged version or Sarah Lester’s speech to a Parliamentary reception to market Journalism Matters week. See the full version here.)

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