This is my last week as an editor for The Pitt News opinions section.

I’ve spent all of it thinking about thinkpieces. Since my first year at Pitt, I’ve been writing or editing commentary, both at this paper and for other campus publications. And though I can say these experiences have changed my life both personally and professionally, I could not be less satisfied with the media corner I occupy.

My dissatisfaction comes from a growing frustration with how we, as columnists and readers, categorize opinions writing. When done well and with deep attention to detail, political and cultural criticism can be insightful and gripping. But in many hands, it’s not — it’s a platform for substanceless agenda-pushing. Just look at any article arguing that electors should reject Donald Trump or the pieces claiming DNC chairperson candidate Keith Ellison is actually an anti-Semite. This stuff isn’t journalism, it’s compensated raving.  

To this day, I cringe a bit when people describe all of my writing as journalism. This internal conflict over semantics was rooted in a belief that “journalism” is purely an informational service. In my mind, my role in opinions writing ran parallel to those efforts because I had the ulterior motive of persuasion. I still believe that’s the case, but my time editing columns has made it even clearer that the “journalist” label isn’t one you can simply stick in a Twitter bio or toss out when relatives wonder about your career plans.

Journalists have to earn the rank, yet we roll them all into a single category based on the institutions they occupy rather than the content they create. There must be a change in how commentators do their jobs, and it starts with recognizing that their writing is not above the standards other writing must meet in order to be valuable.

“Journalist” is different from jobs like “carpenter” or “lawyer.” These labels accurately describe a person regardless of how they apply their skills. You could build a house or you could build a set of creaky cabinets — you’re still a carpenter because you work with wood. You could defend victims of discrimination or defend corporations that poison entire communities — you’re still a lawyer because you practice law.

But if you write articles without any regard for verifiable facts or, worse, write around and brush aside inconvenient facts, you are not a journalist. You’re not just a “bad journalist,” you’re completely ignoring journalistic ethics. You’re just another writer on the internet. The distinction may seem arbitrary, but it’s a core conflict behind our fake news crisis.

There’s a list of questions every reporter has to answer if they have any hope of producing a good article: Why are you writing this? How could reading this article benefit someone? Is the information you’ve included actually representative of the larger issue you’re highlighting?

The same questions and potential pitfalls apply to commentary, but the cover of an “Opinions” label makes posing a thesis seem like a job well-done. That’s only the first step. We need to establish what impact these ideas have on readers, and simply shouting perspectives accomplishes nothing. It doesn’t matter which side of the political spectrum the article appeals to — thinkpieces are simply too obsessed with their thesis statements at the expense of more thoroughly establishing their conclusions.

A quick look at commentary-driven outlets like Daily Caller or Daily Kos brings this out immediately. The lead column on Daily Caller yesterday carried the headline, “The Popular Vote Is A Hoax” and argued that using a popular vote electoral model wouldn’t actually reflect popular opinion.

The problem with the article and others like it isn’t just that the argument makes little to no sense, it’s that there’s no evidence to back up its conclusions or a sign of what to do with those pseudo-insights. The logical flow leading the writer to his conclusion seems to have appeared out of nowhere, and there’s no way to translate them into real action beyond copying it for watercooler conversation.

Fake news and its creators capitalize on the public’s inability to separate actual information from biased observations about information that may or may not be real. With the past decade’s blogging boom and the eventual incorporation of that style into traditional media, redundant opining about literally anything is a business model.

We need to care more about why we are saying things than the fact we can say them. We need to care about incorporating data tools and links that flesh out our own perspectives to give readers a deeper view of the world. Right now, we’re too worried about our ledes.

“Everyone has a right to their opinion,” defenders of hollow claims might argue. That’s still a true statement in the sense that people are able to think whatever they want. Still, the bar must rise when considering the value of jettisoning opinions into the ether. Value should come down to whether those thoughts make any sense in light of the information available, and if there’s no evidence to examine, the commentary has no foundation. If there’s no takeaway, the commentary has no function.

It’s OK to say that speech has a right to exist while also saying it’s largely worthless. We have enough nebulous ideas floating around. We may never care exclusively about facts, but we can at least ensure our complaints come packaged with real reasons to agree.

Matt Moret is the Assistant Opinions Editor for The Pitt News. He primarily writes about politics and rhetoric.

Write to Matt at [email protected]