In the shifting sands of media evolution, where algorithms now dictate relevance and virality masquerades as value, the Philippine Daily Inquirer stands as a monument to a time when journalism was not merely a profession but a public trust. To label its stewards as “dinosaurs” is not only a linguistic slight but a philosophical failure. It betrays a shallow understanding of legacy, of labor, and of the quiet heroism that once defined the newsroom. The recent cover story, though cloaked in critique, inadvertently affirms what it seeks to diminish: that the Inquirer’s greatness was forged not in code, but in conscience.
Letty Jimenez Magsanoc, the Inquirer’s formidable editor in chief, did not merely lead a newspaper; she led a movement. Her editorial decisions were not dictated by metrics but by moral clarity. To suggest she was resistant to digital transformation is to ignore the nuance of her leadership. She embraced innovation, but never at the expense of integrity. Her vision was not to chase trends but to shape discourse. If she and her team were “dinosaurs,” then they were the kind that moved mountains.
The chest-thumping narrative of digital deliverance, as presented in an article profoundly written by Rosario A. Garcellano, reeks of self-congratulation. It is a tale told by one who confuses disruption with depth, and who mistakes proximity to power for perspective. The anecdotes offered about inaccessible columns and paywalls are not indictments of incompetence but reflections of the economic realities that all serious journalism must navigate. The Inquirer’s journey was not a stumble but a stand.
To reduce the transition to digital as a triumph over obsolescence is to erase the human cost of change. The silence of the union, the anxiety of the uninvited, the heartbreak of the displaced are not footnotes but chapters in a larger story of institutional transformation. The Inquirer did not fail its people; it faced the brutal arithmetic of survival. And in doing so, it chose dignity over expedience, offering severance not as a dismissal but as a recognition of service.
The critique’s tone, patronizing, smug, and curiously performative, reveals a troubling absence of empathy. It is easy to celebrate change when one is not its casualty. It is easy to mock legacy when one has not borne its weight. The Inquirer’s veterans did not resist progress; they resisted erasure. They understood that journalism is not merely about access but accountability. And that accountability cannot be automated.
Letty Jimenez Magsanoc did not need to be “set aright.” She was the axis. The testimonilas on LJM’s work ethics: her late-night vigils, her editorial rigor, her refusal to bend to political pressure were not the habits of a relic but the rituals of a revolutionary. Her leadership was not about being “nice” to dinosaurs; it was about being fierce for the truth. If she was a dinosaur, Garcillano was right that LJM was a T. Rex: majestic, unyielding, and utterly irreplaceable.
The Inquirer’s legacy is not in its format but in its fortitude. It faced down advertising boycotts, political intimidation, and the slow bleed of readership with a tenacity that digital-first evangelists often lack. It chose excellence over expedience, depth over virality, and truth over trend. Its greatness was not accidental but intentional, which was cultivated by editors who understood that journalism is a public good, not a product.
Veterans of the Inquirer are not watching from the sidelines but are bearing witness. They are the custodians of a tradition that cannot be coded into algorithms or optimized for engagement. Their silence is not acquiescence but mourning. Their absence from the new workforce is not irrelevance but reverence, most specifically for a time when journalism was not just content but conviction.
Inquiring of Inquirer is not a nostalgic exercise but a necessary reckoning. It is a reminder that progress without principle is perilous, and that innovation without introspection is hollow. The Inquirer’s story is not one of extinction but one of evolution. And in that evolution, let us not forget the giants who walked before us, who built with ink and integrity what we now consume with clicks.
Let the digital age come. Let the algorithms churn. But let us never forget: it was not code that built the Inquirer; it was character.