The myth of media trust
I woke up this morning / to find that we have outlived the myth of trust.
While it could easily be a snippet from a tearoom conversation at any one of a number of New Zealand news outlets, it’s actually a lyric from a lovely but sombre ballad from the self-titled Big-nosed Bard of Barking, Billy Bragg.
Its theme – a man coming to terms with the slow decay of a relationship – isn’t a million miles from how media organisations have been feeling for some time.
Every year, Trust-with-a-capital-T is surveyed. And every year, more or less, the numbers shrink.
Unlike political polls, where there’s a strong argument that the only one that matters is in November, polls about trust in media can have a direct and sometimes chilling effect. State media, in particular, risks losing political support, funding and perhaps even a future when research is telling us that fewer listeners, readers and viewers don’t trust what they’re hearing, reading or seeing.
RNZ listeners are already hearing the effect of this, with announcers, promos and advertising telling us that we should trust trust trust what we hear on 101FM and read on its website.
As an advertising guy, that makes sense. If your brand wants its trust measures to go up, spend time and money telling people that you’re trusted. Next survey: boom!
But is it really that simple?
There’s an enormous difference, I’d argue, between trust in media – which is what the surveys claim to be measuring – and self-reported trust in media.
The difference isn’t trivial.
Trust is a belief. It can’t be seen or measured. Whether someone trusts you or not is something only they know.
Self-reported trust is a different matter. It’s an answer to a question posed by a researcher. It might be a true, open answer to the question. Santa Claus might also be real, and this might also be the Warriors’ year.
More likely, there are other factors at play.
What does telling a researcher, or an online poll, that you trust the media say about you in 2026?
Does it mean you’ve been brainwashed? That you’re one of the “sheeple” your online friends or mates down the pub talk about? Does trusting in the “mainstream media” rather than doing your own research make you appear gullible or just a bit ignorant? Wake up mate, you’re smarter than that!
I suspect that instead of trust in media plummeting in recent years, it’s willingness to say that you trust in media that’s taken a hit.
Saying that you trust the media just isn’t cool.
So where does that leave us? If trust is something secret, locked inside and known only to the individual, can we even measure it?
Probably not. But what we can measure is behaviour.
Actual psychologists will likely shoot me down here, but what little I remember from my degree tells me that the psychological theory of behaviourism could help. Accepting that the “self” is an unknowable, or at least unverifiable “black box,” means that measuring the stuff we can actually see is all we’re left with.
Handily, digital media is easily measured. That means it’s possible see over time where people turn when they need reliable, accurate, trustworthy information.
When people really need to know something, where do they go? When an earthquake hits and there might or might not be a tsunami. When a government is about to be formed, or about to fall. When our team plays their team and we want to know the score.
Answering that question should be easy, but it’s not one that’s been asked enough. There’s plenty of research that reports where people “say” they’ll turn to learn about a breaking news story, but less about actual behaviour.
I’d love to see some research effort put into understanding actual trust in media, rather than just the self-reported version we give so much weight to.
Maybe trust in media is slipping. Maybe it isn’t. What I know is that asking people their opinions isn’t a trustworthy way to measure it.
Originally posted in the New Zealand Herald, 13 July 2026