BY PASCALE MALENFANT

It’s no secret that the journalism industry in Canada is in a state of crisis. From widespread distrust in media to the financial volatility brought on by digital journalism, most attention has been paid to the status and future of legacy media. However, without the reputation and resources larger journalistic institutions can fall back on, it is often those among the industry’s most vulnerable who face the greatest brunt of these issues — in this case, student media.

If post-secondary institutions are microcosms of general society, then the same must be true for university and college student-led publications, rendering the issues faced by them understandably similar to mainstream media. However, after months of surveying media lawyers, veteran journalists and leaders in student journalism, it is safe to say that many of Canada’s student newspapers are in an exceptionally difficult position compared to that faced by legacy media, with added challenges like limited funds to cover overhead, lack of training or guidance, government intervention and the added insecurity that comes with doing controversial and important work before one has even entered into the job market.

This guide is financially supported by The Law Foundation of Ontario. The Canada Press Freedom Project is solely responsible for all content.

In interviewing interested parties from across Canada, the Canada Press Freedom Project was able to collect testimony on student media’s biggest threats, from censorship  to legal intimidation to lack of funding. However, this report’s aim does not end at acknowledging and bringing greater attention to the state of student media in Canada — it also seeks to act as a touchstone for new and experienced student journalists on a number of matters related to media and defamation law, journalistic ethics and governance. 

Unpacking censorship: Not always black and white

Censorship is the suppression of ideas, speech, writing or other information or materials. Though not all forms of censorship are created equal — and some instances of it may even be justified — the frequency and consequences of censorship may be especially troublesome for Canada’s most vulnerable journalists, including student media.

“Legal intimidation is a form of censorship,” said Carlos Martins, a civil litigator and media law expert based in Toronto, who is also a Canada Press Freedom project board member. “There’s no getting around that. Now, any journalist will tell you it doesn’t end there — it’s a spectrum.”

However, given the unique nature of student journalists’ relationships to and with their sources, that student media is funded through levies and faces resource challenges, we decided to examine this particular microcosm of media practice more closely. Overall, the student journalists interviewed for this report identified two primary censorship challenges: the media relations policy and threats of defunding.

The ‘media relations policy’: Prior review, censorship, and source-driven oversight

The university administration

Faculty members are typically respected experts in their respective fields, serving as resources for student media, in particular when looking to find knowledgeable sources for complex stories. Further, given most student newspapers’ primary reporting focus are their respective post-secondary institutions, responsible reporting often requires comment from university or college administrators. Unfortunately, nearly every student journalist interviewed noted that their university has instituted restrictive policies that hinder faculty and staff from engaging with the media, effectively imposing a gag order on their communications. 

Students noted media relations often hinder their ability to contact university staff and faculty directly, forcing them to wade through days (or weeks) of bureaucratic tape in order to receive approval for an interview — even on topics with objectively positive connotations, such as professors’ accolades or newly-published research.

“Media relations was always our biggest problem, and managing our relationship with them took most of our energy,” said Nawa Tahir of her time as managing editor of The Varsity, the University of Toronto’s student newspaper, from 2022 to 2023. “We had instances of them calling reporters after stories were published, and yelling at them to the point of making them cry.”

“We also had professors tell us that they had received mass emails sent out by (media relations), telling them they weren’t allowed to talk to members of the media without a member of the department there with them — which a lot of them obviously didn’t respect, but created a lot of extra work for those who were scared of repercussions if they didn’t follow the rules.”

“Not only were they trying to intimidate us into not reporting,” said Tahir, “but they were also trying to intimidate members of the university into not talking without their permission.”

Even where prior permission wasn’t an issue, noted Tahir, “prior review” of articles often was — with university administration in particular being consistent culprits in demanding prior review of articles published by student journalists in exchange for access to information or sources at the university.

Prior review “is a very consistent thing — almost every source asks for it,” said Tahir. “We’d generally get around it by having a very hard line for that kind of thing, but (media relations) would sometimes even demand to see the questions we planned to ask sources, especially people in really high positions.”

Source-driven intimidation 

Though university administration proved to be among the most consistent sources of censorship amongst those interviewed for this report, some student journalists shared experiences of intimidation that extended beyond the university.

Polenchuk noted particular difficulties her student newspaper has had in getting in touch with political sources within Alberta’s United Conservative provincial government, often feeling fettered by their student status.

“Again, we try to do our job and reach out to them for comment, but they’re very unresponsive to media requests,” she said. 

“But on the other hand, if you don’t get comment — because they don’t think it’s worth the time talking to a student paper — and they don’t end up liking something you say about them, then they use the fact that you’re a student paper against you,” launching threats of legal action as intimidation tactics, knowing most student media’s limited financial capacity to defend themselves and hoping the students would take down the article in fear of retaliation. 

John Harris, editor-in-chief of The Muse, Memorial University’s student newspaper in St. John’s, Newfoundland, expressed similar concerns — ones extending beyond just legal intimidation. Writers at the paper have expressed fear after a Palestinian student’s personal memoir about their family’s forced displacement by the Israeli government was shared amongst pro-Israel circles off-campus. The article resulted in an email campaign directed at the newspaper and the student, demanding the article be taken down and threatening violence against its author.

“Though we initially made the article anonymous in response to these threats, we’ve unfortunately had to take it down to protect the student’s well-being,” said Harris. “This wasn’t just about their status as an international student, or looking at the job market — these were threats against their life, and we obviously don’t have the resources to protect them as a student publication.”

Defunding and public opinion: Balancing student support and responsible reporting

If anything has been made clear by the digital age of journalism, it’s that no single funding model for independent journalism comes without its flaws. 

This statement is equally true for student newspapers in Canada, which largely rely on three main sources of revenue to keep their operations afloat: student levies (i.e., a fee imposed on students for the purpose of funding student activities on a per credit, per term or annual basis, following consultation of the student body), advertising, and donations and/or fundraising.

Though some of the student journalists reported success with the security these models provided — specifically, the student levy, given paying said fees is generally not at the discretion of individual students themselves — others noted flaws with relying on the people who often constitute the subjects of what can sometimes be less-than-flattering portrayals.

For some, the consequences of choosing independent reporting over funding fell on the less serious side, said Tyler Griffin, a former editor at Toronto Metropolitan University’s The Eyeopener, a current national producer at Postmedia Network.

“When it came to advertising, a lot of the ads placed in (The Eyeopener) were businesses on campus,” said Griffin, “and I can definitely remember a few times where we did a few fun satire stories where they’d be the subject, and end up pulling their funding.”

“We tried to be conscious of it, but we definitely did lose advertisers,” he added. “Luckily, we didn’t rely too heavily on advertising revenue, but we were in a very unique position to have that kind of freedom” due to The Eyeopener’s predominant reliance on student levies to cover its expenses.

However, even the student levy and fundraising models come with limits, many students reported. For instance, some student journalists noted feeling pressure to avoid reporting on certain hot-button topics on campus for fear of backlash — and how that backlash may affect future fundraising campaigns.

“I remember attending a (national) conference a few years ago, and there was some critique directed at (The Gateway) for not reporting on university divestment from fossil fuels,” said Polenchuk. “But when you’re in Alberta, and you’re somewhere where oil and gas is everything,” organizations reliant on donations or fundraising must be especially careful about how and what they report.

“If we say or do something the students don’t like, there’s nothing stopping them from not donating to a fundraiser, if we have one going on,” added Polenchuk, “or eventually voting against a (future) campaign to increase our student levy when we need to.”

Hannah Alper, a student at Western University in London, Ontario and co-ordinating editor for The Gazette, echoed this sentiment, noting that this risk may be exacerbated when student newspapers look to report on particularly controversial issues, where their lack of direct access to experts and specific training  may make it difficult to ensure their coverage accounts for all members of the student body.

Similar to a number of other campus journalists interviewed for this report, Alper noted that the aftermath of October 7 and the increase of on-campus discourse related to the Israel-Palestine conflict took a particular toll on The Western Gazette’s newsroom.

“Students on both sides of the conflict are upset, and it’s often so incredibly difficult to report on an issue like that without upsetting someone about how the coverage plays out,” she said. The Gazette “is really lucky to have the structure and advisors that we have, but we definitely don’t have the resources that traditional newsrooms have, who can reach out to these communities spokespeople and experts to weigh in and guide them.”

“As a student paper,” Alper added, “we’re often relying on other (students) in the newsroom to fill in those gaps and educate each other — which is fair, but can also be a huge burden for the people who are being asked to weigh in the most,” and may also end up skewing coverage towards one direction or another, resulting in coverage that may undermine student trust in or support of the paper.

Where student opinion dictates, funding suffers

For student journalists in Ontario specifically, at no point was the fickle nature of the student-support funding model more evident than in 2019, when the Ontario provincial government — headed by Conservative Premier Doug Ford — temporarily introduced and passed the Student Choice Initiative. 

The SCI mandated that universities and colleges permit post-secondary students to opt out of certain “non-essential” ancillary fees collected on behalf of student groups, including those meant to support independent student media, resulting in thousands of dollars lost for some campus newspapers. 

“Since it was ultimately going to be up to the students on whether they wanted to opt in or out of our fee, we tried to raise awareness about how it would affect us,” said Griffin of his time at The Eyeopener. However, despite what he and his colleagues felt was a general sentiment of support from students on campus, their awareness campaign was unable to produce the results they were looking for — resulting in one of the largest opt-out rates of any student newspaper in the province, and a precariously-founded year for the paper as a whole.

“We know people supported us, especially when it came to the big investigations on campus — but when money’s involved, and you’re asking students to pay for something extra that they might not feel like they use every day … it put us in a tough spot.”

Though the SCI was eventually struck down in a decision affirmed by the Court of Appeal for Ontario as outside the provincial government’s jurisdiction, resulting in the reinstitution of student levies, the temporary impact nevertheless had long-term consequences for student newspapers across Ontario — demonstrating just how reliant the student media model finds itself upon student opinion in Canada.

“I don’t think we ever viewed it this way, but I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of papers have started thinking to themselves — should we report on this controversial issue that affects a lot of students on campus, or should we hold off in case it turns certain people against us?” said Griffin. 

“Especially in a levy-renewal year, the stakes are pretty high.”

Legal intimidation: Know your rights 

Given the unique vulnerabilities of campus media, lawsuits launched against student newspapers are no longer uncommon. From former students, to university staff to elected politicians, a vast array of defamation claims have been brought against student newspapers across the country in recent years from plaintiffs of all varieties. 

And though not every lawsuit may be successful — indeed, some may be easily dismissed at an early stage in the process — defending oneself, one’s colleagues, one’s publication and one’s sources can be expensive. If there’s a lesson to be learned from the precarious legal position student newspapers find themselves in by virtue of their size and resource level, it’s knowing the rights and responsibilities that come with being a member of the journalistic profession.

“A strong student newspaper is the lifeblood of a university, and it’s so important the work that student newspapers do,” said Stone. “It’s one thing to have freedom of expression, but if nobody actually uses it, it doesn’t hold much value.”

“But what’s equally important is that student newspapers exercise their right to express  themselves … in a responsible way.”

Defamation: Where to find the law

To begin, though defamation is a province-specific area of the law, many of the rules, tests, and rights journalists ought to know are the same in each province (with the exception of Quebec, where privacy is protected “especially rigorously,” according to Martins).

“Aside from Quebec, in general, most provinces have their own ‘libel and slander’ or ‘defamation act,’ which sets out certain defenses that are available to publishers and broadcasters,” said Martins. This includes, though isn’t limited to, Ontario, British Columbia, Nova Scotia, and Alberta.

“But in general, it’s not really a legislation-focused area of the law,” he added. This means that most of rules that discuss what defamation is, how to determine whether something is defamation and the defences journalists have against defamation are located in something called “case law,” which is a body of law that is developed through judicial decisions in court cases.

“So, when you’re looking at defamation, you have to remember to consider both,” said Martins. “The most important cases that apply to nearly all the provinces are those that come out of the Supreme Court of Canada.”

What is — and isn’t — defamation, and how can I defend myself?

The general definition of defamation comes from Grant v. Torstar, a defamation case heard by the Supreme Court of Canada in 2009. In this case, the plaintiff (Grant) brought an action in defamation against the Toronto Star after an article was published concerning a private golf course Grant intended to build on his lakefront property. The story aired the views of local residents who were critical of the development’s environmental impact and suspicious that Grant was using his political influence behind the scenes to secure government approval for the new golf course. 

Most notably, the case reiterated the legal “test” a plaintiff must meet in order to prove they were indeed defamed and thus, deserve compensation (normally in the form of an article retraction and/or money). The three things a plaintiff must prove are: 

• 1. That the impugned words were defamatory, in the sense that they would tend to lower the plaintiff’s reputation in the eyes of a reasonable person; 
• 2. That the words in fact referred to the plaintiff (meaning that it must be somewhat obvious to people who hear or see the material must realize that it is the claimant whose reputation has been tarnished); and 
• 3. That the words were published, meaning that they were communicated to at least one person other than the plaintiff. 

If the plaintiff proves these required elements, then it’s on the defendant to advance one of the available defences in order to escape liability.   

Defence #1: Truth

According to Grant v. Torstar, the defence of truth hinges on the assertion that the contested statement is accurate in substance and fact. To successfully make this defence, the journalist (who, in this case, would also be called the defendant) must demonstrate that the defamatory meaning — whether literal or inferred — embedded in the defamatory statement is actually true.

Importantly, proving that a statement was indeed “true” is a viable defence even when the defamatory statement was published with reckless disregard as to whether it was indeed true or not. However, it’s also a difficult one to make out, given some of what journalists report may be closer to opinion than truth (for instance, criticism of others’ actions by a source). Further, proving the truth of one’s reporting is very different in a courtroom than it is in an article, particularly where a trial may take place years after the defamatory statement was published or broadcast.

Defence #2: Fair Comment

Also known as “honest comment on true facts,” this is where a journalist may be able to defend themselves for making an opinionated statement — made by them or a source — that may not be objectively true. It requires proving several elements, which were laid out by the Supreme Court in WIC Radio Ltd. v. Simpson:

1. The comment must be on a matter of public interest. This is a “broad concept” that can encompass a variety of things.
2. The comment must be based on fact. This means that the facts have to be sufficiently stated or otherwise be known to the readers or listeners. If the factual foundation is unstated or unknown — or it turns out to be false — the fair comment defence is not available.
3. The comment, though it can include inferences of fact, must be recognizable as comment. 
4. The comment must satisfy the following objective test: could any person honestly express that opinion on the proved facts? Interestingly, this doesn’t mean that the defendant themselves needs to hold that opinion (though it can be helpful in the defence). Instead, it just needs to be a reasonable possibility that a nexus could be drawn between the facts and the opinion.

However, even if the comment satisfies the objective test of honest belief, the defence can be defeated if the plaintiff proves that the journalist was “subjectively actuated by express malice” — meaning that the journalist intentionally and deliberately published the opinion to harm the reputation of the plaintiff. 

Defence #3: Privilege

The word privilege refers to certain occasions when the public interest in free and candid speech trumps the public and private interest in protecting an individual’s reputation. 

One of the most important aspects of this defence is that it protects defamatory errors of fact which are not excused under the defences of justification or fair comment. It specifically applies to instances where the defendant has an interest or a duty — legal, social or moral — to communicate the defamatory expression, and its recipients have a corresponding duty or interest to receive that communication. 

However, the issue is not whether the defendant had a right to make the defamatory statement or thought that they had a duty to make it, but rather whether a reasonable person would feel compelled by a duty to make the communication. This means the defamation must be reasonable from an objective standpoint.

In the defamation context, there are two kinds of privilege: qualified and absolute. The main difference is that in instances of qualified privilege, the defence is lost if the statement was made with the dominant motive of malice (i.e., saying something out of spite, or where you knew the statements were false or were recklessly indifferent as to their truth).

Absolute privilege, however, protects defamatory statements made in very particular contexts even where malice may have been the dominant reason for why you shared them. This may include testimony during a judicial or quasi-judicial proceeding or statements made by politicians in Parliament or a provincial legislature.

Defence #4: Responsible Communication

Last, but certainly not least, is the defence of responsible communication. This relatively new defence was recognized by the Supreme Court in Grant v. Torstar, and protects a defamatory publication on a matter of public interest where the defendant was diligent in trying to verify the truth of the allegation about the plaintiff.  

“No one sues a journalist and says that they’re launching a SLAPP,” said Martins. “It’s a kind of nickname to refer to these problematic legal cases that have more malicious intent behind them than just wanting their day in court.”

In response to a rise of these kinds of lawsuits over the past few decades, some provinces (specifically, Ontario and British Columbia) have implemented explicit “anti-SLAPP” legislation, which permit journalists to ask courts to strike out such suits early on in the litigation where it’s relatively obvious that the purpose behind them is to merely silence a reporter, as opposed to bringing a legitimate claim for libel or slander.

Though each province is slightly different, the overall test remains the same. Looking to the Ontario case of 1704604 Ontario Ltd. v. Pointes Protection Association, the Ontario Court of Appeal explains that a journalist must first establish the “threshold burden” of proving to the judge that the proceeding against them comes from an expression relating to a “matter of public interest” (which, again, is given a broad interpretation). Importantly, it will not be legally relevant whether the expression is “desirable or deleterious,” “valuable or vexatious,” or whether it helps or hampers the public interest — at this stage, all that matters is that it’s in the public interest.

Then, if this threshold burden is met, it’s up to the original plaintiff (i.e., the person bringing the defamation lawsuit) to prove to the judge that:

• 1. There are grounds to believe that their lawsuit has “substantial merit,” and that the defendant has no valid defence to the defamation. This means the proceeding must be supported by legitimate evidence that shows the case has a real prospect of success, and that any of the possible defences (noted above) the journalist could bring would be too far-fetched in the case.
• 2. The harm likely to be (or that has been) suffered and the corresponding public interest in permitting the proceeding to continue outweighs the public interest in protecting the expression. This is a balancing exercise that may require the court to consider a number of factors, like the quality and motivation of the expression, the importance of free expression as a overarching principles (like the search for truth, political decision making, etc.), the importance of expression, the history of litigation between the parties, any disproportion between the resources being used in the lawsuit, or the harm caused or the expected damages award.

If either one is not met, the judge will find that the lawsuit is a SLAPP, and will subsequently  dismiss it. However, where both are shown, it will be allowed to go forward — and a full trial will take place to determine whether the journalist committed an act of defamation.

Responding to an accusation of defamation

Knowing your rights is one thing — but how do you enforce them, particularly where someone may be accusing you of defamation?

First, said Martins, it’s important not to panic. “I would say that three-quarters of defamation threats — or even lawsuits — that I see never go beyond the threat stage. People might feel they’re inaccurately portrayed in the media, and may get a lawyer to send you some kind of threat so they can tell everyone else in the world they’re pursuing something, even if they’re really not.”

However, Martins nevertheless cautioned young journalists to take threats of defamation seriously from the get-go, and to keep in mind that what they say and do could make their lives more difficult later on if a full lawsuit is launched by a plaintiff.

“You’re journalists, right? So you want to get it right — and if you got it wrong, and it’s obvious you got it wrong, you should fix it,” he said. “But if you’re in a situation where you’re asking, well, how wrong is it? That’s where things get more complicated.”

“Really, you should consult a lawyer before doing anything. Unless there’s a really, really clear defence in your situation, you should talk to a professional before you say something that may prejudice your case, and make it difficult to win down the line.”

Responding to a suit: The process

Though each lawsuit may be different — and each province has its own rules related to legal procedure — most defamation cases will follow a similar series of events.

After notice is given (in those provinces that require it) and a lawsuit is filed, if the case isn’t settled from the get-go, a defendant will have a certain number of days to file their defence with the court. Failing to do so may result in a default judgment, where the court assumes you admit to the claims made against you and the party suing you can ask the court to order you to pay the claim in full. 

Afterwards, some provinces (like Ontario) will require the parties to partake in mandatory mediation, where a neutral third party will attempt to help the parties come to an agreement or settlement outside of the court process.

Should mediation fail, the parties will generally be expected to partake in something called examinations for discovery. This is where the parties can exchange information about their evidence before going to trial, such as documents, and also permits pre-trial questioning of the other side under oath. In this process, both parties are generally required to voluntarily disclose all relevant evidence. Failing to do so can carry serious consequences.

After discovery, the parties request a court date through a process called setting down for trial. This will require putting together a trial record (which includes all the arguments and evidence you intend to bring up during the trial), and serve it to both the court and the other party.

“It’s also almost always the case that the journalist will be questioned on the stand during the trial,” said Martins. “That’s because most of the defences for defamation require journalists to be accountable to their work, and to explain why what they did was reasonable and responsible.”

After the court makes its decision, the parties can either accept the ruling and pay whatever costs or damages were ordered (often, a successful party to litigation will be entitled to costs payable by the unsuccessful party) or appeal the case to the next highest court. 

Responding to a suit: Getting the help you need

It goes without saying that lawyers aren’t often easy to come by — particularly for a student newspaper or journalist low on financial resources. However, there are a number of resources students may be able to tap into when in need:

• Canadian University Press: Student newspapers can pay an annual fee (based on the publication’s size) to maintain membership with the Canadian University Press. This membership covers the first hour of legal costs for the newspaper each year.
• Canadian Media Lawyers Association: The CMLA lists a number of qualified media and defamation experts in each Canadian jurisdiction, many of which provide pro bono and low bono legal services to independent media and student journalists. However, student journalists looking for guidance should contact the CMLA at its main directory email, where they will send the request out to its members in the relevant jurisdiction to see if anyone has the time and ability to assist with the file. 
• Canadian Association of Journalists: CAJ boasts a long history of supporting journalists advocating for their rights, and may be able to help with finding and funding representation.
• Rory Peck Trust: This fund supports freelance journalists and can be used to support legal fees.

Putting responsible communication into practice: How to conduct a journalistic investigation 

Though important journalism comes in a variety of forms, it is the investigation that constitutes some of the most admired work in the field. As veteran journalist and former executive producer of the CBC’s The Fifth Estate, Cecil Rosner, put it: “It’s not like daily news reporting. It’s a search for the truth. it’s not just a repetition of what this person said and what that person said, or a report of what happened at City Hall today, like a daily news report. No — it’s, ‘Here’s what this person claims. Here’s what that person claims, and here’s the truth.’”

However, it is also the investigation that often carries with it the greatest liability for journalists and sources alike. Journalists, as Rosner put it, “are a bit like gatekeepers of knowledge no one else knows,” rendering responsible reporting an even more important undertaking in avoiding a lawsuit.

Rosner, who — during the course of his over 30-year career — has compiled a number of best-practice tips for novice journalists looking to take on an investigation. With input from other well-known reporters in Canada, below is a step-by-step (though not exhaustive) guide on how to conduct a thorough and ethical journalistic investigation.

Pre-investigation: Getting the tip

Though many journalism students may believe that verification of a tip’s accuracy should come before every other step in the investigation, Rosner emphasized the importance of making sure that any story that may come from it is something that would be of interest to the audience one is writing for.

“Before you spend any money or devote any extra resources to a story, you have to make sure your audience cares,” he said. “Only when you work that out is when you start verifying.”

Another question  journalists should ask themselves upon receiving a tip, noted Erica Johnnson — current host of CBC’s investigative news segment, Go Public — is who the tip is coming from.

“Do they stand to benefit if we tell this story and are they an interested player? If there might be a motivation behind them delivering this tip, that’s something you need to keep in mind as you’re investigating,” she said. 

Rosner suggested that student journalists think of a tip or story as a hypothesis, coming to the investigation with an idea as to what might be going on. However, he also stressed the importance of an open mind, and making sure the verification process doesn’t turn into an exercise of solely trying to prove that hypothesis right.

“Let’s say the tip was that food in the school cafeteria isn’t being handled properly,” he said. “That could be your hypothesis. (That) doesn’t mean you believe that to be the case, and that doesn’t mean you’re held then to go prove that. It means that’s what you’re going to inquire into.”

“The task then becomes accumulating evidence, and being open to verification that would either support your hypothesis or disprove your hypothesis,” meaning being prepared for the fact that the story itself may not go anywhere — and not allowing people to know where you stand while you’re interviewing them.

“At this point, you’re not standing anywhere. You should be the receptor of information and never the projector of any of that information.”

When it comes to how to properly go about verification itself, Rosner described two main methods — multiplicative verification (hearing the same story from multiple sources who are independent of each other) and internal verification (interrogating information against itself).

“With the first, you’re looking to see if there’s consistency across the board — if there is, there’s a good chance the information is true,” said Rosner. “With the second, it’s a bit like a police interrogation. Like, if you got home at 8 p.m., and I ask where you came from, and you say you were playing hockey with the guys. My follow up might be, ‘Really? Because I’ve checked, and the hockey game with the guys only starts at 9.”

Johnson echoed the importance of both these strategies, noting that new journalists should never be afraid to ask sources to corroborate their story.

“Of course, you want to do so respectfully,” she said, “but, obviously, as journalists, we can’t just take someone’s word for it. So you’ll want to ask for documents, paper trails — which you might need to file an Access to Information Request for — or other people who can back up what an initial source is saying.”

This means that where an anonymous tip comes in, student journalists should be especially wary.

“It’s very hard to verify the accuracy of information if you don’t know the person behind it,” said Johnson. “At CBC, even if the source remains anonymous once the story is published or broadcast, someone within the organization must know their identity — generally, it’s the investigating journalist and one of their bosses.”

However, perhaps one of the most important things to confirm with your sources at this point, added Rosner, is to make sure their expectations for where the story might go and what sharing it might do are realistic.

“You always want to be honest with your sources — even while you’re making sure you’re not taking a side during the verification process — which means you can’t promise them there will or won’t be a story coming out later,” he said. “All you can say is that you’re trying to find out as much as you can, and that you’ll make your decision once you have all the information you can get at this stage.”

Investigation: Getting the story

So, you know you have a story idea that works for your audience, and you have enough information to know it’s worth pursuing further — now, who do you talk to? And perhaps more importantly, who do you wait to talk to?

More specifically, talking to sources too soon who may end up becoming the target of your investigation may be a liability. For example, questioning the school cafeteria about whether they mishandle their food without having spoken to all the other interested parties may cause them to lock up and refuse later interview requests, meaning your one shot at getting them to reply to every allegation made against you might have been used up.

Rosner suggested that student journalists look at each story they pursue like a spiral. “At the centre is the school cafeteria — that might be the last call you make, because you want the rest of the spiral to fully inform you on what you should ask.”

“Essentially, you’re working your way from the outside, in. Maybe there have been previous stories about the cafeteria food, or a report done 10 years ago about the state of the cafeteria. So you want to start with reading those. … Then, maybe you find a food expert who will tell you general things about how cafeterias should operate. Then you progress to people who used to work there, and then you progress to people who are working there right now, and, ultimately, you’ll then want to talk to the person in the very center of your spiral.”

However, this doesn’t mean springing the details of an investigation on an “accountable party” at the last minute, added Johnson. Instead, student journalists should view interviewing other sources beforehand as preparation to give said party the right to properly respond and consider the risk to their reputation, business, etc.

Mike De Souza, director of enterprise and investigative reporting at the Narwhal, also emphasized that this doesn’t mean giving the accountable party a copy of the story ahead of time. Instead, journalists should aim to address each allegation made against them, and give them full opportunity to respond to each, which may also mean going back to an earlier source for additional verification.

“You want to make sure you aren’t just springing a story or an allegation on them when you’re publishing,” he said. “That’s not just unfair — it’s also not good journalism.”

However, when it comes to building that spiral, Rosner noted that the best sources are always the most direct — specifically, people who have seen or experienced something first-hand. He recommended students consult Reuters’ Handbook of Journalism and its gradation of source types when evaluating the strength of a source for a story — from something witnessed by the journalist themselves as the strongest verification, to an unnamed single-sourced story as the weakest.

To name or not to name: What to do when a source asks to go anonymous

When and when not to permit an anonymous source is a prickly subject, even for the most experienced journalists. All the journalists interviewed for this report emphasized that a named source should always be preferred over an unnamed source in a story, and that an unnamed source should only be used where the information they share cannot be reported any other way.

“You also have to make sure the person is credible,” said Rosner. “So that means that, even if the source is unnamed in the story, you need to know their identity, where they got their information from, and corroborate that information.”

“Where they’re sharing an opinion — especially a negative one — you should be even more cautious about printing,” he said, given many people may be inclined to share sometimes unfounded opinions if they know their name will not be publicly associated with them.

As such, Rosner emphasized the importance of, where appropriate, helping sources understand the credibility ramifications of anonymous sourcing, and the weight named sources hold in a story versus unnamed sources.

Though Johnson echoed these sentiments, she also noted the importance of warning anonymous sources that, even should they choose to stick with keeping their name on background only, their anonymity may not stretch as far as a court of law, should it come down to it.

“Really what we’re talking about here is confidential sources, because anonymous would mean no one (within the organization) knows who they are, which would never be the case at CBC,” she said. “But a lot of times, a confidential source will say, ‘So if we get sued, you guys will defend me, right?’, because they don’t really know how it works.”

“In reality, if a defamation suit does happen, the CBC will defend the journalists that worked on the story, and the people in the story may also be supported because they are part of the story — but we can’t be their lawyers. So there’s always that risk.”

This may mean that responsible journalists should prepare their sources for the potential legal ramifications of being quoted — even anonymously or confidentially — in a story, as a source can be sued regardless. Further, a journalist or media organization may be forced in some instances to disclose the identity of a source as part of the legal proceedings or settlement, putting the source at personal and legal risk.

Often the most difficulty journalists have when conducting an investigation is getting sources to open up. Though there’s no one-size-fits-all solution, Rosner noted that over the course of his career, one of his biggest takeaways was that gaining the trust of one individual often requires gaining the trust of those around them who are also impacted by the story.

“This means spending a lot of time (on gaining trust) — but be persistent, and don’t give up. Even if someone rejects you right away, it doesn’t mean you can never go back to them,” he said.

“Just be cognizant of the balance between being persistent and being harassing.”

Equally as important during the investigation is how one interacts with one’s sources, added Rosner. 

“Keep in mind that you should be recording and saving everything — every email, every document, every interview, every phone call,” he said, “because if you’re sued for defamation, all of that can be subpoenaed in court.”

“Even though you’re working with a lot more information, you should remember that there isn’t any big material difference in any good story,” he said. “Good storytelling is how you engage an audience, whether it’s a news story, an investigative report, a documentary or a podcast.”

“If you just regurgitate a bunch of facts in chronological order, you’re not exactly going to captivate your audience, and you’re not going to get anything across.”

More specifically, Rosner noted that journalists shouldn’t be afraid to write their investigation in a way that leads the audience to a particular conclusion. “But it shouldn’t be an opinion piece — an opinion piece tries to get an audience to draw a conclusion, but doesn’t do it based on evidence or facts. A good investigation marshals the evidence” and presents it in a way that makes a founded claim.

This also means being cognizant of the fact that, as the reporter, one may be inclined to take some context for granted, and may have difficulty envisioning the kind of explanation the audience might need to make sense of the story. 

“You have to remember that your audience is coming at this for the first time, likely with very little to no background,” said Johnson, “so it’s your job to give them that background in a way they’ll find interesting enough to engage with. You have to come up with your thesis, but also think about the key points that support that thesis.”

“It’s also good to think of investigative journalism as a privilege — it takes a lot of time and resources,” added Johnson. “So if you just sort of give the reader a smorgasbord of facts and tell them to figure it out, I’m not sure who you’re serving. You have to be prepared to do some explaining so the (audience) doesn’t just understand the information, but understands why it matters by drawing those conclusions.”

De Souza echoed this point, pointing to the importance of the nut graph — or explanatory paragraph or two located near the beginning of the article — to set the stage for readers. 

“It should be clear and concise, but really, that’s your opportunity to explain to your readers what you’ve been covering and why it’s important,” he said. “That also means that you have to find a way to balance both sides in the graph — so if your story is about a really serious allegation against someone, you’ll want to include a high-level summary of their response high up in the story, too.”

Johnson also noted that journalists should be prepared, if necessary, to follow up with a second story where the developments may exceed the addition of an in-text update a week or so afterwards.

“Of course, in radio or television, you can’t really update the original story itself, since they’re long gone by the time they’re broadcast,” she said. “But I do think that we should view print similarly.”

“Where a story warrants it, a good journalist should be okay with following up with sources, going back and getting more information, and providing their audience with the continuation of that narrative — which may even mean reporting the story from the other side’s perspective, if you didn’t have the information to fully do that the first time around.”

It goes without saying that the continued existence and success of student media boils down to more than just a familiarity with defamation law and responsible reporting — and any principle applicable to the survival of journalism as a whole applies tenfold to the realm of post-secondary media. 

Though challenges remain ahead, student journalists should take solace and pride in the fact that though their jobs may often be thankless — and underpaid — ones, they are nevertheless crucial for their communities and future careers.

“Even through all the trials and tribulations,” said Martins, “keep in mind how important it is that student newspapers exercise their right to express themselves and to do it in a responsible way so that they inform their readers — and a lot of the time, themselves.”

If there is one takeaway from this report, it is the fact that even as a student journalist, you are never alone. Whether it’s a lawyer taking on your case pro bono, an experienced journalist from your community, or even a peer in the newsroom, there is always someone else to help you work through the tricky legal and professional hoops one must jump through in order to report the truth.

“Really, it’s about doing you due diligence,” said Stone. “That’s really what should be at the front of your mind when you’re thinking about how to go about your reporting — ask yourself what you could be doing to make sure your bases are covered. Who haven’t you interviewed? Who haven’t you consulted?”

And perhaps, most importantly, remember that student journalism is still journalism, and the stories student journalists tell have a wider impact than they might realize.