Diane Sylvester | for E&P Magazine
“Journalism really doesn’t have a lot of safety nets.”
This enlightening observation came from a journalist who, after over two decades of chasing stories for a metropolitan daily, decided that it was time to diversify their income stream. Because why not, right? Nothing screams “financial security” like gig work training AI software, especially when the side hustle involves improving large language models (LLMs). Who needs a steady paycheck when you can watch AI learn to write mediocre articles for a paltry sum?
“Initially, I was pulling in a hefty $400 a week,” they shared between sips of coffee and half-hearted optimism. “It was perfect for multitasking during football games, and it helped keep the wolves at bay.” Our brave journalist even opted for anonymity, probably fearing that their colleagues might shun them for not jumping on the latest “devil-may-care” AI trend.
The work at first seemed harmless: fixing grammar, fact-checking, and polishing text as if preparing for a writer’s award show. But like a plot twist in a badly written novel, it took a dark turn—a bit too close to a horror flick. “Suddenly, I’m testing AI to see if it would encourage harmful behavior. Dark stuff, you know? They did offer mental health support, which was nice. But all I could think was, ‘How did I get here?’” it’s hard to enjoy psychological services when you’re knee-deep in existential dread brought on by your jobs.
The gigs are often dubbed annotation, evaluation, or tutoring roles—because who doesn’t want to feel like a glorified school teacher when they can just scroll LinkedIn?
But the pay, oh dear, the pay. Initially a respectable $40 an hour, the journalist revealed with a smirk, “Now I’m down to $10 an hour, assuming I ignore the unpaid training that comes with it. Do you know how many hours of YouTube I have to watch? Spoiler alert: Too many!”
As if groping through a fog of disillusionment, our friend also added: “Assignments pop up like my ex on social media. Unpredictable and inevitably lacking in substance. It was fun until the thrill faded faster than a third-rate action movie.” Ah, the bittersweet saga of gig work!
Given the unpredictable nature of gig work and its meager rewards, it’s easy to see how it can lessen one’s enthusiasm faster than a soda left open overnight. A glance at Reddit confirms that our courageous journalist isn’t alone. Many report experiences of being ghosted after performing well on qualification tests, only to discover that they were disqualified days later—can’t anyone in AI simply accept a compliment?
Sitting at the crossroad of labor dynamics and ethics, a duo of investigative journalists, Kathryn Cleary and Marché Arends, revealed an unsettling reality—the global gig economy, especially in the Global South, is a labyrinth crafted for the wealthy, while skilled workers scramble for crumbs. It’s like offering gourmet meals to the rich while ensuring the working class survives on hot air and broken dreams.
As a veteran of the industry, Kathryn Reynolds Lewis summed it up quite nicely: “Over my career, I’ve watched talented colleagues leave like they’re fleeing the next horror blockbuster.” The existential crisis of journalism today feels like the plot of a bad sci-fi flick where everyone’s looking for work, but no one knows where to find it. “If you plan on taking on gig work, set a deadline and allocate time to search for better work. Otherwise, you may find yourself both overworked and underpaid in a swirling void of regrettable career choices.”
In a nutshell, if you’re going to dive into the world of gig work, do it like you would before a roller coaster—strapping in mentally, with the knowledge that you might not enjoy the ride. You certainly can’t buy happiness, but perhaps you can rent a fleeting moment or two while waiting for payday!
Diane Sylvester is an award-winning 30-year multimedia news veteran, currently working as a reporter, editor, and newsroom strategist. Reach her at diane.povcreative@gmail.com
