Why I won’t help save the Guardian

Jonathan Irons
5 min readJul 18, 2020
Photo by Kevin Grieve on Unsplash

Reading the stories about the financial danger the Guardian is in right now (summer 2020) is truly saddening. I genuinely found myself in two minds about whether to support them, to champion them and defend them.

It’s easy to jump on them for their record on Corbyn — justifiably so. And it’s equally easy to say “Ah, but the Guardian is so much more, and they get a lot of things right”.

I get that. And I get that if you want to have good quality journalism, you have to pay for it.

But at the same time, in the past years I have become more and more enamoured and convinced with the concept of Constructive Journalism. And the Guardian does not practice Constructive Journalism. They basically admit as much, as this piece from their former news editor admits.

I discussed this on my blog back in 2018, and I cannot see that anything has changed.

I also became heavily critical of many forms of journalism, culminating in my brilliant essay (Achtung irony!) It’s the journalists, stupid!

I found that the less breaking news I read, the better I understood the world around me, and the more relaxed and creative I felt. I ended up by concluding that No news is good news.

These thoughts are much more eloquently summarised in Jodie Jackson’s excellent book You Are What You Read. I warmly recommend it.

And I signed up to The Correspondent. Since they started less than a year ago, they have laid down an impressive and magnificent record of original, thoughtful, deep, varying and encouraging journalism. This is how it should be done.

Join The Correspondent. Not to “support their work”. Not to “fund great journalism”. No, they’re not a charity. Join them because you will be a more informed human being for it. Join them now. It’s pay-what-you-want, and they won’t share your personal details with scores and scores of third-party advertising companies, unlike the Guardian.

But but, you shout “Jonathan, how will you stay informed about the world?”. Well here’s the thing, you’re not as informed as you think you are.

Take the Gapminder Global Facts test and the Perils of Perception test, then post your results in the comments below. See how informed you really are.

I just dug out the letter I wrote to the Guardian back in 2018. I stand by every word. In fact, even more so than then. Take tracking for example. This is the Guardian’s published attitude towards your personal data:

They currently share what you read — whether on climate change, suicide, gender identity, fascism or cars — with 68 third party companies.

That’s not for me I’m afraid.

Here’s my goodbye letter from 2018:

Hello friends,

so this is goodbye. I’m leaving. It’s not you, it’s me. Well, actually, it is you. And journalism in general. Sorry about that.

I’ve been reading and paying for the Guardian for 28 years, and it’s over.

You won’t care. But it’s sad really. Another subscriber gone after such a long time. Another homeopathically small nail in your coffin. But if you did care, I wouldn’t be going. See?

You’re obsessed with journalistic clichés (“it can be revealed”), by everything Westminster, by political-centric headlining (e.g. Sturgeon’s reaction to Glasgow fire), all the “outcries” (read: Twitterstorm), the “outrage over”, the relentless, incessant tracking and sharing of my information with advertising companies (37 different trackers currently, yes, 37) whilst bashing Facebook (oh the irony), the short-lived “Keep it in the Ground” campaign next to car adverts (sorry, “reviews”) (I see the cars stayed, long since the campaign faded away — wish I’d been wrong about that), the utter, utter spectacular and embarrassing failure to make a case against Brexit, the reporting of six US websites taking themselves offline when the GDPR came into effect (instead of celebrating the fact), all the Trump tweets (as I write), the fact that you still, in 2018, don’t do social media (you just share links to your headlines), and so much more.

But the most important, serious, dramatic reason is this:

The picture you present of the world is wrong. You present a world of conflict, scandal, corruption, hate, danger and fear. And that’s not the reality. You give far too much space to adversarial commentary, instead of focussing on issues that affect real people in their daily lives.

The world is getting better. But you’d be hard pressed to know that from reading the Guardian. Look at yesterday’s headlines:

  • Donald Trump US president says Germans ‘turning against their leadership’ over immigration
  • Live May refuses to back Hunt’s call for medicinal cannabis law change
  • Live World Cup 2018: Belgium v Panama
  • Brexit UK to unveil details of plans for EU citizens who wish to remain
  • Upskirting Government confirms plan to introduce ban
  • Grenfell Tower inquiry Fire safety rules rely solely on staying put, panel hears
  • Parsons Green attack Anti-terror panel discussed bomber’s case before attack
  • Leave those kids alone Helicopter parenting linked to behavioural problems
  • Loughborough Junction Three people killed by train in south London
  • John Leslie Ex-Blue Peter presenter denies groping woman on hen night
  • Airspace ‘meltdown’ French air traffic control ‘causes third of Europe’s flight delays’

You don’t need me to tell you what the Ipsos Perils of Perception poll shows, again and again. After all, you did report it. So why don’t you act on it?

Nobody cares about the Panama Papers. Admit it. Or why did we have the Paradise Papers (or was it the other way round?).

So that’s it.

I’m 46 years old, married, together my wife and I earn about [redacted] a year, have no kids and no car. We currently subscribe to three newspapers, down from four last year. We should be a sitting duck for you, but you’re not even interested.

And I simply can’t take it any more. You may find the above amusing, sarcastic, polemic, pedantic, but I’m genuinely sad about this.

The less news I read, the happier I am. And that’s not right, is it?

Good luck (I mean that sincerely). I hope the trust money lasts.

Turns out it didn’t.

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