Why We Exist
We are not good citizens. There, I said it.
We don’t question the status quo. We don’t hold our leaders accountable. Many don’t vote. Most don’t engage in issues that shape our lives and communities.
Think about it. Why does your grocery bill keep rising while farmers struggle to make ends meet?
When a big breaking scandal hijacks your attention, do you get a clear picture of what happened, or just a blur of accusations and counter-accusations?
When you’re choking on Delhi’s smog or stuck in Bangalore’s soul-crushing traffic, do you know who exactly is responsible for these urban nightmares and what have they done or not done to find a solution?
Chances are, you don’t.
Why? Is it because we are incapable? Because we’re a bunch of idiots?
No. Absolutely not. Our lack of engagement is not a question of capability. It’s not entirely our fault.
The blame lies partly at the feet of our broken public discourse and our failing media. Because the cold, hard truth is this: journalism, as it currently stands, is broken.
Anger sells. The superficial sells. We are fed a steady diet of polarising opinions, sensationalised headlines, and simplistic narratives. We are encouraged to take sides, to view the world in black and white.
Someone out there is always trying to sell you something: a product, a service, an idea, an ideology. So much bullshit. What unites all bullshitters is their singular goal to persuade or impress—not to lead you towards the truth.
So many journalists are also fed up. Tired of this polluted information ecosystem. Tired of chasing trends and the wants of algorithms. Tired of compromising values for views and shares.
The result is a full-blown crisis of citizenship. We are more divided than ever, getting deeper in our echo chambers. Scrolling through the news and social media feeds often leaves us angry, cynical, and helpless—fueling a sense of resignation: ‘If nothing will change, what’s the point of engaging?’
And what greater victory is there for tyrants and the powers that be, than when citizens feel hopeless, start believing they have no agency, and accept their roles as mere subjects?
The scale of this challenge is immense, and it calls for a fundamental rethinking of what journalism is and what it can be. It requires a new kind of platform, one that is hell-bent on bridging the gap between the issues that shape our lives and our understanding of them.
Enter The Plank—a new magazine that’s fiercely committed to the idea that good journalism is essential to good citizenship. To help our readers make sense of the world and take action to shape it.
What you’ll find in our pages are thoughtful, well-researched stories that go beyond the headlines to explore the deeper forces shaping our society. We want to build a relationship with our readers and help restore their sense of collective agency. We want to be the voice of your smart and trusted friend—you know, the one who calls out nonsense and loves an intense debate. We will challenge you, make you question everything, and help you see the world in new ways.
Of course, we are not naive. This is going to be hard. We might just be punching above our weight. We know.
But the point right now is to start. On a journey of exploration and experimentation. To reimagine what journalism can be, what citizenship can be.
To give this mission life, we figured, we don’t need to wait for big cheques in the bank. We could simply bootstrap this idea out into the world and then see what happens. Which means we can only publish a few stories. But which also means razor-sharp focus to work hard on each one.
Because good citizens don’t wait for perfect conditions to start affecting change. They start where they are, with what they have, and build from there.
We are rolling up our sleeves and getting to work. One story at a time.
Welcome to The Plank. Let’s do this.
Have thoughts, feedback, or suggestions? Write to me at samarth@theplankmag.com.