The legendary Malaysian rock band Exists has offered a nostalgic yet pointed reflection on how journalism once served as a protective barrier for entertainers in an industry increasingly vulnerable to rumour and digital backlash. Speaking at the Riuh Pi HAWANA concert in Butterworth last week, the band's members highlighted the critical gatekeeping function that mainstream media editors performed during the golden age of print, when allegations and complaints against artistes underwent rigorous vetting before seeing public light.

Lead guitarist Along articulated this distinction with particular clarity, describing how the editorial process of yesteryear functioned as a professional safeguard. When fans submitted grievances or stories to newspapers and magazines, editors would carefully evaluate their merit and veracity rather than rushing unsubstantiated claims into print. This methodical approach meant that journalists frequently reached out to the artistes in question, requesting their perspective and allowing them an opportunity to address accusations before publication. The result was a media environment that, while not perfect, at least incorporated basic standards of fairness and journalistic rigour into how entertainment industry figures were portrayed and discussed.

This protective mechanism served a dual purpose for Malaysian artistes of that era. Beyond shielding them from baseless gossip masquerading as news, it helped preserve the boundary between public professional lives and private personal matters. Along emphasised that editors understood certain information was sensitive enough to warrant additional scrutiny, preventing the casual invasion of privacy that has since become routine in digital spaces. The stakes were also higher for traditional media outlets, which faced potential legal consequences for publishing defamatory material, creating natural incentives for accuracy and restraint.

The contrast with today's media environment could hardly be starker. Along lamented how quickly unverified content now proliferates across social platforms, with individuals casually recording and uploading photos or videos without considering consequences for their subjects. The absence of editorial review means that misinformation spreads at velocity, with comment sections rapidly filling with uninformed speculation and hostile commentary. For working artistes, the psychological toll of constant, unfiltered criticism can be severe, forcing contemporary performers to develop thicker emotional skin and exercise greater caution in their public behaviour simply to avoid becoming targets of digital fury.

Vocalist Mamat offered a complementary perspective, emphasising how the collaborative relationship between Exists and Malaysian journalists had sustained the band's relevance across more than three decades. He characterised journalists not merely as reporters documenting career milestones, but as genuine supporters who provided space for the band to navigate industry challenges and evolve artistically. Mamat acknowledged receiving more journalistic attention than many Malaysian artistes, yet described how coverage often included constructive counsel and encouragement rather than sensationalism. This dynamic created a feedback loop in which responsible journalism and artiste development reinforced one another, producing a healthier ecosystem for Malaysian rock music.

The warmth in Mamat's recollection underscores something often overlooked in discussions of media decline: the tangible professional and emotional support that serious journalists provided to creative workers. The relationship transcended transactional reporting; journalists invested in understanding artistes' work and contributed meaningfully to conversations about artistic direction and industry health. This proximity allowed for honest dialogue about challenges, both personal and professional, conducted with discretion and mutual respect.

Bassist Musa provided a particularly vivid illustration of how differently journalist-artiste relationships operated in the 1990s. He recalled an entertainment journalist who became so committed to understanding Exists' creative process that the journalist rented a recording studio specifically to jam alongside the band members. The journalist spent hours observing and participating in Exists' musical development, demonstrating a level of engagement that transformed professional duty into genuine camaraderie. Musa interpreted this behaviour not as journalistic excess but as evidence that the relationship between media professionals and creative workers operated on a foundation of mutual interest and reciprocal respect.

Despite critiquing current information conditions, Musa remained emphatic about the continuing necessity for professionally trained journalists in entertainment coverage. He distinguished sharply between legitimate journalists—individuals trained in language precision, sensitivity awareness, and ethical decision-making about what merits publication—and the proliferation of amateur online commentators and gossip-mongers filling information vacuums left by declining traditional media. Musa argued that professional journalists establish standards and exemplify responsible practices that influence broader media culture, essentially raising the baseline for content quality and ethical conduct across the entire information ecosystem.

This perspective carries particular weight for Malaysia's entertainment industry, which has experienced significant disruption as print publications contracted and audiences fragmented across social platforms. The decline of professional editorial oversight has not produced a more democratic or transparent media landscape; instead, it has enabled the spread of unverified rumours, created opportunities for coordinated harassment campaigns, and eliminated the structural protections that once shielded artistes from the worst excesses of public scrutiny. The absence of professional gatekeeping has proven more damaging to artiste welfare than its presence ever was.

The Exists band members' reflections also illuminate a broader pattern in Malaysian cultural discourse: the underappreciation of institutional expertise and professional standards in an age of democratic information sharing. While social media has democratised the ability to publish and comment, it has simultaneously demolished quality controls without replacing them with functional alternatives. Entertainment figures today cannot opt out of the digital sphere without career consequences, yet have virtually no protection against coordinated attacks, invasion of privacy, or circulation of fabricated claims.

Looking forward, Musa's implicit argument suggests that Malaysian entertainment industry stakeholders might benefit from consciously supporting quality journalism, recognising it as infrastructure that enables sustainable creative careers. This does not require nostalgic longing for a print era that will not return, but rather conscious investment in contemporary journalism that maintains professional standards—whether through traditional outlets, digital platforms, or hybrid models that combine the responsiveness of online media with the editorial discipline that print journalism once enforced.

The observations from Exists come at a moment when several Malaysian media outlets are experimenting with subscription models and audience engagement strategies designed to restore some editorial authority and economic sustainability. Their success may partially determine whether future generations of Malaysian artistes benefit from the kind of professional journalistic support that Exists took for granted during its formation and early career. The band's nostalgia, then, functions as inadvertent advocacy for institutional arrangements that contemporary media economics have made increasingly difficult to sustain.