So How Do You Sleep at Night, My Little Journalist?
“So how do you sleep at night, my little journalist?
How do you fall asleep?
What do you dream of after the blood has been spilled?”
– by Arik Einstein
Ah, journalists.
Those once-proud gatekeepers of democracy.
Today?
More like gatekeepers of their own carefully curated narrative.
You sit in a climate-controlled studio, armed with an expensive microphone and a look that says “I know everything,” explaining to the public how “democracy is under threat” because someone on the right dared to speak.
Meanwhile, truth is at home.
Laughing.
Or crying.
Depends on the day.
The Collapse of a Profession: From Watchdog to Lapdog
Over the past decade, journalism did not decline.
It crashed.
In the United States, public trust in mainstream media has dropped to historic lows, hovering around the high-20% range in recent surveys.
In Europe, similar trends: large segments of the public openly distrust legacy outlets.
And in Israel?
Same story.
Just louder.
A growing share of the public sees major outlets as ideologically tilted.
Trust erodes.
And journalists respond not with introspection-
but with louder certainty.
Israeli journalism has mastered the art of omission:
Context removed.
Quotes selected.
Headlines crafted to tell one story while reality tells another.
“Objectivity”: A Sophisticated Form of Bias
The real problem is not bias.
It is belief.
They believe their bias is truth.
Inside a very specific cultural bubble, the world is simple:
One side is enlightened.
The other is dangerous.
Security concerns? “Fear-mongering.”
National identity? “Extremism.”
Traditional values? “Regression.”
And anything that does not fit the narrative-
gets reframed, minimized, or ignored.
This is not reporting.
It is storytelling with a conclusion already written.
“Senior Officials Say”
Perhaps the strongest sentence in modern journalism.
Also the weakest.
Who are these “senior officials”?
No one knows.
No one checks.
Everyone quotes.
And just like that, reality is manufactured:
Rumor → Quote → Headline → Panel → Truth
No evidence.
No names.
Just confidence.
Lots of confidence.
The Studio: Theater, Not News
News is no longer news.
It is a performance.
Panelists.
Interruptions.
Raised voices.
Everyone speaks.
No one listens.
And the viewer?
Gets drama.
Not understanding.
Because understanding requires complexity.
Outrage is easier.
From Journalism to Content
Once, a journalist delivered information.
Now, he delivers narrative.
Once, he went to the field.
Now, he goes to Twitter.
Once, he had an editor.
Now, he has an algorithm.
And the algorithm does not care about truth.
It cares about pulse.
If it excites – it rises.
If it calms – it disappears.
Social Media: The Official Undertaker
Then came social media.
It did not kill journalism.
It exposed it.
Suddenly everyone could see:
The errors.
The bias.
The rush.
The sloppiness.
And when you can access information directly-
why go through a middleman?
Answer: you don’t.
And so trust collapsed.
Once, you saw a report-and believed.
Now, you see a headline-and ask:
“Who is trying to spin me?”
That is not cynicism.
That is experience.
So How Do You Sleep at Night?
That is the real question.
How does a journalist-half commentator, half activist, half performer-
still call himself a journalist?
The answer is simple:
Just like everyone else.
With justification.
“It’s complicated.”
“There’s no choice.”
“Everyone does it.”
“The reality has changed.”
True.
Reality has changed.
Facts haven’t.
The Audience Already Voted
The public is not stupid.
Trust is dropping.
Viewers are migrating to alternative platforms-Telegram, YouTube, podcasts.
Not because they are perfect.
But because they feel less condescending.
Less filtered.
Less convinced of their own moral superiority.
Mainstream journalists no longer represent the public.
They represent their own circles.
Their own conversations.
Their own applause.
The Bottom Line
Journalism did not disappear.
It split.
There are still real journalists.
Few.
Tired.
Swimming against the current.
And then there is the majority:
Faster.
Louder.
Less precise.
Because in a world where speed beats accuracy-
truth always arrives last.
And sometimes, no one is waiting.
So yes, my dear journalist-
how do you sleep at night?
Probably just fine.
Because when the noise is loud enough,
even your conscience struggles to be heard.
And that,
more than any headline,
is the real story of the past decade.
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