©️ By @sophielewiseditorial | The Indie Leaks

I hold a UK press card. But if I had been born across the Irish Sea, I probably wouldn’t. Not because I couldn’t write, but because I wouldn’t have ticked the right bureaucratic box.

That’s not just speculation. That’s the reality facing hundreds of experienced Irish journalists trying to break into British regional media. It’s not about skill, or stories, or even ethics. It’s about one thing: a British qualification.

The NCTJ Trap

If you’re not familiar, the NCTJ (National Council for the Training of Journalists) is a UK-specific qualification. Many regional newsrooms treat it as a non-negotiable requirement. But here’s the issue: it excludes non-British journalists by design.

In Ireland, journalists don’t train under NCTJ. They study journalism through different systems, often with more on-the-ground experience than some NCTJ graduates. But when Irish reporters apply for jobs in UK regional press, they’re told they don’t qualify, literally.

“Irish journalists may work in Lambeth but not Liverpool, Camden but not Carlisle.”

If that sounds absurd, that’s because it is. London-based Irish journalists don’t face this wall. The door only slams shut when you try to work outside the capital. Regional editors say it’s about standards. But the truth is, it’s a border masquerading as a benchmark.

When Disability Disqualifies You

Declan McSweeney’s story cuts even deeper. He’s an experienced Irish journalist with over 18 years in the field. But when he tried to pursue the NCTJ route, he was blocked by one requirement: shorthand.

Declan has mild cerebral palsy. Shorthand was physically impossible. So he was disqualified, not for lack of talent, but because the system refused to accommodate him.

Even today, shorthand remains required in many modules. Which means the journalism industry is still quietly saying:

“If you’re disabled or neurodivergent, you’re not one of us.”

This isn’t inclusion. It’s institutionalised limitation.

You Were Locked Out. Then Blamed for Being Outside.

Declan was also told he’d been “out of journalism too long” to return. But that gap exists because of the barriers he faced. Because he was pushed out.

That’s what this industry does to anyone who doesn’t fit the template: pushes them out, then points to the gap as evidence that they don’t belong.

It’s not just Irish journalists. The same barriers hit migrants, older applicants, disabled people, working-class voices, and anyone who couldn’t afford unpaid newsroom placements. The industry keeps its gates locked, then acts shocked there’s no diversity inside.

The Point No One Wants to Make

It doesn’t work both ways. British journalists can and do work in Irish publications. Irish ones trying to work here? Good luck. You’ll need the right postcode, the right paper trail, and zero physical or cognitive limitations.

One national editor even admitted she’d never realised the NCTJ rule excluded Irish people. That should tell you everything about how unexamined this structure is.

Change Won’t Come By Invitation

Until legislation forces it, nothing will change. Because if exclusion is working for those in power, they won’t fix it. That’s why independent media matters. That’s why these stories need light.

Gatekeeping isn’t about protecting journalism. It’s about protecting access to power.

It’s time we said it plainly: Talent exists far beyond the limits of British qualification culture. And if the press can’t recognise that? Then it’s not freedom of the press. It’s just another locked door.