Greek trajedy

Even by the standards of a culture that doesn't know or care about the difference between celebrity and notoriety, Nektarios-Sotirios Voutas appears to have pulled a pretty sick stunt to insert himself into the story of the jet crash in Greece.

Because it was so quickly exposed, the case of the hoax "farewell" text from Voutas's non-existent cousin is a particularly stark reminder that news media are sloppily vulnerable to abuse by "sources". This unverified story leapt from Greek TV on to front-pages around the world, and was treated as a solid clue about the circumstances of the crash, as well as a piece of stark human drama.

Some reporters made a further logical leap and said many other texts to loved ones were sent by the plane's doomed passengers. A few papers that didn't lead with the poignant SMS used the equally false story that 48 children had died in the crash.

The errors are especially disgraceful in newspapers, given that the accident, on Sunday morning our time, didn't run into a hectic deadline crush. Few journalists even bothered to attribute the tragic-text story (eg "Voutas said"), most just treated it as fact; and they all seemed to think it was someone else's job to see if it were actually true.

Now, the press is far more likely to publish unchecked lies when they come from powerful "reliable sources" (the Garda Press Office, Karl Rove) rather than an unknown punter. But the Voutas hoax does raise some questions about the recent readiness of the professional media, especially with breaking stories such as terrorist attacks or weather disasters, to throw open their famed portals to all-comers. Mostly what those media wanted from the tsunami or the London Underground were photographs, but these can be faked as surely as any tall tale.

Nonetheless, and rather uncomfortably for people with journalism degrees (or guys like Meejit who teach those aspiring to them), the creeping de-professionalism of news-gathering is inevitable and mostly healthy – like any other breakdown of guild mysticism. With the help of technology, journalism in the 21st century will be seen less as an occupational label, the guy with "PRESS" tucked into his hatband, and more as something anyone can do when the inclination combines with the circumstances, and her words and images might be of wider interest.

If such erosion of barriers means that audiences won't be sure who or what to trust – well, that's all the better, because, to date, much of their trust in the likes of RTÉ, the Irish Times or the Washington Post has been sadly misplaced.

Utopia doesn't beckon, and the outlook is far too complex to study with rose-tinted glasses. Amateurs whose work gets used by professional, profit-making media will obviously want to be paid. At least one new web-based service has appeared in Britain in recent weeks promising to act as middleman for "snapparazzi" whose photos, perhaps grabbed on mobile phones, might be wanted by papers (see www.scoopt.com). Since the definition of "newsworthiness" includes both exploding buses and Bertie's mot with no make-up, the vista has potential to appal.

Then there's the problem of quality in genuinely independent, open-access media. Indymedia is a great concept – and Ireland's indymedia.ie executes it as well as any site in the world that Meejit has seen – but the amount of dross that readers must endure if they surf there extensively is bound to be offputting.

New models will emerge. One interesting if predictable innovation, launching soon, is italknews.com, where "citizen journalists" are invited to submit, but their work is honed for publication (and fact-checked!) by professional journalists, and its final status on the site is determined by a vote of other users. It's not perfect, and the idea that "pro knows best", like its business model, may not be sustainable. But it's a first step away from a corrupt media culture.