Journalists are prone to a bouts of tiresome nostalgia. Stick a handful of us round a table, add a couple of bottles, and the war stories will flow. Having once been one of the new generation (I’m 55, now, and started this nonsense 37 years ago) I know how exhausting encounters with aged hacks can be. Fortunately, it is possible to resist becoming that old know-it-all.
The truth as I see it is that young journalists today work under levels of pressure that those of my generation never did. Newsrooms have been hollowed out, piling additional stress on an ever-decreasing number of reporters, many of whom are lucky to have time to get out of the office to follow up a lead. While I’m generalising, let me add that I detect, among younger hacks, more thoughtfulness about the subjects and the people they write about than was ever displayed when I started out.
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