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Working more, sleeping less: How women saved the news during the first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic
For women journalists, the pandemic was a double-edged sword. Freelancers lost contracts and revenues; staff made up for the difference, often while dealing with school and daycare closures.
As a staff journalist at a prominent daily news media in Montreal, Marie was used to working hard and at unpredictable hours. The first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic took things up a notch. “On s’est tous retrouvés chez nous, chacun de notre côté,” she recalls. “On faisait beaucoup d’entrevues à toutes les heures du jour et de la nuit avec toutes sortes de personnes, les conférences de presse se succédaient à vitesse grand V…” Marie worked more than ever, verifying information and writing stories as quickly as possible to avoid missing a scoop.
“C’était un moment hyper stimulant pour le travail,” she explains. After all, she was reporting about a new virus, a worldwide pandemic, a once-in-a-lifetime event! “C’était essoufflant aussi parce qu’on était vraiment submergés de nouvelles en continu, ça n’arrêtait pas de changer.”
Marie knew her readers depended on her. “Les gens étaient super avides de nouvelles, on sentait cette pression des gens, ce désir et besoin d’avoir de l’information,” she says. So, she wrote. And wrote. And wrote again. All while caring for her children and homeschooling the younger ones, because they were also stuck at home with her.
All names in this article have been changed to protect the participants’ anonymity, and any information that could lead to their identification has been removed.
For the first time in her life, Marie was unable to sleep well. “Les journées finissaient à des heures de fou et recommençaient tôt le matin. Je pouvais me coucher à 2h du matin et me relever à 6h pour avoir le temps de tout faire, et pour que les enfants ne paient pas trop le prix.” She remembers waking up in the middle of the night to finish an article, thinking: “Mon Dieu, je n’aurais pas le temps de le faire demain.”
“Ça a été extrêmement difficile, cette double pression de vie familiale et vie de travail, où tout devenait super chargé. On faisait tout à moitié. Ça m’est arrivé de faire des entrevues et de mettre [mon plus jeune enfant] sur un iPad et de me dire, ‘qu’est-ce que je suis en train de faire ?’ D’un autre côté, tu joues un peu avec tes enfants, t’as plein d’informations qui rentrent, tu passes à côté d’une nouvelle et t’es comme, ‘je ne peux pas croire que j’ai manqué ça’ !”
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Marie’s story is only one among many. Journalists all over Canada and the rest of the world suddenly had to become health reporters, experts in immunology and epidemiology tirelessly covering new developments in the ongoing public health crisis. And as if that wasn’t enough pressure, many of them had to do it from home.
Many journalists worldwide had to work from home, but others had to go into the field to provide first, sometimes experiencing unsafe conditions with little protective equipment (particularly if they were freelancers).
As the results of my study on Canadian journalists’ productivity during the first wave show, some struggled more than others. Women and precariously employed journalists, who already faced inequalities, bore the brunt of the profession’s reorganization around lockdown measures. Despite men journalists’ productivity decreasing, the overall publication rate of journalists increased during the first three months of the pandemic compared to the previous year because women journalists made up for the dive.
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The first wave severely impacted precarious journalists’ publication rate, which declined by a third compared to the previous year. Women working freelance were especially affected, as their productivity decreased by nearly half. Meanwhile, staff journalists, and specifically women, boosted their publication rate, probably to fulfill their media’s and their public’s needs. These results mean that women journalists suffered the most repercussions from the pandemic, but in opposite ways depending on their status. While staff women were pushed harder and produced more stories, precariously employed women lost more work and therefore income.
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Knowing that the pandemic has had unequal consequences is an essential step towards preventing future disparities caused by a new crisis and protecting diversity among journalists.
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Since the people who make the news impact what, and especially whose, stories are told, ensuring that a variety of voices and perspectives are represented in the media is paramount.
This includes freelancers and supernumerary journalists. In print journalism, supernumerary journalists are often employed to replace temporary staff. Like freelancers, supernumeraries have no benefits and protection. They do have one main contract with a news publication (unlike freelancers, who have to seek them out regularly) but they have no guaranteed hours and their schedules are therefore unpredictable.
Measuring the pandemic’s impact
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For my master’s thesis, I studied the productivity of almost 300 francophone print journalists working at three daily news organizations in Canada (La Presse, Le Devoir, and La Presse Canadienne). I compared the average number of stories each journalist wrote during the first wave (March 1 to May 31, 2020) to that of the same time span in 2019. I found that their publication rate increased by one per cent compared to the year before.
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Digging deeper into this data reveals that men and women journalists were impacted differently. While women’s publication rate increased by seven per cent in 2020, men’s decreased by three per cent.
I conducted this mixed methods study in the
context of the M.A. in Digital Innovations in Journalism Studies at Concordia University in Montréal, QC, Canada. Conducted under the supervision and guidance of Assistant Professor Amélie Daoust-Boisvert, the project took place between January 2021 and May 2022.
Overall, women’s productivity only increased by seven per cent, even though staff women’s productivity increased by 15%. This is because precarious women’s severe decline in publication rate (-44%) brings women’s average down.
Why would women journalists write more during a crisis like the COVID-19 pandemic? This contradicts what previous research has shown about academics, a group bearing similar characteristics. Among them, women published less research than usual while men were more productive.
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It is likely that women academics’ productivity plummeted because of the pervasiveness of traditional gender roles. In times of crisis, pre-existing inequalities tend to amplify, and women often suffer more. This pandemic was no exception, as women were burdened with additional unpaid care duties while working from home. They also have been pushed out of the workforce at higher rates than men. Childcare and homeschooling responsibilities primarily fell on women academics rather than men. Consequently, the pressure of working while caring for their children took a toll on their productivity.
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Among journalists, who covered the pandemic tirelessly and kept the public informed, women reported an increase in gender inequalities in the industry. This is no surprise, given that the field was already riddled with them. Before the pandemic, women were more likely to hold precarious positions with fewer benefits and protection than staff and to receive a lower salary than men. Many of them left the field in the middle of their careers, often when reconciling their careers and their families became too difficult.
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Unexpectedly, men journalists in my sample were the ones who published less stories during the first wave of the pandemic! As several journalists explained during interviews conducted in early 2022, the answer to this paradox may lie in the gendered division of beats within print media.
Many parallels can be drawn between the work of journalists and academics: they both spend much time researching, reading, and writing, and besides classes, academics have flexible schedules like freelance journalists. Much of the work of both journalists and academics can be done from home, particularly since the adoption of Zoom and other videoconference software as a key communication tool by most organizations. Importantly, both female academics and journalists are subject to the same pervasive gender roles that leave women bearing the brunt of housework and family-care, and since the beginning of the pandemic, have made them primarily responsible for homeschooling and childcare childcare.
Six journalists from the quantitative sample participated in a series of semi-directed qualitative interviews in January 2022. Four were staff journalists, of which three were women, and two were freelance journalists, both men.
In journalism, a beat is a specific area of news that a journalist cover. Throughout the industry, women traditionally cover beats like health, education, and fashion, while men have a tendency to cover beats like politics and crime.
Women’s productivity increased
Nearly all pandemic news revolved around health and education, topics frequently covered by women journalists. Beats usually reported on by men, like sports and crime, were less active.
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As staff journalist Florence explains, women were likely disproportionately called upon to produce stories. “Dans les grands médias, celles qui couvrent les beats santé sont généralement des femmes. C’est sûr que la personne qui couvre ça en mange une claque.”
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However, health reporters were not the only ones who felt a responsibility to quickly write about new developments as they arose, lay bare issues in the government’s management of the crisis, and tell peoples’ sometimes deeply emotional and distressing stories.
« En temps de crise on augmente notre productivité parce que la demande et le besoin est là. Les gens étaient super avides de nouvelles. On sentait cette pression des gens, ce désir et besoin d’avoir de l’information. » — Marie
There was tremendous pressure on every journalist to tirelessly interview sources, verify facts to prevent mis- and disinformation, produce new articles, and stay up to date on the mounds of new information coming in every day. This increased pace was hard on many, who found it exhausting and overwhelming at times. Paradoxically, this was also an exciting time for them.
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As staff journalist Camille recalls, “il y avait cette excitation de journaliste qui entrait en compte. Tu veux être là et couvrir cet évènement historique et rapporter ce qui se passe !” Throughout the first wave, she felt as if she and her colleagues did nothing but work and write on the pandemic.
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The pressure on these journalists was in part external, as information came in constantly and they had to be available when experts and sources such as healthcare workers had time for interviews. Because of this, Camille says, “on travaillait un peu tout le temps pour essayer de prendre de l’avance sur nos articles.”
The participants consented for audio recordings of their interviews to be shared with the public. This was approved by Concordia University’s ethics committee.
« On était fébriles, il y avait une fébrilité qui faisait qu’on travaillait tout le temps. La période de référence sans doute que je travaillais six jours sur sept et je n’ai jamais réclamé une minute de temps supplémentaire. » — Florence
However, most of the pressure came from themselves: they wanted to work hard because they felt a responsibility to their audience. They believe it was their duty to inform the public while shedding a light on injustice. “Il y a beaucoup de témoignages qui rentrent, beaucoup de gens qui t’appellent pour te parler de situations qui méritent d’être dénoncées. Il y a aussi cette responsabilité de transmettre ces inquiétudes et ces préoccupations au public et aux décideurs,” says Camille.
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Marie also feels that the pressure to work hard was her doing rather than her bosses’. “Il n’y avait pas de pression, si on avait besoin de ne pas travailler une journée on pouvait la prendre, mais c’est moi qui n’étais pas capable ! L’information rentre sur ton téléphone et tu sais que tu ne peux pas attendre une journée, donc c’est toi qui deviens ton propre problème, parce que les patrons comprennent.”
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To her, journalists truly provide an essential service of informing the public, especially during crises like the COVID-19 pandemic. “Ce que j’ai retenu de la première vague, c’est à quel point on répond à un besoin d’information. Le besoin était tellement grand et l’est tellement encore. C’est de l’information qui influence la vie des gens tous les jours,” Marie says.
The participants consented for audio recordings of their interviews to be shared with the public. This was approved by Concordia University’s ethics committee.
While the representation of women journalists among the total sample increased by only 1.5%, the proportion of total articles written by them jumped by four per cent, from 42.7% to 46.7%.
« On était dans un tourbillon »
This study also reveals that staff journalists’ productivity increased by nine per cent in 2020. A possible explanation may lie in the fact that, while the amount of information to cover increased because of the health crisis, the news industry’s advertising revenue dropped. This led to budget and salary cuts, layoffs, freelance contract terminations, and supernumerary staff hour reductions.
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Despite this downsizing, news providers still needed to meet the audience’s need for information. This likely explains staff journalists’ higher publication rate. Specifically, women staff seem to be responsible for this. Undeterred by rising gender inequalities at home, they redoubled their efforts and their productivity surged by 15 per cent. For men staff, the increase is only four per cent.
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Before the pandemic, Canadian women already took on more household tasks than men. The crisis only exacerbated this disparity, particularly among women who worked from home or lost their jobs. Women throughout the country also shouldered most of the additional homeschooling and childcare responsibilities caused by school and daycare closures.
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Florence’s husband shares household tasks, but homeschooling was indeed her responsibility. This complicated her workday, as she explains that unlike cooking and cleaning, homework can’t be done late at night. “Quand ma fille était en forme pour faire ses devoirs, c’était quand moi je devais parler au téléphone, faire mes entrevues, écrire mes articles, donc c’est sûr que c’était une lourdeur supplémentaire,” Florence says.
« À ce moment-là on le vivait un peu une semaine à la fois, en ayant cet espoir que ça ne durerait pas si longtemps. Si dès le début on avait su que nos enfants allaient être avec nous trois mois, je ne suis pas sûre que ça aurait été aussi facile. Mais à ce moment-là on y allait au jour le jour, on était tellement dans un tourbillon. »
— Marie
« Est-ce que ce ne sont pas les femmes qui subissent davantage les contrecoups au niveau des tâches à la maison, s’occuper des enfants, faire l’école à la maison? Mais d’un point de vue personnel, j’ai l’impression que j’ai autant travaillé que mes collègues masculins et vice-versa. » — Camille
The challenge of balancing family responsibilities while adapting to remote work added extra stress. However, Camille believes this didn’t impact her productivity and feels she didn’t experience any gender inequality. “Je pense que les femmes s’en mettent beaucoup sur les épaules et veulent performer beaucoup. Ce n’est pas parce que j’ai les enfants à la maison que je n’y arriverai pas, on essaie encore plus fort. Il y a aussi ce désir de montrer que je suis capable et que j’y arrive !” she exclaims.
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For Marie, the real disparity in the pandemic’s impact isn’t related to gender-based differences, but instead lies between journalists who had children (particularly young ones) and those who didn’t. “Des enfants grands qui font l’école à distance, et qui sont capables de se gérer eux-mêmes, ce n’est pas la même chose que des enfants que tu dois surveiller toute la journée. Les journalistes qui n’avaient pas d’enfants à la maison, ils ne vivaient pas la même réalité que nous,” she says. She reflects that those colleagues were able to work without disruption, but they found the loneliness and isolation challenging.
« Je n’ai pas fait de burnout, je n’étais pas au bord des larmes continuellement mais vraiment je pouvais me coucher à deux heures du matin, et me relever à six heures pour avoir le temps de tout faire, justement pour que les enfants ne paient pas trop le prix… donc ça ne pouvait pas être soutenu pendant trois ans. Dans mon cas il n’y a pas eu de dommages concrets mais ça faisait quand même des journées de fou. » — Marie
« Dans la salle de rédaction, on savait que ceux qui n’allaient pas bien du tout c’est ceux qui étaient célibataires sans enfants. Leur santé mentale était affectée. » — Florence
Lost opportunities for precarious journalists
Splitting the data by employment status exposes another disparity: the publication rate of freelance and supernumerary journalists sharply dropped by 33 per cent in 2020, while staff journalists’ productivity increased by nine per cent.
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As the study’s freelancer participants emphasized during interviews, their productivity does not fully depend on them, but rather on the contracts they are given by their clients. This partly explains why they bore the brunt of the media’s pandemic-induced budget cuts.
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This isn’t surprising to Alexandre. He has covered the culture and arts beats as a freelancer for the past 20 years and explains that, “Mon cas personnel illustre parfaitement la dynamique générale des pigistes versus les salariés. C’est évident que lorsqu’un média a moins de pages, moins d’argent, moins de revenus publicitaires, les pigistes sont les premiers qu’on coupe.”
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For the news industry, which already faced financial difficulties, the nearly instantaneous disappearance of advertising revenues during the first wave was the nail on the coffin. Many staff layoffs and media closures ensued, and the media industry responded by cutting precariously employed journalists first. As the participants describe, freelance budgets were cut, and supernumerary hours were reduced.
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“Le monde des arts et de la culture a fermé, tout le monde était en mode panique et il n’y avait plus de publicité dans les médias. Les pigistes ont perdu beaucoup de piges,” says Camille. News companies can get rid of temporary employees (like freelancers and supernumeraries) more easily than their permanent staff.
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Several participants believe the division of beats between precarious and staff reporters may also be responsible for the former’s plummeting productivity. “Chez nous, les pigistes ne pigent pas vraiment en santé et actualité, c’est plutôt des piges aux cahiers périphériques,” says Marie. She thinks the pandemic impacted their productivity more because beats like the arts, cinema, sports, and travel were put on ice.
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Precariously employed journalists didn’t choose to be less productive—why would they want to earn less? Thankfully, losing contracts in the culture beat didn’t impact Alexandre financially since he wrote about different subjects. “Mon volume de textes diminuait, mais je n’ai jamais cessé de travailler. Parfois je faisais des tâches de rédaction qui étaient plus payantes que de faire deux ou trois critiques par semaine,” he recalls.
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Alexandre seems to be an exception. Freelancers in Canada, the U.S., and other countries lost most of their sources of revenue. For the other precarious journalists in the study’s sample, the combination of years of low remuneration, stagnating fees, and the loss of contracts during the pandemic probably led to further financial insecurity and anxiety.
Staff and freelance participants alike were concerned about the pandemic’s financial impact on precarious journalists. “La pandémie l’a démontré, c’est eux qui ont des pertes de revenus importantes,” says Camille.
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As journalists in precarious employment conditions, they must prepare for periods without work. This was the case for Alexandre, who has been saving money since the beginning of his career. However, he thought that younger journalists who did not have time to prepare undoubtedly suffered greater stress.
« C’était inévitable »
Nicolas too lost many contracts at the beginning of the pandemic. Despite working as a freelancer by choice for many years and being prepared for periods of scarcity, the pandemic finally pushed him out of freelance journalism. “C’est un phénomène à plus long terme qui s’est accéléré avec la pandémie. Il y avait moins de place pour la pige dans la presse écrite,” he says. It became easier for him to find permanent employment than to keep struggling as a freelancer.
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Many of his colleagues also gave up on freelancing. “J’en ai entendu beaucoup qui ont abandonné, j’ai entendu beaucoup de gens dire ‘il n’y a plus de place’ et aller voir ailleurs. Ça vient avec son lot de tristesse et de frustration,” says Nicolas.
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Meanwhile, Alexandre believes that the pandemic had a greater impact on precarious journalists due to the nature of their status. “Vous avez des employés permanents, des journalistes salariés que vous devez occuper parce qu’on les paie, puis vous avez un pigiste… c’est sûr qu’il faut qu’ils fassent travailler leur monde à l’intérieur d’abord. C’était inévitable que j’en fasse moins,” he says.
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For both Alexandre and Nicolas, this is simply the reality of freelancing. “C’est dans la nature du travail de pigiste d’être occasionnel et un peu risqué,” says Nicolas. However, like several other journalists expressed in interviews, he feels that increasing fees, which have stagnated for the past 20 years, would help protect them in the future. Nicolas thinks that for those who are prepared to take the risk of their contracts ending unpredictably, “D’avoir un coussin financier peut rendre les choses moins douloureuses dans les moments où on n’a pas de travail.”
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In the long run, Nicolas is convinced that failing to protect precarious journalists has a negative impact on the diversity of voices in the news. “Étant donné qu’il y a moins de monde, naturellement la diversité des voix en souffre. L’expertise qui est souvent très répandue, là elle est concentrée auprès de certaines personnes qui se répètent au lieu de créer de l’espace pour d’autres,” he explains.
Double burden on precariously employed women?
Among precarious journalists, productivity declined more among women than men, by 41 per cent and 31 per cent respectively. Simply put, women precarious journalists lost more contracts and hours than men and therefore probably experienced more financial insecurity.
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Marie, Camille, and Florence are staff journalists whose stories exemplify the double burden of increasing unpaid and paid labour during the first wave of the pandemic. However, part of the story is still missing since no women precarious journalists agreed to participate in the study’s interviews.
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In print journalism, women tend to be freelancers or part-time workers and therefore often have more flexible schedules than men journalists. Since that would have enabled them to take on more childcare responsibilities, this might be a reason behind the larger impact on women precarious journalists.
Ad​apting to remote work
Other factors seemingly impacted journalists’ productivity during the first wave. Most journalists were stuck working from home, interviewing sources on the phone and writing their stories from their kitchen or living room table, or, if they were lucky, their home office. Some participants found that working remotely improved their productivity. Since there was no more separation between work and home, they wrote and worked constantly and without breaks. They believe it explains their higher production rate.
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“En travaillant à la maison, on travaille plus. Je m’étonnais encore cette semaine, souvent le midi je ne m’assois même pas 30 minutes pour manger,” says Florence. She also recalls that she had more time to write because she no longer had to commute for an hour and a half every day. Meanwhile, Camille felt that not having to go places and do field work meant articles took less time to produce.
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Despite the time saved, however, most journalists agreed that losing access to the field, particularly to hospitals and retirement homes, has had a negative impact on the quality of their work. “C’est important pour les journalistes de pouvoir aller sur le terrain et de documenter ça, c’est important aussi pour le public de voir ce qui se passe et de ne pas juste se fier au gouvernement,” says Camille.
« C’est peut-être parce que si je dois parler à des médecins ou chercheurs qui sont très occupés, c’est sûr que je me rends 100% disponible tout le temps, tandis qu’en temps normal si je dois parler à un prof ou quelqu’un d’autre, peut-être que je me dis qu’il est un peu plus disponible donc peut-être que je suis capable de dire, là je mange et je mets le cellulaire ailleurs. Tandis que là maintenant jamais. » — Florence
« On essaie encore d’aller dans les hôpitaux et on se bute encore à des nons, à des 'on est trop occupés' et il faut encore qu’on explique notre travail pour dire 'c’est important qu’on montre que vous êtes occupés si vous voulez que la population comprenne.' » — Marie
Faster is not always better
Several participants agreed that the pandemic made their work easier and faster in other ways. First, they didn’t need to chase down experts since they made themselves extremely available to journalists. “Ils ont vraiment été généreux, ils étaient supers réactifs donc ce n’était pas difficile d’avoir de l’information. Même le ministère de la Santé était vraiment efficace à nous répondre [avec des données], donc ça a facilité notre travail,” says Marie.
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Journalists also had to limit in-depth investigations during the first wave, and instead focused on shorter articles. This was essential to responding to the public’s need for news and had a positive impact on their productivity since these stories were easier and faster to write. However, they felt this kind of superficial work was less significant and interesting than longer analyses and investigations.
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“Si je fais 60 petits articles qui n’ont pas beaucoup d’impact social, je suis moins fière que si j’ai fait 20 articles qui ont eu un gros retentissement, ou qui ont pu faire infléchir une décision gouvernementale,” explains Florence.
An uncertain future
It is likely that, as Nicolas said, the loss of contracts has led many precarious journalists to give up on freelancing and move out of the journalism industry. Meanwhile, the added pressure on staff journalists may also push them to quit their beloved professions because of burnout and stress.
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Since in both cases, women were more strongly impacted than men—staff women experienced more pressure to produce, and precarious women lost more contracts—, the future of many women journalists remains in jeopardy.
Given that before the pandemic, women were already leaving the field at an alarming rate, it is more important than ever to ensure that the diversity of voices among journalists does not suffer even more. Measuring the pandemic’s impact on the productivity of those who kept us informed daily is an important first step, but it is not enough.
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Indeed, Marie thinks the greatest impacts may not have been on their productivity, since journalists are highly adaptive, but instead “En termes de fatigue, d’épuisement. Et les gens qui ont eu plus de responsabilités familiales qui leur sont tombées dessus ont peut-être écopé plus. Ça ne s’est peut-être pas traduit par une baisse de productivité, mais à quel prix ? Il y en a peut-être pour qui ça a eu plus d’impact sur la santé mentale et physique.”
Studies like the 2011 IWMF report, which claim gender parity in newsrooms has been achieved, do not consider that there are more women than men in journalism schools. That this ratio changes once women begin their careers suggests that women journalists leave the field at an alarming rate. This has been referred to as the ‘revolving door’ effect, whereby the number of women in the field seems to stagnate, or even grow, as those that leave the field are replaced by young journalists out of school.
« Je ne suis pas surprise de savoir que notre productivité a beaucoup augmenté, mais à quel prix? Je pense que moi je m’en suis bien sortie mais je sais que pour beaucoup de collègues ça a été extrêmement difficile. » — Marie
« La crise s’étire »
Regardless of their employment status, their gender, and whether they have children or partners, the journalists who participated in the study agreed that the pandemic was a difficult time for everyone. After two years of writing about the same topic, many of them felt professional fatigue and a desire for things to return to normal.
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“Au début j’étais très stimulée, c’était la première pandémie, les nouvelles nous tombaient dessus. Mais à un moment donné quand ça fait trois ou quatre articles sur le même sujet, t’es un peu tanné, tu pourrais presque faire du copier-coller. Là je pense qu’on est à l’étape de lassitude,” says Florence.
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Marie also expressed great fatigue at still having to fight for access to the field after all this time. “Ça fait deux ans qu’on est en pandémie ! Il me semble qu’il est temps qu’on arrête de devoir expliquer ce qu’on fait et pourquoi il faut nous ouvrir les portes. Ça m’énerve de me faire dire ‘non on est trop occupés’ ! Non, je ne veux pas venir quand t’es pas occupé !” she exclaims.
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Despite the pandemic dragging on, however, they felt proud of themselves for fulfilling their roles as journalists and for shining a light on mismanagement and injustice.
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As Marie exclaims, “On a quand même été capables depuis deux ans de publier un journal tous les jours en étant chacun chez nous, ce qui est un petit miracle pareil. Bref, amenez-en une autre crise, on s’en fout, on est prêts !”
Between the 2019 and 2020 study periods, the number of men in the sample declined by 11 (a 7% decrease) while the women only decreased by 2. There may be many reasons journalists, and specifically men, stopped publishing for these three news providers during the first wave (including retirement, changing media, and taking leave). In the future, it would be interesting to interview these journalists and dig into the potentially gendered differences in how they dealt with the crisis. It is possible that today, men are the ones leaving their journalism careers when they become unbearable, driving a feminization of the profession that occurs as working conditions worsen.
« C’était plus difficile, mais aussi je sentais vraiment qu’on était utile, qu’on était là pour une raison. Les sites de nouvelles ont été très courus, il y avait beaucoup de lecteurs tout d’un coup sur nos articles. » — Camille
« On a hâte de se retrouver et de pouvoir aller au travail et juste travailler. Ne pas avoir à s’occuper de la maisonnée en même temps, ça va être un luxe! »
— Marie
​Main conclusions
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Overall, journalists’ productivity increased during the first wave compared to the previous year.
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Women journalists’ productivity increased by 7 per cent, while men’s declined by 3 per cent.
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Staff journalists’ publication rate increased by 9 per cent, while precarious journalists only wrote two thirds as many stories as the previous year.
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Among staff, women’s productivity increased by 15 per cent, compared to men’s 4 per cent increase. This means women staff journalists had to work harder and likely experienced more pressure to produce than their men colleagues.
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Among precarious journalists, women’s publication rate declined by 44 per cent, while men’s decreased by 31 per cent. This means that women precarious journalists lost more contracts and hours than their men colleagues, and therefore probably experienced more financial anxiety.
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