When Journalism Can No Longer Afford Its Own Independence

Economic collapse has become a central press freedom threat, with the 2025 World Press Freedom Index’s economic indicator at its lowest point on record, a majority of the world’s population living in countries rated “very serious” for press freedom, nearly 40 percent of U.S. local newspapers gone in two decades, and at least one hundred additional U.S. papers closing in a single year as tens of thousands of newsroom jobs vanish. Layoffs, ownership concentration, politicized public advertising, and economic retaliation in places such as the United States, Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank push outlets toward patrons and away from high-risk reporting, while shrinking budgets leave journalists, especially freelancers, working in dangerous environments without legal, digital, or physical protection. UNESCO’s finding of a global decline in freedom of expression and a 63 percent rise in self-censorship captures the result: as independent newsrooms lose the ability to fund rigorous reporting, news deserts expand, unvetted digital content fills the gap, and press freedom contracts not through formal bans, but because journalism can no longer afford its own independence.

When newsrooms lose money, they lose leverage. The 2025 World Press Freedom Index now classifies the global state of press freedom as “difficult,” with its economic indicator at the lowest point in the Index’s history and over half of the world’s population living in countries where press freedom is deemed “very serious.” In the United States, Northwestern’s 2025 State of Local News report finds that nearly 40 percent of local newspapers have disappeared over two decades, leaving roughly 50 million people in counties with either no local outlet or a single remaining source struggling to survive. Economic collapse has become a story of press freedom in its own right, one that determines which journalists can continue working and whether anyone is left to cover a town, a beat, or a war with genuine independence.

When newsrooms shrink, safety and independence both erode. Fewer editors mean fewer checks before high-risk stories are published. Fewer photographers and producers mean fewer eyes on the ground in places where it is dangerous to be seen holding a camera. Fewer in-house lawyers mean higher vulnerability to legal threats, SLAPP suits, and pressure from powerful subjects. The Reporters Without Borders (RSF) 2025 World Press Freedom Index identifies economic fragility as one of the main drivers of the decline in press freedom worldwide and notes that its economic indicator has fallen to the lowest level recorded by the Index. That indicator tracks ownership concentration, dependence on advertisers and financial backers, and the allocation of public aid to media. These forces largely determine whether independent outlets can survive at all or must trade autonomy for patronage.

The pattern is visible in newsroom budgets as much as in press freedom scores. The Reuters Institute’s 2024 Digital News Report describes, country by country, how layoffs, closures, and cost-cutting have become routine. In the United States, hundreds of journalists lost their jobs in the first weeks of 2024 at major legacy and digital outlets alike, including CNN, the Los Angeles Times, NBC News, ABC News, Vox, and Time. By the end of 2024, industry tallies counted many thousands of media jobs cut across television, print, digital news, and streaming, with another wave in 2025 driven by consolidation and restructuring. Digital-native brands that once symbolized the future of online journalism, such as Vice, have shed large portions of their staff or ceased publishing on their original sites altogether. These are not isolated business failures. They are part of a structural contraction that reduces the number of independent newsrooms capable of funding original reporting.

Economic stress shapes what is covered as much as the number of people employed. Investigative projects that demand months of reporting and legal review are the first to be cut when payroll is at risk. Newsrooms lean toward faster, cheaper formats that can be produced from desks and press releases. Reliance on freelancers is increasing, and with it, the number of people reporting from dangerous places without health insurance, hostile-environment training, legal support, or a union. In many countries, shrinking advertising markets and weak subscription revenues push outlets toward owners with strong political or corporate interests. Public advertising and subsidies are often distributed in opaque and partisan ways. Friendly outlets receive contracts. Critical outlets are sidelined. Over time, such a funding environment encourages self-censorship and aligns coverage with the priorities of those who control the funds.

The United States illustrates how economic fragility and democratic risk intersect. Local newspapers and regional broadcasters have closed or merged across vast areas, creating news deserts where there is no dedicated reporter at city hall, the school board, or the sheriff’s office. RSF’s regional analysis for the Americas notes that the economic situation for the media has deteriorated in most countries in the region and links this decline to increased disinformation and political pressure. In the United States, that translates into communities where national stories still reach people via cable and platforms, while local corruption, extremist organizing, and policy changes go largely unreported because the relevant newsroom no longer exists. A smaller number of national outlets remain, but they cannot replace thousands of lost local eyes and ears, and economic pressure still shapes their risk calculations.

Economic fragility also operates inside Israel and in conflict zones connected to it. In Israel’s small media market, the loss of public advertising and government contracts can represent a severe financial blow. When authorities order boycotts of critical outlets or channel state advertising toward friendly ones, they use economic pressure to reward compliance and punish dissent without passing new censorship statutes. In Gaza and parts of the West Bank, newsrooms, transmitters, and basic communications infrastructure have been repeatedly damaged or destroyed, while blockade conditions and funding shortages leave surviving outlets struggling to function. In those environments, economic collapse is almost indistinguishable from enforced silence.

Across all of these settings, the link to safety is direct. Fewer staff mean more solo assignments and less backup in the field. Tight budgets mean less money for protective gear, digital security support, and legal advice when trouble appears. Journalists are asked to take the same risks with less support, or to forgo the riskiest stories altogether. The result is a feedback loop. As economic conditions worsen, coverage becomes thinner, more reliant on official narratives, and more susceptible to external influence. Press freedom does not only fall when governments outlaw critical reporting. It falls when the financial foundations of independent journalism are allowed to crumble, and when survival becomes the primary constraint on what the press can afford to say.

Across this landscape, economic pressure is not a backdrop; it is a driver of silence. UNESCO’s latest World Trends report documents a 10 percent global decline in freedom of expression since 2012 and a 63 percent rise in journalistic self-censorship, trends it links to political pressure and deteriorating media viability. In the United States alone, recent tallies show over one hundred newspapers closing in a single year and tens of thousands of newsroom jobs gone since 2005, while digital platforms and social media influencers, two-thirds of whom say they do not systematically fact-check their content, step into the vacuum. When independent outlets cannot pay staff, lawyers, or insurance premiums, they cannot sustain the kind of reporting that holds governments, police, and corporate interests accountable. What replaces them is a patchwork of branded content, partisan channels, and unvetted commentary. Press freedom does not always fall with a raid or a law; it falls when the business of rigorous reporting becomes impossible to sustain, and when the most reliable voices are the first ones priced out of the conversation.