Can a media product that has received a million views but changed nothing in its audience really be called successful? This was the question that journalist Ilona Sokolovska – Editor-in-Chief of the Glas TV channel (2007–2022), media manager, and host of the YouTube project “Viche” – used to open her conversation with participants of the webinar “How to Create a Successful Media Product,” held as part of the “Youth for the Future of Ukraine” project.
The question may seem rhetorical. In the world of YouTube, TikTok, Instagram, and Telegram, we have long learned to measure success in numbers: views, likes, followers, and shares. Algorithms tell us what “works,” while creators increasingly focus on what audiences are ready to consume here and now.
But this is precisely where the main problem begins.
Media can be highly successful by the metrics – and at the same time fail completely in terms of its social impact.
A Million Views – What Comes Next?
Webinar participants were asked to imagine a simple situation: a video receives a million views, is widely shared, and its creator is frequently quoted. Formally, it is an undeniable success.
Now change only the content. Suppose, for example, that the creator claims that all men who are not fighting are “traitors,” or that young people who do not volunteer “have no right to call themselves Ukrainians.” Or perhaps the creator takes a public official’s words out of context in such a way that, instead of providing an explanation, the video creates panic.
The number of views remains exactly the same. But the social outcome is entirely different.
Ilona Sokolovska suggests distinguishing between two approaches to defining success. From an industry perspective, a successful product is one that achieves maximum reach at minimum cost. From a journalistic perspective, it is one that changes the audience’s understanding, behaviour, or attitudes.
These two definitions can coexist perfectly well. The problem arises when they diverge.
At that point, the creator has to answer an uncomfortable question: what exactly do I want from my audience – a reaction or a result?
An Algorithm Has No Ethics
Today’s media creator is constantly competing for attention. They have only a few seconds to capture someone’s interest. Hence the headlines, provocations, emotional thumbnails, and confrontational wording.
There is nothing inherently wrong with this. Attracting attention is part of professional skill.
The problem begins when the hook becomes more important than the content.
An algorithm does not distinguish between a socially valuable discussion and an argument. What matters to it is whether a person stops scrolling, clicks, comments, or shares. That is why conflict is often technologically more advantageous than a nuanced conversation.
But a journalist cannot shift responsibility onto the algorithm.
One of the webinar’s key conclusions was precisely this: a creator must think not only about what happens before someone clicks “watch,” but also about what happens afterwards.
Will the person understand the issue better? Will they gain a tool for action? Or will they simply become angry with someone?
These are very different outcomes from the same view.
One Fact – Several Possible Realities
This is particularly important when it comes to framing – presenting the same fact within different interpretive contexts.
Webinar participants were shown three headlines about the opening of a youth space. The first announced a free space for young people. The second added the detail that it was located in a former bomb shelter. The third framed the story as a conflict: the city is spending money on a youth space while young people are struggling to find jobs.
The fact remains the same. Only the frame changes – and with it, the audience’s emotional response. This is where one of journalism’s most subtle boundaries lies.
Manipulation does not necessarily begin with a lie. Sometimes it begins with a true fact deliberately placed within a particular context.
Media literacy, therefore, is no longer simply the ability to check whether a figure is accurate. We must also learn to examine what surrounds that figure, what has been left out of the frame, and why the author chose that particular angle.
The First Message Often Outlives the Correction
Another mechanism discussed during the webinar was the effect of the first message.
If a person first hears a particular version of an event, correcting it later becomes much more difficult. That is why information struggles often revolve not only around what is true, but also around which version of events reaches people first.
This is particularly dangerous on social media and anonymous Telegram channels, where the source of information can often be impossible to verify.
Anonymity in itself does not prove that a report is false. But it does mean one thing: the reader has fewer opportunities to hold the author accountable or verify their credibility.
For professional media, this cannot serve as an excuse. If information comes from an anonymous source, the editorial team must seek additional confirmation, verify documents, and approach other parties involved. Simply reposting something does not turn a rumour into journalism.
Trust Is More Valuable Than Reach
This problem is not limited to Telegram.
During the discussion, participants raised the issue of media funding: are outlets supported through Patreon, donations, and reader contributions more independent than media organisations owned by major private proprietors?
There is no simple answer.
A financial model certainly affects editorial independence. But being funded by readers does not automatically make a media outlet objective. Dependence on an audience can itself create the temptation to say what people want to hear.
That is why transparency, editorial standards, fact-checking, separating facts from commentary, and a journalist’s willingness to ask uncomfortable questions of all sides ultimately matter more than the funding model itself.
In the end, the most valuable asset a media organisation possesses is neither money nor even subscribers.
It is trust. And it can be lost with a single piece of content.
War Does Not Suspend Journalistic Standards
Working during wartime adds another dimension of responsibility.
Clearly, the state can and should restrict the dissemination of information that directly threatens people’s lives or the country’s defence capabilities. But it is critically important not to cross the line from protecting security into controlling society’s very right to know, ask questions, and criticise.
Restricting specific information for a specific security reason is not the same as restricting freedom of thought.
That is why wartime restrictions require clear rules, transparent criteria, and mechanisms of oversight.
For journalists, this means even greater responsibility: verifying information, avoiding unjustified panic, not deepening social divisions for the sake of views, while at the same time not allowing the profession to become an exercise in self-censorship.
What Should a Young Creator Do?
Does this mean that a young creator should abandon trends, short videos, hooks, and the competition for attention?
Quite the opposite. The task is to learn how to use these tools – without allowing them to determine the substance of the content.
During the webinar, the speaker proposed a simple structure for a media product: hook – problem or conflict – evidence or a specific case – turning point – action or conclusion.
This formula works for a short video, a YouTube production, or a written article.
There is another piece of advice as well: do not immediately try to “invent a niche.” Instead, look for the intersection of three things: what genuinely interests you, what you are competent in, and what your audience needs.
And do not be afraid to start with a small audience.
A short video can become a doorway to a larger piece, while a long-form article can become a place where trust and authority are built. Different formats do not necessarily compete – they can function as a single media ecosystem.
Five Questions to Ask Before Publishing
Perhaps the most practical outcome of the discussion was a checklist that can be applied to any piece of content you create:
Is this a fact – or my emotional response to a fact?
Does the material demean a person or a group?
Does it offer a path towards understanding or action?
Has the source been verified?
Am I prepared to publicly take responsibility for this material?
These questions do not guarantee a perfect piece of journalism. But they force the creator, if only for a few seconds, to step out of the role of someone seeking a reaction and return to the role of someone responsible for their words.
More Than Simply Filling the Information Space
Perhaps this is the main difference between a journalist and someone who simply generates content. Content fills the feed. Media shapes the environment in which people think, argue, make decisions, and perceive one another.
That is why a successful media product is not necessarily the one that gets the biggest numbers today.
It may be a piece that, a year later, someone remembers by saying: “It changed the way I think.” Or an article that brought people together to solve a specific problem.
In a world where millions of messages compete for attention, perhaps the most important task for a young creator is not simply to learn how to speak louder. It is to learn how to speak in such a way that something remains after the words have been heard: a new understanding, a question, a willingness to listen to another person, or a desire to change something.
Because ultimately, the value of media is determined not only by how many people saw it, but also by what it leaves behind in our shared public space.
And if, after encountering our work, people become a little more attentive to one another, gain a better understanding of a complex issue, find common ground, and become ready to act together, then media is working not only for views, but for the common good.
Perhaps this is the creator’s most important responsibility: not simply to produce content, but to help build a society in which we want to live together.
