This post isn’t going to whine about the state of the industry, and it isn’t going to offer solutions on how to solve the problems that ail newspapers. I’ve done both of those on other occasions. Instead, this is the first of several posts offering suggestions and tips for journalists looking to leave the business before the business forces them out the door.

Just to be clear: I do believe that journalism has a future. However, no one can deny that the next 10 years or so are going to be very tumultuous, and from the way things look, the cuts will keep on coming for quite a while. Even after the industry stabilizes, I don’t think many of those lost jobs are coming back. There are, of course, a good number of journalists who want to tackle that challenge, which is great, and I have a ton of respect for them. Without them, journalism won’t have a future. However, it’s also asinine to expect people, especially those with financial and family obligations, to willingly sacrifice a decade of their lives, perhaps more, to help turn around an industry that treats them like crap and won’t hesitate to cut off their livelihood if it means pushing the profit margin up a few more percentage points. In the face of that, you can’t blame people for throwing up their hands, saying “To hell with this”, and leaving to do something more rewarding with their lives.

But how do you go about doing that? How do you leave behind the passion that drew you to journalism in the first place? How do you go about making a career change mid-life? What skills do you need?

I’ve had some friends who have gone on to do things that are complete departures from journalism. One went to law school, another went to open up his own batting cage business. As for myself, I’ve been trading on the skills I used in journalism — namely writing and design. I’ll try to share some of the things I’ve learned along the way to help those who are looking to transfer the skills that made them good journalists over to other fields.

Thinking About Leaving

Letting Go Is the Hardest Part

More than many other professions, journalism, to the people who practice it, is a calling. As cliche as that sounds, it is true. Otherwise, why would any sane person willingly embrace a field that offers low pay, lots of work, tons of travel, and hellish hours? That passion is what made the job enjoyable despite all the negatives. Unfortunately, it is also what allows management to take advantage of their employees. Where’s the incentive to not pile more work or shabby treatment on your staff when you know that, when push comes to shove, they’ll suck it up and get the job done? The show must go on. The paper has to come out.

When they are at the crossroads of their career, trying to decide whether to flee the industry, many journalists are often held back by their passion for this craft. I know I certainly was. I knew when I got into newspapers that I would want to try my hand at other fields of design eventually before settling in one field, yet my passion for journalism was so great that at 25, even with part of me yearning to take that next step to branch out, I could still see myself working at the paper I was at until I was at least 30. And when I finally decided to leave the industry, and even till today, I can still feel that passion tugging at me at times, trying to lure me back in.

So here’s how you turn away from that passion long enough to listen to logic:

• Shed that cloak of nobility: Journalists like to think of their work as being important to society, to democracy. In some ways, it can be. But don’t let that idea of this being a noble pursuit blind you to the fact that it’s also a job. You don’t get a break from your mortgage lender or power company for helping sustain democracy. When it comes down to it, you are part of a multimillion-dollar corporation whose ultimate goal, as it has been clearly illustrated in the last ten years, is revenue — no different than any other industry.
• Don’t make your job your identity: This happens frequently with journalists, in part because their job consumes so much of their lives. To me, it’s toxic.
• Recognize that journalism isn’t the only job where you can make a difference: Journalists like to talk about how they can make a difference in the world with their work. That’s true, but you can also make a difference in a lot of other fields, sometimes with more tangible results than most journalistic work. My first job after newspapers was designing instructional materials for high school science students, which in my view did a lot more good than all the pages I designed put together. Also recognize that you can make a difference in the world outside of your job, assuming you have a job that would allow you enough time away from it to take up other pursuits (which journalism often doesn’t). If you want to make a difference with your writing and reporting skills, there are also more avenues to do that independently, thanks to the Internet.
• It’s not you; it’s me: Realize that the journalism-journalist relationship is one where the love only flows one way. And just like in dating, that will not end well.

“But …

“I didn’t get into journalism for the money.”

Of course not. You would be an idiot if you did. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t expect a reasonable wage or fair treatment, which are increasingly unlikely as the supply outpaces the demand in the journalism job market. Altruism doesn’t pay bills, buy food, or put kids through college.

“I feel like a sellout.”

Don’t. Instead, feel good that you are doing something that, in the long run, most likely will be better for your sanity and your personal life. You fought the good fight for the Fourth Estate for however many years, and now it’s time to tend to yourself and your family, who, unlike journalism, actually loves you back. There will be people, often bloggers or commenters who have never met or spoken to you, who might say, “Good, get out of the business if you can’t cut it anymore. We don’t need you. Etc.” But for every one of those, there are plenty others who do know you and understand why you are doing it.

“What’s happening in journalism isn’t any more tragic than what’s happening in the auto industry.” OR “We don’t have it so bad. Look at the steel workers.” OR “Journalists are spoiled. My dad pulled 12-hour shifts for 30 years in a factory. Now that’s work.”

I love this self-delusional line of reasoning. So because other people have crappy jobs, it makes it ok that you have a crappy job? I would recommend that auto or steel factory workers get out of those industries too if they can. And yes, journalists are white-collar, but even among white-collar jobs there are good and bad, and guess which end of the spectrum journalists reside in right now.

“But journalism is all I’ve ever pictured myself doing.”

Then picture a little harder. For people whose jobs often require creativity, journalists can sometimes be surprisingly uncreative when it comes to their own careers. If you find yourself wondering what you can do after journalism, think back to the interests you had before you settled on journalism. Or think about what it is about journalism that appeals to you. Is it the writing? The interaction with people? The creativity in putting a page together? Identify it, and then see what other careers will offer that. I can tell you right now that no other single job will offer the combination you find in journalism, but there are many ways to make up for that. For instance, if you like the fact that you could design and do something for the public good as well at a newspaper, look into working at a design firm and volunteering in your free time, or offer your services to nonprofits. And if you really feel the journalism itch, you can scratch it with some freelancing.

“One of my friends is an investment banker/lawyer/businessman making six figures and he is miserable.”

Another commonly used line for self-delusion. You know what that investment banker/lawyer/businessman friend tells his colleagues? “I have this friend who’s a journalist. He gets paid squat, almost never sees his family, and might get laid off soon even though he’s busting his butt and doing good work. I mean, my job can suck sometimes, but I’m glad I’m not in his field.”

And even if that investment banker really is miserable, that just puts him on equal footing with you in terms of misery. Oh, except he gets six figures for his misery.

“I can’t see myself being happy in a desk job.”

Then go get a non-desk job. Frankly, a lot of so-called desk jobs look dull from the outside but can be more interesting when you’re actually doing them. But in any case, the point is to be in a job you’re happy with, which you obviously are not with your current newspaper job.

“I know somebody who left the biz and hates what he’s doing now.”

So does that mean YOU will necessarily hate the next job you take? I know plenty of people who have left the biz, and while they may not all love their current jobs, almost to a man they like it better than their last newspaper job. Yes, there is a risk, but that’s the nature of the game. Besides, it’s not like you are in a fabulous situation right now, otherwise you won’t be seriously contemplating a career change. Fear of landing in a bad situation is not a good reason to stay in a bad situation. If you jump and land in a bad job, then jump again until you find a good one.

• Coming in part 2: Alright, you’ve badgered me into deciding to leave the biz. So how do I approach a job search?
• Read the rest of the series