As the cobbled streets of Perugia filled once again with journalists, students, technologists, and storytellers from around the world, the 2025 edition of the International Journalism Festival (IJF) felt not just timely, but urgently relevant. Each morning, I wandered the winding alleys of this centuries-old city, soaking in views of the Umbrian hills stretching toward the sky. But while the scenery was stunning, the conversations inside the frescoed halls were anything but light, war, climate crisis, AI’s growing influence, Big Tech's unchecked power, and the slow erosion of democracy were the main topics.
This year’s sessions echoed one key message, journalism needs not just to survive, but to find its social purpose again. In a world shaped by algorithms and deepening political divides, simplification isn’t the answer.
Over five sunny days, IJF 2025 was more than a professional gathering, it became a space to pause, reflect, and imagine new possibilities. In a city famous for chocolate and the iconic Baci Perugina, the conversations carried their own kind of bittersweetness. Workshops explored everything from how AI is quietly shaping editorial decisions to the slow decline of local journalism. In between slices of pizza, morning espressos, and afternoon gelatos in Piazza IV Novembre, the future of journalism began to take shape.
Every afternoon, walking down the steep stone streets, careful not to trip over history, I found myself thinking about something familiar to anyone who’s attended a media festival, network fatigue.
It’s that subtle but real exhaustion that comes from too many rushed introductions, overlapping sessions, and surface-level conversations. The cure, I’ve found, is clarity, knowing what you’re looking for and what you bring to the table. Forced connections can be more draining than helpful and sometimes take away from the meaningful ones already forming.
For me, the best conversations didn’t happen on stage, but while walking past Roman ruins, talking about media, politics, and identity with a pistachio gelato in hand. These weren’t just professional exchanges, they were slow, personal, and meaningful. True collaboration, especially in public-interest journalism, starts with genuinely understanding how others think and feel.
Out of the nearly 200 sessions, yes, really, I managed to attend about 20, choosing based on my own focus and the values of the media outlet I represent. One recurring complaint I shared was the packed schedule and short panel times. Still, the content was sharp and essential.
A standout session was How to Save Journalism from Big Tech by Martin Andree. It wasn’t just a critique, it offered a real plan. His five proposals were clear and bold, allowing freedom in link design, making platforms interoperable, separating content from its distribution, capping digital media companies at 30 percent market share, and banning profits from harmful content. Each idea was ambitious but felt practical and worth considering.
Another session that stuck with me was Daniel Nardin’s Climate Change and the Amazon. He cut through the hype already building around COP30, offering a tough but necessary reality check on global climate diplomacy. If you missed it, the IJF YouTube channel has the recordings.
Tech and AI, Frenemy or Foe?
AI is now woven into everything, headlines, newsroom workflows, even the way we frame questions. At least ten sessions at IJF 2025 tackled the role of AI in journalism. Some saw it as a time-saving tool. Others warned about synthetic media and the spread of AI-powered disinformation.
Most discussions leaned toward cautious optimism. One standout resource worth checking out is the Bonn Institute’s Constructive AI Compass guide. It’s one of the few resources that feels genuinely thoughtful.
Despite the weighty topics, the overall vibe wasn’t gloomy. There was a quiet optimism in sessions focused on solutions journalism, cross-border collaboration, and public engagement. That said, the challenges were hard to ignore, fewer grants, the lasting impact of the Trump era on climate journalism, and the urgent need to rebuild public trust.
A running joke popped up across panels, “This won’t help you land a grant”, half-laugh, half-sigh. But beyond the jokes were real ideas, community-supported newsrooms, cooperative business models, and platforms that prioritize local impact over ad revenue.
Like last year’s IPI Congress in Sarajevo, Gaza took center stage at IJF, both in official programming and in the streets. Sessions like #GAZAPROJECT highlighted the dire conditions journalists face in conflict zones. Protests and memorials filled the city’s piazzas, turning this peaceful hilltop town into a space of solidarity and protest.
Though Trump’s possible return loomed over many discussions, Türkiye also came into focus, though briefly, in two powerful sessions, The Mafia Boss, the President and Me with Can Dündar and We’ve Been Here Before with Kadri Gürsel. After his panel, Gürsel told Scrolli, “The West hasn’t exactly discouraged Erdoğan from intensifying his crackdown on opposition voices. But that doesn’t mean protests in Türkiye are waiting for Western cues. These are driven by internal tensions.” His words were a reminder that local dynamics often matter more than international headlines.
Throughout the festival, I had the chance to talk with several experienced media professionals. One was Gökşen Çalışkan of Euractiv, who offered a memorable insight, “IJF is a rare chance for people across the media world, different roles, countries, and experience levels, to come together. We face massive challenges, from AI to burnout to broken business models. Journalism can survive, but only if we treat it as an ecosystem. That means meeting audiences where they are, offering content that matters to them, and building diverse revenue streams.”
It rang true. Despite all the pressure on the industry, the energy in Perugia was vibrant, focused, and hopeful.
Musab Subuh, a climate journalist I spent time with during the festival, shared a similar feeling. “IJF was a place of real connection. I found space to collaborate and learned more about misinformation, AI, and fact-checking”, he said.
And finally, a word for the people who helped everything run smoothly, the volunteers. I met a few of the 50 behind the scenes, including Damiano and Marcrer, both just 16, who had come from nearby cities as part of a school project to practice their English. Their excitement was contagious. They were a quiet but powerful reminder, the future of journalism is already taking shape.
Finally, I must mention the unsung heroes behind this extraordinary five-day whirlwind, the volunteers. I met a few of the fifty who kept the gears running. Among them were Damiano and Marcrer, both just sixteen, who had traveled from nearby cities with a school project to gain experience and practice their English in an international setting. Their enthusiasm was infectious. Their presence was a quiet but powerful reminder that journalism’s future is already in motion.
