When I tell fellow journalists about my work — especially my job title: “existential editor” — they are often puzzled. Some automatically assume I hold a degree in philosophy. But being an existential editor is not a philosophical exercise, and I do not write or edit with thinkers like Søren Kierkegaard or Jean-Paul Sartre in mind.
When I explain the nature of my work, many colleagues sigh with envy, wishing their media outlet had such a role, or a team with the same focus. At a time when journalism is increasingly frantic and fast-paced, the word "existential" clearly resonates with a collective longing for thoughtfulness and depth.
In 2021, I became the first-ever “existential editor” at Politiken, one of the largest news outlets in Denmark. The position was created after we noticed that content which centered human stories and took a narrative approach was attracting many readers. The idea was born to form a group, led by an editor, as a way to prioritize these efforts. From my desk — physically and symbolically located in the middle of the newsroom — I generate ideas, write stories, and lead a group of four dedicated, skilled journalists and an intern.
Our focus is on exploring what it means to be merely and gloriously human. But our work goes beyond just inserting emotional stories into the daily news cycle. Our stories must be rooted in, or connected to, something relevant in the news or the cultural zeitgeist. We aim for our journalism to feel urgent and meaningful to our audience.
For example, our newsroom shorthand for the kinds of stories we cover includes categories like “life stages,” where we address pivotal events from birth, to menopause to end-of-life treatment, or topics like life-threatening illness, navigating family life after a divorce, early retirement, or job loss. Another subject focus is “abstract concepts and contemporary issues,” where we write about things like femicide, fear of war, family secrets, climate anxiety, job satisfaction, and the loneliness epidemic.
Our coverage often addresses stories we refer to as having a “human relationships” theme — including romantic relationships, intergenerational dynamics, and issues of gender and sexuality. In 2024, one of our most experienced writers dedicated much of her time to exploring the theme of love.
We also have a category that centers human experience, capturing the lives of people affected by war, burnout, or violence, as well as firsthand accounts from those at the center of major events, such as a devastating fire or a mall shooting.
We believe the act of reflection provides a critical counterbalance to fast-paced news. To further that aim, we often incorporate a historical perspective into our reporting. For example, we did a series of articles on the now-adult children of former soldiers, exploring how having a parent serve in war — and return home changed — had shaped their lives.
Our articles also strive to highlight the intersection of the individual with shared human experience. We frequently use immersive journalism techniques, with a central character driving the story, but we also engage in explanatory and investigative journalism. Through the lens of “existential journalism” we invite our readers and listeners into other people’s lives, exploring concepts like faith, power, betrayal, and hope. Our goal is to help our audience gain a deeper understanding of others — and in turn, themselves.
Existential journalism follows a rigorous methodology, and we divide our approach into three distinct stages:
- The idea: The heart of a strong existential story often lies in the idea. We take abstract concepts and anchor them in human experiences or revelatory insights.
- The reporting: We approach interviews with a desire for depth, exploring emotions and nuances. This process requires time, and almost always a visit to the person or location at the center of the story. We gather concrete, lived experiences and sensory details to create a vivid sense of place and atmosphere.
- The writing: Existential stories must be well-crafted. We carefully shape the language and structure to ensure readers or listeners are drawn in and remain engaged as the narrative unfolds through scenes and reflections. We want our audience to feel as though they have entered a meaningful space — one that offers insight and food for thought.
There are many other factors that go into crafting compelling existential stories. Collaboration is key. We work closely with creative colleagues — cartoonists, photographers, graphic designers, and sound designers — to bring our stories to life.
Another core ambition of the team is to revisit our stories — checking back in a month, a year, or even longer after our initial reporting. This approach allows for reflection and signals to our readers that we genuinely care about the stories we tell. For example, I recently revisited a story I first covered 25 years ago about a tragic fire in Gothenburg, tracking down the same sources I had interviewed in 1998. One of my colleagues wrote about a couple navigating dementia. Years later, she followed up to tell the story of what happened when the husband moved into a nursing home and his wife found a new partner. Another colleague wrote about a man who advocated for assisted suicide but later changed his mind as death drew near.
In the Nieman fellowship class of 2025 of which I am a member, we have discussed the urgent need to engage readers, communities, and audiences more deeply. As people worldwide turn away from journalism, it has become even more critical for media outlets like mine to convince audiences that there are real human beings behind the stories we tell — not just anonymous institutions.
To engage readers, we must not only deliver the latest developments, soundbites or statements — we must also explain why a story matters to them as human beings.
I am proud to say that whenever Politiken applies an existential lens to a story, it is almost always a success. Readers spend more time on these pieces, and share them more widely on social media. They have also been found to drive significantly more subscriptions than the average article.
Today, Politiken is working on expanding the approach pioneered by the existential desk more deliberately across the newspaper. New written and audio formats are under consideration, and we are finding ways to make it even clearer to people that Politiken is a newspaper about human existence — for humans, by humans. In a time when news fatigue has become the norm and trust in media is declining, existential journalism might just be the antidote.
