Don't kick the bucket yet

The local journalists, whenever they pay a visit to their colleagues abroad, often ask them (usually hesitatingly and just a moment before parting) an "indecent" question: "How much is your average salary?". It is probably a sort of a way to let off some steam – in the sense: "no wonder it is easy for them to adhere to professional standards with all the money they make"; or: "it is easy for them to engage in investigative journalism since they can make a decent living off their salary..."

Since I have already become accustomed to the ritual, I have asked the indecent question while sitting in an editorial office of a daily newspaper in Luxembourg. The room did not look like an editorial office: it smelled clean and rich, the hallways seemed hospital-like, and my host and colleague looked like a model for a fashion magazine. Still, the reply was incredible: "It depends, but it amounts to 3,000-6,000 euros on average." Earlier that day, in the premises of the European Investment Bank, we were told that their employees earn between 1,300 and 6,000 euros, or up to 18,000 euros in the case of senior officials. This means that the average journalist in Luxembourg makes as much money as some of the highly-ranked personnel in the EIB.

According to official data, the average journalist in Serbia earns less money than the average salary in the country: very few of them have four-figure salaries (expressed in euros), while those who reach the magic limit of 500 euros consider themselves lucky. The salary of the average journalist in Serbia is not comparable to those of bankers, but to the salary of office clerks or, in some cases, of coffee makers or cleaners.

Of course, it can hardly be expected that Serbian journalists have salaries comparable to journalists in come of the richer and more civilized parts of the planet.

Unlike the journalists in such places, Serbian journalists target (or try to target) the audience that is not used to everyday consumption of the media, that is mostly media-illiterate, that accepts information without a critical approach, and – if at all possible – without any expenses involved... All of this means that hardly anyone bothers to actually buy newspapers, that every investigative project is overshadowed by blazing headlines and obscenity, and that not a single interview has been made whose rating would exceed the ratings of "The Farm" reality show or the series about selection of the personal assistant to Seka Aleksic, a singer.

Unlike the journalists in other places, Serbian journalists work in an environment where poverty has been present for a long time, where an individual is subjected to the system (and not the other way around), and where talent and hard work are not highly valued.

Considering all these factors, it is not surprising that local media owners treat their workforce like expendable goods. In Serbia, the price of journalistic work is not defined – whether for full-time or part-time work. Social security is non-existent – thousands of colleagues have lost their pension and health insurance. Journalists who fall ill and cannot work any longer are left to their own fate.

At the same time, journalists – whose role is to work in the interest of the public, to expose injustice and to make noise – have been consistently quiet for years.

We only raise our voice in cafes, in the company of "our own". We only complain at moments of utter despair, usually among persons who cannot help us nor punish us for our disobedience. We have not made an efficient trade union, we only engage in theoretical discussions within the confines of journalistic associations, and we have never organized a collective strike. We live and survive like cowards – not courageous enough to raise our voice; not strong enough to resist or rise up; too suspicious to be able to make a difference, even if we could join our forces together.

If we get lucky and become sought-after in the job market, we often accept a dozen of various assignments at the same time in order to survive. If not, we work for a nominal pay and wait for the brighter tomorrow to materialize.

And we continue like this, for as long as we can.

Until we break down, exhausted, tired and useless.

Until we are irretrievably exploited by the owners, managers, and various legitimate and illegitimate forces that rule the life in editorial offices.

It's a long way to Luxembourg.

Tamara Skrozza

About the authors

MC Newsletter, May 21, 2010