There’s a strange new job on the internet: the journalist who never actually calls themselves one. No newsroom, no masthead, no press pass – just a Substack, a camera roll of infographics, and a mildly concerning relationship with Canva.

You’ve seen them. They’re doing journalism – but minus the newspaper, the salary, and the safety net.

Reading “Journalism Minus the ‘Journalist’” got me wondering: What builds trust in a media landscape that’s increasingly person-to-person – especially in places where press freedom is... more of a dare than a right?

Trust and Press Freedom: Not Always Besties

It’s tempting to think that press freedom and public trust go hand in hand. But like most good love stories, it’s complicated.

You can have strong press protections and cratering trust (hi, U.S.), or tightly restricted media and high trust in the illusion of news (hi, Singapore). Some rising nations outperform expectations entirely – like Namibia (22nd on the 2024 RSF Index), Costa Rica (6th), and Samoa (19th) – by maintaining active independent media and constitutional protections.

Meanwhile, the U.K. and U.S. – both democracies with long journalistic traditions – have seen trust erode under political polarization, tabloidization, and a few decades of “who owns the narrative?”

Which means trust isn’t just about legality. It’s about relationship. Proximity. Transparency. Consistency. You don’t need a printing press to build those – you need presence.

The Creator Era: Journalism by Any Other Name

Enter the creator-journalist. Or, as many prefer to call themselves, “storyteller,” “explainer,” or “person on the internet who does a lot of research so you don’t have to.”

Many dodge the J-word entirely. And for good reason:

• It invites scrutiny – from states, trolls, and legacy media alike.

• It comes with baggage: assumptions about neutrality and objectivity that don’t match the direct, often subjective style of creator-led media.

• And in countries such as Morocco, it can carry real legal risk.

I’ve run into this myself. My project, Borders Unbound, is rooted in cultural storytelling. It’s lawful, transparent, and grounded in care. But calling it journalism could put sources at risk – and it wouldn’t even be accurate given the legal definition of a journalist in Morocco’s penal code.

The upside of skipping the label? Flexibility. Less heat. More accessibility for readers. The downside? Fewer protections. Less institutional credibility. And a harder time being taken seriously in spaces still calibrated to legacy norms.

The cost-benefit equation shifts depending on where you are – and who’s watching.

Trust Needs Structure – and Permission

We like to imagine trust as personal: if you’re honest and clear, people will believe you. And maybe they will – if you’re the right person, saying the right thing, in the right context.

But trust doesn’t just live between writer and reader. It lives in systems – legal, cultural, platform-based. And those systems don’t treat all voices, or all truths, the same way.

Press freedom is about the right to speak. Trust is about the permission to be believed. And that permission is uneven.

In the U.S., some independent journalists – especially those who resemble traditional authority figures – can earn credibility by being transparent and data-driven. Others – particularly those who are younger, more radical, or marginalized – get labeled biased before they’ve written a word.

In Morocco, institutional media may be viewed with skepticism, seen as too close to power. But independent voices aren’t automatically protected or believed either. They may be trusted locally and targeted legally – precisely because they’re resonating.

And even when creators do earn audience trust, that trust can’t shield them from structural forces. Because individual trust can’t outpace institutional mistrust forever.

So What Are We Building?

Legacy institutions offered scaffolding: editorial oversight, legal teams, accountability mechanisms, insulation from political pressure. Most creators operate with none of that. No safety net. No backup. No one to call when the takedown notice comes.

That’s the tradeoff. Creator-led journalism can reach people legacy media never could – but the price is bearing all the risk alone.

Which raises a bigger question: If journalism is now a person-to-person relationship, what kind of collective infrastructure are we building to support it?

Could we create shared legal defense funds? Distributed editorial collectives? Platform-based press credentials? Global mutual aid for storytellers in risky places?

Because as exciting as this shift is, it won’t be sustainable if we rely on trust alone – especially when trust itself is shaped by identity, access, and who’s allowed to speak without punishment.

Final Thought

Maybe the real tension isn’t “journalism vs. creators.” It’s trust as performance vs. trust as infrastructure. Being good at looking credible versus being protected when it counts.

And in that space – in the absence of structure, and the unevenness of belief – the future of the press is quietly, dangerously forming.

—
Daniela
Builder of small bridges, watcher of large gaps