Bruce Shapiro is one of the world’s leading voices in journalism and trauma. As executive director of the Global Center for Journalism and Trauma and for decades head of Columbia University’s Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma, he has been instrumental in shaping a new ethical and professional approach for journalists covering crises, violence and human suffering. Following his recent keynote address at the iMEdD Forum, Shapiro shares with TO VIMA his thoughts on journalism burnout, the role of journalism as an “act of nonviolent resistance” and the challenges posed by artificial intelligence.

You have worked both as a reporter and as the head of institutions like the Dart Center and now the Global Center for Journalism & Trauma. What drew you into focusing on the intersection of journalism and trauma?

When I started out in local reporting I was spending a lot of time covering trauma without thinking about it. The very first story I wrote was about the death of a young woman from a gas leak in her apartment. I covered murder cases, interviewed Vietnam veterans and Holocaust survivors, and reported on a fatal bridge collapse. It was all just part of the job.

That changed for me in 1994. I’d been covering national criminal justice policy when – completely randomly – I was one of seven people badly injured in a mass stabbing by a mentally ill man, in a coffee shop a short walk from my home. It was a terrifying incident, and it got a lot of press attention. In an instant I went from the reporter covering crime, to a crime victim being reported on. That started me thinking about how journalists could do a better job of covering survivors of violence, and in particular what we need to understand about the psychology of trauma. You wouldn’t send a reporter to cover a football match who doesn’t know the rules, yet we routinely report on people who’ve been through the worst experiences with no understanding of trauma.

Eventually I realized I had other motivations too. My grandparents were Jewish refugees from the old Russian empire. They fled antisemitic pogroms early in the 20th century – violence stirred up by Czarist Russian newspapers. So I’ve thought a lot about toxic role bad journalism can play as a transmission belt for bigotry and scapegoating, as well as the positive role, the unique power of great reporting to lay out accountability for abuses of power and validate the experiences of otherwise invisible or stigmatized survivors.

In your keynote, you described journalists as “witnessing professionals.” Could you explain what this means and why it is such a powerful way to understand the role of journalism today?

The phrase “witnessing professionals” was coined by the pioneering American psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton, who died a couple of weeks ago at age 99. Lifton interviewed Hiroshima survivors, Vietnam war veterans, and many other victims and perpetrators. He came to feel that bearing witness for survivors of violence means more than just listening, regurgitating their words and collecting a paycheck. There’s an ethical obligation to become an insistent truth-teller about violence and abuses of power; to challenge the daily lies and what he called the “malignant normality” which makes genocide, gender violence, climate denial and other human rights abuses possible.

I think that describes the job of reporting pretty well!

As reporters we’re sometimes on the scene of violent or traumatic events, but even when we are not, most reporters sooner or later spend a lot of time listening to the stories of people who’ve been through hell. Being “witnessing professionals” means a kind of trauma reporting that isn’t just extracting a few quotes or pictures. It’s about the deep ethical responsibility to convey survivors’ stories accurately and with dignity, and to relentlessly pursue accountability for abuses. It’s also about standing up for the safety and well-being of the journalist community itself, at a time when so many colleagues worldwide are under threat.

You warned that burnout is not simply exhaustion but an “occupational injury.” How does burnout affect journalism’s ability to serve democracy and the public?

Journalism is by definition a high-stress profession. This work attracts people who are good at handling deadlines, complex stories, fast-moving news cycles. We thrive on it. But too much stress at too high a level for too long a time can overload the human brain. When that happens to reporters, they can lose focus, motivation, sense of meaning and purpose – and their reporting will suffer. In the worst cases of burnout they will simply stop being able to report or finish a story. They are effectively silenced, and the public is deprived of their reporting. In my talk I used the phrase “silent censorship.” It’s a crucial press freedom issue.

How should newsroom leaders and editors be trained differently to better protect and strengthen their teams’ resilience?

Given the pressures and threats facing today’s journalists, it’s crucial that newsroom executives, editors and other managers get some baseline understanding of how stress and trauma affect their teams – something we actually know a lot about, thanks to two decades of research around the world. They need to take the psychological well-being of the newsroom into account in planning – psychological safety on a par with physical safety and digital protection. There are basic strategies for handling trauma-facing reporting, some particular to journalism and some adapted from other frontline professions like firefighters and the military. Editors need to know about those strategies, and about the important role of peer support and teamwork.

You have also described journalism as a form of nonviolent civil resistance in times of disinformation and “malignant normality.” How can journalists embrace that role?

Well, we’ve got that job whether we like it or not! Just ask Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin or Elon Musk who all consider journalists Enemies of the People.

Why? Because autocrats and oligarchs all understand that journalism at its best is about shifting power – the power to define reality. Journalism shifts meaning-making power away from oligarchs and technocrats, to news consumers with information and narratives that inform democratic decision making, and which engage intellect and compassion rather than atavism and violent resentment. That, if you think about it, is a kind of wild democratic faith.

But at the same time, in order to succeed, journalism depends on the trust of news consumers – and that means rigorous adherence to ethics and standards, including factuality and independence among others.

What new challenges — from AI to disinformation to authoritarian pressures — do you believe will most test journalists’ resilience in the years ahead?

I am lousy at the prophecy business. Clearly in the U.S., capitulation to unlawful demands from the Trump administration is already roiling media corporations just as it has universities. Worldwide AI will bring big disruptions. But  I think that in the end, technology is less worrying  than the human infrastructure of the news industry. Maintaining journalists’ sense of mission, standards and well-being amid continual attacks, downward economic pressures and a violent political climate will be an essential challenge in the next couple of years.