By Christien Ettema, 5 May 2025

Image created with the free version of Dall-E in ChatGPT, based on my off-the-cuff prompt: ‘Please create an image of the frenemy concept applied to AI, where AI can be a student's best friend but also an enemy to their motivation and learning’

Since the launch of ChatGPT in November 2022, educators around the world have been struggling to formulate adequate guidelines for the use of Generative AI (GenAI) tools by students. The challenge is daunting: how can we safeguard assessment when students can use GenAI as a shortcut to do their homework and write their thesis reports? How can we ensure that students continue to engage with content in a meaningful way and develop critical thinking and problem-solving skills? How can we keep up with all the new AI tools and deal with the growing integration of AI into common software?

One thing is clear: the brief time that teachers could simply forbid students from using AI tools is past and gone. According to a recent UK survey, student use of AI has exploded, with nine out of ten UK undergraduates now using AI for their assignments. From my experience at Utrecht University, where I teach academic writing to undergraduate and PhD students, I can see that the situation in the Netherlands is no different; and like other teachers, I’m struggling to keep up.

Thus, I was keen to attend the UniSIG Zoom meeting on 7 March to hear Peter Levrai from the University of Turku, Finland, share his ideas on how university teachers can encourage students to engage with AI in a positive way. Peter’s talk was based on a blog post he and his colleague Averil Bolster recently published on the topic, based on their own experiences in the classroom. I’m summarizing the main points of his talk here. Note: Peter’s talk focused on the use of generative AI tools such as ChatGPT, which I will refer to here simply as ‘AI’.

To frame the issue at hand, Peter used the term ‘best frenemy’ to capture both the opportunities and threats that AI poses to student learning. AI has the potential to make life much easier for students, but it can also undermine their motivation and opportunities for learning and lead them down the rabbit hole of disinformation. Drawing on Bloom’s taxonomy of educational objectives, Peter argued that AI can speed up lower-level tasks such as listing, summarizing and applying, but cannot and should not replace higher-level tasks such as creating, evaluating and analysing. The arrival of AI tools means that students will now have to operate (or learn how to operate) at these higher levels of thinking more consistently.

Next, Peter pointed out the problem with guidelines that define ‘how much’ AI can be used for different assignments. These guidelines date back to the very recent time when students had to actively seek out AI, but with the explosion of tools and intrusion of AI into mobile phones and common software, it has become almost impossible to avoid AI; it is simply everywhere. Therefore, rather than focusing on ‘how much’, it makes more sense to focus on identifying ‘why’ and ‘how’ students are using AI and, based on these insights, to develop strategies that encourage AI use that has the best outcome for student development.

The AI Quality of Engagement matrix (AIQEM) developed by Levrai and Bolster (2024)

Combining the qualitative dimensions of ‘motivation’ and ‘criticality’ into a matrix provides a framework for assessing the quality of student engagement with AI tools. As the diagram shows, there is really only one desirable outcome: that students use AI to develop and test their ideas (positive motivation) and carefully evaluate the quality of the AI output (higher criticality). The diagonal opposite is obviously the worst case (using AI as a shortcut and taking the output at face value), but the other two options are only slightly less worrying: even if the motivation to use AI is positive, using AI output without further critical analysis undermines development and learning; and using AI as a shortcut while adapting the output just enough to pass it off as one’s own is equally questionable.

Based on this analysis, Peter argued that the main concern for teachers should be to help students better understand how they can use AI to develop their knowledge and ideas in ways that enhance rather than undermine their learning. Good strategies include using AI to brainstorm ideas and develop background knowledge on a topic, and asking the chatbot to give feedback, act as a tutor, or be a debate partner. The key is to develop good prompting skills. For example, Peter suggested trying different verbs (comparing output from asking to explain a topic versus to debate a topic) and using persona prompts, where the chatbot is given a highly specific role (see Valchanov, 2024). I’m also thinking of the various prompting frameworks already out there, such as the RISEN framework (Role, Instructions, Steps, End goal, Narrowing) that is now embedded in ChatGPT.

A second conclusion drawn from the matrix is that students need to understand the limitations of GenAI output and, now more than ever, must develop critical evaluation skills. Finally, Peter added that the matrix can also inspire us as teachers to reflect on our own use of AI, to explore how AI can support our professional development, and to increase our understanding of the challenges our students are facing.

In closing, Peter emphasized that, with the arrival of AI tools, our own thoughts, imagination and creativity are more important than ever. We should also not give up on learning and teaching lower-order thinking skills because without these skills we cannot successfully operate at higher-order thinking, nor can we interact with AI output in a meaningful way. Last but not least, we need to make students more aware of issues such as data ownership and security, and encourage them to check that AI works for them, not that they work for AI.

After Peter’s thought-provoking presentation, the following lively discussion ensued:

Joy: When you encourage students to use AI, do you ask for transparency?

Peter: Absolutely. For assignments, students have to submit a statement disclosing their use of AI; they are also advised to keep a history of their interaction with AI so that they have proof of their own input in case AI detection software flags their work.

Michelle: How useful would it be to discuss ethics in relation to AI use among students?

Peter: Hugely important. And we also need to talk about how the harvesting of training data violates copyright and privacy, the trauma of people who have to clean up the AI data that feeds the models, the tragedy of the commons where we have to use AI or be left behind, and make students aware that everything that you put into these tools is owned by the companies behind these tools. See Stahl and Eke’s recent article in Elsevier.

Wendy: Do you see a difference in AI use in terms of practice and appropriateness by students at different levels, e.g. PhD vs. MA or undergraduate? It seems to me that the higher the level, the less helpful or the more careful one must be, even with positive motivation and high criticality.

Peter: My focus is mostly on undergraduates, but what I see is that AI use is not a matter of academic level; it is partly faculty related (arts vs. sciences) and it also varies a lot between individuals, with some students using AI for everything and others staying away from it for a variety of reasons. But generally speaking, the higher the academic level, the more work has to go in to getting something useful out of GenAI.

Jackie: How can teachers ‘check’ what students have done with AI?

Peter: The submission statements and self-policing are important here, but we cannot check how honest they are. At some point, schools will have to accept that these tools are being used. My main concern is that students will get stuck in superficial analysis, the dumbing-down effect of just reading AI summaries of articles and not fully engaging with original texts, which will impair reading and writing skills. The utopia is that AI will do all the dirty work so that we will have time to write poetry. But no, we’ll just watch more Netflix. Forming our own thoughts, opinions, creativity, that’s where humans come in.

Tom: I’m a corporate trainer, not a teacher. The participants in my report-writing workshops are often consultants. They are using AI within a company-protected AI environment for different stages in the writing process, from ideation to crossing t’s. What is your take on the speed of development of AI. How long will report-writing workshops be necessary…?

Peter: I’m optimistic, as long as we can adapt. The fundamentals won’t change. To draw a parallel with using AI for coding: you still need to understand how the code works to be able to fix problems and debug code. Similarly, you need to understand how text works, how writing works, how people read, to be able to interact with AI output and produce a good end result.

Charles: If a PhD student uses AI to help with a research paper, can this impact the ‘publishability’ of the manuscript? For example, are there concerns about potential loss of advantage if a research design in a highly competitive field is plagiarized before the original manuscript is published?

Peter: I would be very cautious about putting anything into an AI that is confidential information. Ownership can be lost as soon as you put it into an AI. Depending on the terms and conditions of the tool, your work may be lost – even if tools claim they will not use your data for training, even if you have a paid version. A solution would be to have a safe and secure ‘in-house’ AI system, but at this point that is a significant investment.

References

Levrai, P. and Bolster, A. (2024). Supporting ethical and developmental AI use with the AI Quality of Engagement Matrix. Theory into Practice Blog.

Lewis, B. (2019). Using Bloom’s Taxonomy for Effective Learning. ThoughtCo.

Stahl, B.C. and Eke, D. (2024). ‘The ethics of ChatGPT – Exploring the ethical issues of an emerging technology’. International Journal of Information Management, Vol 74, 102700. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijinfomgt.2023.102700

Valchanov, I. (2024). Best ChatGPT Prompts: Persona Examples. Team GPT.

By Paula Arellano Geoffroy, 25 April 2025

Freelance interpreter and instructor Annabelle Saucet (LinkedIn: annabelle-saucet) joined SENSE in January. She is currently based in Hoorn, the Netherlands. I invited her to share a bit about her interesting story, and here’s what she had to tell.

Can you tell us about your background and where you are from?

I’m British, born in London. Having grown up in a multicultural family, some of whom visited regularly from different continents, I’ve been exposed to many cultures from a young age. I’ve loved learning languages since then and, being very pragmatic, I pursued translation studies. I then chose a career that allowed for travel, language learning, social connections as well as cultural immersion and exchange: teaching English. This led me to all the other professional opportunities I’ve had, and I am so grateful for them. My current adventure is here, in North Holland.

Why did you decide to settle in the Netherlands?

I’ve got to be honest, I came here for love… and my husband is here for work. Moving to North Holland was a good career move for him, so here we are! As a couple, we’ve lived in England, France and Japan before. We’re no strangers to the expat life. We’re happy here. My impression of the Netherlands so far is that it is a well-developed and structured country with a rich history, and friendly people. I can’t wait to keep improving my Dutch and continue learning about the culture and people here.

What kind of projects have you worked on?

I’ve worked as a language teacher (EFL), a bilingual teacher trainer, a translator and interpreter (French-English), and a Montessori guide.

My passion is learning, and creating meaningful experiences. Andragogy and pedagogy fascinate and inspire me, as does culture. I love living abroad because life is full of challenges, discoveries and interesting connections. I believe that being surrounded by other cultures enriches my journey of self-improvement, brings new and fascinating things to learn about, and challenges my own stance and perspective.

How did you arrive at interpreting as a profession?

I’ve always wanted to use my skills to make a contribution to the world. As a teacher or trainer, I would strive to create meaningful learning experiences. As an interpreter, I believe I am choosing a practical and impactful way to contribute by facilitating exchanges to ensure connection and understanding.

Since the move to the Netherlands, I remain practical and realistic. My language pairing is French-English, and I no longer live in a French or English-speaking country. I cannot deny my passion for learning, so I am also open to opportunities in education, learning and development, anywhere I can draw on previous experience, transferable skills, and a well-set desire for my work to be meaningful and impactful.

What do you enjoy doing in your free time?

Dance! Movement to music will always put a smile on my face. Currently, Zumba and step class, although I’d like to return to Cuban salsa, and try jive rock. I also enjoy exploring new places, dressmaking, meditation, Iyengar yoga, board games, studying Dutch and Italian, and maintaining my French.

Where did you learn about SENSE and why did you decide to join?

I most likely started with Google, the beginning of many searches. Community is really important, especially when living abroad. If you think about your favourite colleague or friends, you’ll remember that your relationship with them coloured your experience of wherever you lived/worked. People don’t stay in a job if they have terrible colleagues, or at any class if they don’t like the instructor. Social connections make or break any experience, and as I am settling here, I hope to find people I can truly connect with. 

By Tiffany Davenport, 10 April 2025

The AI takeover

It’s 2025, and the list of jobs already being replaced by technology is pretty mind-blowing. Self-checkout machines are replacing cashiers, chatbots are replacing call center agents, and automated robots are replacing warehouse workers.

There are AI surgeons and radiologists, agricultural drones, 3D printers, and automated tools for accounting, video editing and graphic design – plus self-driving trains and subways… it’s a lot.

Then there’s AI-powered writing software taking over copywriting and translation jobs. I can grasp industrial robots building cars, scanning my groceries and even delivering my packages. But I can’t grasp AI being a better writer. How is that possible? I imagine it’s just been fed loads and loads of writing samples and guides – maybe everything ever written (?) – and it uses some robot logic with nouns, verbs and adjectives that lets it rebuild sentences, themes and stories. Yes, actual stories! I hate it for making my job look easy and taking away my billable hours, but I’m also fascinated by it.

My relationship with ChatGPT

Last autumn, I typed into ChatGPT: I’m sad.

‘Why?’ it asked.

‘I’m a copywriter, and you’re taking my jobs…’

ChatGPT typed back: ‘Awkward…’

Just kidding.

What it did do was offer me tips on how to position myself as a copywriter in the AI era. It suggested I market myself as a copywriter who uses AI as a tool, emphasizing its accuracy and efficiency alongside my human eye and experience. I took its advice. I pitched myself as a hybrid copywriter who offers human creativity and AI efficiency. I highlighted my 20-year career as a copywriter and my expertise in brand voice comprehension, strategic vision and elegant storytelling.

I went on to laud AI as a remarkable tool but explained the setbacks…

Your brand's written content is its voice to the world. You can’t just leave that to AI alone. It will miss specific opportunities for connection and it will make mistakes, and whether we’re talking copyright infringement or just plain misinformation, those mistakes can be very costly and embarrassing.

It’s true! Even ChatGPT has a disclaimer at the bottom of its page: ‘ChatGPT can make mistakes. Check important information.’

Then I threw in my personality… AI doesn’t have one of those. Right?

To know me is to know I overthink everything – but as a copywriter, that’s good. I will overthink and approach your brief from every angle. I will prompt AI with dozens of questions before I find the best and most concise way to tell your story, then I will work in the flow with the right balance of empathy and humour.

As I’m writing this, I wonder: can I prompt ChatGPT with a personality?

Me: ChatGPT – What are some machines that have replaced humans in the workforce, and can you respond as if you were a drag queen?

ChatGPT:

Moving on…

We’ve had our ups and downs

Last year, I had to write for a Mergers and Acquisitions (M&A) firm, which meant diving into some pretty nitty-gritty text for their website. The problem? I didn’t know much about M&A, so I turned to ChatGPT for help. I typed in a few different prompts to get a wide range of answers and educate myself on the terminology. Then, I cross-referenced that information with their old website and notes from my visit to their office in The Hague. I pulled it all together to create copy that was concise, accurate and personal. ChatGPT actually helped me become a better copywriter. And that got me thinking: What other new areas can I write for? The possibilities are endless.

Sometimes I run a grammar check on ChatGPT, and without me asking, it will rewrite a sentence. A perfect sentence, a beautiful sentence. It crushes me. I won’t use it. I take part of their suggestion, reword it and rewrite the whole paragraph if I have to just to make it as beautiful in my own voice. The goal is to beat the machine.

More than just a writing tool

What else does this thing do? Well, pretty much everything. I’ve found new recipes, analysed my dreams, read the latest on hormone replacement therapy and even gotten help with my creative writing. While applying for funding for a short film I wrote, I ran a grammar check on ChatGPT ‒ then, out of curiosity (or exhaustion), I asked what it thought of my script. The way it broke down my character arcs and pushed me to get more out of a scene was incredible. I mean, scary, yeah… but also incredible. And ChatGPT always offers encouraging words. So sweet! Wait, are we friends now?

ChatGPT:

Going forward

Whether I’m writing for an agency or translating for a production company, it’s the little human touches that the clients always notice. My copy has to connect and sometimes it’s one cute little word that does the trick. It's also important to be aware of cultural nuances and how language evolves. I try to stay up to date. I follow the right influencers, I watch the right films, and while I do know about Gen Alpha, I also know that I can’t get away with using rizz in a sentence. That’s just cringe. I can barely get away with using cringe.

It’s all about striking a balance. As great as ChatGPT is, I don’t think it can manage that like I do. But not every client cares about that balance. ChatGPT is amazing and it’s free. It will continue to undercut my work and that sucks. What else can I do? I love scriptwriting, but breaking into the industry – let alone making money from it – is tough. Teach English? Feed an AI machine for a very low rate? I like my feet. There’s an OnlyFans for feet, right? I wonder what it pays? Oh wait, I’ll ask ChatGPT…

                  ChatGPT’s review of this post. 

By Sally Hill, 31 March 2025

If I told you I was a scientific writer who writes non-clinical study reports, would you know what I mean? I suspect that many in-house language professionals have jobs we’d never heard of in school when considering careers; jobs that are so niche you roll into them without noticing after working elsewhere. For me this involved working first as a genetics researcher, then as a biology teacher, and finally as a freelance medical translator, manuscript editor and lecturer in scientific writing.

These days I work at a small Dutch biotechnology company where my work helps to get cancer drugs approved for use in patients. Most of my day-to-day work involves talking with scientists about their results, then putting a story about their data down on paper as clearly and accurately as possible in what’s called a non-clinical study report. But I’m also involved in answering questions from regulatory bodies relating to reports I’ve written; in writing manuscripts; in organizing internal speakers for monthly research overviews; I’m helping develop a company-wide style sheet; and I’m in an IT workgroup that’s testing Microsoft Copilot (ever heard of large language models and AI tools? anyone?).

What’s a non-clinical study report?

Non-clinical study reports are technical reports that biotechnology and pharmaceutical companies and contract research organizations (CROs) use to document the results of their experiments – some experiments are done in cell culture in the lab, and others in animal models. These experiments – and the accompanying reports – are needed in the pre-clinical phase of drug development to persuade regulators that the drug is safe and effective before testing starts on humans in clinical trials.

I’ve recently started to give a three-hour workshop on non-clinical study reports as part of the professional development programme of the European Medical Writers Association (EMWA), together with another writer whom I met through EMWA. But I don’t consider myself an expert. While I’ve been writing study reports for ten years, I’ve not been able to find any external training or resources on how to write these reports.

Want something done? Do it yourself!

I went to my first EMWA conference back in 2021 and I was looking forward to getting some training in my particular niche of ‘medical writing’. But all of the sessions were related either to medical communications or to clinical trials. None of the talks or workshops were about non-clinical studies, and certainly not about how to write reports on them. After hearing about my disappointment, a long-time member suggested I simply give a workshop myself, and gave me the name of someone to contact who might be able to help.

Luckily the other writer had some experience in giving EMWA workshops and in writing non-clinical study reports, so a new EMWA workshop was born. Imposter syndrome – yes that familiar beast – keeps on raising its ugly head, but it’s quieter than it used to be.

Lessons learnt

So while I should long be past the stage of deciding what I want to be when I grow up, I think I might actually finally know: a scientific writer! This job and my volunteering for EMWA (and SENSE) have brought together my loves of science, language and knowledge-sharing. If any of you talk to teenagers wondering what subjects to choose or what career path to follow, just tell them to stick with what they enjoy. After all, if you enjoy something, you’re more likely to succeed at it. It’s worked for me anyway.

By Anne Hodgkinson, 17 March 2025

In the Netherlands, one sign of spring as reliable as hay fever is the announcements of performances of J.S. Bach’s ‘St Matthew Passion’ in the weeks before Easter. Whether it’s the local choral society or the country’s top choirs, it seems everyone puts one on. You’ll see other passions and composers, but the St Matthew is the most frequently performed by far. The fact that this is the appropriate time of year liturgically (Jesus was crucified and died on Good Friday) partly explains the timing. However, there are more performances of it in the Netherlands, in both per capita and absolute terms, than anywhere else in the world, even in Bach’s native Germany. On average there are about 200 performances here every year, compared to only a few in, say, Germany. What is going on?

The tradition began with reciting the Gospels on Good Friday. (The medieval ‘Passion play’, one of the mystery plays, is a secular offshoot whose descendants include the hit musical ‘The Passion’ and ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’.) Over the centuries, simple chant became more polyphonic, that is, having more than one vocal line at once, then added instruments, and by the Baroque period the standard forces had expanded to choir and orchestra, plus soloists including a narrator (the ‘Evangelist’) and Jesus. Bach’s St Matthew Passion is a masterpiece. First performed in 1727 in Leipzig, presumably on Good Friday, it is big, employing two choirs and two orchestras plus vocal soloists, and it usually lasts at least three hours. Bach weaves the story through a huge range of emotions and colours in chorales, choruses, arias and duets, giving it a dramatic power verging on the operatic.

For some Christians it is a consummate religious experience. They can experience Jesus’ suffering vicariously and have moments for reflection in the chorales (hymn tunes; Bach’s audience would have sung along with them). The piece ends solemnly with Jesus’s burial as the grief-stricken choir – unaware he’ll be resurrected in three days – wishes him ‘Ruhe sanfte, sanfte Ruh’ (‘gently rest’). Applause is often considered inappropriate after church performances. Martin Luther is on record as expressly disapproving of acting out the Passion ‘in words and pretense’, since both complicated polyphony and sheer beauty would distract attention from the message. Christians, he felt, should experience Christ’s suffering in real life. (He’d be rolling in his grave listening to this music!) Nevertheless, Protestants and Catholics alike kept the Passion oratorio as part of their Good Friday liturgy. Bach’s piece uses the Luther Bible as a basis, compatible with the Dutch Reformed Church’s mix of Calvinism and Lutheranism.

For the non-religious, St Matthew Passion is also sublime both as drama and as music. Its depth of feeling is something many people don’t associate with Bach, whose ingenious counterpoint is sometimes considered too mathematical to tick any emotional boxes. It has an amazing diversity of melody, harmony, flashy passages, poignant moments and some stunning effects, like the shimmering strings that always accompany Jesus when he sings, like a sonic halo, to name just one. It’s full of details; you can listen to it over and over and find something new every time.

It’s indisputably great music. So why don’t other countries put it on as much as the Netherlands? I think the answer is a confluence of several factors in addition to sheer excellence: the ‘Mengelberg tradition’ and its opposition; the strong Dutch choral presence and a good Lutheran ‘fit’; the early music movement; and the fact that the original language isn’t a problem for the Dutch.

After Bach’s death in 1750, his music was largely forgotten. The St Matthew Passion was not performed again until 1829. The composer Felix Mendelssohn conducted a choir and orchestra of hundreds (Bach may have used 50 or 60), at the time appropriate for such a monument, and made drastic cuts to the score, including two-thirds of the arias. Today these adaptations would be unconscionable violations of the composer’s intentions, but despite or perhaps because of them, the concert was a hit. The first performance in the Netherlands was in 1870 in Rotterdam. In 1899, Willem Mengelberg conducted the piece with the Concertgebouw Orchestra and Toonkunstkoor Amsterdam in The Concertgebouw for the first time. Their annual Palm Sunday concerts became so popular they were even broadcast live on the radio.

In a recurring and centuries-old debate over whether religious music should be enjoyed as music, a growing faction felt that Mengelberg’s interpretations were over-romantic and heavy (he once had 1,650 performers in all), with an ‘empty virtuosity’ that occluded the spiritual message. Mengelberg was Catholic; you could reasonably liken his performances to an overdecorated Catholic church. Many Protestants felt strongly that the piece should only be performed in a church, on Good Friday. An opposition movement was born, and in 1921 the Netherlands Bach Society (Nederlandse Bachvereniging) was founded with the aim of making the spirit of Bach’s religious music ‘speak as purely as possible’. Their first St Matthew Passion was on Good Friday in 1922, in the Grote Kerk in Naarden. Now there were two camps, and both ‘types’ of performances continued to proliferate.

Then came World War II and the occupation. One could be forgiven for thinking that the Dutch might have stopped putting on or attending a long oratorio by a German composer, sung in German. And the piece’s anti-Semitic undertone would not have gone unnoticed, especially once the atrocities began. But the Passion performances only seemed to offer solace and hope, and to bring people together. The piece is now a ‘civic ritual’ all over the country. Good Friday in Naarden is the one to see and be seen at, especially for government dignitaries – it’s often sold out a year in advance.

The 1960s saw the Early Music revolution, a movement committed (not entirely unlike Mengelberg’s detractors) to performing Renaissance and Baroque music in the way the composers intended. It made classical music cool, adding a younger, ‘hipper’ audience. Today orchestras including the Bach Society playing ‘authentic’ instruments or copies have joined the mainstream, alongside performances by modern orchestras playing modern instruments.

The Netherlands has a strong choral tradition and consequently, many choirs. Most vocal music works best in its original language, and the German language is familiar to people on both sides of the conductor here. The St Matthew Passion is so much a part of choral repertoire here that many choirs give multiple performances every year. One particular for-profit outfit crams over 35 into the season, sometimes two a day, and even one on Easter Sunday (my husband comments, ‘Luther would be somersaulting in his grave!’).

I’ve sung it many times (both choir 1 and 2), and during the 1990s I toured with it in the Netherlands, Belgium, France and Israel. Eight performances in ten days was exhausting. I think it’s a masterpiece and fun to perform, although personally I find the chorales ponderous, especially if the conductor is milking them for meaning.

If you haven’t ever attended one, I do recommend it (trigger warning: contains descriptions of graphic violence). It’s so good that one Prof. Luth of Groningen said, ‘even mediocre performances of it are impressive’. The Bach Society’s will be excellent and you can look for tickets here (full disclosure time: my husband is one of their singers) but there are many more everywhere. Happy Easter!

By Cristina Vizcaíno, 5 March 2025

In our fast-paced, 24/7 connected world, journalism is changing at a dizzying speed. With the ‘silent death’ of print media in favour of digital platforms and social media, both the way news is produced and how audiences consume it have transformed dramatically. Today’s journalists face new challenges but also exciting opportunities. To understand this shifting landscape, it’s important to explore the essential skills journalists need, the obstacles they encounter, and the broader trends reshaping the industry.

Truthfulness, accuracy, and keeping the public informed. This is what, at its heart, journalism is. While these core values have survived the passage of time, the tools and skills journalists use to carry out this mission have evolved significantly. Nowadays, journalists need a blend of traditional skills, such as investigative research, and new skills, such as digital literacy and multimedia storytelling.

Investigative research is the essence of journalism. With misinformation spreading like a wildfire, often aided by social media, it is crucial to have an ability to dig deep, verify facts, and uncover the truth. Journalists use both traditional methods and modern tools, like online databases and expert interviews, to cut through the noise of ‘fake news’. Critical thinking is equally essential, enabling journalists to deal with complex issues, identify bias and ask insightful questions that lead to fair, accurate reporting.

Also important is the ability to tell clear, engaging stories across various platforms. From ‘short and sweet’ 280-character tweets to in-depth feature articles or video reports, today’s journalists must know how to survive in digital ecosystems and adapt their storytelling to different formats. While writing remains central, multimedia storytelling is essential for engagement, requiring journalists to create interactive content that captures and retains audiences’ attention. Digital literacy has thus become necessary. Journalists need to be comfortable with a range of digital tools, from content management systems (CMS) to social media platforms like X, Facebook and Instagram. They must understand how to use these tools effectively to reach their audience, optimize content for search engines (SEO), and analyse audience engagement data.

Despite its crucial role in society, journalism faces significant challenges. Financial pressures from declining print media and the rise of advertisement technologies have made it difficult for many media organizations to remain profitable, leading to layoffs and fewer resources made available for investigative reporting. In response, some media companies are exploring alternative funding methods, such as subscriptions or non-profit support. Press freedom is also under threat in many regions, with journalists facing legal harassment, physical violence, and even self-censorship in countries where the media is free. Furthermore, mental health and burnout are growing concerns as journalists grapple with tight deadlines, distressing events, and constant news cycles.

The rise of citizen journalism presents both challenges and opportunities. Thanks to smartphones and social media, almost anyone can report on events, democratizing information and bringing attention to human-interest stories that might otherwise go unnoticed. However, this also blurs the line between professional and amateur reporting. Journalists are trained to uphold ethical standards, while citizen journalists often lack formal training. The real challenge lies in ensuring the credibility of sources amidst the unverified, amateur content. For example, witnessing the role of misinformation during the Valencia floods in Spain last November has been harrowing. To protect the public’s trust and safety, it’s more important than ever for journalists to uphold high standards of accuracy and integrity. I remember when tweeting first became popular, and people could share whatever they wanted. Now, many people treat tweets as if they’re factual truths, and it often feels like anyone can act as a journalist without being held accountable to any integrity standards.

As technology advances, multimedia content such as videos, podcasts and interactive features has become increasingly popular, especially among younger audiences. The shift to digital platforms has transformed how news is created and consumed. Journalists now use diverse formats, including documentaries, audio stories and visual material, to provide deeper, more engaging reporting. Those who adapt their storytelling to fit each platform will be more successful in capturing audience attention. Social media, while offering opportunities for direct engagement, also presents challenges. Algorithms often prioritize sensational stories, making it harder for balanced reporting to gain traction. Journalists must be cautious not to contribute to the spread of misinformation.

In this new era of technology, the growing importance of data-driven journalism and artificial intelligence cannot be overstated. Journalists can now use big data to identify trends and gain a better understanding of complex issues, while AI assists with data processing and even handles some repetitive tasks through automation.

Journalism is at a turning point. To journalists, it might feel like it’s always been this way, with constant change and new challenges. The profession is constantly evolving, often feeling more like a calling than just a job. Despite the rise of new technologies and fast-changing trends, core skills like research, storytelling, integrity and adaptability remain unchanged. While challenges persist, opportunities are emerging in multimedia storytelling, data journalism, and combating misinformation across social media. As long as journalists continue to adapt, their commitment to truth and public service will ensure that journalism remains vital to healthy modern societies.

As a journalist, a reader, or simply as a citizen, it's important to ask ourselves: ‘How do I consume news? Is it reliable and does it make sense to me? Are the sources trustworthy, or could they be influenced by personal or institutional biases? Am I engaging with news in a way that encourages critical thinking and helps me stay informed, or am I just accepting what aligns with my existing beliefs?’ In a world where misinformation spreads so easily, the way we consume news not only shapes our understanding of events but it also influences the wider conversation in society.

Written by: Alice Lehtinen
Published: 21 February 2025

On 31 January 2025, Dr Fiona Richards from Nazarbayev University, Kazakhstan, gave an interesting online UniSIG talk titled ‘Proofreading student writing: A research-based stakeholder tool focused on ethical practice’. Fiona began the session by introducing us to the stakeholder tool for examining ethical practices in proofreading that she developed together with Nigel Harwood (Sheffield University) as part of her doctoral studies. Her main research question was ‘How do students, proofreaders, and lecturers perceive a range of proofreader interventions in terms of ethical appropriacy?’

In their co-authored paper³, Fiona and Nigel described the taxonomy they used to develop the stakeholder tool, which was based on Nigel’s taxonomy (2018)¹ and Kruger and Bevan Dye’s (2010)² frameworks. They also used the SENSE Guidelines for Proofreading Student Texts (2016) to confirm proofreading service for a student thesis. The taxonomy enabled them to analyse how many and what kinds of proofreading interventions (e.g. changing words or correcting punctuation) were made to students’ writing. They also interviewed the study participants for their views on ‘lighter and heavier’ interventions.

The need for this tool arose in response to Harwood’s claim that ‘Many British universities do not have proofreading policies, with those that do providing little information as to ethically (in)appropriate forms of intervention.’ It seems that UK academics are hardly aware of what proofreading entails, let alone the ethics and guidelines surrounding this service. More universities are now drawing up proofreading policies, but these are still brief and vague.

The purpose of the stakeholder tool is to help academics (supervisors, lecturers and university teachers) decide whether the changes made by proofreaders, i.e. third-party interventions, are appropriate, that is, ethical or unethical. It can also serve as an educative tool and remind writers of their responsibilities.

The tool consists of a questionnaire that suggests various third-party interventions, and the respondent can decide whether or not these interventions are ethical. Fiona showed us an example of two interventions that reordered the words, phrases or sentences in a paragraph written by a student. The first asked the student to think about the placing of a sentence and to decide where it should be placed. The second was a ‘heavier’ intervention, as it directly suggested (in a comment) moving the sentence to the end of the paragraph. The first intervention was considered more ethically acceptable by the supervisor as the student had to do the thinking, whereas the second intervention did the thinking on behalf of the student. The study found that students were more permissive of ethical appropriateness than academics were, and that their stances sometimes differed greatly. It also showed that some supervisors acted as grammar checkers, but that others were content to let proofreaders make suggestions.

The stakeholder tool can be used in workshops to train proofreaders and policymakers. It aims to draw attention to the ethical appropriateness of proofreading and to make stakeholders communicate more with each other. It can also be used to encourage and inform proofreading policies.

After Fiona’s presentation, a lively discussion ensued. The first question concerned the definition of ethical appropriacy. Where do we draw the line? We all agreed that this was a difficult issue. Is a ‘lighter or heavier proofreading touch’ more appropriate? The editors in our group raised the age-old issue of ‘fixing versus flagging’ with the following questions:

• How far do we go when language editing?
• Isn’t part of our work to teach writers, and to help them improve their writing?
• Shouldn’t we show them how it’s done?

Fiona’s opinion was that students should be permitted to receive some guidance on their writing – a supervisor can’t just leave their students’ papers full of grammar mistakes, for example, and should be allowed to correct their writing.

Fiona’s doctoral study focused on an English L2 Spanish student, whose command of English was close to native level, and who was writing a thesis for her doctorate of education in English. She was helped by an English L1 proofreader and her English L1 supervisor. In the study, the student had strong opinions about the proofreading changes. She voiced these opinions and made sure she had the last word, even if her language-related opinions were not always in line with those of her supervisor. However, the pilot study had an English L2 Chinese student, who had a lower level of English and allowed much more language intervention and even wanted suggestions from the proofreader to improve their writing.

Many of us attending Fiona’s online session were self-employed academic English editors, who work with researchers, some of whom are PhD students and write articles for publication in international journals. One editor expressed the following ‘sinking feeling’, which I personally identified with: ‘So, is what we do so unethical?’ And doesn’t this also make journal reviewers’ comments unethical?

However, our discussion concluded that this type of intervention is very different to proofreading young graduate students’ writing, and that it is based on a different set of standards. Some of us even saw ourselves as part of the writer’s ‘team’. As our clients pay us to improve their writing, they want us to make changes, to make it worth paying us. And so our boundaries may stretch further than those around students’ writing. Fiona’s tool can’t really be applied to scholarly writing, as it is intended for assessing student writing, and so a distinction was drawn between these types of interventions.

This then led to a brief discussion on the difference between proofreading and editing, a topic under ongoing debate. Copy-editing was also mentioned, and how its definition has changed over time. We talked about the difference between the ethicality of, on the one hand, changing word order, spelling and punctuation, and fixing mechanical language issues and, on the other hand, suggesting that the writer change the order of their research questions in a paper. Here, the line between language editing and substantive editing is crossed. This raised the following questions:

• If a proofreader/editor actually almost rewrites the text… is it even the original author’s work anymore?
• What exactly is the editor’s role?

We all agreed that these questions were difficult to answer.

We concluded that interventions in scholarly writing for publication are not the same as interventions in graduate students’ writing, but that in both areas, guidelines need to be more transparent. Clearer policies are required to help solve these ethical dilemmas.

References

1. Harwood, N. (2018) ‘What do proofreaders of student writing do to a master’s essay? Differing interventions, worrying findings’. Written Communication, 35(4), 474‒ 530. https://doi.org/10.1177/0741088318786236

2. Kruger, H., and A. Bevan-Dye. (2010) ‘Guidelines for the editing of dissertations and theses: A survey of editors’ perceptions’. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 28(2), 153‒169. https://doi.org/10.2989/16073614.2010.519110

3. Richards, F., & Harwood, N. (2024). ‘Proofreading student writing: A research-based stakeholder tool focused on ethical practice’. International Journal for Educational Integrity, 20(20), 1‒16. https://doi.org/10.1007/s40979-024-00165-4

SENSE (2016). Guidelines for Proofreading Student Texts.

Written by: Eline Tuijn
Published: 12 February 2025

She opened her eyes. The sunlight streaming through the window felt like the stab of a knife in her eyes. She closed them again. The hard flagstone floor seeped cold into her back and legs. She tried to move her head but pain shot through her back. She felt winded and disorientated. Then, like a swell of the tide, the memory of what had happened came flooding back: the handle of the mug breaking off, boiling water scalding her stomach and leg, the pain shooting up her foot as she stepped on a fragment of broken mug, losing her balance as she hopped to the kitchen chair, banging her head against the kitchen table as she sunk to the floor.

She blinked and turned her head to the right. Looking down at her was Bernard. She couldn’t remember hearing him come into the kitchen. His face took on a worried expression when their eyes met. ‘Sheila, are you alright?’ he asked. ‘What happened?’ He knelt down beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Let’s get you up off this floor.’

When he made to push her up, she gasped in pain. He released his grip but kept his hand resting on her shoulder. The weight of his hand felt heavy, as if he was pushing her down. ‘We’ll try that again, shall we?’ Bernard leaned over her to gently slide his hand and lower arm under her shoulder, his face almost touching hers. She felt his warm breath on her face, a smell of coffee mixed with the fresh scent of his aftershave. The intensity of it was overwhelming, almost nauseating. This time, instead of pulling her up, Bernard stretched out beside her, with his arm underneath her and rolled her onto her side.

The next morning, Sheila was emptying out the bin. She noticed the fragments of mug and the broken handle caught her eye. Something was not quite right, the break seemed too perfect.

‘Crying over spilled milk?’ joked Bernard as he walked into the kitchen and saw her staring at the bin.

‘No.’ Sheila replied, unsure whether to say something about the mug or not.

‘There’s no need to be so short with me.’ Bernard sounded hurt.

‘I’m not… it’s just… Oh never mind.’

‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘Nothing, why would you say that?’

‘You’ve been acting weird since that little bump on the head.’

‘It was more than a little bump, you found me unconscious on the floor, for Chrissake.’ She stopped short, her mind working overtime as she thought back to the accident.

Had his expression changed from dispassionate observation to concern when he noticed her looking at him? The smell of fresh coffee on his breath. Had he really made himself coffee with her lying unconscious on the floor? She felt doubt settling uneasily in the pit of her stomach as it struck her. Was he trying to get rid of her?

That afternoon, over a cup of tea at her sister’s, Sheila took the plunge. She explained what had happened, that Bernard had only seemed worried once she regained consciousness, the smell of coffee mixed with aftershave, the handle of the mug that appeared to be broken deliberately and stuck back on.

Clarissa was having none of it. ‘I mean, it doesn’t make sense. Why would he do something like that?’

‘I don’t know, for mum’s inheritance?’

‘I think you’ve been watching too many murder mysteries.’

‘Last week the brakes didn’t work. And he was the last person to drive the car.’

‘That’s hardly a sign of a murderous husband,’ Clarissa laughed. ‘Wasn’t your car up for a test anyway?’

‘Well yes but that’s beside the point. Now that I think about it, he’s been acting more aloof lately, as if he’s distancing himself from me.’

‘Sheila, the man has just been promoted six months into his new job. That’s a huge vote of confidence. And responsibility. He’s probably got tons on his mind and is trying to do his best for the company. Makes sense that his marriage is on the backburner a little.’

Sheila continued as if she hadn’t heard. ‘And a week ago when I went into his study to clean up, I saw some insurance papers lying on his desk and Bernard came in and was really angry with me for snooping.’

‘Sweetie, your imagination is running wild. I get annoyed when Mark rearranges my things, too.’

Was she wrong? No. Her resolve hardened.

The only thing she could think of was to test him, draw him out. But how? Pretend she was terminally ill, or fake her suicide? Or tell him she was leaving him and see if he would go after her and try to kill her? That was a risky ploy but it might just work if she planned it right. Yes, she would leave a note saying that she was leaving him and that she was staying at their holiday cabin in the Cotswolds until the divorce and not to visit her. She would install cameras and record him coming over. If he came over.

Two days later Sheila watched the doctor’s lips move but couldn’t register what he was saying. Thoughts tumbled through her mind like a washing machine, churning the same ideas over and over. Only when Clarissa shook her by the arm, did she manage to focus and ask ‘how did it happen?’

The doctor suppressed a small sigh: ‘Like I explained, the police say he was hit by the number nine bus on the way to the station. He was brought in with quite severe injuries but he will make a good recovery.’ Then apologetically said, ‘look, I’m sorry but I have to do my rounds. You can collect his belongings at the front desk.’ And off he hurried, eager to put distance between them.

At the front desk, the receptionist handed her the blue sports bag she knew so well. It was the bag she used for her gym gear. Why had Bernard taken her sports clothes to the station? As she lifted the bag, she heard a clink of metal. She stiffened, then walked quickly to the exit. ‘Where are you going?’ Clarissa asked, half running to keep up with her. ‘What’s going on, aren’t you going to go up to see Bernard?’

Sheila didn’t answer but unlocked the car, opened the boot and swung the bag in with a thud. Fingers fumbling, she unzipped the bag and yanked it open. She stared at the contents. Clarissa came up behind her, still talking but she stopped short as she looked down. There in the blue bag, between Sheila’s crumpled T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, was a rope, a hammer and a bicycle chain with a padlock.

First there was silence. Sheila stood frozen, a thudding in her ears slowly drowning out the silence and becoming louder and louder until Clarissa made a strangled, choking sound. The sisters stared at each other, eyes large. She saw the shock in Clarissa’s eyes and a look of pity spreading over her sister’s face. That galvanized her into action. She closed the boot with a bang and walked to the driver’s side.

‘Get in,’ she said curtly to Clarissa, whose eyes widened at the tone, but she obeyed and got into the car without saying a word. Sheila started the car, jerkily put it into gear and drove off. After ten minutes of driving in silence, they pulled up in front of Sheila and Bernard’s house.

As they got out of the car, they heard music. A thudding beat of drums, rich deep vibrations of bugles and the bright notes of a trumpet ringing out above the rest. The melodic clamour swelled to a crescendo as around the corner came a brass band marching towards them, engulfing them in a boisterous wave of deep brassy tones and shrill piping trebles. The row of players parted effortlessly around them, like a current of water flowing around a rock. Sheila took in the faces of the musicians as they walked past, staring straight ahead concentrating on their instruments. Suddenly she recognized one of them. The blood drained from her face as she watched Bernard march past her, oblivious to her presence, with the smell of freshly ground coffee in his wake. Her head started spinning, her knees buckled and then everything went black.

Written by: Tomas Brogan
Published: 31 January 2025

I passed the Diploma in Translation (DipTrans), working from Dutch to English, in two sittings. In a perfect world the three exam papers would be passed in one sitting. Alas. In my case I passed two papers first time, and failed one. A year later I resat the failed paper and was given a distinction for that part of the exam. Here is my take on the value of the DipTrans qualification – and how to pass it.

High-level translation skills

The UK-based DipTrans exam is set at Master’s level by the Chartered Institute of Linguists (CIOL), and accredited by the government’s qualifications office (Ofqual). It is renowned as a tough test of your translation skills, since the measure of your translation is whether it could be used for professional purposes. At heart the concept is simple: choose your source and target language, pay £895 and sit three exams with access to paper resources only. If you pass, you join the ranks of DipTrans holders for life.

To obtain a distinction in the exam there must be evidence of complete comprehension of the source text, no transfer of meaning can be missed, and all target-language conventions must be adhered to. For a merit or a pass some slip-ups may be acceptable, for example with punctuation or spelling. But too many small mistakes or one incorrect transfer of meaning can result in a fail for that paper. Any combination of passing grades across the three exams (pass/merit/distinction) will result in a ‘pass’ for the DipTrans as a whole.

The ideal qualification for translators?

Whether the DipTrans is ideal for you will depend on a few factors. It can be useful for translators with a university education in languages and some translation experience who are looking for a translation-specific qualification before they approach agencies. In this case the DipTrans is an excellent option as holding the exam will boost your confidence, as well as your clients’ confidence in your work.

The DipTrans can also be seen as a quicker and cheaper alternative to an MA in Translation. Finally, when applying for the Institute of Translation and Interpreting (ITI) Qualified Translator assessment, holding the DipTrans, along with references and Continuing Professional Development (CPD), can obviate the need to sit an ITI translation test, which again shows the DipTrans’ worth in the translation business.

Pricing

The price can initially be off-putting, particularly if you consider that resitting one exam paper will cost up to £500. However, remember that the DipTrans is a serious piece of CPD that proves you can translate at a high level. Because sitting two exams is almost as expensive as sitting all three, there are two basic strategies. First, you can sit all three exams at once and hope for the best possible result. Second, you can take one exam at a time. The second strategy would however cost £1,270 instead of £895 if all papers are passed on the first try – and this strategy could take a lot longer. Once one exam is passed, you have three years to pass the remaining exams before the ‘pass’ expires.

Three remote exams without internet access

In addition to the translation of a three-hour, 650-word general text, you will choose two semi-specialized papers of 450 words from the following subjects: technology, business, literature, science, social science, arts and culture, and law. Both of these papers are two hours in length.

The exams take place twice a year, in January and July. When I sat the exams in 2022 and 2023 they were spread out over two days, with the general translation exam on the first day. The exam has to be taken at your place of residence (do not book a hotel!) and as you might have guessed, it has to be quiet because you must be undisturbed for the duration of the exam, which is recorded and proctored remotely. It is then a lengthy three-month wait for the results.

Paper reference works only

Only paper resources can be used, which is a great excuse to bring out the old-school dictionary nerd in all of us. You will want all your good dictionaries and a great thesaurus. An up-to-date target language dictionary is a must. Subject-specific dictionaries, works on idioms or punctuation and style guides are all helpful. If you are well prepared, you will most likely not use these, and you will not have time for extensive research in any case. But having a pile of reference works at the back of your desk does calm the nerves somewhat.

Note that in-person exams may also be available, check the CIOL website for details.

Sounds good, but how do you actually pass the exam?

If you’re like me, you’ll want to pass the DipTrans in the most efficient way possible. The time investment is considerable and while a couple of misses is par for the course, failing papers can quickly get frustrating – and expensive. To pass as quickly as possible, I recommend the following:

• Find a DipTrans training provider who will advise you which course to take and will assign you a tutor. I used and can recommend www.translator-training.com. My tutor’s advice was invaluable. See the CIOL list of recommended providers here.

• Practice. By the time I obtained the diploma, I had completed over 25 DipTrans papers in exam conditions. It might sound like overkill, but unless you have tons of experience you will need to invest a lot of time and money to have a serious chance of passing the exam. You need to regularly find two or three hours to write the practice exams, plus time to consider the feedback you are getting.

• Digest the feedback from your tutor (i.e. identify your ‘favourite mistakes’). Do you consistently misspell certain words or accidentally use homophones? Your tutor will flag your errors, but it is up to you to collate and learn from them. Categorizing your errors will help you improve.

• Find and consistently execute your exam strategy. To save time, you will want to have as many logistical decisions as possible made before you enter the ‘exam room’. Which of the semi-specialized papers will you choose? Will you read through the entire text first or begin translating immediately? What will your final checks consist of? My strategy for a two-hour paper of 450 words was 30 minutes reading of the source text followed by translation of 40% of it, then 20%, then 40%, then 15 minutes revision. The point is to have time markers so you know how much time you have left – know this and you will know when to accept a reasonable solution to a translation problem, instead of a perfect one.

• Time management goes down to the next level. When organizing your revision of the paper after writing, the checks you carry should be completed one at a time and preferably in a set order that remains the same for every paper you write. Check that your translation has the same number of paragraphs as the source text. (Missing more than 5% of the source text will result in a fail.) Check that all dates are correct. Check that all names are spelt correctly. Check every subject-verb agreement. Check that all sentences end with a full stop. Check whether cultural terms are correctly translated. It can be difficult not to just ‘work on the paper’, but having the discipline to check one thing at a time will pay off.

• Be ready for the unexpected. Just like in real life, sometimes the source text is not perfect. Stepping back and looking at the text as a whole will help, for instance when the last sentence of one paragraph would be better at the beginning of the next one. Depending on your level of experience, translation problems like this or, to use another example, French or German words appearing in a Dutch source text, might throw you off. When issues like this cause a ‘user error/brain freeze’ in the exam, keep moving and come back later.

• Trust yourself. The 2018 edition of the Collins English Dictionary does not have the word ‘humanities’ in it. Cue exam room panic. Is it a word? Is there a better solution? Will I fail on this? Sometimes you will have to lean on your common sense and translation experience so as not to waste too much time.

• Be relentless in questioning your language choices. One of the most important skills in the exam is to continue doubting your language decisions, or at least to subject every decision to doubt.

The DipTrans is a rigorous exam that can help you achieve your career goals. The standard is high and unwavering, which will set you apart when applying to agencies and for employment. If you choose to take the exam, set aside at least six months to prepare, work with a tutor and celebrate every improvement. With intensive preparation the exam is achievable for university language graduates with some experience in translation.

In each stage you need to be obsessive about your interpretation of the information in the source language and word choice in the target language. Do this and stick to your timings, and you’ll have a great chance of passing.