Confronting the loss of local news in Pennsylvania | Opinion

As the managing fellow of an organization that promotes ethical journalism and media, I get lots of eye rolls when asked what I do for a living.

Everyone has an opinion on what is ethical regarding the news.

When I then ask where they get their news, I’m the one doing the eye roll.

It seems an increasing number of people read whatever “news” pops up on their phones, typically through social media feeds. I imagine few note the actual source.

Reliable? Trustworthy? Doubtful.

The venerable New York Times may be thriving, thanks to recipes, puzzles and, yes, news. But most news outlets throughout the country — and Pennsylvania — are not.

And that’s scary.

In an era when information is abundant but trust is elusive, the collapse of local journalism poses a profound threat to our democracy. Across the United States, communities are grappling with the disappearance of news sources that once held power to account and kept residents informed about decisions shaping their daily lives.

Over the past 20 years, the United States has lost more than 3,200 newspapers, with two more shuttering every week, according to Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism, which closely follows the industry. Of the fewer than 5,600 newspapers that remain, about 80% are weeklies. These closures have left behind “news deserts”— areas with little or no access to credible, original reporting.

The Keystone State is no exception.

In Pennsylvania, two counties have lost their only news sources, and news outlets in many rural areas are limping along with one or two reporters. The metropolitan anchors of Pittsburgh and Philadelphia still maintain viable news producers, but those news outlets are shadows of their former selves. Just 25 years ago, each city supported multiple competing newspapers, with newsrooms staffed by hundreds of reporters who covered everything from city hall to neighborhood zoning meetings. Today, those numbers have declined precipitously. The city beats that once swarmed with seasoned journalists competing for stories are now sparsely and sporadically covered.

My former employer — The Associated Press, the nation’s oldest wire service — had 10 full-time reporters, photographers and editors covering western Pennsylvania when I supervised the Pittsburgh bureau in the 1990s. Now, it has one photographer and a sportswriter.

Why should you care?

Why should the business side of the news business matter?

When watchdogs vanish, so too does oversight — and the effects ripple far beyond the newsroom. What fills the vacuum isn’t journalism — it’s often misinformation, unchecked rumors or viral content crafted more for outrage than accuracy. In the absence of well-staffed newsrooms, social media platforms and partisan blogs distort facts, fuel polarization and erode the public’s ability to make informed decisions. Without reliable information, communities become less engaged and, ultimately, less democratic. A post office clerk asked me recently where she could find factual, unbiased news. How sad that she had to ask.

It’s time we acknowledge a hard truth: Trustworthy journalism doesn’t come free.

Investigative reporting, rigorous fact-checking and ethical storytelling require trained professionals and real resources, which cost money up front before a single word is written or broadcast. Yet, for years, we’ve been conditioned to expect news for free — scrolling past paywalls and ignoring subscription prompts. This mindset, combined with the collapse of traditional ad revenue, has led to widespread layoffs and consolidation under profit-driven conglomerates.

There is, however, hope that the Fourth Estate, whose rights were so essential they were enshrined in the First Amendment, can survive the turmoil and even thrive.

Several universities are convening journalists, educators, funders and policymakers to find ways to rebuild sustainable models for local journalism and prevent the further erosion of news outlets across the commonwealth. The solutions are varied, ranging from university partnerships and nonprofit newsrooms to creative business models and government support.

For instance, the University of Florida created a news service that sends carefully vetted stories written by students to at least 80 news outlets across the state. In Illinois, a state senator championed a bill passed just last year that strengthens community media through scholarship programs, employment tax credits and the requirement that communities receive adequate notice before their local news organization can be sold to out-of-state owners. In South Carolina, the state’s largest newspaper collaborates with small, struggling dailies and weeklies to investigate stories that would otherwise go unreported.

We, the news consumers, are critical to this effort. We must learn to ask: Who is behind this story? Can I verify this source? Am I supporting outlets that uphold journalistic standards? And am I willing to pay for this service?

Paying for news, challenging questionable social media “news” feeds, sharing credible sources and promoting media literacy are essential acts of civic responsibility. Saving local news isn’t just about preserving newspapers or their digital cousins — it’s about protecting the public’s right to know and participate.

And that’s something no Pennsylvanian — indeed, no American — can afford to ignore.