Journalism starts obsessing over something other than trust

We’re obsessed with trust in journalism. How do we get it? How did we lose it? How can we rebuild it?

These are all important questions — questions that drive my own research on the fundamentals and dynamics of trusted spaces and how we might reconnect communities with journalism.

But is trust really the only shiny object we should be vying for?

Trust has a flip side. I know there are tons of ways to operationalize and measure trust, but trust, at its core, is a belief that someone or something will live up to their proclaimed commitments. I’ve surveyed people all over the United States (with a hyperfocus on vulnerable communities in the Midwest), and there’s a few things that are clear. First, trust is a universal challenge, and people don’t trust a lot of things right now. But the news and information providers that many people directly name as their go-to ride-or-dies are usually some kind of engaged and visible thought leader. Many people, for example, name their moms. Others name their pastors or local activists.

When we ask why they trust these individuals for news, we hear time and time again that trusted spaces are places that are safe. You don’t have to question it. You don’t have to be skeptical. You don’t have to read more. They charge their trusted messengers with the responsibility of selecting and processing the information, and oftentimes they also expect them to help them make informed decisions.

Our research indicates that people are less likely to question the people they trust. They are less inclined to do important accountability work and less likely to feel compelled to verify the information. They are more likely to adopt the critical thinking of someone else as their own.

That kind of trust might be great in a romantic relationship. But is that what journalism really wants?

I’d say the answer is yes for the underwhelming minority of news, like when you’re talking about timely, life-or-death events such as evacuation notices for natural disasters or severe weather alerts. And, chances are, they probably do trust journalism in those moments. We see this trust reflected in the stereotype built in almost every apocalyptic movie or TV show you’ve watched — people turn to the news when it really matters. When giant comets are about to hit the earth, or when a raging disease is at the brink of turning us all into zombies, people leap to their televisions or tune in on their radios to figure out what to do next.

But for the rest of the news — which is the majority of news in our now constant news cycle — I imagine there’s a different currency in mind and trust isn’t what we really need from audiences. We want people to read and think, to question and provide feedback. We want them to keep reading, and realize one article can’t — and shouldn’t — provide them with everything they need to know. We want them to hold journalists and journalism accountable and to be a part of sharing more sides of the story. We want them to help us draft the ongoing first drafts of history. And none of that is directly synonymous with trust.

I hope 2026 is the year we replace our obsession with trust with some other currency that better assesses what we actually want and want to provide audiences: interest, respect, commitment, or engagement that results in a better-informed citizenry.