The Manila Bulletin’s 126th anniversary last Monday revived many memories of how the newspaper held a central place in Filipino family life. From business, political, and religious leaders to well-known writers and professionals, everyone seemed to have a story about the paper.

First, the stories recalled that the Manila Bulletin was part of the daily routine of the fathers of today’s leaders.

Second, they spoke of how stories connected people. Readers would reach out to comment, or extend financial help to total strangers whose stories they read that morning. During times of natural calamities when Manila Bulletin would have fund drives, people of all classes would personally come to the Intramuros office to hand their contributions — in tens of thousands or small bills, even coins.

I’ve witnessed how seemingly unimportant stories — people needing medical attention, a family who lost everything in a flood, or a student who yearns for a college education — have attracted readers to send contributions to Manila Bulletin. Trust in the paper did not only mean trusting that the stories are true, also that the company would forward the donation to the right persons.

I have been with the Manila Bulletin for more than 43 years, and my memories reflect how profoundly time has changed the way stories are reported and told.

I first stepped into this building in 1982, joining Tempo, which had opened a few months after my family moved to Manila. I had two daughters then, aged four and one; my son arrived eight years later. All three grew up between deadlines, while their mother balanced journalism and motherhood. None of them chose journalism. Each pursued a career far removed from the newsroom.

Writing for Tempo, Manila Bulletin’s English tabloid, taught me many skills in feature writing, most especially observation and interviewing. What truly made the difference was the guidance of editors who took time to shape a story — even before a reporter left for coverage, and again after the story was submitted. Editors would call to suggest another angle, ask for a clearer quote, or push for more “color” to bring the story to life.

Always, editors demanded stories told from many angles — from the victim, witness, and the police or government authority. Submitting anything with less was a disgrace — the paper is either thrown into the waste basket or marked with a big X in red ink! Today, a one-liner stating something happening is considered a “breaking story” which takes shape as the day rolls out. The demand is to be first to upload online or social media.

Reporters then moved from one beat to another, usually starting at the police beat and “graduating” to the House of Representatives, the Senate and Malacañang. This molded a reporter’s instinct, integrity, writing skills, and established a network of contacts, which is a valuable asset.

That’s so different now when a reporter is often hired for a specific beat or section and remains there for most of his or her career.

The tools of the trade evolved dramatically. From manual typewriters, we moved to electric typewriters, then to desktop computers with lighter keyboards and larger monitors. In the typewriter days, stories were sent to the desk by fax, or “phoned-in” to an editor who balanced the headset with his head and shoulder, while typing the story. When computers came, we typed at our desks and simply pressed “send.”

Today, reporters write stories on mobile phones, iPads, or laptops; email them to editors; or post them online — often from wherever they happen to be, not necessarily the newsroom.

Story gathering has also changed. Coverage that once required face-to-face interviews or on-the-ground reporting can now be done by reading online reports or scrolling through social media. Many stories quote statements from X, TikTok, YouTube, or live television coverage. Interviews with victims or witnesses are conducted through social media, Zoom meetings, or video calls.

Technology has transformed coverage itself. A mobile phone has replaced the still camera, video camera, and voice recorder. In almost real time, a reporter can send images or videos of an event, followed minutes later by a story explaining what happened.

Yet despite all these changes, some things remain unchanged: integrity, observation, and good writing.

Integrity is not taught; it is shaped by character. Observation is not programmed; it is a creative instinct. Good writing is a skill — and sometimes, a talent.

Artificial intelligence can polish sentences and speed up production, but it cannot replace responsibility or truth. When observation is weak and integrity is absent, errors in fact and meaning are inevitable.

Technology may change how stories are told. But only journalists can decide whether those stories are worth believing. (Email: [email protected])