An uncomfortable silence is felt in the room. I look across from me, behind me and anywhere at all for a hand raised. They are sparse, randomly plotted throughout the auditorium like stars in a vacant sky. 

The professor, who has spent more years in journalism than many of his students have been alive, hides a pang of disappointment. He had just asked the class a fairly simple question: “How many of you regularly read a printed publication?”

The moment, its silence and the looks of guilty confusion on many students seem to be a slap in the face of a man who has been teaching journalism for decades. It’s a reflection of a larger crisis ingrained in a familiar refrain: No one reads the news anymore. It’s a moment that almost seems to scream what many are quick to conclude — the newsroom is dying, and you don’t seem to care. 

But is it really that simple? Can this so-called “death of the newsroom” be chalked up to Generation Z’s supposed apathy and constant distraction? Or is a deeper sense of nuance required to understand why newsrooms seem to be disappearing from public consciousness? 

We live in a world where you have an entire universe of information at the tip of your fingers. Every swipe is an invitation to learn more about the world around you, every click a catapult to share stories that matter. But there is a problem: Only so much information can dominate the digital public sphere, and stories that gain attention are sensationalized and constantly in flux, often lacking the context needed to foster actual understanding. 

When stories of societal importance are mixed in with mindless entertainment, the urgency needed to confront these issues disappears. This is how media is constructed now, contributing to the narrative that the regular student doesn’t care about what is happening around them.

It’s an institutional issue and creates the distance that is often misconstrued as apathy. Students neglect to read the news because they purely see it as an interchangeable stream of information, not a pillar of their community that is meant to introduce accountability and civic engagement. 

Student newsrooms, constrained by both financial pressures and institutional oversight, often adapt by producing coverage that feels guarded. Instead of confronting social change, stories feel one-dimensional, sacrificing deeper engagement for safety. 

It’s easy to document events and state the facts. What’s more difficult is weaving these facts into a story that matters and has something to say. The choice to bind stories with emotional value not only allows students to engage with the world around them, it also gives them a reason to care about the world they inhabit. When the foundation of a story’s significance is neglected, a student’s connection to a piece becomes artificial, and emotional stakes are forgotten. 

While these stakes feel minor, they form the foundation of a student newspaper’s role as connective tissue within a campus community. At a university as fragmented and large as USC, student journalism unites students regardless of background, major or personal belief, simply by addressing shared experiences and fundamental needs that come with being a student. 

Without student journalism, a university can feel isolated and polarized, which is a detriment to what a university is meant to be: a space for connection predicated on a shared culture.

When student journalism is able to forge unity through relevance, its value is truly seen in a community such as USC. But when students don’t pay attention, the newsroom is forced to adhere to metrics of convenience and surface-level engagement. 

When the true importance of a story becomes an afterthought, the function of a newsroom becomes indistinguishable from other mediums, losing its edge and benefits as a form of storytelling and social commentary. 

The newsroom isn’t dying. To say something is dying is to admit that its fate is inevitable. It says that sustaining effort is a waste for something that is about to fade away. That is irresponsible, and it’s an overly simplistic conclusion that doesn’t do justice to the history and importance that journalism has. 

When I was younger, a newspaper represented a guardian of truth, the last line of defense for democracy and freedom. I sincerely believe journalism still is those things, but it must evolve to fit alongside the society it serves, not lag behind. 

This phenomenon that student journalism is vanishing from public concern is not meant to invite the question of why students don’t care. It is instead an invitation to explore how a newsroom can make them care in the first place.