On Feb. 26, Jeff Bezos announced changes in The Washington Post’s opinion section, positioning the paper around “personal liberties and free markets” and further normalizing editorial restraint in press coverage — a concern all too close to home for UTD students.
Bezos suggested the paper needed to embrace a specialized angle to survive in the coming years, and articles with a clear partisan slant have proliferated since. Most recently, opinions included decorum criticism of how “Democrats showed little respect for the president,” extended support of Trump’s immigration policy and an overdue description of how single men are becoming more right-wing. The shift indicates a strain of media more interested in appeasing government subjects rather than dutifully interrogating their actions.
In the weeks following the shift, a flurry of resignations battered the newspaper. First, opinion editor David Shipley resigned. More recently, columnist Ruth Marcus criticized Bezos’ redirection. After her article was blocked from being published, she resigned and published her critique in The New Yorker. This past month is a small facet of the broader wave of resignations from the Post, with many seeking refuge at other papers like The Atlantic after Bezos acquired the company.
The Post has long been a pillar of American democracy since its founding in 1877. It stood alongside The New York Times in 1971, publishing segments of the Pentagon Papers — an achievement the paper prides itself on for exposing government corruption. And, since its founding, it has influenced public opinion drastically. See: garnering nationwide support for the Spanish-American War with the infamous 1898 “Remember the Maine” comic. In both instances, the opinion section established crucial, personal perspectives that humanized massive news events. Bezos’ changes make this legacy more difficult, if not impossible, to continue.
Specializing in a form of coverage makes sense. While the phrase “press in America is dying” would have been a hyperbole decades ago, it feels uncannily real now. Monetary constraints are tugging on many press agencies: ABC has shut down fivethirtyeight.com under the justification of budget issues; centrist news outlet The Messenger closed after a rocky quarter; and, The New York Times feels more like a platform for daily games instead of producing high quality journalism. It makes sense that in an era of continual shuttering of press that any step toward minimizing press costs would be taken. The Post can claim that focusing on a sect of all news is a necessary step toward its own security. Yet, it appears that these cuts and redirections, in both the Post and the industry at large, continually lead to shifts toward tamer, lever-of-power-appealing coverage.
The seemingly small changes in guidelines should not be taken lightly. Sure, opinion articles critical of Trump still exist on the Post. Other publications are not so sure that editorial freedom can be untied from the tightening leash of corporate owners and financial struggles. Guardian columnist Margaret Sullivan bluntly called the move a “death knell” and “to sell [The Washington Post] to someone who understands the stewardship of a national treasure.” It remains unclear how there can remain an independent fourth branch of government when that branch suffers from fiscal constraints and a threat-based political society.
This incident is a stark reminder of the far too local threat that monetary strings can hold on press outlets. Without external support, it seems The Retrograde would be nothing more than a quiet online blog relegated to niche chatter about campus politics; however, and unfortunately for UTD administrators, it has outlived those hopes of a press-less student body. Money, especially for college students, though, is a crucial resource. Students writing for The Retrograde are running an increasingly steep opportunity cost: any time spent drafting, interviewing or writing is time not spent working, studying or writing for a paid role like they would have been at The Mercury.
I, for one, deeply enjoy working with most members of UTD’s administration, yet remain scared at the continual threats surrounding student media. While Student Affairs seeks to restart The Mercury, the fear of arrest for walking into student media offices, inconsistently applied bylaws and an extremely hostile tone surrounding anything resembling reform all hinder hopes of creating a flourishing beacon of open press on campus. UTD admin is not winning the hearts and minds of students with statements declaring “student media staff and advisors are not censors” when there exist real concerns about the validity of those claims.
I am open to dialogue with members of admin regarding reform efforts, yet the inverse of that appears unlikely. When push comes to shove, UTD has the money and control. The only two real protections student journalists have are guidelines, which outline limitations on that control, and their ability to write, which enable them to leave disliked organizations. One of those protections fell through. We shouldn’t have to rely on others to speak our mind.
Just as the Post’s new guidelines seem to signal a willingness to allow institutional censorship in exchange for financial stability, UTD journalists must be wary of surrendering their fundamental opinions and practices in exchange for cash-backed lures in the coming months. The parallels are clear: the rules on publication are changing in the long-running game of media. Shipley resigned following a seemingly tense and coercive dialogue with Bezos. Members of The Mercury were fired following a series of similarly disagreeable terms. Calls for budget cuts from upper management are ringing. Free speech is in jeopardy.
Though criticizing admin is easy, there’s a far more nuanced discussion to be had about how journalists should approach this matter. How can we win when UTD owns the stadium, plays as the home team and calls the shots for the umpire? First, we can redefine who “we” are. With proper edits, open conversations and a willingness to admit mistakes, there is hope of achieving actionable limits on the strings of money. There’s enough room on team Free Press for a few more. But, if it’s a rivalry they want under the banner of a still-fractured Mercury, I’d guess the players will stop swinging and strike once again (pun fully intended).
The answer of how to solve this modern issue lies in the U.S’s historically favorite pastime. In 2022, when Minor League Baseball players found themselves dealing with unfair conditions, they joined the Major League Baseball Players Association — a union.
Batter up.