Image made by Claude
Put yourself in the shoes of a young Pakistani reporter. A bright one. A handsome one, if we're being honest. You're in the newsroom during a heightened moment of conflict between the country you were born in (the US) and the country your parents are from.
You're in the editing meeting, going over your piece, when you're surprised to see the line your editor cuts. A single line that humanizes a Pakistani man killed in an airstrike. Just that he was a father. A carpenter. You push back. Your team — people who have reported from the region for decades but never truly understood it the way you do, responds in unison. "You're biased.”
You're damn right I am. But so are you.
Reader, there is no such thing as being unbiased.
Neutral or objective? Sure. And that's worth chasing. But this chase is a process, not a personality trait. It's like the scientific method. You don't just declare yourself scientific. You show your work.
And that's exactly the problem with the word "unbiased."
I've watched outlets, journalists, and creators wear it like a badge. Based on my experience with a Gen-Z audience, it misguides how they think about trust in journalism because it places the journalist in a position of authority above the audience. Above the community you're covering. It makes audiences believe that "unbiased" journalism is the only correct form of journalism, and as they scroll through their feeds, whoever they already agree with becomes their "unbiased source."