Two weeks ago, a female employee of CCTV was attacked in broad daylight in front of the building where she works. 

The suspect reportedly picked a random target to vent his anger against the media. Police soon caught the suspect. The bloody picture, which spread quickly through the Internet, has cast a chill on those who work in Chinese media industry.

In online comments, a few people joked about that a reporter today must have self-defense skills and some vowed to shun the profession in their next life. But there are also cold messages sneering that the media's intrusiveness had finally resulted in vengeance.

Despite the horrendous nature of crime, the incident received little coverage. Perhaps it is too minor compared with other social injustices taking place daily throughout the country. But worse, the cold response indicates a subtle sentiment that journalists aren't worthy of sympathy. 

A few days later, news came out that the Ministry of Health may blacklist reporters who intentionally mislead the public on public health issues. It is another blow to a profession already shackled by various restrictions. 

Public health is one of the sectors that have witnessed rampant corruption and accumulated deep public dissatisfaction. 

How this blacklist system is going to work remains unclear, but it would be an obstacle in the long winding road toward information transparency that is necessary to a modern society.

Reality is seldom black and white. Admittedly journalists in China do not enjoy a heroic reputation. But this is the case everywhere else in the world, where from serious journalism to the tabloids, the necessity of the press and the intrusion of their presence are both accepted and tolerated. 

In China, the latest joke is "Be wary of fire, burglars and reporters." This group of professionals is gradually being simplified as either arrogant imposing figures or rogues that would trade anything for inside stories.

The Chinese press is no longer a tamed group working under central instruction. Though officially guided publicity and stories dictated by the government do exist, as do photo ops and soft ads, they are not the main way of doing business in the industry. 

Cutthroat media competition has pushed the press into gray areas. But meanwhile, they are expected to shoulder the responsibility of maintaining social stability and order.

While theoretically, the importance of an open press has been acknowledged, in practice, reporters often feel shut out by the public, government and businesses.

 When the press turns its eye to something, the parties involved often use every means possible to prevent exposure. Journalists are cursed, abused and threatened to keep their mouths shut.

Last month, the official in charge of Beijing's airport expressway was caught on camera openly threatening a reporter after being challenged why the expressway, which is only supposed to charge tolls one-way, also charges drivers coming the other way who aren't aware of the rule.

Without a clear Press Law, journalists often operate in murky waters. China's underdeveloped libel laws mean they easily step onto explosive privacy issues, which consequently backfire.

Physical threats are not a remote possibility. 

There are already unofficial statistics that show working as a reporter in China today is as dangerous as bring a coal miner. To make things worse, the young bright candidates are often lured away by more profitable business, making the industry's future looks gloomier. 

The press isn't there to make people happy, but it is indispensable to a healthy society. 

Like other sectors in China's era of transformation, journalists are trying to fit into their new role, and they deserve a little bit more dignity.

The author is an editor with the Global Times. lujingxian@globaltimes.com.cn