Oh, how beautiful the Panama Papers are...

For almost two weeks now, we have been witnessing a rapid reconquest: thanks to a certain John Doe, the fourth estate is regaining much of the relevance and reputation that it had lost in recent years through a combination of mordant inhibition and self-destruction. The financial scandals, which have been fished out of a flood of historical documents by research professionals, attractively edited and competently commented on, not only show the systematic corruption of our greatest political achievement, democracy. They also remind us that the watchdog function of our media is perhaps more important than neat tips on going out, funny lifestyle supplements and other industry-standard service junk. "Journalism means publishing something that someone doesn't want published. Everything else is PR." George Orwell knew the raison d'être of the journaille, and rarely has it been more visible and effective than in the current investigative festivals staged in Switzerland by the Tages-Anzeiger / Sonntagszeitung tandem.

It's no wonder that Arthur Rutishauser, the editor-in-chief of its two publications, wrote last Saturday that "the work of the global journalist network ICIJ has brought a lot of good [...] that we as participating media can be proud of". For HIS boss, however, this good lies "only" in journalistic profiling. At least for the time being. For advertisers, the conflagration ( Oh God ! ) sparked by a whistleblower ( Yikes ! ) is not a premium environment for image ads. And that doesn't just apply to big banks, fiduciary offices and law firms, but also to many other companies, especially those with a Swissness factor. The Panama Papers are unlikely to make a dent at the newsstand. And even if they did: Any circulation success would be disproportionate to the effort involved in this immense mole work. However, when it comes to researched scoops as a competitive advantage that will also have a commercial impact at some point, Tamedia publisher Pietro Supino seems to be thinking long-term for once - fortunately for the five editors who have been released from all other obligations for months. And even more fortunately for the Swiss public, which has been so carefully informed about blatant abuses.

But Rutishauser and Supino are also lucky. Because only members of the International Center for Investigative Journalism, or ICIJ for short, have access to the Panamanian treasure trove of data. The fact that the three Swiss ICIJ networkers are all on Tamedia's payroll is probably due to the innovative working conditions at the cross-title research desk in Bern. The noble department launched four years ago, which also had the exclusive Swiss rights to Offshore, Swiss and Lux Leaks, seems to be slowly paying off. However, such a monopoly position naturally arouses mistrust and collegial jealousy. While the state-supporting SRG broadcasters and the notoriously Scoop-sceptical NZZ are not only critical but also appreciative, the weekly newspaper (of all places!) considers the ICIJ model to be a journalistic step backwards compared to the good old Wikileaks days. This is because the raw data is now only shared within a circle of insiders instead of with everyone, as Assange radically did. Yet the journalistic achievement lies precisely in honing this raw data until it becomes fact-rich but comprehensible stories, which can then develop their socio-political impact.

Regardless of the investments made by leading publishing houses, the Panama Papers and their preparation are primarily a worldwide advertisement for globalized non-profit journalism à la ICIJ. The investigative consortium, founded in 1997, is itself part of the Center for Public Integrity, a US-American original cell of the increasingly important donation-financed journalism. The Panama Papers reveal for the first time the full potential of this Orwellian cooperation model. After all, anyone who takes on the Putins of this world so thoroughly is better able to spread the risk of repression across as many shoulders and institutions as possible. In addition to the asymmetrical publication tactics, the omertà with which the whole operation was planned and executed with a general staff is also impressive. This refreshingly unjournalistic mixture of secrecy and solidarity lends the whole thing a clout that even unsettles the most powerful and corrupt for the first time. And that, at least, is a start.

Oliver Classen is media spokesman for the development policy organization "Berne Declaration". He previously worked as a media journalist.