It was the late Australian journalist Les Carlyon who, when referring to the troubles of modern journalism, said:

Known for his love of storytelling, Carlyon's unique way with words and his unwavering belief that ‘if you get the words right, the rest – the profits, the circulation, the ads – will come to you’, lamented the turn the profession he had dedicated his life to was taking in the new, disruptive online world (Carlyon 2005).

Aged in his 60s with 40 years of experience when he made his observations about modern journalism, Carlyon was an old-school journalist, valuing the written word, its power, detail and correctness far more than the way it was packaged. For Carlyon, if a story were skilfully crafted and written, it would not need sensationalism to sell. Rather, it would be a sensational story.

His other great love was sport, in particular horse racing. He wrote extensively about the ‘sport of kings’, its characters – heroes and villains – and how they reflect the society in which they exist.

But as we entered the digital world, Carlyon rightly sensed that disruption was upon us. Online news was different than newspapers. Social media was different again. New, digital-only organisations were popping up, attracting advertising revenues and pushing out content to its online consumers at a far more rapid pace than anything Carlyon had previously seen (Carlyon 2005).

For Carlyon, this disruption was also disturbing. It had compromised the art of storytelling, the time taken to investigate important news and the depth of thought-provoking analysis. Journalists were rushed, stretched, lacking curiosity and too often appealing to the lowest common denominator to generate clicks.

Yet, for all his pessimism and concern for the direction journalism and news reporting were headed, Carlyon knew there was no going back. Quoting Jack Nicholson's character from Chinatown, Carlyon once remarked: ‘I don't want to live in the past – it's just that I don't want to lose it’ (Carlyon 2005).