Political intimidation, ownership pressures, the rise of AI, and economic constraints are calling into question the future of press freedom – nowhere more conspicuously than in the United States, where these forces have combined to fuel growing anxiety about the fate of an institution that has been fundamental to democracies everywhere. At this year’s International Press Institute World Congress, Project Syndicate Deputy Managing Editor Rachel Danna sat down with Martin Baron, former executive editor of the Washington Post, to discuss the state – and fate – of journalism today. Project Syndicate: You’ve said that journalism’s core mission is to hold powerful institutions to account. In today’s climate, in which media owners, particularly in the US, fear political retaliation, how can editorial independence be maintained? Martin Baron: Journalists must insist on their editorial independence. That’s the first thing: not to concede anything, and to make it clear that their job is to report on what’s happening – what their government is up to, and what the most powerful institutions and individuals in their countries are doing, for good and for ill. The core of our mission is to hold the powerful to account and listen to people who would otherwise go unheard. The alternative is to become either stenographers or propagandists. James Madison, the principal author of the US Constitution, talked about the importance of freely examining public figures and government measures. I always focus on the word “examining,” because it means to investigate, inspect, and assess – the opposite of stenography and propaganda. America’s founders wanted a check on government. They wanted somebody to guard against corruption and abuse of power, and we should live up to those assignments. But ownership remains a point of vulnerability for media outlets. There’s no perfect form of ownership – they all come with pressures, especially when owners have other commercial interests. These pressures have only grown since Donald Trump returned to the White House this year, willing and eager to target those interests. Owners who yield do a disservice to the journalists who work for them and to democracy itself. Their primary goal should be to defend the rights that allowed their media businesses to exist in the first place. You said that you don’t think there’s a “perfect form of ownership,” and considering your experience following Amazon founder Jeff Bezos’s purchase of the Washington Post, you may know this firsthand. But are there other models? Should the media be profit-driven, or should it aspire to be more like a public utility? Are there different models we should be exploring that might work in the US or elsewhere? I haven’t seen anything that’s very promising. Joseph Stiglitz sort of advocated government funding during his talk at the IPI’s World Congress, but I think that’s a major trap. Public broadcasters in the US received government funding, and Trump used it as a way to clobber them. Trump and state officials aligned with him would use government funding as a cudgel to pressure media outlets, when what we need to do is eliminate sources of – or potential sources of – pressure so we can operate with independence. That requires finding a way to be self-sustaining, whether as a nonprofit or as a commercially oriented enterprise. Many independent media organisations around the world, operating in very challenging environments, have been the recipients of American assistance through USAID. Now that USAID has been shut down, they are not getting that money, creating a huge crisis for them. Other outlets have been financed by philanthropic organisations, and they are finding that funding has dried up as well. That is particularly true of news organisations operating in exile or in countries like El Salvador, Venezuela, and Myanmar. Suppose US media organisations relied on government funding. In such a case, Trump would insist that they adhere to the standards he has set, just as he is doing with other recipients of public funding, like universities and school districts. And his standard for the media is to serve as his propaganda outlet. He does not want a free and independent press. The only press he considers legitimate is the kind that repeats what he says word for word. Given this context, and drawing on your experience leading the Washington Post during Trump’s first term, what do you think the media got right – and what did it miss – in covering a president openly hostile to the press? What do you think of the coverage of the second Trump presidency so far? For the most part, the press has done a really good job, both during the first term and now in the second. We know a lot about what happened during the first Trump presidency. We knew much of it at the time, and we know even more now. The same is true today: every day, there is another revelatory report about what’s happening in this administration. Many front-line journalists, and the editors who work directly with them, are committed to holding the government to account – to finding out what this administration is really up to, who’s influencing it, and how its policies are affecting people. I deeply admire them for it. The real failure regarding Trump’s first term actually came before he became a candidate. We didn’t do a good enough job of understanding how we could end up with a president like Trump. We didn’t understand America well enough. We didn’t spend enough time traveling around the country, listening to people’s grievances, and explaining them to others. We still don’t do enough of that. The press needs to serve as a bridge between communities, helping people better understand one another and what they’re going through. That requires reporting without a trace of contempt or condescension, grounded in real empathy. It’s also important to remember that most people don’t spend their days thinking about politics or democracy. They’re focused on making a living, ensuring their kids get a good education, and maintaining access to health care. We need to understand why people feel these things are under threat, why they believe they’re worse off than before, why their kids have fewer opportunities, and why the social problems in their communities are not being addressed. So, how should journalists approach the coverage of populist leaders who actively seek to delegitimize the press? How do you present both sides, or adhere to the cherished principle of impartiality, when one side is clearly lying? You’ve talked about the idea of “objective reality” in journalism. How should journalism today reflect this idea? I have long been an advocate for what’s been known as objectivity in journalism. I know that word can make a lot of people uneasy, but I think it’s been grossly mischaracterised. What I mean by “objectivity” is that reporters should start their work knowing they don’t know everything. That’s the whole reason for reporting. Reporting means finding out about things you don’t know about, or don’t know enough about. So, we should do our jobs without thinking we have all the answers. Instead, we should be focused on asking the right questions. Objectivity – approaching every story with humility, acknowledging what we don’t know, and being willing to learn – is how we preserve our independence. But objectivity is not “both-sidesism.” It doesn’t mean pretending every issue is split 50-50. If the evidence points in one direction, we should say so, rather than pretending otherwise. Only after we’ve done rigorous reporting can we tell people that what we’ve found is true. “Truth” is a big word, so I’m reluctant to use it. The goal is simply to get as close as possible to reality and understand the facts. And to do that, in any field – whether you’re a judge, a scientist, or a journalist – you have to begin with a hypothesis but keep an open mind, knowing it could be wrong. People used to describe journalism as the “first rough draft of history,” and that remains true: it is a draft, always incomplete and constantly evolving. I often think we’re looking at the world through a keyhole; we don’t see everything, yet sometimes we can push the door open a little and get a clearer view of what’s really going on. If we’re skilled and lucky, we can swing that door wide open and see the whole picture. That doesn’t happen every time, but with each discovery, the draft becomes more refined and our confidence in it grows.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251215141240_653d1ccac6b20b3d0d51e587477d90edc641f7ab4d11a8db54269e0645bb4547.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251215141240_653d1ccac6b20b3d0d51e587477d90edc641f7ab4d11a8db54269e0645bb4547" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Martin Baron"><figcaption>Martin Baron</figcaption></figure>  It seems that many people today are eager to tell others what they know – or think they know – despite having no background or formal training in journalism. Influencers and “content creators” have built huge followings on Substack and social media. What does this mean for the future of the profession? I’m not attached to the traditional ways of doing things. Technology has fundamentally changed how people consume information, and that naturally changes how we convey what we know, or think we know. This shift has created an entire ecosystem of influencers, Substackers, YouTubers, and podcasters. The core principle everyone should follow is verification. Is the information you’re communicating authentic and accurate? Alternatively, is it misinformation, or even disinformation? Upholding that standard is critical. Everyone in this business has a duty to share only what they know to be true. Passing along information you haven’t verified is simply irresponsible. Share it only if it’s been checked and comes from trustworthy sources. But how do you do that? That’s the hard part. You need to rely on sources that have proven to be reliable over time. As much as people criticise traditional news organisations, when there’s a natural disaster, guess where they go for information? Whether it’s a hurricane, an earthquake, fires, floods, or war, people turn to the traditional news organisations. That suggests that they believe the information they find there will be accurate. What opportunities and risks does generative AI present? Is this, in your view, a turning point for news media and for journalists? People always sound wiser when they say everything is terrible. Doomsayers tend to sound more profound, and people are more inclined to believe them than the optimists. AI, of course, is a powerful tool capable of many great things. But like every technology, it comes with risks as well as benefits. Social media is a good example: it connected us in unprecedented ways while also deepening polarization. The same is true of AI. It’s an extraordinarily powerful reporting tool that can make journalists more efficient by allowing them to sift through vast amounts of data. Reporters have already used it to analyse bomb strikes, identify the weapons used, and piece together what actually happened. At the same time, the risks are enormous. AI makes it easy to fabricate images, video, and audio. You can hear a recording that perfectly imitates someone’s voice – tone, cadence, and speech patterns. It’s fake, but people may still believe it. Or they may conclude that distinguishing truth from falsehood is impossible and not even worth trying. That’s a precarious position. It threatens not just the press but democracy itself in ways we have yet to grapple with. When we can’t even agree on a basic set of facts, progress becomes impossible. That uncertainty enables people to exploit the situation for personal, commercial, and political gain. This is already happening in US politics. An unflattering image appears, and a public figure says, “That wasn’t me. That was AI.” You hear their voice on a recording, and they say the same thing. Some denials may even be true. But as fake images and audio spread, even authentic ones will be dismissed. People will claim that anything that contradicts their narrative or casts them in a bad light was fabricated. Without a shared sense of what’s real, we lose any firm foundation for public debate. You’ve warned that democracy cannot survive without a free press, which underpins many other freedoms. What reforms or protections do you think are most urgently needed to safeguard press freedom around the world? First, it’s important to make clear that free-speech rights are not reserved solely for the press. They belong to everyone. In many countries today, including the US, even business executives are afraid to speak openly for fear of government reprisal. What we need is a broad coalition of people who understand that free expression is essential to a functioning society. Clearly, there have been many encroachments on free-speech rights in the US recently, and I worry about where they may lead. But we still have judges who recognise the importance of those rights, and many who continue to stand up for the rule of law. That’s the model other countries should aspire to: constitutional protections for free speech, judicial systems that enforce those protections, and governments that respect them. What lessons can emerging democracies draw from US efforts to protect press freedom and uphold institutional resilience at a time of democratic backsliding? You can’t just declare yourself a democracy and sit back. The greatest defender of US democracy has always been its institutions, and Trump is systematically trying to destroy them, with far too much success. Yet they still exist, and they continue, in their own way, to push back against these assaults. That is the key lesson for emerging democracies: you must defend your institutions and protect their independence while recognising how easily they can be subverted. People around the world are horrified by what’s happening in the US precisely because they saw it as a bastion of free expression and the rule of law. Emerging democracies should remember how fragile these pillars really are and resist the temptation to take them for granted. In the US, we’ve done that for too long, which is why so many people once asked, “How much damage can Trump really do?” We took the press freedom for granted. But many more people now understand that the press is often the only institution willing to listen to them, investigate wrongdoing, and hold the powerful to account. And they know that if the press isn’t there, none of that work gets done. And yet the press is increasingly demonised and blamed for various crises around the world. There is a notion that the news media finds itself in its current predicament because it has somehow failed. Do you think this criticism is fair? Has the media done a different – or lesser – job in recent years? It seems to me that many of these criticisms come from people who claim the press is irrelevant and then insist that, had we covered something differently, the outcome somehow would have been different. I don’t know how to reconcile those two ideas. If we’re irrelevant, why would our coverage make a difference? Often, the people who criticise the press haven’t actually looked into what we reported. In many cases, we did cover those issues – people simply weren’t paying attention because they didn’t see them as urgent at the time. When something doesn’t feel urgent, it’s easy to ignore. Some people seem to think the media runs the world. In the US, for example, there’s a notion that the press somehow got Trump elected in 2016. That’s complete nonsense. There was extensive reporting on Trump. At the Post, we published an entire series on his personal and professional history. We wrote so much that it eventually became a book: Marc Fisher and Michael Kranish’s Trump Revealed. If you read that book now, it’s striking how prescient it was. Yet people say, “You didn’t write about this,” or “Why didn’t you tell us that before he got elected?” Many of these criticisms just aren’t borne out by the facts. More often than not, the issues people say we ignore were, in fact, covered – and covered thoroughly. Or else we simply didn’t know then what we know now. Over time, new information emerges, documents surface, and more people come forward. So how can news organisations get people to pay attention, especially younger audiences? You’ve said that without younger readers, journalism has no future. What strategies do you believe are most effective in reaching them without compromising journalistic rigor? I’m not sure we’re communicating in the ways people actually want to receive information. People read less nowadays. They’re more passive consumers; they don’t want to go searching for information. We live in a digital age in which more people get their news visually or through audio rather than text. If I had my choice, it would be different, but that’s the way it is. We should study what works for audiences and apply those lessons ourselves, even if it makes traditional journalists uncomfortable. A journalist recently asked me, “What should I be focusing on? What should I be learning?” I told him, “Short-form video.” You’re a long-form writer? Great, you should still learn how to do short-form video. You may not want to, but you need to provide a tasting menu that makes people want the full course. Most people are not going to read a 10,000-word story or a ten-part series. They don’t have the time or patience. That said, merely adapting isn’t enough. We have to embrace these new formats with enthusiasm, because they’re teaching us how to reach people in a world where communication habits have changed dramatically. We could sit around blaming audiences for the current state of journalism, but that would be a waste of time. © <a href="https://www.project-syndicate.org/">Project Syndicate</a> Martin Baron is a former executive editor of the Washington Post.

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Defending press freedom in the age of Trump

What does a journalist do when young protesters are shot in front of her? Does she do her job and stay neutral? Can you stay neutral?&nbsp; As protests engulfed Kathmandu, Nepal's journalists found themselves reporting a story that was personal. While doing their job, some of them were even targeted by mobs.&nbsp; Dart Asia Pacific Fellow <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/arunkarki/" target="_blank">Arun Karki</a> visited their newsrooms and spoke with his colleagues on their experience of reporting the GenZ protests that erupted on 8 September. These are the first-hand accounts of journalists who witnessed the turmoil in the city they call home. Sunita Karki was at a workshop in a hotel on 8 September. She saw the first waves of protests through hotel windows. Curfew alerts flooded her phone, a vehicle belonging to a human rights group sat burning across the road, young boys were taking their wounded friends on motorbikes to the Everest Hospital, and police were beating a teenager with hands raised up.&nbsp; “I cried a lot,” she said, but the tears were not out of fear -- they were because she felt guilt. “I couldn’t write the news. We were witnessing these scenes from a five-star hotel.” By evening, the death toll had reached 19. On 9 September at about 3:35 p.m. &nbsp;her outlet, the Annapurna Post's office in Tinkune, Kathmandu, was set on fire. Staff had to leave the building as parts of the newsroom burnt down.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250924040948_e1cc49c9e4fcc4bd4cd3c0163c782fc4e9956bf633cff7b53a63cf8e2dd74cff" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Dart Centre Asia Pacific"> </figure>  When she knew her office was burning, she anxiously told her husband that she would resign from the job: "If we have to hide our identification cards in every protest, what kind of journalist am I?" she asked herself. She filed a story the next day, but her emotions kept bouncing between that of a journalist’s duty and shock. She said that in moments like this, it’s hard to feel truly neutral. After watching the police beat people, she felt a strong urge to step in, not just stand back and report. The first real calm came later, when people came to the street and lit small candles together. “This was a sort of victory procession. I felt some relief after brutal days,” she said. <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/angaddhakal/" target="_blank">Angad Dhakal</a> a photojournalist who works at Kantipur National Daily, was standing outside his office building when protesters stormed in and set parts of it on fire. He had already been informed that protesters were planning to torch his office building and &nbsp;rushed to his office hoping to save his hard drives containing ten years of photography work. He failed. He raised his camera and "forcefully" pressed the shutter - more to document the scene than out of "professional enthusiasm or duty".&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250924040948_ebafaacb85c4ea045c41f2c63f1eff06fee9a4ddb5fbf419724e1a5d533781fa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  “My office was burning. What should I photograph?” he recalled. A few moments later, a protester noticed the “PHOTO” label on his yellow Press jacket. Dhakal deflected it by saying he was an early career freelancer and YouTuber. So that protesters wouldn't find out, he went to one corner and took his jacket off. When it comes to covering street protests, &nbsp;Angad usually stands near the police because it feels safer. But on 8 September, fire and gunshots made even that area unsafe. A rubber bullet hit his friend Dipendra Dhungana that badly injured him.&nbsp; He thought, “Where do we go now? If we stay here, we’ll be hit.” After witnessing two days of protests, violence, and killings, and seeing his own office burning, he couldn't sleep for days. The same afternoon that government buildings burned and Kantipur was attacked, a message in a protest Discord forum talked openly of 'attacking Kantipur'.&nbsp; Rumours spread to other outlets. Outside OnlineKhabar's office, where <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/article/edit/7376157229248528384/?author=urn%3Ali%3Afsd_company%3A79132377#" target="_blank">Gaurav Pokharel</a> works, the newsroom manager saw “very suspicious people were walking around”. They lowered blinds, avoided windows, locked the front gate and dispersed staff to other places across the city. The outlet was threatened and effectively locked down, but not torched. Pokharel hid his press ID. “ I never showed the ID card. Sometimes I had to enter the crowd shouting slogans, just to blend in among the protesters,” he said. He watched people fall under gunfire, he helped pull one surrounded journalist out of a hostile crowd.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250924040948_3b335eee57280373cb51f460534ca4476df23f89c787ba9e4a66d116a537b1a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1333" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="It is hard to feel neutral NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GAURAV POKHAREL</figcaption> </figure>  As a freelancer, Gaurav also contributed articles for international outlets. Later, while transcribing an interview of a young protest organiser, he wrote to his editor at an international outlet : “This was very hard to write. I cried many times while doing it.” He had been working at a stretch for days battling bouts of exhaustion and low blood pressure.&nbsp; Protesters vandalised and set fire within the Singha Darbar complex housing Nepal Television and Radio Nepal. They tried to disrupt public broadcasting.&nbsp; Surendra Paudyal began the day with his press ID hanging on his neck, thinking it would let him move freely. But when he reached Singha Darbar around 3:30PM, the situation felt dangerous.&nbsp; He put the ID in his pocket. When asked what mattered most, he answered without pause: life comes first. In that moment, he felt real fear and a strong duty to protect his team.&nbsp; His focus narrowed to basic things: stay calm, find exits, get everyone out safely. Later, they were able to keep the 8 pm news on air through a regional link. He felt mixed emotions and a sense of relief that the broadcast continued, but also sadness and anger that their own studio had come under attack. Reprinted with permission from the Dart Centre Asia Pacific, a regional hub that provides trauma-informed support and advice to journalists.

"It is hard to feel neutral"

On September 9th, Dashrath Rai from Kantipur TV was reporting from the Lalitpur Satdobato area, when the station’s van with the camera crew, was stopped by protesters twice. “Kantipur Murdabad” the men shouted, and some other men in the crowd showed up to lead them away to make way for the TV van. As someone who spent about 14 years at KTV, I worried for my former colleagues. On September 8, cameraman Shyam Shrestha Dai had been injured during the shooting at the parliament, where 19 protesters were killed. The death toll would rise later to 72. As the reports of arson from different parts of the city came in, I texted my former colleague Rupesh Shrestha, Deputy News Chief at KTV, who was reporting from the streets. Stay safe! He said: Huss, didi. Three hours later, he was injured in an attack at KTV. The station was preparing for the 2PM bulletin when the attacks began. First, they pelted stones, then stormed the office. “We had been alerted of an imminent attack, but we were busy working and didn’t have the time to get away,” Sabina Karki, Presenter and Reporter, says. “I didn’t panic at first and thought we would be able to leave.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250915150928_94e82aa9ccb550abce0f8f6b50c2f29c592cd7fdf51adaf4113b6e9dffc780c9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250915150928_94e82aa9ccb550abce0f8f6b50c2f29c592cd7fdf51adaf4113b6e9dffc780c9" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Kantipur TV’s September storm"> <figcaption>All photos: RUPESH SHRESTHA</figcaption> </figure>  Soon after the attacks began, the staff tried to get out of the building. By the time they arrived on the ground floor, it was in shambles. “I thought of hiding in the toilet on the ground floor, but my colleague Surendra Kattel said, if this floor is gutted, we’ll never get out. So we went back upstairs and to the studio building [using the bridge that connects the two buildings]. We alerted colleagues at the News Control Room (NCR) who had no idea what was going on outside,” Sabina says. The staff looking for cover, converged outside the NCR and tried different exit doors but the doors didn’t give. News Chief Bijaya Poudel had to smash the glass door of the studio building so everyone could get out. He was hurt in the process. “Once outside, we saw people had big sticks, knives and someone even had a gun. I felt like I was in a movie scene or perhaps a war zone. We were so helpless. We didn’t know what they would do to us. We stood still,” Sabina recalls. “And then a stranger grabbed my hand and said get out of here and dragged me by the hand and left me outside the office gate.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250915150928_5554643519fe1870bbd2852a9fa233f3dcee5a0ba74db4140550dca6f3358610.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250915150928_5554643519fe1870bbd2852a9fa233f3dcee5a0ba74db4140550dca6f3358610" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Kantipur TV’s September storm"> </figure>  Some others were able to leave with Sabina. They pushed and jostled past protesters to get away from the building but when they tried to check on colleagues, armed men stopped them and made them leave. They ran past Kantipur Hospital and escaped into the inner lanes, navigating scenes of vandalism on the streets. A police station had been attacked. They sought shelter at a random, private home where Sabina waited for almost two hours and then shifted to a colleague's house to shelter for another couple of hours, before she was able to get home that night. “I couldn’t process anything. After I reached home, I felt scared.” Rupesh, who was working on a special editorial when the attack happened, was one of the last to leave the station building. As someone who had been on TV a lot, covering some major political events in the recent past, he became an easy target. “I had been doing live TV, so I was still wearing my studio attire and that might have made it easy for them to identify me,” Rupesh explains. “I was leaving through the gate when they started to hit me. My glasses fell and punches rained down on me. Some colleagues put their palms together and asked the vandals to let them go. They also told me to say sorry. And I said, why must I apologise when I haven’t done anything wrong? They hit me some more. I raised my arms in surrender.” They pulled his studio jacket off him, then yanked off his tie and dragged him away from the building, from where he was finally allowed to go. Rupesh found safety at someone's private home, from where he tried to contact colleagues, who had all fled in different directions. His phone died and it was 7:30PM when a colleague was finally able to help him get home. The attackers kept returning until midnight in installments, destroying more property and torching the building. Rupesh has a fractured nose from the attack and his face was swollen for days. His body is sore. His car was reduced into a skeleton. For the first two days, he did not want to speak to the world. He could not wrap his head around the violence. “At first we weren’t sure whether to transmit or not. Everything was gone and it felt like an impossible task. I had no confidence, I felt scared. How do we broadcast from the ashes, a masan? But then I thought, if we don’t do our jobs, who will?”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250915150928_a4d508f9f974663a72b13c90c834e650b9a1b9fbde121de87b2f587a7edce45b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250915150928_a4d508f9f974663a72b13c90c834e650b9a1b9fbde121de87b2f587a7edce45b" data-rendition-name="original" width="960" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kantipur TV’s September storm"> </figure>  The team sat down and worked out what they needed to get on the air again. Since the news studio building had been damaged, they decided to transmit from the scene of the wreckage. They retrieved just enough UPS batteries for one operation. Four devices with a newsroom network system support the current function. Battery back up goes out as soon as bright lights use them up and the teleprompter does not work. When KTV started broadcasting from the debris, some called it a stunt, and others called it cool. “Currently, salary and insurance issues persist but the owners have said they will address them,” Rupesh says, who has spent 19 years with Kantipur, punctuated by two brief departures and has seen many incidents of vandalism. “We hope incidents like this will not repeat.” During the April 2006 street protests, hundreds of people had stopped outside the Kantipur complex in Tinkune to clap and show gratitude for the good journalism it had done. I worked there at the time and I remember looking out the window, tears of gratitude streaming down my face. The same establishment received a different kind of treatment this time. Attack on the media is an attack on democracy and this calls for probe followed by action.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250915150932_90fe8832022207cc856bfa9fe2525605f05f13594f9ecadbe5f47b0e84e0d4bb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250915150932_90fe8832022207cc856bfa9fe2525605f05f13594f9ecadbe5f47b0e84e0d4bb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Kantipur TV’s September storm"> <figcaption>Sabina Karki and colleagues retrieving their belongings. Bijay Poudel, far left, in the photo.</figcaption> </figure>  While media houses are also about their owners and their advertisers, they are mostly about the journalists who run them, giving up their lives to uphold high journalism standards. Kantipur Media Group has had many journalists over the years, who have taken stands for the nation and its people. “We already know this wasn’t an attack by GenZ. This is the handiwork of people with personal vendetta. We already know the protest was infiltrated. This is the work of those who didn’t understand journalists are also people just doing their jobs,” Sabina says. When Sabina came back to the office after the curfews were in place and things had calmed down, she wanted to sit down on the rubble and weep. “Journalists operate on a small salary. Some of us have lost our life’s savings in this attack.” The KTV staff is traumatised. Sabina says she is frightened of loud sounds and strangers. “But at times like this, it’s better to work than to just wait in distress.”

Pratibha Tuladhar

Kantipur TV’s September storm

I was asked to give a presentation at the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-present-and-future-of-news">Himal Media Mela</a> on 25 July on the ethical and productive use of AI in journalism. I am using the first of this new monthly Technocrat column in Nepali Times to say what I did not have time for at my session about real dangers, real potentials, and hard-won lessons about AI, journalism, and ethics.
I’m not a natural public speaker, and a member of the audience last week told me I sounded like I was chewing gum. True, I mumble, and often lose my train of thought. But one does not need to be a great orator to get the message across. You just need to care deeply and speak the truth.
Nepali Times readers will have seen the supplement in last week’s edition in both print and online that carried a year-by-year summary from 2000 to 2025. I am told the five-member newsroom staff took weeks to put it all together.
They did a great job, but I used ChatGPT’s plus feature Deep Research to crawl 25 years of archives to produce similar content in a few hours with workable links and all the right references.&nbsp;
True, the text needed some fine tuning, but if this sort of normally exhausting human work can save time and energy then AI can be an amazing asset. &nbsp;
But many AI enthusiasts are dumbing down by using image and video generators, and wasting their credits. This is causing AI fatigue among young people on digital networking sites.
Before using AI effectively, we must first understand its true cost. The glossy marketing of AI tools hides the dark side of the deep learning machine underneath, a system built on a foundation of our work, often taken without our knowledge or consent. And you thought, all those words and sentences were AI magic!
AI is a hungry beast voraciously devouring whatever you post. Every article, every photograph, every personal post, every comment you make is raw material for training the next generation of AI models. It does not matter if you gave permission. Nobody is asking.&nbsp;
AI does not need permission to train itself using my sentences from the digital version of this column.
This is not 'fair use'. It is exploitation on an industrial scale. The very soul of our work is being strip-mined to build a technology that profits from our labour without credit, compensation, or consent.
And then there is the danger from deep fake that has moved from a niche experiment to an everyday threat. It is easy if you know the tricks for anyone to clone a voice, fake a video, or create a false event so realistic it can fool even experts.&nbsp;
Content Scrapers
AI is not a neutral force. It is a tool for scammers, a weapon to deny crimes, erase real incidents, and destroy reputations overnight. Teenage girls have been blackmailed with fake videos. In India and Bangladesh, politicians have seen their words twisted to incite chaos.
The scariest outcome is not just the production of individual fakes, it is the erosion of all trust. When ‘anything can be faked’, who can prove if they are telling the truth? The greatest risk is not that people will believe fake content, but that they will stop believing any content, undermining our shared foundation of reality.&nbsp;
As journalists, we risk becoming unwitting amplifiers of these falsehoods if we are not equipped to detect and expose them. AI is a stereotyping machine that amplifies our worst biases.&nbsp;
Prompts on platforms are sexualised, gendered, or reinforce harmful ethnic stereotypes. Many women participate in this cycle, sometimes out of curiosity, unconsciously reproducing the very biases inherent in patriarchal societies.
The faces of children are now circulating in AI-generated images worldwide, stripped of context, consent, or protection. A simple search for ‘Nepali or Indian or White girl’ on an AI image site brings up content no parent would ever want to see.&nbsp;
This is not just a privacy issue, it is a violation of dignity and safety. We make it easy for ‘content scrapers’ by posting photos and videos of our children on Tiktok.&nbsp;
Faced with these realities, we cannot afford to be silent. Indifference is not an option, it is complicity. Fortunately, there is a quiet but growing resistance among artists, musicians, and photographers. But journalists, the very people who create the facts and narratives that train AI, have been too slow to join the fight. &nbsp;
Naresh Newar is a writer on strategic communications and Artificial Intelligence and content specialist.

Being intelligent about journalism

Nepali Times was born at the dawn of the new millennium. It started publishing online in May 2000 before the #1 print edition in the week of 19-25 July 2000. But a month before that, there was a <a href="https://himalaya.socanth.cam.ac.uk/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_000.pdf">practice #0</a> which had a Publisher’s Note titled ‘The Freedom To Be Fair’ on page 1. Here is an excerpt:&nbsp; ‘It was a journalist who once said that journalists are people without any ideas, but with an ability to express them. These are cynical times, and it is people in media who are most cynical about the media. For too long journalists have taken objectivity as our main mantra, forgetting fairness.&nbsp; Objectivity is not having to make up your mind about anything, fairness is hearing all sides. Globally, and within countries society’s balance of justice is heavily skewed by the weight of the powerful. Objectivity perpetuates this status quo, fairness tries to set things right. We at Nepali Times and other publications of the Himalmedia group are committed to professionalism and high-quality journalism … upholding the freedom to be fair.’ These were heady times for Nepal’s mainstream press during the constitutional monarchy days. One had to use dialup through a modem and phone line to access the Internet. Nepal Telecom had just started its GSM mobile service, and we all proudly carried around Nokia 3310s with tiny LCD displays.&nbsp; It would be six years before Twitter started. YouTube was launched in 2005 after its former PayPal founders were caught up in the Asian Tsunami in Thailand, and found there was no platform for sharing videos. It would be another eight years before algorithms began pushing cat videos to users.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250801110848_996e922379073386e7b137498f8f5b6979fe839d808669bc732d33b60827ba4e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250801110848_996e922379073386e7b137498f8f5b6979fe839d808669bc732d33b60827ba4e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepali Times 2000"> <figcaption>Nepali Times #1 19-25 July 2000</figcaption> </figure>  The masthead of the <a href="https://d1i1jdw69xsqx0.cloudfront.net/digitalhimalaya/collections/journals/nepalitimes/pdf/Nepali_Times_001.pdf">#1 print edition of Nepali Times of 19-25 July 2000</a> carried the ambitious ‘Nepal’s Top Newspaper’. The Editorial titled ‘A Sign of the Times’ said in part: ‘Newspapers do more than hold the mirror to society. They are the mirror. Journalism is called history in a hurry. It is also culture, sociology, anthropology, philology, and philosophy in a hurry. Nepali Times will aspire to be a true reflection of our times…’ Indian graphic designer Rustam Vania was invited to Kathmandu in April 2000 and designed a newspaper with a fresh, modern look. His rendition of the masthead and the page template has not changed in 25 years, though much has changed in Nepal, even while a lot has remained the same. Reports and op-eds about air pollution, hydropower exports, investment, political back-stabbing from two decades ago are as relevant today as they were then. Most of the protagonists are the same people, just a little greyer and chubbier. In the first of his many thoughtful columns ‘State of the State’, C K Lal lamented the cynicism in Nepali society: ‘Nepal’s nabobs of negativism hold forth in their nay-saying nooks. Cynicism is at least a reflection of exaggerated self-worth. Despair is much worse, it is a state of having lost all hope.’ Sounds familiar?  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250731110744_c270d9b78096edfeec71984033aae895e376a347b5cd1ba77362c8a8038b9856.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250731110744_c270d9b78096edfeec71984033aae895e376a347b5cd1ba77362c8a8038b9856" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Rewind: 2000"> <figcaption>Nepali Times #7 30 August - 5 September 2000</figcaption> </figure>  Water resources expert Dipak Gyawali argued in a commentary that it made more sense for private power producers to build reservoir projects not for export, but to make up for the dry season power shortfall. A debate even more prescient today. Manjushree Thapa's &nbsp;Nepaliterature column profiled Nepali writers with translated excerpts. The paper serialised chapters from Desmond Doig’s book In the Kingdom of the Gods. The Backside satire column featured ‘Under My Hat’ and ‘The Ass’. Nepali Times even carried a weekly horoscope, cigarette and alcohol advertisements.&nbsp; Journalism is indeed history in a hurry. Those who do not learn from it are doomed to repeat it. Browse the past 25 years of Nepali Times through the online archive on HTML and the ePaper through<a href="https://www.archivenepal.org/nepalitimes"> Archive Nepal</a>.

2000

25 years of journalism

The fourth Himal Media Mela on Friday, 25 July coincided with the 25th anniversary of Nepali Times, and workshops throughout the day focused on how the media can increase its reach and revenue in a rapidly evolving digital landscape. In his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/journalism-reboot">opening remarks</a>, Nepali Times publisher Kunda Dixit spoke about the accelerated changes in the media sphere, and how legacy media exists in the digital space. “Big Tech has gradually dismantled the structures of content moderation,” said Dixit. “Algorithmic authoritarianism has polarised society, fuelling conflict and intolerance.” “The forces undermining democracy and freedom of expression through disinformation and fake news are the same people who are also vaccine and climate deniers, warmongers who cheer genocide, fan flames of ultra-nationalism and sectarianism,” Dixit continued.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250725050756_cf765c9e446e9a9b325ba8562b57446112e8751b8cf8d546b5d75031a46554f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250725050756_cf765c9e446e9a9b325ba8562b57446112e8751b8cf8d546b5d75031a46554f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1385" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025"> <figcaption>Welcome address by Nepali Times publisher Kunda Dixit. All photos: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  However, even as operators of social media platforms are increasingly controlling how and to what degree the audience is able to connect with news and journalists, digital networks can also be a means of uniting against oppression and promoting public interest journalism. So controlling the internet because it has become violent is not the solution. Rather, Nepal should seek strict guidelines and their compliance, not by punishing journalists using irrelevant laws, as has been the case lately. “When we block platforms — along with the untruth, the truth also disappears,” noted Dixit. In her keynote, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/journalism-will-never-be-out-of-fashion">Manisha Pande</a> of digital portal Newslaundry in India underscored the increased significance of journalism in the age of social media and AI. “In a democracy, journalism and access to clear, credible information is like access to clean water,” said Pande. “It is what allows people to make sensible electoral choices and it makes all the difference between a democracy and an autocracy.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160732_57f331e6fe568fa0b114412e69793a182e10f9f1a526ca5325fa0be2ed9f1b01.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250726160732_57f331e6fe568fa0b114412e69793a182e10f9f1a526ca5325fa0be2ed9f1b01" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025 NT"> <figcaption>Keynote speaker Manisha Pande of Newslaundry. </figcaption> </figure>  But the media industry finds itself in a financial crisis today, brought on by social media as well as economic collapse since before the Covid-19 pandemic. Interestingly, Newslaundry which was launched in 2012, is a 100% ad-free: no Google ads, no corporate ads, no political funding, and fully sustained by subscribers, allowing them greater independence. In an age when facts do not matter, journalism needs to be more proactive and go where the audience is. Said Pande: “We need to use the internet and social media tools we have to repackage traditional journalism in a way that is interesting to the audience.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160748_2041be8704d2347b2dedac87a4814dfa26b686808889f5b70371bf98d9a9842f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250726160748_2041be8704d2347b2dedac87a4814dfa26b686808889f5b70371bf98d9a9842f" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025"> <figcaption>Networking during the Himal Media Mela 2025.</figcaption> </figure>  Designing a new digital space for journalism Echoing her sentiment was Anup Kaphle of Rest of World as he led the first session, Designing a New Digital Space for Journalism. “You have to meet your audience where they are, which is on their phones and social media,” said Kaphle, also noting that social media can be a “double-edged sword that is excellent for distribution but also vulnerable to misinformation.” Kaphle was previously Chief Editor of The Kathmandu Post, and has held Editorial positions at Buzzfeed, and The Washington Post. His talk focused on how newsrooms can evolve to thrive in the new digital media environment, and the need to accept that fact that how people consume text has fundamentally changed.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160744_f332b61bdf6dc7317dd960a2682f91f3aa594347c3aec2b484b5a8654207c74e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250726160744_f332b61bdf6dc7317dd960a2682f91f3aa594347c3aec2b484b5a8654207c74e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="HImal Media Nepal 2025"> <figcaption>Himalkhabar editor Santa Gaha Magar with speaker Anup Kaphle of Rest of World. </figcaption> </figure>  The attention economy was a big focus of the talk. Most people are watching short form content on their phones - think TikTok, Instagram Reels, YouTube Shorts. “Every journalist should be able to go on camera and summarise their story in 30 seconds,” said Kaphle, also pointing out that building a loyal community of readers comes from consistency, quality, and trust Kaphle also emphasised the need to think about revenue, beyond the obsolete model of relying only on ads, and instead build diverse income streams, such as user generated revenue. He gave examples of the New York Times' metered paywall, where users get a certain number of free articles a month, and then The Guardian, which does not have a paywell but make convincing appeals for voluntary support from readers. There are also others that put most, or all of their content behind a hard paywall. An adjacent model is memberships, where paying members get access to events, behind-the-scenes, newsletters, or early access to content.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160744_a0d0029a1584fbd5367b3dc03776c16c54dd97f3a7a8164f8f0e23a1eef2ac1e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250726160744_a0d0029a1584fbd5367b3dc03776c16c54dd97f3a7a8164f8f0e23a1eef2ac1e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="HImal Media Nepal 2025"> </figure>  “More and more newsrooms are opening up to their audience, talking to them about what kind of problems they would like to be solved,” said Kaphle, adding that publications with particularly loyal audiences may also think about merchandising —— think The New Yorker totes. In the meantime, there are a few fundamental things that make a story worth paying attention to. Can stories help readers understand complex information? Do stories add unique value? Are there news needs that are not being met? Are you tracking if, and when, your audience is reading? Do you have a journalistic mission that you are transparent about? TikTok and Journalism Meanwhile, Emad Zafar, head of communication from TikTok South Asia, said that while advertising models have put pressure on journalism, TikTok has emerged as a platform that promotes more democratised content.&nbsp; That has meant that even nations that call themselves democratic have put a blanket ban on the platform, citing concerns of privacy, national security, and safety. Nepal also banned the platform in November 2023, saying the social media platform is spreading social discord, but lifted it last year.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160748_a21a30928e26e5f4f63f6f89f4fa7fc47cbbdeb1e94b3b31a57d720ae7ead08a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250726160748_a21a30928e26e5f4f63f6f89f4fa7fc47cbbdeb1e94b3b31a57d720ae7ead08a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="HImal Media Nepal 2025"> <figcaption>Karan Parihar of TikTok South Asia.</figcaption> </figure>  Despite being banned in numerous nations, including the most populous country in the world, the numbers that represent the platform are staggering. One in eight people across the world are on TikTok, creating 66,000 videos every minute. One billion people are on the platform every month.&nbsp; These figures make it clear why the platform is so important for journalists to get their content out to a much larger audience, said Karan Parihar of TikTok South Asia.&nbsp; Mamta Siwakoti, TikTok’s Trust and Safety Program Manager, explained the platform’s community guidelines and how journalists can use the platform, even as misinformation has become a major concern for users. TikTok has 21 fact-checking partners, which provide the platform with verified and real time information.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160732_407aeb7d1f657b6aac8451795da0353aad8baa9b6839930aa1cc9087395e29ae.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250726160732_407aeb7d1f657b6aac8451795da0353aad8baa9b6839930aa1cc9087395e29ae" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1367" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025 NT"> <figcaption>TikTok’s Trust and Safety Program Manager Mamta Siwakoti.</figcaption> </figure>  “Freedom of expression needs to be balanced with human rights,” said Siwakoti. “We consult experts while creating community guidelines, so that it serves our wider purpose of safety and security of our users.” Design and niche content Swarup Nhasiju Shrestha’s Design Sense for Journalists focused on shooting high quality video stories. Nhasiju is the creative head at V-Chitra advertising agency, and has done design and layout for many Nepali newspapers. “Your objective is to stop the scroll - nobody has the time to read anymore,” said Shrestha. He listed out the main types of shots and what they do for the story. A closeup of the face shows the subject’s emotions, a wide shot gives context to what is happening, and an unusual shot can show the subject in a different perspective. Cut every second that doesn’t move the story forward.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160736_b44d99be23087ee79eac0bc0fff39a75e000263a4bedc80c44eb32295bf4089a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250726160736_b44d99be23087ee79eac0bc0fff39a75e000263a4bedc80c44eb32295bf4089a" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025 NT"> <figcaption>Designer Swarup Nhasiju Shrestha of V-Chitra advertising agency during his session.</figcaption> </figure>  Shrestha also emphasised the importance of audio. “The audience may forgive shaky video, but not bad audio.” As for text on videos, short sentences, in sans serif font, in black and white, is the easiest to read. Thumbnails are the new front page of a newspaper should have faces, action, and high contrast. In the meantime, a main piece of content can be split up into 3-4 minute ‘mini’ pieces that are less than a minute long. These get the most views, and can funnel viewers to the longer videos. And counterintuitively, release trailers after the main video. This way, anyone who sees a trailer and is interested, can go watch the main video right after. Also talking about high-impact video content was Sojan Prajapati of Kathmandu ko katha who started out with an aim to inform the public about culture and heritage.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160736_822c94baf230a97d92d3dad3f77c2db47d0d987aedac5ee62c2a4dba47479f91.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250726160736_822c94baf230a97d92d3dad3f77c2db47d0d987aedac5ee62c2a4dba47479f91" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025 NT"> <figcaption>Sojan Prajapati of Kathmandu ko katha.</figcaption> </figure>  In his session, Niche Content Creation, Prajapati told the audience how he has also used his platform ‘Speak up Nepal’ on Instagram for social issues, went on to push 21 petitions to the House of Representatives, 11 of which are yet to be discussed, while four have been resolved. The main purpose of journalism should lie in reinstating hope and faith in citizens in a world which is constantly consumed by negative rather than positive news, he said. “Virality and vulnerability have a connection. There should be positive reinforcement for something good. You just have to be genuine for content creation, genuineness pays off well.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160748_8671ccafef079346e3fb3ae3a06129089e38be807be28d4ff63b1caec65dfada.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20250726160748_8671ccafef079346e3fb3ae3a06129089e38be807be28d4ff63b1caec65dfada" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="HImal Media Nepal 2025"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160748_9d0f6bfeda6cfc73ed16aa2cf6308a67d2e58b239ac81c4cda144fa9e0cd6e62.jpg" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250726160748_9d0f6bfeda6cfc73ed16aa2cf6308a67d2e58b239ac81c4cda144fa9e0cd6e62" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="HImal Media Nepal 2025"> </figure>  Future of the news In the last session of the day, The Future of News, Sundeep Narwani spoke about how AI and journalism intersect, and that AI can help journalists in copyrighting, social media captions, editing and translation that help reduce the cost of human resources. Generative AI, in turn, is getting more refined as we feed it with more data. Perplexity and Gemini in particular are competing to become real time search engines.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160748_74c59cba8159f704dadf6fe8f53532c8cbe1ccb15387da6c0788d7d2abc51085.jpg" data-media-id="editor_13" data-image-id="20250726160748_74c59cba8159f704dadf6fe8f53532c8cbe1ccb15387da6c0788d7d2abc51085" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="HImal Media Nepal 2025"> <figcaption>Sundeep Narwani spoke about AI and the future of journalism.</figcaption> </figure>  “Agents are beyond bots. A lot of things will become automated, making things serious and sensitive, even leading to loss of jobs,” said Narwani while also urging users to be careful of biases. Even search engines such as Google have been found to favour certain subjects while powerful figures have had the platform remove or clean their names. This was in line with a session earlier in the day where Naresh Newar showcased a fake video demonstrating the power of AI, and how it could be misused, urging media institutions to come up with guidelines, to not rely overly on these tools.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160736_9270a6f0c5b70d6ce5dccb78bc1d24682b28cf0008ea4aadea689eb3ecececa3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20250726160736_9270a6f0c5b70d6ce5dccb78bc1d24682b28cf0008ea4aadea689eb3ecececa3" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025 NT"> <figcaption>Tech writer Naresh Newar.</figcaption> </figure>  Pollster Madhu Acharya of Sharecase Data Initiative had sobering but optimistic insights. Comparing Nepal Media Survey results of the past year, Acharya deduced that tv had the most viewership in Nepal, but 20% of its revenue was coming from YouTube, while radio was the most trusted, even though it is seeing a rapid decline in audience, and those who remain are mostly older men. Newspapers, on the other hand, was still one of the most trusted sources, however, it is the source of news for only a little over 5% people. More surprisingly, it is the younger crowd between 18-24 who are reading newspapers the most. On the other hand, online outlets are the new mainstream with most readers between 35-59. Social media has the largest engagement with YouTube, Facebook and TikTok leading the race. In fact, 11.1 million Nepalis are watching YouTube daily, but these platforms have the lowest level of trust.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250726160736_c08e5abacdf87f66f21bd4f1ff05567d9dcd63271e34adce04b121dbeafdcc4b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250726160736_c08e5abacdf87f66f21bd4f1ff05567d9dcd63271e34adce04b121dbeafdcc4b" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025 NT"> <figcaption>Madhu Acharya of Sharecase Data Initiative presenting the latest findings of the Nepal Media Survey.</figcaption> </figure>

The present and future of news

हिमालमिडियाले हरेक वर्ष मनाउँदै आएको हिमाल मिडिया मेलाको यो चौथो संस्करणमा उपस्थित सबैलाई स्वागत ।&nbsp; महिनै पिछे विश्वव्यापी सूचना र सञ्चार प्रणालीले अर्को फड्को मारेको हुन्छ। विगत २ महिनामा नै एआई-संचालित उपकरणहरू अचम्मसंग फैलिएका छन।&nbsp; सामाजिक सञ्जालका प्लाटफर्महरुले पाठकहरूलाई परम्परागत समाचार प्रदायकहरूसंग जोडिदिने क्रम जानिजानि घटाउँदै छन।&nbsp; बिग टेकले कन्टे्ट मोडरेसनको संरचना एक पछि अर्को गर्दै हटाएका छन ।&nbsp; यो एल्गोरिथ्म-मय अधिनायकबादले समाजलाई ध्रुवीकृत गर्दै, द्वन्द्व र असहनसिलतालाई बढावा दिएको छ। कलम चलाउने बितिक्कै झम्टी हाल्ने, बोल्योकि क्रोध र ईर्ष्या बर्षिहाल्ने। &nbsp;पत्रकारहरुलाई शत्रु ठान्ने, “१२ भाई” भनेर चिढ्याउने, “डलरबादी” भन्दै धम्क्याउने, “पत्रुकार”को बिल्ला लगाएर ट्रोल गर्ने क्रम बढ्दै छ । तर त्यही नै डिजीटल संजालहरु फेरि उत्पीडनसँग लड्न एक्यबद्यता जुटाउने, र सार्वजनिक हितको पत्रकारिता फैलाउने माध्यम पनि हुन। त्यसैले, अब इन्टरनेट उग्र भयो भनेर त्सलाई नियन्त्रण गर्दा, प्लाटफोर्महरु ब्लक गर्दा — असत्यसंगै सत्यपनि गुम्छ ।&nbsp; कसरी डिजीटल माध्यमहरुमा उपलब्ध अवसरलाई रक्षा गर्दै सामजिक संजालमा हुने उपध्रोलाई नियमन गर्ने। नेपालमा कडा गाइडलाइन र त्यसको पालना खोजिनुपर्छ, बिद्युतिय कारोबार एन प्रयोग गरेर पत्रकारलाई सजाय दिएर होइन। अंग्रेजीमा भन्ने गरिन्छ, अहिलेको नेपालमा सान्दर्भिक होला: “The exercise of my freedom should not violate yours”. Welcome everyone to this fourth edition of Himal Media Mela. The fact that most of you have paid to be here is proof that you value these interactions at a time of accelerated change in the media sphere.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250725060748_949591d168fbf38f0e1d39b377b1cba0daeabd526ec387e64cc7eb7820ac9802.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250725060748_949591d168fbf38f0e1d39b377b1cba0daeabd526ec387e64cc7eb7820ac9802" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="Himal Media Mela 2025"> </figure>  On World Press Freedom Day this year, Reporters without Borders published a map of the world in which each country was colour coded in varying shades of red to match the degree of press freedom there. Most of Asia was a sea of red. Only Japan, Korea — and Nepal — stood out as lonely white islands. Even so, we in Nepal cannot take our freedoms for granted. The forces undermining democracy and freedom of expression through disinformation and fake news are the same people who are also vaccine and climate deniers, warmongers who cheer genocide, fan flames of ultra-nationalism and sectarianism. Swimming against this tide, and fighting the good fight through brave, independent journalism is Manisha Pande of Newslaundry from a neighbouring country to our south with a name that begins with the letter ‘I’.&nbsp; Manisha, we are honoured to have you here, eager to listen to you, and be inspired by your journalism. Welcome.&nbsp; This year’s Media Mela will not dwell too much on the challenges faced by journalism. We all know what they are. So, instead of talkshops, we will have workshops. How can we cover the most important stories that affect the daily lives of Nepalis in such a way that it is watched and read to build public opinion and spur policy reform?&nbsp; In an age when facts do not matter, journalism has to be more proactive and go where the audience is. यसै अवसरको उपयोग गर्दै हिमालमिडिया र यसले लिने नयाँ बाटोको विषयमा अलिकति कुरा पनि राखि हाल्छु। हिमालमिडिया अब मुनाफा वितरण नगर्ने कम्पनीको रूपमा परिणत भएको छ। यसले अझ धेरै &nbsp;व्यक्ति, संस्थाहरूसँग जोडिन र सहकार्य गर्न सहज हुन्छ भन्ने विश्वास लिएका छौँ। यो नयाँ non-profit company मार्फत् हाम्रो पत्रकारिता अझै फराकिलो हुनेछ। समावेशी बन्नेछ। An advance thank you to all the workshop speakers for your time, thank you everyone for participating, and thank you to TikTok for powering this year’s Himal Media Mela. There was a social media post the other day in which someone said (and I quote): “Himal Media Mela powered by TikTok? TikTok requires no attention span, while Himal articles require substantial attention span. This is a bit like a Diabetic Convention powered by Lumbini Chini Karkhana.” जे भएपनि, अन्तमा: आजको कार्यशालाहरुले हामी मिडियाकर्मीहरूलाई एउटा नौलो मौका दिने अपेक्षा राखेका छौँ – कसरी डिजिटल औजारले पत्रकारलाई दिएको उपायहरु सिक्न । धैर्य गरेर सुनिदिनु भएकोमा धन्यबाद। एक पटक फेरि सबै सहभागीहरूमा हार्दिक नमन र स्वागत।&nbsp;

Kunda Dixit

Journalism Reboot

Nepali Times: When did you feel the need for a digital portal like Newslaundry, and how are you doing things differently?
Manisha Pande: Newslaundry started in 2012 to do exactly what our name suggests: take the media to the cleaners. The media holds everyone accountable — from politicians to bureaucrats to film stars — but who holds the media accountable? We wanted to turn the spotlight inward: expose propaganda, track corporate and political influence, unpack ownership patterns, and make the fourth pillar of democracy answerable. 
Over time, we’ve grown into a platform known not just for media critique, but also for ground reportage and hard-hitting investigative journalism. What sets us apart is that we’re 100% ad-free: no Google ads, no corporate ads, no political funding. We’re fully powered by our subscribers, and I’m proud to say we’re the only truly successful subscription-driven news platform in India.
Does this mean that Newslaundry can now also be regarded as ‘mainstream’ media?
The idea of mainstream and alternate is perhaps redundant now in the age of the Internet. A small YouTube channel reporting on a district is mainstream for the people living there. But in terms of an important stop for credible information, perspective and context I think we’re right up there with what you’d call mainstream. But our ad-free model is as alternate as it gets. You won’t find that in legacy media.
How do you ensure that your voice is heard and taken seriously above the din of other social media platforms?
We stick to the fundamentals of good journalism: fairness, balance, rigour, and giving all sides a voice. But we use the tools of the digital age to deliver it. We speak the language of a newer audience without talking down to them or taking ourselves too seriously. We use podcasts, longform videos, even reels — formats that feel fresh but what we do essentially is rooted in old-school journalistic values. That’s what sets us apart from the noise and click-chasing chaos of social media.
The business model of mainstream media is in trouble, how have you adapted your engagement with readers in terms of content and revenue?
Yes it is and this is precisely why we have a model that has wholesale rejected advertisements. This means a lot of advocacy with our readers and listeners — telling them why it’s important to pay for news in a democracy. Everything we do is powered with the message that it’s possible to bring stories in public interest only when the public pays for news. Our motto is Pay To Keep News Free — and we’re constantly drilling that message. Like I just did here.
And you did it quite effectively. And how do you handle excessive and abusive trolling?
I think it’s pretty clear when someone engages with you in bad faith, I find it easy to ignore that. But I make sure I learn from criticism on the Internet that is genuinely engaging with our work, and there is plenty of that too. Ignore the abuse, but learn from your audience that wants you to do better — that’s how I keep it sane.
Is there still scope for journalists among all those content creators out there?
Yes absolutely. Journalism will never be out of fashion. Increasingly, there’s a hunger for information and context, and we are best poised to serve it.

“Journalism will never be out of fashion…”

More than 300 media practitioners from 40 countries will be in Kathmandu this week for the <a href="https://globalvoicesonline.org/">Global Voices</a> Summit 2024 for two days of deliberations on challenges and opportunities in the new digital media space. &nbsp; This is the <a href="https://globalvoices.org/about/annual-summits/">ninth Summit</a> of Global Voices on 6-7 December in which journalists, translators, activists, technologists, policymakers and development experts discuss issues related to free expression and language diversity.&nbsp; <a href="https://globalvoices.org/">Global Voices</a> was founded 20 years ago as an international multilingual community of editors and journalists, translators and human rights activists to use the Internet to tell stories that build understanding across borders.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241203091216_01c2f2ccaae529abfced7db24a88364cd22a85321ea3e10736088883f8693eba.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241203091216_01c2f2ccaae529abfced7db24a88364cd22a85321ea3e10736088883f8693eba" data-rendition-name="original" width="1415" height="666" loading="lazy" alt="Global Voices conference in Kathmandu"> </figure>  Its content is translated and shared in the media across the world in 52 languages, including Nepali. Participants will also examine threats to media freedom in authoritarian regimes, including those with elected autocrats, and also discuss political activism and climate justice. “Throughout the two days we will examine threats like transnational repression and digital authoritarianism, explore open knowledge initiatives in a fragmenting internet,” says <a href="https://summit2024.globalvoices.org/author/georgia-popplewell/">Georgia Popplewell</a>, a journalist from Trinidad and Tobago who is Managing Director of Global Voices. Since 2006, <a href="https://globalvoicesonline.org/about/annual-summits/">Global Voices Summits</a> have brought together innovative digital activists and citizen media networks from around the world. Past Summits were held in London, New Delhi, Budapest, Santiago de Chile, Nairobi, Cebu City, and Colombo. Nepali Times has partnered with Global Voices for the Kathmandu Summit.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241206101236_a3407dcc4408d6ba76d2b6e44c2cb52d0b16951249d4cc910ceb38a058a992ed.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20241206101236_a3407dcc4408d6ba76d2b6e44c2cb52d0b16951249d4cc910ceb38a058a992ed" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="738" loading="lazy" alt="global voices in Kathmandu"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241203091216_c4c4b0abd65c038466da9956432b8aecb1cd833fc565a45926a4ddf269902577.png" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20241203091216_c4c4b0abd65c038466da9956432b8aecb1cd833fc565a45926a4ddf269902577" data-rendition-name="original" width="1251" height="775" loading="lazy" alt="Global Voices conference in Kathmandu"> </figure>  “For each Summit, we seek a location that is of strategic importance for citizen media, and consider the country’s press freedom record and ease of access for visitors of different nationalities,” Popplewell added. “Nepal is home to a dynamic and diverse media landscape, which has managed to grow in the context of a fraught transition to democracy. &nbsp;The rest of the world has much to learn from the opportunities and challenges that Nepal's many online communities have experienced.” The packed <a href="https://gv2024.sched.com/list/simple/">Summit agenda</a> will kick off on Thursday with a plenary panel on The Past, Present and Future of Digital Conversations in Nepal with Ujjwal Acharya of Journalism Academy and Nepali Times publisher Kunda Dixit. Other conversations will be on topics like blogging, digital connectivity, AI and deep fakes, state control of internet content and multilingual media.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241203091220_8d059c15a1bdc534c666cb8944c3944d05f5424a14c3fae00ccfc6e1dc94bfd4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20241203091220_8d059c15a1bdc534c666cb8944c3944d05f5424a14c3fae00ccfc6e1dc94bfd4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="754" loading="lazy" alt="Global Voices conference in Kathmandu"> </figure>  News stories from Nepal are regularly translated across the languages of Global Voices, and the service also carries <a href="https://globalvoices.org/-/world/south-asia/nepal/">off-beat stories from Nepal</a>. Recent ones include why <a href="https://globalvoices.org/2024/12/01/the-journey-of-the-esperanto-movement-in-nepal-over-the-past-eight-decades/">Esperanto is so popular in Nepal</a>, the <a href="https://globalvoices.org/2024/11/25/in-a-nepali-village-residents-struggle-to-reconcile-traditional-artisanship-with-modernization/">vanishing craft of bamboo baskets</a>, and <a href="https://globalvoices.org/2024/11/18/scores-of-nepalis-tricked-into-joining-the-russian-army/">Nepalis tricked into joining the Russian Army</a>. Summit sessions will be available online and highlights posted on <a href="https://twitter.com/globalvoices">X</a>, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/globalvoicesonline/">Instagram</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/globalvoicesonline?fref=ts">Facebook</a> and <a href="https://mstdn.social/@globalvoices/">Mastodon</a>.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241203091216_3a8d608d4536081c1db5ce2832c6f51efa7f72b3390ccfea43c000a45c6e9471.png" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20241203091216_3a8d608d4536081c1db5ce2832c6f51efa7f72b3390ccfea43c000a45c6e9471" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="600" loading="lazy" alt="Global Voices conference in Kathmandu"> </figure>

Global Voices Summit in Kathmandu

Nepal’s month-long cricket carnival ended on a sunny Saturday in Kathmandu with a final game in which the Lumbini Lions dominated the Sudurpaschim Royals with both bat and ball.&nbsp; The Royals were bowled out for an embarrassing 85, thanks to Namibian Ruben Trumplemann’s three wickets for three runs, and captain Rohit Paudel’s hat-trick in the eleventh over. Only opener Ishan Pandey’s 33 run-innings was of any note.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025121315120_ced9258f9503a03fe53760d5ff420136ea9cfbaf3001512399ec5cafeef25364" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="909" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251213141232_0b712b438a97b49747029e4b3884b0eeba8ec0ff0bfbc5fd3d61cbb2002a16c2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1345" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  The Lions came out with virtually no pressure on them, and Dinesh Adhikari’s 42 off 13 including 27 off the first over bowled by Dipendra Singh Airee won the match. Rohit Paudel came in to finish the match calmly, with 11 overs to spare, scoring two stylish fours and a six before holing out with the Lions on 83.&nbsp; The Lions took comically long to get the final two runs to win the game, losing one more wicket. But it was merely a matter of time, and a single ended the Royal’s misery.&nbsp; As dusk fell, the big fluffy lion mascot was on the field dapping up the Lions as red fireworks went off and Lumbini fans leaped from their seats in the packed stands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251213141232_ba4c4fde1865c583cf324d253563a0fc96002c31e8381ee85850f71c67515ea9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1365" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  This capped off an incredible run from the Lions who had finished dead last in NPL Season 1, and had only one win and three losses after four games. They won the remaining three, finishing fourth, barely qualifying.&nbsp; This meant that they had to play an eliminator last week against the Kathmandu Gorkhas and then a qualifier against the popular Biratnagar Kings, whose squad included Sandeep Lamichhane, Faf du Plessis, and Martin Guptill. They won both in style. For the Royals, however, this was the second disappointing final in a row after being the best team in the group stage in both seasons of the NPL. National team batsman Binod Bhandari had had an excellent tournament for the Royals, but was in tears at having come this far again and fallen short.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251213141228_a90fd0afaeec366416efe314464d6b1152bd9cca011346b77914c2037b6b156e" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1366" loading="lazy" alt="NPL 2"> </figure>  Despite the final being disappointingly less action-packed for the neutral viewer, the final marked the second successful execution of the NPL. The addition of seats and floodlights at the TU Cricket Stadium overlooking Kathmandu made evening games possible and improved the experience for fans.&nbsp; The floodlights also made for some gorgeous photography as the sun set behind Chandragiri, illuminating the Himalaya to the north in gradually fading shades of orange.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251205041256_280bea0db1d097c88d478f5ba7197b5e2faa05623ebf9c0438af46d85bdb891e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  Adam Rossington’s 323 runs, including a century, and Sandeep Lamichhane’s 17 wickets were the standout individual performances across the tournament in the past month.&nbsp; The tournament brought out characters much loved by the vociferous crowd, including ‘Taklu’ Irish commentator Andrew Leonard who worked in a Dhaka Topi, British presenter Jess Crowe who donned a Sari for the final, and Chitwan Rhinos’ charismatic mascot Mr Gaida who entertained the crowd with enthusiastic nonstop dancing.&nbsp; The tournament was such a draw that the university grounds looked like a carnival with food and merchandise stalls. The capacity 10,000 stadium drew such a crowd that Kathmandu streets were relatively quiet on Saturday with people also watching the game live on tv at home.&nbsp; Kathmandu’s residents were genuinely delighted at being able to talk about <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/cricket-carnival">a Nepali cricket tournament</a>, and not about the Indian or English Premier Leagues. And while everyone appreciated the cricket no matter who was playing, fans showed up for their provinces in loud numbers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251205041256_e96211da042ec3043940f2feca4cd59dd00351af41a4ca029169871f69f51957" data-rendition-name="original" width="1366" height="911" loading="lazy" alt="Cricket carnival NT"> <figcaption>Photo: SUMAN NEPALI</figcaption> </figure>  The organisers having proven themselves, future NPLs may need more stadiums in other provinces, even better overseas players.&nbsp; Sambhav Sirohiya of the Kathmandu Media Group ambitiously tweeted that he believes that the league could already become the second most valuable franchise cricket league NEXT SEASON, especially if the government would loosen up its regulations of advertising, especially that of alcohol. Nepali cricketers and fans are now better prepared for the T20 World Cup in India and Sri Lanka in February, with the experience of playing in the NPL and with the access to world-class cricket talent and seeing how they go about excelling at the sport.&nbsp;

Lumbini gets the lion’s share

The Kangchenjunga Trek in far-eastern Nepal is a remote and less-crowded adventure that offers raw wilderness, diverse cultures, and breathtaking terrain below the world’s third highest mountain. Kangchenjunga (8,586m) grabbed the world’s attention before Mt Everest ever did because its imposing rampart dominated the northern horizon from Darjeeling, the summer refuge for the British in India. The Kangchenjunga massif is more a mountain range rather than a peak, its high ridge stretching 25km from Nepal to Sikkim.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251211111236_1f51f10becbb6bd01248f5845c6055479201365b1357fbbc6479b6724ea2185c" data-rendition-name="original" width="938" height="726" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga trail map"></figure>  Sikkim considers the mountain sacred, and has banned mountaineering expeditions. But the various prominences of Kangchenjunga are increasingly popular for climbers via the north face in Nepal. For non-mountaineers, even the Kangchenjunga trek can be arduous, especially in winter. It is one of the last pure wilderness areas in Nepal, traversing sparsely populated valleys that are rich in biodiversity because of the high annual rainfall. Even when Nepal was a forbidden land, among the first foreign visitors was British botanist J D Hooker who explored the Nepal side of Kangchenjunga in 1850 to collect plant samples. The peak was first climbed in 1955, two years after the first ascent of Mt Everest.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251215071228_7dd4ddc943554012654df0a2f5065ed364b8349c31888ac8cbe175b4540d1dfd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025121509128_a857e5e9cfc7fea2f5f0b060b8f6e9f6582abc1ac1fd1a60abad90a9d55adbff" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The establishment of Kangchenjunga Conservation Area in September 2006 was accompanied by tragedy when 24 people, including Nepal’s nature preservation pioneers were killed in a helicopter crash. The Conservation Area is now the only one managed completely by the local indigenous people. It has 70 varieties of orchids, 30 rhododendron types, and 15 out of 28 endemic plants of Nepal. Kangchenjunga still gets very few of the 200,000 foreign trekkers who visit Nepal every year, but improved road access in recent years is making it more popular. Trekkers have a choice of exploring the North Base Camp (Pangpema) or the South Base Camp (Yalung Glacier), or combine both for the full Kangchenjunga Circuit (map). This trek is considered strenuous, with long walking days, high altitude, and tea house accommodation that is much more basic than the Everest or Annapurna regions. Trekkers have to be fit and with prior hiking experience. Most teams take tents and camp, and carry most of their food.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2025121509128_895ccc1d918f88c255dbeccea19c990bcaa792f384750559cb7257b99f177be7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  FULL CIRCUIT Because the region is restricted, trekkers must obtain a permit and be accompanied by a licensed guide. A full circuit can take three weeks, while doing only the North or South Base Camps will take two weeks, including flying from Kathmandu to Bhadrapur and jeep to Taplejung or a rough trail to Hellok. The lower forested stretches are teeming with wildlife, and this is red panda and snow leopard country. The streams and ponds have amphibians and reptiles, some of which have not yet even been classified. The route also passes the homelands of the Limbu, Rai and Tibetan communities with the local culture and architecture more intact than in most other mountain areas of Nepal.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025121509128_90c129a639376621ece0aa067a601573f8b06d934c089a0fa929a7ce9c12018b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="597" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>   <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2025121509128_f51e595e5a18d573365cc611dbf1a49cfb19b2b8ee40164ed500179e2a2b04f8" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kangchenjunga in winter NT"></figure>  The best seasons to trek are spring (March–May) and autumn (September–November). There are fewer trekkers and climbers in winter, and many of the birds and wildlife have migrated down to warmer climes. Despite its beauty, trekkers should be prepared for challenges like long distances between villages, unpredictable weather, and limited emergency rescue options due to the remoteness of the area — all even more challenging in winter. Norbu Lama is an international hiking guide with www.dolpocaravantreks.com and just returned after leading a trek to Kangchenjunga Base Camps.

Kangchenjunga in winter

Ancient heritage meets dern distillery craft as the US-based The Nepali Spirit Company this month makes its global debut with Kathmandu Ayla. Inspired by Nepal’s ancient rice whiskey tradition, the product is the first of four handcrafted spirits that brings Kathmandu Valley’s 1,000-year-old ayla tradition to the world stage. “The first four products combine history, culture, and tradition and it has taken eight years to get to this launch point,” says CEO of The Nepal Spirit Company Kashish Das Shrestha, who is also publishing a book on the history of alcohol in Nepali culture. The other three ayla products are Masala Whiskey aged in Brazilian Amburana casks and spiced with black cardamom from Nepal, Annapurna Ayla, and Haku Chaku Himalayan Espresso Liqueur made with organic Nepali coffee, and chaku (dark molasses).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216141244_ab74945dc60ce5ff83fe7a88596fc032c18705e7cda9dc62df21694d3ad83b85.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251216141244_ab74945dc60ce5ff83fe7a88596fc032c18705e7cda9dc62df21694d3ad83b85" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> </figure>  “I started visiting international whiskey auctions six years ago and after reading about distilling, my passion for spirits grew, and I felt the urge to tell the story of Nepal’s heritage spirits to the world,” explains Shrestha. Once poured in Nepal’s royal courts, ayla is a clear rice whiskey that is a millennia-old living heritage of Kathmandu used in rituals from birth to death and traditional life milestones of its inhabitants. Ayla is distilled to capture the classic aromas and flavors, with a soft sweet after taste. It can be enjoyed neat, sipped through meals, or enjoyed as shots. With more than 15% of Nepal’s population living and working abroad, there is a cultural demand for ayla in the diaspora from Asan to Amstredam to Australia.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216121236_0db0ec396832736fef60b636d7012a917be65471408c81383a40613f928f9e78.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251216121236_0db0ec396832736fef60b636d7012a917be65471408c81383a40613f928f9e78" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1270" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216141236_a84ede74c67a61e75af2f0cc1c985b4d04ff2292c6bd0bd0b841f4d2c7b593aa.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251216141236_a84ede74c67a61e75af2f0cc1c985b4d04ff2292c6bd0bd0b841f4d2c7b593aa" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;“We also believe ayla is a wonderful way to tell Nepal’s story to the world,” says Lilu KC Shrestha, Chief Operating Officer of the company. “We intend to use our platform to promote Nepal in any way we can, and also find ways to give back to the country. It was high time a world-class Nepali spirits brand entered the global market, and we are proud to take the lead.” Aside from the ayla itself, the bottle and packaging was conceived by New York-based designer Sahara Shrestha to reflect a complete Nepaliness. “Each bottle and box is a love letter to Nepal, and every detail is an expression of respect and appreciation of Nepali heritage and our desire to share it with the world,” says Kashish Das Shrestha. “And ayla itself is a sacred part of our culture, so we wanted to make sure the bottle reflects this reverence.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251216141244_d2746204c64802ff81453d7a8749f516bf3c62538fe3c98400a9b3978c03b273.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251216141244_d2746204c64802ff81453d7a8749f516bf3c62538fe3c98400a9b3978c03b273" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1475" loading="lazy" alt="The American Ayla NT"> <figcaption>Aylarita</figcaption> </figure>  The bottom of each bottle has an embossed Mandala representing the universe and its interconnectedness. A glass molding of Himalayan peaks Chomolungma and Nuptse signifies the earth and heaven. The bottle cap is a black and gold rendering of the metal plates that hang from Kathmandu’s temples. The logo of The Nepali Spirit Company is also inspired by the unti, a traditional vessel used to pour ayla. While its top is typically adorned with a peacock, the company’s design replaces it with rice stalks. This motif is also on the label of Annapurna Whiskey named in honour of both the mountain and the goddess, the giver of grain. For a new take, ayla can be paired with a lime wedge lathered in honey, cumin, and salt, or on the glass rim. It can also be mixed into cocktails to make Aylarita, Aylatini, or Aylapolitan. <a href="http://www.thenepalispirit.com/" target="_blank">www.thenepalispirit.com</a>, @TheNepaliSpirit

The American Ayla

People like myself were too young during the decade of the Maoist War to remember its horrors. We often wonder what life was truly like back then. Perhaps the closest we have come to experiencing a national crisis of that scale – with the protests, violence, curfews, and political maneuvering – was the GenZ movement in September. How did people cope? What did they fear? What was it like in the cities and &nbsp;villages? How was it that the king still held so much power? What motivated the guerrillas? And, how did &nbsp;ordinary people adjust and endure the war? My curiosity about the war that ended 20 years ago &nbsp;was met with a rollercoaster of emotions with Monica Rana’s debut novel, The Paths We Choose. The novel is not a retelling of events from the vantage of leaders, rebels. It is not about the violence, but a carefully curated perspective of ordinary people caught up in it. It is a glimpse into how the war altered or defined their paths. This is the 'People’s War' from the people’s own perspective. Readers are immediately invested into the lives of two central characters, the sister duo, Sumnima and Rita. The elder radiating from the beginning with her brave and cunning aura, and the latter, more timid and obedient, much of her time absorbed in awe of her sister. The writer’s language flows as effortlessly as the sisters’ strides up the hills to steal mangoes from Dhire Dai’s trees, only to race back down to Rato Mato, carrying us through their journey into adolescence. Amidst the rolling hills, mango trees, life is filled with laughter, adventures, and everyday banter, scenes so serene that they carry an unsettling calm that hints at what lies ahead. Village life is not all painted in romantic hues. The stark reality of poverty, subsistence, and contrast with the comfort of city living are never far away. Amidst these reminders, there runs a humbling truth: happiness once rested on small things, not on the material excess that define urban life. As the pages turn, the title begins to resonate: two sisters, once bound by the same bloodline, shared dreams, and the same roof, are caught in the crosshairs of war and forced onto separate paths. One by choice, and the other by necessity. The story unfolds with the seasons: the relentless monsoon rains, the scorching heat of summer, and a liberating winter that carries bittersweet truths. The year is 2001, as the insurgency intensifies. Against this backdrop, the cousins’ lives diverge. Sumnima is drawn into the rebels’ ranks to 'fight for equality and freedom', while Rita is uprooted, carried across distances, and placed in Seto Bangala as a helping hand among the higher-ups, in her family’s desperate attempt to secure her a better life after their village is reduced to a 'ghost city' by violent attacks. There are betrayals and beginnings, high palaces and humble hills, royals and rurals, identity and ideology, loss and lament, distance and discovery. Through upheavals, tears, and struggles, one thing remains constant: both sisters wonder about the other. They care. They long to reconnect. They hold fast to the dream they once shared to open a guesthouse in their village someday. A dream to simply live with no fear. To be free. To be happy. And, to be together. The writing illuminates vital themes: innocent people caught up in strife, the vast chasm of class from royals dining on silver plates to villagers back home hiding their last grain to save it from looters. And discrimination so stark it was as if people carried labels on their foreheads, marked by caste, skin colour, and gender. The sisters eventually reunite, but their journey is not an easy one, and what lies ahead is far from the future either of them once imagined. One might romanticise it as fate, or might recoil at the harsh reality Monica Rana lays bare: it is often the innocent who bear the heaviest burdens of war. Civilians are trapped between warring sides, enduring hunger, displacement, and violence through no fault of their own. Wars continue to rage across the world. Though the novel does not particularly focus on exposing the horrifying depths of war crimes, it remains a timeless reminder of what the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish once said: “The war will end, and leaders will shake hands. The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son. And those children will keep waiting for their hero father. I don’t know who sold our homeland, but I saw who paid the price.” &nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251213031240_2f7c62e392a430082c1627719e014f82b857118e226299e1590d74503387ae93" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The paths we choose book review"> </figure>

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