Confessions of a news lover

I checked the headlines this morning, and this afternoon, and this evening, and also in between. I checked Canadian news outlets, UK news outlets, and the few remaining fact-checking and trusted US news outlets — and, no surprise, the world is still a mess. Except every time I check it's a different mess than the time before. And that’s what’s changed. 

The news cycle is now a 24/7 rollercoaster of bombardment. It's too much. The 24/7 news cycle may have originated with the advent of cable TV in the 1980s, and accelerated with the dawn of online news and mobile devices that drove demand for real-time updates and immediate access to breaking news. But something’s different now. It doesn’t seem like that long ago that we could analyse the news, assess, digest, and compress — but then it all changed — now it's obsess, repress and a whole lot of excess. 

And it’s not just some of the news, it's almost all of it. We find ourselves caught up in response to a twisted narrative that is the antithesis of freedom of speech and freedom of the press. Add to that news blocking in Canada by two digital giants, no more fact-checking on Facebook because they’ve opted for crowd-sourced news, and what could possibly go wrong there? 

This isn’t about the digital revolution or how we consume news on mobile — this is about what is being covered, what the stories are and where and who they are coming from… and it's exhausting. Is this existential threat burnout?

All things must pass. But seriously, do there have to be so many things? Welcome to the attention era 2.0 — this one thrives on chaos.

To give you some background, I am news obsessed, news beguiled, news possessed, and I always have been. I come by it honestly and earnestly having spent over 30 years in the business of news and media. It’s not that I love politics, or economics or am obsessed with tariffs or wars — I just love the news. I love the business of news; to me it's exciting, it's adrenaline and it's important. It also appeals to one of the things that has always motivated and excited me, my fear of missing out. 

I have a lifelong love of news and media. I have spent a career devoted to the news cycle and a career spent inside the machine that has the privilege and the duty to shape what people read, watch, listen to and care about. Yet despite my love of news, the making of news and respect for the people who shape the news, I have made a decision — I am rethinking the news and my relationship with it. I cannot live in chaos. 

I am opting out. Well, sort of.   

The news wasn’t always an avalanche

Not so long ago the news arrived in measured doses. A morning paper. An evening broadcast. A magazine. A radio show. Journalists were trusted voices and there were a few very trusted voices that we invited into our homes each day to analyze and present what was happening in the world. You could engage, digest, and trust.

The business of news reporting has become just that — a business. In an era dominated by social media, 24/7 cable news networks, and online outlets, the emphasis has shifted from delivering reliable, fact-checked information to the need for speed, clickbait, and sensationalism.

News is no longer something we consume; it consumes us. 

When mixed with the news chaos that is the actual news, the result is a volatile, often confusing, and misleading media environment. News is no longer something we consume; it consumes us.

Welcome to the wild west of news

I spent my career shaping the strategy behind some of Canada’s most storied media brands. The Financial Post, National Post, Global TV, Maclean’s, Canadian Business, Chatelaine and Toronto Life to name a few — print, digital, social media and television. I had a front-row seat to the evolution of the media. I sat in boardrooms discussing how to capture attention, how to keep readers engaged, how to keep subscribers, how to engage advertisers, brand standards and ethics, and how to stay relevant in a landscape that changes by the hour.

how do we cut through the clutter and the noise when there is simply too much of it?

The business of news is the business of attention. Every strategy session revolved around it. What will make people take notice? What will make them click? What will make them care? And, increasingly, how do we cut through the clutter and the noise when there is simply too much of it?

Donald Trump has had a stranglehold on that attention for a long time. A maestro of news-jacking with his every whim, outrageous utterance, legal battle, and scandal engineered to dominate the media conversation. His unorthodox style, brash rhetoric, and unpredictable behaviour created a media frenzy that captivated the nation and dominated headlines for years. 

Now, he is back, and the basic playbook remains unchanged, except this time it's a lot louder - and faster. Policy by tweet, grudges turned into government action, a cabinet assembled like a reality show cast — and that’s a typical day before breakfast. It's not just the cycle of news, it's the 24/7 cycle of manufactured fake-news breaking news, and wow — ignorance is a force. The media scrambles to keep up, to cover every outburst, every legal battle, and every diplomatic incident. As I said earlier, welcome to the attention era 2.0 — and it thrives on chaos.

Stop the train I want to get off

So I have decided to stop. Not entirely — I am not going off the grid — but I have declared my independence from the relentless churn and the relentless chaos. I have taken back my agency. No more notifications. No more doom scrolling before bed. No more tracking each and every development as an emergency.

I find myself using the system that I used with an erratic former boss — I wait until I hear it stated three times before I pay attention

My news now arrives through a carefully curated personal system:

• A partner who summarizes the must-knows and helps me to refocus on the other news (I mean did you know there was a discovery of an Egyptian Pharaoh's tomb in February? Thutmose II’s tomb was discovered — the first pharaoh’s tomb found in 100 years, the last being Tutankhamun’s in 1922)
• A wait-and-see approach to the news by waiting to see how the journalists and news outlets that I know and trust respond
• What is said in the morning can completely change by the afternoon, so I find myself using the system that I used with an erratic former boss — I wait until I hear it stated three times before I pay attention
• A carefully rationed morning news scan, offset by an immediate dose of focusing on what’s on that day and planning what’s for dinner 

And the results?

• I am far less angry while grocery shopping for Canadian goods
• I am controlling my urge to pre-judge anyone who drives a Tesla (I admit, this one still needs work, apparently I am a lot more judgemental than I thought) 
• My focus is restored (in my case this means I check the news two to three times a day instead of 8 or 9 — baby steps!)
• The urge to flee society and start a lavender farm has subsided (for now, I really like lavender)

The world, it turns out, continues. Crises unfold. Elections happen. And my absence from the minute-by-minute churn has not altered the course of history. 

While I am fascinated by the kind of person who can step back and let the world turn without compulsively checking the angle of its axis, the truth is that I will be watching.

The plot twist: No news is not good news

So, if we’re being honest, I have not really left. Not entirely. And not forever. I don’t want to — there are too many great stories out there.

While I am fascinated by the kind of person who can step back and let the world turn without compulsively checking the angle of its axis, the truth is that I will be watching. I am watching,  but now I am consciously watching what I want to watch. I’m too curious not to, and it's what I love. I am not going to let the distraction of the chaos to the south ruin my love of media. 

Maybe it is the strategist in me. Maybe it is the muscle memory of all those years shaping what lands on a page, a screen, a front cover. Maybe it’s just the quiet and constant yearning to know what is happening and my fear of missing out, even when it makes no difference at all.

I will resist the news cycle’s gravitational pull, the attention era 2.0 and all its drama. I will protect my love of media and I will engage on my own terms.

The news does not need me. But I need the news and I always will, and I’m not giving that up.