COLUMN: Four Reasons Why the Washington Post Is Dying

300 layoffs, closed offices, a mission abandoned

The layoffs announced on February 4, 2026, are not merely a restructuring. It is a purge. Nearly 300 of the 800 journalists were laid off—more than a third of the newsroom. Among them were long-time staff members: Lizzie Johnson, a correspondent in Ukraine, was laid off while covering the war from the front lines. Emmanuel Felton, a specialist in racial issues, was fired after denouncing “ideological motivations.” “This was not a financial decision, but a political one,” he wrote on X.

Which departments were hit hardest? International news (all Middle East correspondents were laid off), sports, culture, and podcasts. Even the infographics department—essential to modern journalism—was almost entirely eliminated. “You can’t gut a newsroom without consequences,” the Post’s union declared. “The public will be deprived of the on-the-ground journalism it needs.”

The worst part? These layoffs come after years of a slow bleed. Since 2020, the Post has lost half its readership. In 2024, it posted a loss of $100 million. And today, instead of investing to turn things around, Bezos is dismantling the paper. “It’s a textbook case of self-destruction,” sums up Marty Baron. “Bezos killed the Post with his own hands.”

I look at these numbers, these names, these shattered lives, and I think to myself: this is what “cost optimization” really means. It means firing journalists in the middle of a war. It means closing offices while the world is burning. It means sacrificing decades of expertise to save a few million. Millions that Bezos, for his part, spends lavishly on his space toys or his documentaries about Melania Trump.

What revolts me is the sheer indecency of it all. The indecency of laying off 300 people while Bezos sits on a fortune of $245 billion. The indecency of closing the Kyiv bureau while war rages. The indecency of dismantling a newspaper that broke the Watergate scandal, that stood up to Nixon, that served as a bulwark against abuses of power.

And what’s even more unbearable is that Bezos will never pay the price for his decisions. He will continue to get richer. He will continue to be invited into the corridors of power. He will continue to cloak himself in the mantle of a philanthropist. Meanwhile, 300 journalists find themselves unemployed. Tens of millions of readers are being deprived of information. And American democracy is losing yet another bit of its vitality.

So today, I tell myself: no, Bezos is not a savior. He is not a visionary. He is a destroyer. A destroyer of dreams, of careers, of truths. And history will not forgive him.

An Outdated Model and a Non-Existent Strategy

The Washington Post has long been a giant in journalism. But today, it’s outdated. While media outlets like The New York Times have successfully invested in digital, diversified their revenue streams (games, newsletters, podcasts), and attracted new audiences, the Post has remained stuck in a 20th-century model. “The Post failed to keep up with changing reader habits,” explains an expert. “It continued to rely on print and costly sections, without understanding that modern journalism must be agile, innovative, and close to its audience.”

The result: The Post has lost half its readership since 2020. Its advertising revenue has plummeted. Its digital subscriptions are stagnating. And today, instead of reinventing itself, Bezos prefers to dismantle it. “It’s a strategic mistake,” sums up a former executive. “Instead of investing in innovation, we’re laying people off. Instead of attracting new readers, we’re driving them away.”

Worse still: The Post has lost its identity. Once, it was the newspaper that exposed scandals, challenged those in power, and embodied critical thinking. Today, it has become just another publication, one among many, lacking distinction and daring. “Bezos has killed the soul of the Post,” sums up a former editor-in-chief. “He’s turned it into just another product—one that can be discarded when it no longer brings in enough revenue.”

I compare the New York Times and the Washington Post, and I think to myself: here are two visions of America. Two visions of journalism. Two visions of democracy.

On one side, the Times. A newspaper that stands its ground. That invests. That grows. That protects its independence. That stands by its choices. That, despite the pressure, continues to speak uncomfortable truths. And on the other, the Post. A newspaper that bends. That yields. That submits. That, out of fear or self-interest, abandons its mission.

And what’s tragic is that the Post could have been different. It could have been a bulwark. It could have been a counterweight to power. It could have been, as in 1972, the one to expose the lies of those in power. But no. Bezos chose the easy way out. He chose submission. He chose to turn a symbol into a cash machine.

So today, I tell myself: the Post did not die by accident. It died because it was killed. Because we chose to kill it. Because we chose money over truth. Cowardice over courage. Submission over independence.

And that is a betrayal. A betrayal of journalism. A betrayal of readers. A betrayal of democracy. And history will not forget that.

When the Public Turns Away

The Washington Post lost its readers. Not because of competition. Not because of the economic crisis. But because of its editorial choices. In 2024, the newspaper refused to endorse Kamala Harris, a decision that shocked its traditional base. “Readers felt betrayed,” explains a former reporter. “They felt the Post was abandoning its values to please Trump.”

The result: 250,000 subscribers canceled their subscriptions. Advertising revenue plummeted. The newspaper’s credibility collapsed. “People no longer want to read a newspaper that no longer defends their ideas,” sums up an expert. “They want a media outlet that represents them, informs them, and challenges them—not one that kowtows to those in power.”

Today, the Post has become a newspaper without an audience. Without an identity. Without a future. “Bezos destroyed trust,” says Marty Baron. “And without trust, a newspaper cannot survive.”

I think of those readers, those subscribers, those millions of people who have turned their backs on the Washington Post, and I tell myself: this is what it means to betray your values. It means losing trust. It means losing your audience. It means losing your soul.

What strikes me is the irony. Because the Post could have been a bulwark. It could have been a symbol. It could have been, as in 1972, the one to expose the lies of those in power. But no. It chose to cave in. It chose to submit. It chose to abandon its readers.

And today, we’re paying the price. A newspaper stripped of its substance. A newsroom in ruins. A brand destroyed. All because a billionaire chose money over truth. Submission over courage. Destruction over construction.

So today, I say to myself: no. No, we will not accept this. No, we will not let a billionaire kill a symbol of journalism. No, we will not let money stifle the truth.

Because democracy isn’t defended with press releases. It isn’t defended with budget cuts. It’s defended with journalists. With investigations. With uncomfortable truths. And today, more than ever, we have a duty to defend them.

When Money Kills the Truth

The story of The Washington Post under Jeff Bezos is one of betrayal. A betrayal of journalistic values. A betrayal of readers. A betrayal of democracy. In ten years, Bezos has transformed one of the world’s greatest newspapers into a symbol of what money and power can destroy. 300 layoffs. A gutted newsroom. Credibility in tatters. All of this to please Trump. To protect his contracts. To avoid retaliation.

Yet this story is not just one of failure. It is also one of resistance. The resistance of journalists who refuse to be silenced. The resistance of readers who demand better. The resistance of all those who still believe that journalism can—and must—be a bulwark against abuses of power. “The Post survived Nixon. It will survive Bezos,” says a former reporter. But for that to happen, we must act. Now. Before it’s too late.

Because The Washington Post is not just a newspaper. It is a symbol. A symbol of what journalism can achieve when it is free, bold, and independent. And today, that symbol is in danger. Not because of the economic crisis. Not because of competition. But because of one man. A man who has chosen money over truth. Submission over courage. Destruction over construction.

I look at what remains of the Washington Post, and I think to myself: this is what a newspaper becomes when it falls into the hands of a billionaire who understands nothing about its mission. A newspaper stripped of its substance. A newspaper silenced. A newspaper that, today, is nothing more than a shadow of its former self.

And what revolts me is that Bezos will never pay the price for what he has done. He will continue to get richer. He will continue to be invited into the corridors of power. He will continue to cloak himself in the mantle of a philanthropist. Meanwhile, 300 journalists find themselves unemployed. Decades of expertise are going up in smoke. Millions of readers are being deprived of information. And American democracy is losing yet another bit of its vitality.

So today, I say to myself: no. No, we will not accept this. No, we will not let a billionaire kill a symbol of journalism. No, we will not let money stifle the truth.

Because The Washington Post isn’t just a newspaper. It’s an idea. An idea of freedom. Of courage. Of resistance. And no one will ever be able to crush that idea. Not Bezos. Not Trump. No one.

So yes, let’s keep fighting. Let’s keep demanding accountability. Let’s keep defending what matters. Because that’s what the real fight is about. Not for a newspaper. But for the truth. For democracy. For all of us.

Signed, Jacques Provost