Lynzy Billing is an award-winning investigative journalist of Afghan-Pakistani origins. She published The Night Raids in 2022, which exposed how Afghan forces, backed by the CIA, killed hundreds of civilians. The Left Berlin spoke to her at the Technoviolence conference in Berlin, during which she was one of the keynote speakers. A recording of the talk on Secrecy, Surveillance and Grassroots Resistance can be found here.
The media landscape has always amplified some voices and silenced others, which has been made even more obvious through the coverage of the genocide in Palestine. What advice would you give to people fighting systemic racism and general ethical failures in media environments?
It’s a vital and urgent question especially today as the vague and politically flexible label of “terrorism” continues to be used to justify state violence with near-total impunity.
When media systems fail ethically, people and communities must hold tight to their values and their own ethical voice, be rigorous and transparent about where info comes from—sourcing, context, and truth.
The media landscape has always played a powerful role in shaping public perception—amplifying certain narratives while silencing others. This is painfully clear in the coverage of Gaza, but it has always been clear throughout the so-called “war on terror”.
Today we are witnessing how the language of “counterterrorism” and “national security” is routinely used to justify state violence and excuse and obscure violations of international law. We see protest movements being labeled as “extremist” to justify crackdowns. My advice to those confronting systemic racism and ethical failures in media is to remain relentlessly critical of the language being used—which is often deployed to criminalize dissent, suppress marginalized communities, and legitimize mass surveillance or military action.
It’s crucial to challenge the frameworks that normalize state violence. Both authoritarian and democratic governments have used this ambiguity to act with near-total impunity. As a result, protest movements are branded as dangerous, while actual war crimes are downplayed or ignored.
Fighting back means uplifting alternative sources of information, holding media institutions accountable, and refusing to accept national security as a blank check for violence, without accountability, and with global norms eroding as a result. It also means building solidarity across movements and borders. Media bias isn’t just a failure of journalism—it’s a structural issue that reflects broader systems of power. We need to disrupt those systems, not just critique them.
We have also seen an increase in civil disobedience on the streets. Some scholars have argued that whistleblowing would also fall under the umbrella of that term. Would you agree?
I think it’s perhaps more useful to ask what even constitutes “whistleblowing” in 2025. I believe that expanding our notion of “whistleblower” to include community whistleblowing is critical in today’s context, especially when it comes to investigating national security policies and programs. Traditional whistleblowing often relies on an individual acting alone—frequently at great personal risk—to expose wrongdoing. While those individuals remain vital, we also need to acknowledge that structural injustices often require collective insight and action to uncover and challenge.
Community whistleblowing recognizes that harm—particularly within the realm of national security—often impacts entire communities, whether it’s through surveillance, immigration enforcement, or military interventions. These harms may not be fully visible from within an institution, but are deeply felt and documented by those on the outside.
In practice, expanding our concept of whistleblowing means valuing grassroots documentation, community organizing, and independent investigative journalism as forms of truth-telling. It also means creating protections and platforms for groups—not just individuals—who bring attention to abuses of power.
Most importantly, it reframes accountability as a collective process rather than a heroic act by a lone insider. In doing so, it broadens the scope of what we can investigate, who we can hear from, and how we can act to make systems more transparent and just.
Expanding the idea of whistleblowing from individuals to communities is crucial, especially in a national security context. Through my work in Afghanistan, I saw how entire communities were affected by deadly night raids conducted by CIA-backed Afghan units and they were the first to notice and document the harm against them. The people in these communities who witnessed night raids were just as much whistleblowers as the soldiers and intelligence officials who came forward to share their truths.
Community whistleblowing means recognizing grassroots efforts and journalism as valid forms of exposing wrongdoing. It shifts accountability from being an individual act to a collective process, which I believe makes investigations more inclusive and impactful.
With today’s overflow of information/content, leaking documents or breaking a big story doesn’t have the impact it used to. What can journalists do to make sure their stories are seen?
In today’s oversaturated media environment, breaking a big story or leaking documents isn’t enough on its own. Information moves fast, attention spans are short, and powerful institutions have become skilled at burying or spinning even the most damning revelations. So the question isn’t just how to break a story—it’s how to make sure the story actually has an impact in the real world.
Collaboration can play a key role. Journalists can amplify impact by working across platforms, geographies, and disciplines. It’s also not enough to publish in one outlet and hope it catches on. Journalists today need to think of ways to grow or expand their stories—using social media, partnerships and public events to bring stories to wider audiences and communities directly affected.
But of course, persistence is crucial. After publishing, journalists should return to important investigations, follow up, send them round to anyone who may be interested to read about the subject and most importantly those who are in a position to make change, and refuse to let them fade from public memory just because the news cycle has moved on.
There is also a growing distrust in legacy media. Is it still worth it to you to break a story with them or would you rather go another direction? And where should people be getting news and analysis these days?
Great question. It’s also a question that I think more people are asking as mainstream media outlets lose credibility, often due to censorship, false balance, state-aligned narratives, or outright disinformation.
The growing distrust in legacy media is real, and often deserved. Many mainstream outlets have failed to hold power accountable, and reproduced harmful narratives, or only responded to injustice when it became too loud to ignore. That said, breaking a story with legacy media can still be worth it, but they shouldn’t be the default or the only route.
Some journalists have become more interested in hybrid models—partnering with independent media, grassroots outlets, and even community organizations that are deeply trusted by the people most affected. These spaces often do the work with more integrity, nuance, and accountability than many big-name outlets. The priority should be: who will handle the story with care, and who will help make sure it lands where it matters?
As for where people should get their news and analysis: diversify your sources.There’s no perfect source, but there are many excellent options, if you’re willing to think critically and diversify your intake.
I find it deeply concerning how American politics continues to dominate international media. But what we are seeing in response is how people are following journalists whose work they respect and trust and reading their work, wherever it is published rather than just following legacy publications. I see people choosing to support independent journalism and resisting sensationalism.
So I would say, follow independent journalists, local reporters, and people on the ground. Look at investigative platforms that center marginalized voices. And most importantly, develop the habit of media literacy—ask who is telling the story, who benefits from the framing, and what, if anything, is being left out.
Trust isn’t something the media is owed; it’s something it has to earn every day. As audiences, our attention is now a valuable commodity, and we have the power to demand better based on where we give that attention.
How can we try and make our media consumption as unbiased as possible?
To make our media consumption as unbiased as possible, we have to start by diversifying our sources. No single outlet, or perspective, has the full picture. I often remind myself to read from a range of voices, especially those outside dominant institutions or mainstream narratives, because I think that reading from a wide range helps us recognize our own blind spots and resist falling into echo chambers. I think it’s important to read from sources and opinions you don’t agree with too, because this helps with justifying and clarifying your own perspectives.
But it’s not just about where we read—it’s also about how. We need to make space for complexity, both in how we understand the world and how we relate to each other. In a time of deep polarization, it’s easy to default to binary thinking. But real justice requires nuance. That means listening deeply, especially to those whose experiences don’t fit neatly into dominant or simplistic narratives.
We also have to actively challenge the structures, media, politics, and algorithms that flatten stories and reward outrage over understanding. Resisting bias isn’t about finding a perfectly “neutral” source—it’s about holding space for contradiction by allowing for disagreement without dehumanization, by insisting that empathy is not the same as equivalence, and refusing to devalue lives because they don’t fit neatly into our worldview. Ultimately, making our media habits less biased is about building a political and ethical culture that values curiosity—and refuses to let complexity be a barrier to action or compassion.