What Students and Early-career Journalists See Ahead for the News Industry

Oct 14, 2026 | Industry | 0 comments

By Jim Boren

Every day, I have the privilege of seeing the next generation of journalists up close—in my classes at Fresno State and through the journalism organizations I’m fortunate to serve. Their curiosity, talent, and determination give me enormous hope for the future of journalism.

What concerns me is not the young people who want to become journalists. It is the business model that too often makes it difficult for them to find a place in the profession and for local journalism to thrive.

If I could make a couple of wishes for the future, they would be simple: invest more in local journalism and create more opportunities for the young journalists coming up behind us.

Because when I look at these students, I don’t see a profession in decline. I see a profession with a new generation ready to carry it forward. They have the talent, the passion, and the belief that journalism matters. We just need to make sure they have the opportunity to prove it.

That is where I find my hope, and why I believe the future of journalism is still ours to build.

Recently, I was in Phoenix for a board meeting of Journalism Funding Partners, an organization that raises money to support local newsrooms around the country. Our work is important, and I’m proud of what we’ve been able to accomplish. But as valuable as that work is, it cannot replace the newsrooms that have closed or shrunk over the past decade.

That reality is sobering, but it also reminds me of what is possible when we choose to invest in local journalism.

Every day, I see young people who are eager to do this work. I see their talent, their curiosity, and their belief in the power of journalism to strengthen their communities. They give me hope.

What we need now is to match their energy with opportunity: to invest in local newsrooms, to create pathways for the next generation, and to make sure talented young journalists have places to go and communities that need their work.

The future of journalism isn’t going to take care of itself. But I believe it is still ours to build, and there is a generation ready to build it long after my time in the business has passed.

One of our initiatives at JFP is supporting the Chips Quinn Reporters Fellowship, which gives early-career journalists something they need so much at the beginning of their careers: a chance to grow.

The fellowship provides young journalists with mentorship, support, and a stipend that allows them to pursue meaningful work while building their skills and professional networks. It is an investment not only in these individual journalists, but in the future of local journalism itself.

Programs like this remind me that while the challenges facing journalism are real, so are the possibilities. When we give talented young journalists the resources, guidance, and opportunity to succeed, we are helping ensure that the future of journalism remains strong.

As these young journalists shared their work with our board, which met at the Cronkite School of Journalism at Arizona State, I was struck by their enthusiasm, their talent, and their belief in the importance of what they are doing.

I saw something that is easy to lose sight of when we talk about the challenges facing journalism: Hope.

Their excitement was contagious. They reminded me that the future of journalism is not simply about the newsrooms we have lost or the business models that are struggling. It is also about the people coming into this profession who are eager to tell important stories, serve their communities, and make a difference.

Watching them, I left that meeting more convinced than ever that investing in the next generation will make a difference. As I listened to these young journalists, I saw a little of myself 50 years ago. I thought about the many colleagues I had when I entered the business and the remarkable era of newspapers we were fortunate enough to experience.

It was a time when newspapers had hundreds of reporters and editors, along with the support staff needed to help them do their jobs. There were thriving newsrooms, strong newspapers, and abundant opportunities for young journalists to learn their craft and build a career.

We didn’t know how good we had it.

But then Big Tech arrived and blew up the business model.

We had taken that abundance for granted because we assumed it would always be there. We couldn’t imagine that many of those newsrooms would one day shrink dramatically, or disappear altogether.

I don’t dwell on that past because I somehow think we can bring it back. We can’t. I think about it because it reminds me of what journalism can be when communities decide it is worth investing in.

And that is the opportunity in front of us today: to take what was best about the journalism we inherited and find new ways to build it for the generation coming next.

Today, the landscape is very different. But sitting in that room on the fourth floor of a building dedicated to journalism and listening to these young journalists talk about their work, I was reminded that what made journalism special then is still alive today: the curiosity, the commitment to communities, and the desire to tell stories that matter.

That gives me hope. Perhaps our responsibility now is to make sure this next generation has the opportunities that so many of us were fortunate enough to have.

It helped that we were meeting at the Cronkite School of Journalism at Arizona State, a place where the traditions of journalism meet innovation. It is filled with smart, creative people who are thinking hard about the challenges facing the news business—and, more importantly, about how we can meet those challenges.

There was something fitting about being there. I was thinking about the journalism of 50 years ago, when newspapers were thriving, while sitting in a place where people are working to imagine what journalism can become a half-century from now.

That is the mission that matters today: not trying to recreate the past but taking the best of what we learned from it and using it to build something stronger for the future.

And looking around that room at the young journalists we are supporting, I felt that future was not only possible. I could see it.

Journalism students seemed to be everywhere at the Cronkite School. Some were practicing their video and interviewing skills, moving through the halls and sidewalks with cameras and microphones, learning the craft by doing it.

As I was about to enter the building for the board meeting, one of the journalism students walked up to me and asked if I would sit for an interview. Purely random. He just picked ne out of the crowd.

“Sure,” I said.

He explained that it was just practice. He and fellow students wanted to make sure they had the sound right, that my face was properly in the frame, and that they were getting all the technical details they would need to become working video journalists.

Of course I said yes.

And as I sat there, I realized this was part of the reason I’m still doing this, long after most of my contemporaries have retired. I still get energized by young journalists who are learning, experimenting and figuring out how to tell stories.

Fifty years into this profession, I’m still learning from them—and, I hope, finding ways to help them along the way.

That random interview was a small moment, but it reminded me why the future of journalism is worth fighting for.

And as I sat for the interview, I thought about how wonderfully full-circle the moment was. I had come to Arizona to talk about journalism and the importance of supporting its future, and here was a journalism student at random asking me to help them learn how to do the very work we were there to support.

Fifty years ago, I was the young journalist learning the craft. Now, I was the interview subject helping a new generation learn theirs.

It was a small moment, but it captured for me why I remain so hopeful about journalism. The tools may change. The business model may change. The way people consume news may change. But the desire to ask questions, tell stories and connect with people is still very much alive.

This article was originally published on Jim Boren’s Newsroom Notebook, his Substack that shares a behind-the-scenes journey into journalism and its future.

Jim Boren is a veteran news reporter and editor who serves as the executive director of the Institute for Media and Public Trust at Fresno State. In that role, he works to strengthen public understanding of journalism’s role in democracy and the importance of media trust.

He also teaches journalism at Fresno State, mentoring future reporters and editors, and consults with both established news organizations and start-up outlets on newsroom leadership and innovation. Jim serves on several regional and national journalism boards and has twice been a juror for the Pulitzer Prizes.

Before joining Fresno State, he spent decades in the news industry, rising to executive editor of The Fresno Bee. He has also worked as a national political reporter, covering six national political conventions.