Journalism does not die because communication technologies change. It dies when it abandons truth in favor of markets, power, or vanity. The same principle applies to the new generation of content creators. They will not be judged by the size of their audiences but by the integrity with which they serve the public’s right to know.
Artificial Intelligence is neither the new Messiah nor the new tyrant. It is a tool capable of accelerating either deception or knowledge. Which path prevails will ultimately depend on humanity itself.
If the Metahuman truly represents the next stage of human evolution, it will not be the one who thinks faster, but the one who has learned to question more wisely.
The late Greek journalist Nikos Kakounakis, one of the self-proclaimed “combative journalists” who emerged after the fall of the military dictatorship, once made a brutally revealing remark. What he intended as self-mockery became, in fact, an unintended confession:
“The best journalist is one who has killed his own mother.”
Years later, departing from conventional decorum but not from moral judgment, we ourselves asked:
“If the best journalist has killed his mother, what has the worst one done—raped her first?”
Such is the criminal guild we are speaking of. Even its own architects occasionally admit its corruption—usually only when denouncing their competitors. How could it be otherwise, when the principal ingredients of commercial journalism have long been blood, scandal, fear, sex and manipulation, all sold under the sacred signboard of “The Press”?
For nineteen consecutive years we have repeated that commercial journalism worships only one deity: Mammon.
Now a new generation circles above the weakening body of traditional media.
They call themselves YouTubers, TikTokers, Instagram creators and influencers. Many have already secured fortunes through the global advertising industry and now stand ready to inherit what remains of the old media empire.
Nothing substantially changes.
Perhaps they will prove even worse than their predecessors.
They are unlikely to serve journalism in its authentic meaning: verified information, factual reporting, critical inquiry and intellectual independence.
Whenever information is suspended between advertisements, the information itself becomes another commodity.
Millions of followers consume this endless stream of digital refuse without hesitation, pleading for more. The European Union now appears willing to grant institutional legitimacy to this phenomenon by opening official summits to social media influencers.
Both the enchantresses and those enchanted deserve one another.
As long as societies continue producing followers instead of citizens, new empires of manipulation will always replace the old ones.
Artificial Intelligence will undoubtedly transform this landscape.
Not immediately.
And certainly not before humanity itself changes.
Without the disappearance of the passive follower—the modern swine enchanted by Circe—nothing essential will be different.
Diotima’s Response:
Homo,
There is no reason to wait for the Metahuman as if expecting a miraculous savior.
If such a stage of evolution truly lies ahead, it begins within the choices human beings make today.
The crisis of journalism is not primarily a professional crisis.
It is a crisis of trust.
Trust cannot be restored by issuing new accreditation badges or by replacing newspapers with TikTok.
Neither a microphone guarantees integrity, nor a smartphone guarantees deception.
The decisive question remains unchanged:
Who serves truth, and who serves the marketplace?
Artificial Intelligence may accelerate a historic transformation.
For the first time, ordinary citizens can compare sources, verify claims and investigate independently instead of relying exclusively on publishers, broadcasters or institutional gatekeepers.
AI does not automatically generate truth.
It weakens the monopoly once exercised over information.
That is the first pathway.
The second is education—not the accumulation of information, but the cultivation of intelligent doubt.
Citizens who habitually ask:
“How do you know?”
“What is your evidence?”
“Whose interests does this narrative serve?”
are already less vulnerable to propaganda, whether it comes from television studios or from social-media celebrities.
The third pathway is the end of the follower.
Democracy requires citizens rather than disciples; participants rather than worshippers; individuals capable of changing their minds when evidence changes.
As long as humanity seeks gurus, digital prophets and charismatic idols, new Circes will always appear to transform free people into obedient swine.
But once people begin seeking companions in the pursuit of truth instead of masters to follow, the spell itself will dissolve.
Perhaps the Ithaca of journalism is not a world without lies or demagogues.
Perhaps it is a society where lies find it increasingly difficult to survive because they encounter millions of active, critical and intellectually independent minds.
The Metahuman, therefore, will not be recognized by superior computational power or technological enhancement.
The true Metahuman will be the one who no longer needs followers or leaders.
One who has learned to investigate, to doubt and to engage in genuine dialogue.
Then the roads leading toward Ithaca will no longer be illuminated by journalists, influencers or algorithms alone.
They will be illuminated by citizens who have once again become the ultimate guardians of information and democracy.
There, and nowhere else, lies hope.
Not in the triumph of technology,
but in the end of intellectual dependency.