How Real Journalism Can Crawl Out of the Algorithm’s Dumpster Fire

8 December 2025 Reading Time: 6 minutes

Kevin Pérez-Allen:

“Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” – The anthropomorphized journalism industry, probably

The news industry isn’t dead. It’s just extremely drunk, lying face-down in the middle of the field at Coachella while influencers dance on its back for engagement points.

Most people under 35 get their news from social media now, mainly TikTok, Instagram, or YouTube. They wake up, scroll, and assume they are “informed.” Unfortunately, what they’re actually doing is mainlining chaos through an algorithm that rewards emotional instability.

More than half of American adults get at least some of their news from social media. For people under 30, that number is closer to four in ten on TikTok alone. In other words, millions of people are relying on an app originally designed for lip-sync videos to shape their understanding of the world. It’s like learning history from a Chili’s bartender with strong opinions about the Roman Empire. Not ideal.

And while this might sound like a generational thing, it’s not. This is a structural issue. The way social media delivers “news” isn’t journalism. It’s Fox News for the digital age. It’s fast, loud, and confident about everything, even when it’s wrong. And it’s usually wrong. There’s no verification, no correction, and no shame. The entire system is built on who can trigger the most reactions in the least amount of time.

Traditional journalism, meanwhile, is stuck arguing over whether people will pay $3 a month for online access when they can get free hysteria instead. The answer is no. Not because people can’t afford it, but because the internet trained them to expect outrage for free.

Still, the decline of the news industry doesn’t mean it has to stay buried. Like a zombie in a George Romero movie (the only acceptable movie zombies, by the way), real news can break its cold, mostly dead, hand from the grave. A market for credible information exists. It just has to look, sound, and move differently. The solution isn’t to act younger, it’s to act smarter.

So how can real journalism fight its way back without relying on Miracle Max?

For starters, newsrooms have to stop acting like grandpa trying to use slang at Thanksgiving (This turkey doesn’t taste like rizz, Grandpa. That’s not how to use it). You can’t win people over by pretending to be something you’re not. This is why Donald Trump has never become a serious politician. His popularity would sink like a 1960s FBI informant in the Hudson River. You win people over by being the only ones left who tell the truth without needing a trending sound clip.

That means thinking in formats, not fossils. If your strategy is still built around the six-o’clock broadcast or the next morning’s paper, congratulations, you’re producing artifacts. They’ll be worth money one day, but not today.

The next generation of news consumers is swiping through 90-second clips, not flipping pages. Meet them there, but meet them with reporting that still has a backbone. Make it visual, make it quick, but don’t make it hollow. They already have that. That’s what we’re trying to get rid of.

Hire people who know how to use the tools. Not interns who think “content” is a vibe, but real creators who understand editing, timing, and presentation. Most successful creators have the same instincts and vision as the best advertising execs and movie directors. Use that.

Then pair them with journalists who know what verification means and that every story needs credible sources. The creator brings the hook, the journalist brings the spine. Together they can produce something that actually informs instead of just infects.

And for the love of credibility, stop dumping chopped-up news segments on TikTok like day-old Del Taco french fries (spoiler alert: They’re disgusting). Build for the platform from the start. A 90-second explainer on what’s actually happening in Congress will always beat a ten-second meme about what someone screamed outside it.

Transparency helps too. People don’t trust institutions anymore, but they still trust authenticity. Let them see how stories are built. Show your sources, your process, your corrections. If a reporter screws up, admit it. Don’t bury it three links deep in the website footer like you’re hiding the aforementioned 1960s informant body after it resurfaced. Trust isn’t built by being flawless, it’s built by being honest when you’re not.

And while we’re at it, tone matters. News shouldn’t sound like a lecture or a late-night monologue. It shouldn’t be smug, performative, or dripping with bias. People are getting tired of snark disguised as truth and commentary dressed up as fact. That’s essentially what all news has become, because the definition of “news” is anyone saying anything confidently on a camera.

Just because television isn’t the medium of the future doesn’t erase the need for a Walter Cronkite of TikTok. The average person has plenty of entertainment already, what they need is to understand what’s real from someone they like and trust.

The best reporting feels like someone smart, well-informed, unbiased, and occasionally funny is helping you make sense of a world that keeps setting itself on fire. The average person doesn’t need every detail of the budget reconciliation process. They need to understand why their rent just went up again and what anyone plans to do about it. Context is the new currency.

Journalism should also stop pretending it’s above the platform game. You can hate algorithms all you want (I know I do), but they decide who sees your work. Learn them, study them, use them. That doesn’t mean chasing every viral trend. It means knowing how to title, tag, and time stories so they don’t disappear into the void. Play chess with the algorithm. Just don’t become one of its pawns.

There’s another piece missing from the puzzle: consistency. I think that’s the one my two-year-old tossed under the sofa. Most news outlets treat social media like a side hustle. One day they post a thoughtful explainer on the economy, and the next they’re sharing a meme about Taylor Swift (yes, we’ve all heard “Wood”). Nobody trusts that. It’s inauthentic. Pick a voice and stick to it. The outlets that will survive are the ones that sound the same (professional and relatable) whether they’re writing a front-page story or posting a thirty-second clip.

And maybe, just maybe, stop hiring executives who think the future of news is “pivoting to lifestyle content.” If I wanted to know how to make gluten-free muffins, I’d go to Pinterest. I would also be miserable. Give me all the gluten. News organizations exist to tell us what’s real, not how to feel. Imagine Edward R. Murrow signing off his newscasts “Goodnight and use promo code MURROW20 for 20% off your next HelloFresh box.”

I’m not done yet.

Another fix is to treat the audience like they can handle the truth. There’s a difference between simplifying and dumbing down. Good journalism does the first, TikTok does the second. You can break down complex issues without acting like you’re talking to a classroom of toddlers. No adult needs their news from Cocomelon. People crave clarity, not condescension.

Then there’s the trust problem. This is a huge one. Every false headline, every “exclusive” that turns out to be speculation, every anonymous source that feels like a friend of a friend’s cousin (who may be related to Nicki Minaj)—it all chips away at credibility. The only way to rebuild it is the old-fashioned way: earn it. Verify before you publish. Correct fast when you’re wrong. Be skeptical of everyone, including yourself. In the age of social media, admitting you are wrong has become an indicator of weakness. It’s helped produce an entire ecosystem of stupid, confident people. News has to push back against that.

Finally, the business model has to evolve.

Outrage is cheap and addictive, but it’s not sustainable. News organizations can’t depend solely on advertising revenue or billionaire vanity projects. They need subscribers, members, and donors, people who feel invested in the survival of truth. That means giving them reasons to care. Give them access, explanations, maybe even a little humility. Make paying for news feel like participating in something important, because it is.

None of this will be easy. It takes time, talent, and a willingness to experiment without turning into a circus act. But doing nothing is so much worse. Doing nothing is how you end up with people getting their worldviews from self-styled “newsfluencers” broadcasting from their bedrooms between sponsored posts for energy drinks.

If you think I sound cynical, you’re right. The average social media “news source” has the attention span of a goldfish and the accuracy of a Stormtrooper. But the solution isn’t to roll your eyes and walk away. It’s to rebuild something better before there’s nothing left to rebuild.

The irony is that the audience still wants to know what’s true. They’re just not willing to dig for it. Journalism used to do that digging for them. Somewhere along the way, it started tweeting instead.

So yes, the industry has been hollowed out, gutted, and meme-ified. But that doesn’t mean it’s finished. The next evolution of news won’t come from nostalgia or from chasing teenagers around the internet. It’ll come from finding the middle ground between rigor and reach, truth and delivery, fact and form.

The goal isn’t to “make news cool again.” It’s to make it matter again. The rest will follow.

Because eventually, people will get tired of ragebait and rumor. They’ll start to notice that every “breaking story” they see online is just a remix of something someone else already made up. When that moment comes, journalism has to be ready to remind them what the real thing looks like.

And if that means meeting them where they are, fine. Just don’t forget why you showed up in the first place, because when that moment comes, journalism better be ready to crawl out of the grave and start eating brains again.

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Kevin Perez-Allen is SVP at Signal Group in Washington, DC, where he leads national and international campaigns across healthcare, public affairs, public diplomacy, and policy, especially where the stakes are high and the messaging is tough. His work blends deep political analysis with creative storytelling, grounded in decades of experience and a lifelong allergy to performative nonsense.

Written by: Editor