WHEN I graduated from university in 1997, it was with conviction that I would one day become an awardwinning journalist.

For context, my only exposure to that career choice up to that point was reading NME and Loaded magazine, doing movie reviews for the university newspaper, and the film All The President’s Men about the Watergate scandal.

You’ll understand I was pretty excited at what the future held for me.

I never wrote a word as a journalist from that day.

Instead moving into the perceived dark arts of public relations and marketing, and finally – one would hope – finding my home here at Brewin Dolphin where I endeavour to promote the firm as the thoroughly professional money managers that they are.

It still rankles from time to time though, that I didn’t make it to the hustle and bustle of the newsroom.

Spiking the dull stories, and shouting “Hold the presses!” for that earthshattering exclusive scoop.

Those actually working for the papers tell me frequently that it’s not all like that, and that it can be as dull as dishwater, but then they would, wouldn’t they?

We’d all be after their jobs if they were honest about it.

Or rather it did rankle, until very recently.

I’m not so sure now.

The way that the media has been vilified for partisan reporting of Brexit and all the myriad of issues that brings with it (with some justification, I concede), and particularly the downright hostility of the new Government in the US toward… well… everything, has given me pause for thought.

FAKE NEWS, Post-Truth Society. Call it what you will but the simple fact is that we’re slowly learning as a nation – as human beings – to trust no one.

“Trust no one” should only exist as a line in a spy novel, not as genuine advice on how to go about your life.

My jobs have always involved presenting something in a certain light, from a particular point of view.

Whether it was presenting an organisation’s take on a hot issue, promoting a product, or convincing people where they should take their holidays, it was always with a little rosetinting.

It was, however, never, ever, deliberately false.

Now though, whether it’s the size of a crowd, a non-existent terror attack, or extreme Mexican border makeovers, everything is up for grabs.

Things that were witnessed and accurately reported are slammed as “LIES!” or “WRONG!”

Things that were said are refuted as never having been said – and it’s a seemingly endless vortex of statement and counter-statement.

It’s either some kind of brilliant smokescreen for something even more terrible lying in wait undiscovered, or it’s just a case of sheer brassneck in the face of utter incompetence.

Whatever the truth (and where I would find that these days, I’m not sure), I certainly don’t envy the task of a journalist any more.

See, with the industry I work in now, you simply can’t lie. You can’t even tint things rosily.

All you can do is reinforce credentials, show how good past performance has been, and come to work every day with a bunch of really great people who work really hard for their clients, and know you’re going to get the truth.

So I’ve accepted I’ll never get to bring down a President like Bernstein and Woodward; never get to interview glamourous movie stars like Michael Parkinson.

But hey, at least I know where I stand, and these days, being sure of anything is quite something.