As the world reels from yet another natural catastrophe, where lives are both lost and forever changed, the reporting of these tragedies and our consumption of them appears to be changing.
Instead of simply reading, watching and listening to what’s happening in order to be informed, in touch and aware, there’s a sense in which the way the reports are packaged and broadcast is like consuming pornography – disaster pornography.
There are explicit images, lingering close-ups, hyperbole, and constant streaming of calamity on a scale difficult to fathom. TV shows and news bulletins offer extended coverage. Some channels forgo regular programming and offer disaster, when it occurs, 24/7.
And you have to wonder, is our appetite for this growing and the stations are merely meeting demand or, are we being fed something we find distasteful and distressing and don’t know how to object to without sounding heartless and uncaring?
Is pornography too strong a word? Probably, but let’s examine the evidence.
Close to home, commercial and social media played a very important role when it came to the Queensland floods, Cyclone Yasi and the floods and bushfires in Victoria and Western Australia. Local journalists in particular, found their stride as they both suffered and described what they and their neighbours were enduring.
Like the news correspondent of old, someone embedded, familiar with the cultural terrain and able to offer a context or personal perspective on events, these journalists wrote and spoke from the heart.
Images and stories kept the public well informed, often simultaneously provoking and allaying feelings of helplessness, as those outside the danger zones watched and waited and, where they could and in whatever manner, aided.
Overstatements were occasionally made as some were caught up (understandably) in the emotions – they experienced the calamity with all their senses, becoming conduits through which we, the public, reached understanding.
In an effort to emulate that very personal style, commercial broadcasters sent reporters – their ‘stars’, those both familiar to viewers and accustomed to relaying facts, to be on the ground and grab any story they could – particularly those of triumph over tragedy.
In this mercantile era, humanity and commercial interests often colluded rather than collided – mostly to the satisfaction of all.
Then, the waters, fires and winds receded, new stories developed, and so did the networks and the publics’ short-term memory.
Just ask those left high, dry and financially (and every other way) stranded.
When the community mumbles of discontent began, unhappy with the way some networks were so eager to fly reporters into areas they didn’t know, to confront people they wouldn’t normally relate to in order to grab a headline and sate viewers’ appetites, Christchurch was rocked to its foundations.
Once more, we watched aghast, as images were beamed into our homes and stories of horror, hardship and hope travelled across all media and into our hearts.
Over the ruins, the reporters came, some (not all) clambering to new lows in order to get that story – the one that would catapult them into headlines (which happened), sometimes exploiting people’s misery and shock to do so. Functioning more like eager ambulance chasers, looking to inject excitement if not entertainment rather than empathy, they stayed a few days or hours, enough to authenticate their ‘on the spot’ reporting, then departed.
If there’s anything we’re guaranteed in this life, it’s where there’s mayhem and misery, the tabloid media aren’t far behind.
Never strange bedfellows, they became, in a disastrously short time, committed lovers.
And now there’s Japan to renew the relationship. More shocking, heart-breaking stories of death, dying and desolation are being told. Alongside those, the occasional tales of ‘miracles’ are also shared to remind us that even in the darkest of times, good things can and do happen.
Filled to the brim with all this disaster and the endless repetition of stories, it’s hard not to develop compassion or even tragedy fatigue.
While some are glued to their screens – in all media – others are turning away and looking for any distraction other than all this suffering.
It’s not that they don’t care – it’s that they do – possibly too much. And they care that there’s something exploitative about the way some of the news from these grief-stricken regions is being delivered.
Not to fulfil a public need so much as a ratings goal.
It’s easy to think we’re becoming desensitised to tragedy. It happens with pornography as well. The more that’s consumed, the more the consumer becomes addicted, seeking a new level of arousal, of excitement; they demand more explicit material in order to simply feel.
In his book, Danse Macabre, Stephen King offers another explanation – only this is in regard to popular culture. He believes we watch and read material that scares and makes us despair in order to remind us of our mortality, to revivify moribund lives and make us appreciate what we do have.
Perhaps the same process occurs with these tragedies. That’s why we watch and demand more from our media. To remind us of how lucky we are compared to those who have their lives torn, washed and burnt away.
We still have choice.
For some, increasingly, that choice is to remember that human misery is serious – it’s not entertainment or an excuse for self-promotion or photo opportunities.
Something about which certain media outlets and personalities, in their quest for dominance, appear to have lost sight.
Thanks for articulating what I’m feeling too, Karen.
I’m getting particularly annoyed when that Karl (whatever his name is) and those two from Ch 7’s breakfast show, kept popping up in the tragic disaster zones in Christchurch.
This time around it’s in Japan’s utter devastation. Now I don’t look at reports – I know this is a shocking tragedy for all concerned, I don’t need the reporters’ babble.
There is an exception – the ABC’s Foreign Correspondent journos. They revisited those annihilated towns they’d made stories in over the years, and people they met and liked who are now dead. From them the unfolding tragedy is palpable and real and not for the purpose of ratings.
Exactly, Sheryl, it’s the difference between correspondents and reporters. It’s so sad. I am not sure the producers understand how the public are beginning to recoil from this type of thing… I watch it because I feel I have to and get more and ore distressed – at the images and the eagerness to get ‘people on the ground’. MIchael Laws, in the Sunday Star Times in NZ, wrote a piece that was even more hard-hitting than mine. It is great. I hadn’t seen it till last night (long after I filed). But he talks about the media getting in the way of volunteers and rescuers and their demand for number os casualties – for statistics and how, in their drive for a headline, they built up and dashed hope :((( Thanks so much for your comments.
I agree, Desolie. According to the opinion piece Michael Laws did in NZ, the Deputy PM urged parents to keep their children away from the TV. But it’s not just kids… I mean, I am all for knowing, understanding and I think being horrified is how we should respond and more. But not relentlessly… The Kiwis, Japanese (and everyone else in the globe who has fallen victim to natural and other disasters) and all the Aussies directly effected by the recent catastrophes here provide us all lessons in resilience and coping. Even those who don’t 🙁 I am sure they don’t want to relive their awful experiences and be reminded of their losses over and over either….
I am becoming so distressed from all the tragedy that I am loath to turn on the news programs. It is all too much. I feel hopeless to help, and therefore need to somehow disconnect from the suffering of these poor people. All I can do is pray for hope for those left suffering. Thank you Karen for articulating what we are all feeling.
You’re welcome, Elaine. I suspected I wasn’t alone 🙁
Karen your article is good at expressing what I too am feeling. In recent weeks I have had to get my husband to unplug the telly and take it to another room. I found myself glued to the screen becoming more and more morose as time wore on. Then feelings of anger and rage came up, when all you could bloody see was David Koch or Mel, at every disaster. Getting in the way, like Mel did in QLD.
And the extra burden they put onto the already stretched systems. Whew.
Anyway since I have reduced the t.v, and had my ant-depressants doubled life is slightly less stressful. I don’t mind these types of reflecting opportunities, just can’t stand the in your face, sensational reporting, seeing who is first with the latest.
I may never fully recover from the 21st century information overload syndrome, but I am working on it.
There is a place though for adult, calm discussion such as these type of forums. Thanks Karen, I remain your faithful reader, Jan. xx Good luck for your challenges.
Information overload indeed, Jan! I can’t see how the media don’t get in the way… You look after yourself, Jan and thank so much for your kind words!
Hi Karen,
I really enjoyed your article, even though I have a different opinion! I’ve been thinking about writing something on this myself, so I took the opportunity to put together my response to it as my first (and possibly last) blog post.
It can be found here:
http://anthonygough.blogspot.com/2011/03/japan-christchurch-queensland-and-media.html
Thanks for giving me the inspiration! Even though we disagree I think it’s really important to talk about this stuff.
Cheers,
Anthony
Hi Anthony,
I really enjoyed your blog and, despite what you might think, I don’t think we disagree as much as our approaches suggest. I understand the important role the media plays in times of crisis – and many individual journalists and programs do this responsibly and well. But the number of emails I received regarding the above post and the edited column also suggest that many do not and actually end up doing more harm than good. Did you read the Laws piece in the NZ paper I mention above? It’s very good too.
Thanks so much for linking your blog though. I agree, it’s so important to have these discussions. I sincerely hope it isn’t your last blog either!