YES, IT IS.
I still believe that if your aim is to change the world, journalism is a more immediate short-term weapon.— Tom Stoppard
We live in a world where the simplest concepts have become quite dicey to decipher, where nothing is what it seems, but I assure you, this is not one of those cases. My lords, I do not deign to insult your intelligence, but the convolutions and ethical ambiguity of a topic of this weight deserve a clear definition of terms. After all, how else can we accurately say who is who and what is what?
The Collins Dictionary defines activism as a doctrine or policy of taking direct action to achieve an end, especially a political or social end. Going by this definition, this simply means that activism involves more than just protests and demonstrations. Unlike what the opposition would have you believe, activism means being directly involved in cause(s) that have social impact and adopting a hands-on approach to getting the kind of change one wants to see in society.
Journalism, on the other hand, according to the Cambridge dictionary, is the work of collecting, writing, and publishing news stories and articles in newspapers and magazines or broadcasting them on the radio and television.As a profession in the fourth estate, it is important to note that journalists are ethically expected to report truthfully on happenings around that the public is hitherto unaware of. They are also obligated to facilitate popular discourse on issues that are of critical importance to society through their agenda-setting and social mobilisation functions. This means, by virtue of their discipline, journalists are expected to be vanguards of freedom of expression and other basic human rights, and hence, they are often at the forefront of advocating for these rights, even at great personal peril. If this does not make them activists, I don’t know what else will.
My lords, you know as well as I do the current state of press freedom in our so-called civilised world. It is a world where journalists have been invariably pushed into becoming activists. I mean, what else do you expect when the right to freedom of expression is so severely restricted (only existing in 15% of the world according to an article by Voice of America news), where almost every form of media is exposed to censure, and where journalists are attacked and battered at almost every turn?
We must not ignore the aspect of passion. Every individual who opts to become a journalist has their own unique objectives, but whatever these objectives are, it is this passion that fuels them on as they brave impossible odds to bring an issue to public attention. As he tells the story to the audience, his fire ignites a need for change in the hearts of his viewers, listeners, and readers, as the case may be. While neutrality is often encouraged, emotional aloofness is not, as he/she would not be able to connect with his/her audience otherwise. How else is the journalist supposed to convince his audience on a topic if he does not believe in it? Consider the case of Ken Saro-Wiwa, Maria Ressa, and Sonia Nazario. They are practical examples of the fact that good journalists are activists. They can connect with their audience on an emotional level, leaving lasting imprints on their minds.
Even the mottos and mission statements of some of the top media organisations are a further attestation to this fact. For instance, Vanguard newspapers has its motto as “towards a better life for the people,” the Washington Post’s is “democracy dies in darkness,” and the BBC’s is “nation shall speak truth unto nation.” And if those are far-fetched, we should probably come home to the Union of Campus Journalists in UI, whose motto is “freedom championed by the pen”. You see, there is a pattern here. All these mottos testify to an underlying cause: social welfarism, democracy, freedom, and liberty. And while they may not be going to the extremes like the opposition would like to paint activism efforts, it is important that these guys are inching towards their prespecified and laid-out goals. And they are using their proximity to the media to achieve it.
One argument often used to dispute the fact that journalism is activism is that the highly regarded principles of objectivity and impartiality could be ignored or compromised upon when journalists become activists, but then, that is the entire basis of my argument today, my lords. Journalists wade through the murkiness or ethical blurriness to fulfil their professional obligations. They have to be truthful, objective, and impartial, but they have to do this in ways that serve the broader interests of society. But they are not doing this for their own personal gains. They are doing it to achieve the bottom line laid out by their profession, to be watchdogs and to act in the best interests of our society. What they do is what their profession requires of them.
Let’s not forget, my lords, that we live in a world where people would only accept the narratives that suit them. For every story written, there’s always a sect claiming to be misrepresented. In this world, impartiality is a farce. So no matter how much training in neutrality these journalists obtain, they will always run afoul of the beliefs of these individuals. This is perfectly demonstrated in the 2024 Nigerian Cybercrimes Act, a law that has made citizens and reporters susceptible to harassment from the government due to its vagueness. This is also the case in countries like Syria, China, and the rest, where the governments are openly stifling expression. There are contexts where media houses are outrightly banned and journalists still work, because that is what they are supposed to do.
In conclusion, my lords, as I’ve reiterated several times in the course of this write-up, journalists surmount hurdles doing their jobs, hurdles like government censorship, attacks, bodily harm, and injuries, all in a bid to keep the government accountable, expose corruption, and protect fundamental rights of citizens. Just like any other activist around, they do it at a high risk of being intimidated and stifled and they do all these to advance the cause of liberty and democracy in our society. They don’t just report for the sake of reporting or just to earn a living; they are directly involved and actively try to bring about more positive changes to our society, like any average activist, only this time it is as their profession ethically demands of them. It is for this reason that journalism is the same as activism.
NO, IT IS NOT
No! As a proud member of the University of Ibadan’s vibrant campus press corps, constantly buzzing between lecture halls, student union meetings, and impromptu interviews, I often find myself caught in a peculiar dilemma. There’s this persistent notion, especially among our passionate student body, that journalism and activism are two sides of the same coin. “You’re a journalist, why aren’t you joining the protest against the fee hike?” or “Why haven’t you written a scathing piece demanding the VC fix this issue immediately?” are questions I frequently field. And while I deeply respect the zeal and conviction that drives activism, my answer remains steadfast: journalism, at its ethical core, is not activism. And understanding this crucial distinction is paramount, not just for us, the budding media practitioners of tomorrow, but for the very fabric of our university community and, indeed, our nation.
Let’s be clear about what journalism is. From the hallowed halls of different Departments to the bustling newsrooms of Lagos and Abuja, true journalism is about the dogged pursuit of truth. It’s about fact-finding, verification, and presentation of information to the public as impartially as possible. Our job is to hold power to account – whether it’s the university management, the Student Union, or the federal government – but we do so by illuminating the facts, not by taking sides or dictating solutions. Think of the investigative prowess of our national media during Nigeria’s transition from military rule to democracy. Publications like The Guardian and The Punch in the 1990s weren’t organising street demonstrations; they were meticulously documenting human rights abuses and the push for civilian rule, often at great personal risk. Their relentless reporting, like the coverage of the annulment of the June 12, 1993, presidential election, provided the essential public record, empowering citizens to act. Their duty was to inform, not to instigate.
Activism, on the other hand, operates from a different, though equally vital, playbook. An activist is propelled by a passionate belief in a specific cause and actively works to achieve a particular social or political outcome. Their methods include advocacy, mobilisation, and often, direct action. Here at UI, we see this played out beautifully during periods of student agitation. When the “Occupy Senate” movement took hold in 2017, protesting various welfare issues or when students voiced their displeasure over perceived arbitrary policies, those were clear acts of activism. Students marched, chanted, strategised, and presented demands.
While the campus journalists were there, pens poised and cameras flashing, documenting every moment, their role was to report on the unfolding events – the perspectives of the students, the response of the authorities, the nuances of the situation – not to join the front lines of the aluta. Similarly, the impactful #EndSARS protests of October 2020 across Nigeria were a testament to the power of citizen activism, demanding an end to police brutality. The media widely covered it, but the journalists weren’t part of the organisational structure of the protests; they were the impartial chroniclers.
The confusion, I believe, often arises because ethical journalism, by its very nature, can spark activism. When The Indy Press exposes a shoddy renovation project in Mellanby Hall, or The Law Press uncovers inconsistencies in faculty grading, the revelations can understandably ignite student outrage and calls for action. This is a natural, healthy democratic process within our academic ecosystem. However, the critical difference lies in our stance: we, the journalists, present the mirror, while the activists wield the hammer. My job, as a campus journalist, is to show you the reflection of the university’s realities, not to tell you how to smash the problem staring back.
The danger of blurring these roles is profound, especially for us on campus. When a campus journalist consciously or unconsciously adopts an activist’s hat, they risk sacrificing the very credibility that makes their reporting powerful. Suddenly, our fellow students, our lecturers, and even the university management begin to question if the information we publish is truly objective, or if it’s been skewed to fit a particular agenda. This erosion of trust is incredibly damaging. If our campus publications, our Hall and Department presses, become mere mouthpieces for a cause, how will anyone distinguish verified facts from partisan polemics? It’s like asking the referee in a heated El Clásico (our UI inter-hall football matches, of course!) to suddenly start kicking the ball for one of the teams. The game loses its fairness, and the fans – our readers – lose faith.
Consider the legacy of journalism in Nigeria. When Dele Giwa was tragically assassinated in 1986, it was not because he was a street activist; it was because his fearless investigative journalism through Newswatch magazine relentlessly pursued uncomfortable truths. His death was a grim reminder of the power of the printed word, not the placard. More recently, when students at UI organised protests over fee hikes in 2017 and 2024, the various campus presses – from The Union to individual hall press organisations – diligently reported on the protests, the negotiations with management, and the eventual outcomes. We published interviews with student leaders and university officials, captured images of the demonstrations, and analysed the policies.
We provided the platform for diverse voices to be heard, rather than lending our voice to one side, even if we personally empathised with the students’ plight. Our commitment was to accurate, balanced reporting, not to leading the charge.For us, the journalists of the University of Ibadan, the ethical imperative is crystal clear: we must remain independent. We must report without fear or favour, even when it means facing criticism from all sides. Our priority must always be accuracy, balance, and context. This means not just getting our facts right, but presenting them in a way that allows for complexity and avoids sensationalism. While our colleagues in student activism are free to champion a cause with all their might, a campus journalist’s loyalty must lie solely with the truth and the entire university community’s right to know. I often joke that a true campus journalist’s only acceptable protest sign reads, “My Deadline Was Yesterday, Get Me The Gist!” – a wry nod to our often-stressful pursuit of timely, verified facts.
In conclusion, while journalism and activism often converge around critical issues within our university and beyond, they are fundamentally distinct. Journalism informs, equips, and illuminates; activism advocates, mobilises, and pushes for specific change. Both are indispensable pillars of a thriving democracy, both on our campus and across Nigeria, but their unique strengths lie precisely in their separate, yet complementary, functions. Let us, the campus journalists, be the unwavering purveyors of facts and diverse perspectives, and let our activist peers be the passionate champions of causes. When we understand and respect these crucial roles, we strengthen both the campus press and our ability to contribute meaningfully to the betterment of the University of Ibadan and our beloved Nigeria.
CONCLUSION:
This column is about you, it presents the two sides of a case courtesy of two writers from different schools of thought. “Audi alteram partem” means hear the other side before passing your judgment. Take the gavel, make your decision and slam because you are the judge in this courtroom
