As of writing, the trending stories that currently flood social media platforms are the Comelec-janitor-turned-lawyer; Gina Lopez’s sacking and her subsequent singing of “I Believe I Can Fly”; and yet another episode of Tito Sotto and his misogynistic mouth.

In a matter of days, even hours, the ever so fickle spotlight will move on to someone else (probably to someone with an even bigger misogynistic mouth and elected to an even higher position); and these viral stories will be filed to the archives, and tweets will be buried by the next breaking statements.

These stories are delivered through 3,000-character or less breaking news, 140-character tweets, or Facebook Live and infographics, courtesy of the share or retweet button.

We consume our news the way we consume our coffee—often on the go. We read on the MRT or on the jeep on our way to work, on lunch break, or on that lull period at work when we’re on the verge of death by boredom. And we want our news short, straight to the point because our attention span shortens every now and then, not to mention we like to move on quickly.

And so, news organs adjust not only for the readers but also for the evolving social media platforms that has changed the way of storytelling. Reporters are no longer just competing for scoops and deadlines, but also web traffic, page visits, engagements and number of shares. Heck, even news sites cover the trending topics (i.e. funniest tweets about #NaAnoLang).

The way news is written has deduced reading to mere consumption, when, in free societies, reading is a form of pleasure and entertainment (of course, there is nothing entertaining with another account of an extrajudicial killing victim).

Need for more reportage

To maximize the privilege of freedom of the press and free will on news consumption, maybe we need stories that run more than three thousand characters and covers more than a statement or a trending hashtag. Maybe we need more reportage, creative nonfiction—graceful but factual prose, to save us from the monotony of our nine-to-five jobs and the horrendous traffic on Edsa.

A listicle of Sotto’s epic fail moments, although entertaining, cannot save this country. Maybe we need combinations of well-thought words bound by hard facts to thaw our frozen hearts and evoke hope in our desensitized souls.

National Artist Nick Joaquin, pioneer of this writing movement he called “New Journalism,” has proven this true.

In the ’60s, he shifted his career from creative writing to journalism at a time when literateurs looked down on the craft as hack writing. “I had this equally pretentious belief that I could create a journalism of my own, a ‘New Journalism’ as ‘creative’ as any poem or novel. And so I did reportage like the ‘House on Zapote Street’ and ‘The Boy Who Wanted to Become Society,’” Joaquin said when he received the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Literature, Journalism and Creative Communication in 1996.

Journalism vs Literature

His gripping narrative of “The House on Zapote Street” has become so successful that it was adapted to film by Mike de Leon.

But great reportage is not measured by movie adaptations, but its ability to be so absorbing that the voice of the narrator disappears and the story seems to tell itself.

“As you read, that event is not just something being related to you but something happening right before your eyes,” he said.

That’s what it feels like between the pages of a Nick Joaquin book—like being transported at the Imperial Hotel in 1961 Japan, watching a newsman talk over the phone to a Japanese girl with a love dilemma; or to pre-Gateway Cubao, witnessing the courtship of Manila’s most eligible bachelor and the 1959 Miss Colombia.

In the same lecture titled “Journalism versus Literature,” he underscored that graceful writing should never be forgotten because journalism is a serious business
of communication.

This serious business, at risk with the declining advertising revenue, space constraints and battle for readership, is on a much bigger fight—the fight for facts. Last April, March for Science protest was held hundreds of cities across the United States and, to quote one of the thousands of witty placards: “I can’t believe I’m marching for facts.”

Alternative facts

Alternative facts litter social media, masquerading as truth, when really, they are fabricated lies by hired trolls who hide behind their keyboards and fake news websites and Facebook accounts.

Now, more than ever, is the time to bring back Nick Joaquin’s New Journalism. Trolls can make false infographic on Paint, twist news stories and post it on fake news websites, but what this species of keyboard army can never duplicate is a good narrative.

“Good reportage is telling it as it is but at the same time telling it new, telling it surprising, telling it significant,” Joaquin said.

There is no shortcut on how to achieve this writing, but the National Artist, whose birth centennial was celebrated last May 4, left notes on how to write a good reportage.

“The first vital thing I learned in journalism: That every report must be done as if you were reporting on the parting of the Red Sea, or the Battle of Pinaglabanan, or the splitting of the atom,” he said in his lecture.

Joaquin, who authored numerous profiles and crime stories under the pen name Quijano de Manila, furthered: “There are no hack-writing jobs, there are only hack writers. If you look down on your material, if you despise it, then you’ll do a hack job.”

When “Golden Girl,” a portrait of Nora Aunor was published in 1970, Joaquin was called a bakya writer for taking such subject. But Joaquin, ever so humble, did not feel superior over his subject.

Joaquin’s New Journalism

And the Superstar Nora Aunor, forever immortalized in the fine expression of Quijano de Manila, said Nick Joaquin made her famous.

It may be an exaggeration to say that Joaquin’s New Journalism can save the country from breakdown, but it’s a step on preventing a cultural babel brought by divisiveness, polar views and cases of he-said-she-said.

“Journalism has grown up … Its fights are more serious now that it is seriously a faith, a freedom, a force. And it is therefore attracting the serious intellectual,” Joaquin said.

Maybe this is the reason behind the threats; whoever holds the pen holds the foundation of communication, along with faith, freedom and force.

National Artist for Literature Nick Joaquin (1917-2004) is celebrating his centenary this year. The centenary celebration includes a movie musical (“Ang Larawan”), various fora, a range of activities at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, a re-release of Joaquin’s “Cave and Shadows” and the release of “The Woman Who Had Two Navels and “Tales of the Tropical Gothic” from American imprint Penguin Classics.