The more time I spend here, the more I ask myself, what is the point of journalism? What is the point of reporting? It's all very exciting when you see young wannabe or already experienced journalists running around the Department with their mobile phones stuck between ear and shoulder or typing on the keyboard while struggling not to choke on the scorching coffee they're having with a greasy sandwich, also known as "lunch".
But, what is the point of being constantly informed? I have a sort of Orwellian feeling that all this information overload we are subjected to every single day leads us astray from real life. From real people. From the struggles of everyday life, from what really affects us. We, as journalists, try to give our audience a portrait of the world we live in. But who defines what the world is? And most importantly, who defines what's important and what's not?
When it comes to defining what's newsworthy, all too often we miss to consider that little word that is key to comprehend and fully grasp the motive underlying the failure of international news reporting: worth. When we talk about worth, we talk about values. And there's nothing more relative and biased than values.
What is valuable, what matters to people differ greatly from person to person, and differ even more greatly when it comes to consider the issue from a cultural perspective. This is why I hate so much the idea that British and American media have of international news reporting. When they do so, they believe they are unbasied and accurate. The huge lie is that they cannot abstract from their own culture, their own values, their own beliefs. Which is fine. The problem comes when big media such as CNN International or BBC World mould the image people worldwide have of other countries on the basis that such big organisations practise good journalism. Says who? Who set the standards of good journalism? British and Americans. Now, that's interesting. It's like being left-handed and playing a game where the main rule is "You have to play with your left hand." Obviously, those who are right-handed will fail.
Last Thursday, Peter Apps came to our class. Great guy, great journalist. His neck was broken on a car crash while he was assigned in Sri Lanka. He went back to work after nine months. No question: he's admirable. He works for a big news agency, Thomson Reuters, that provides wire services worldwide. One of my classmate questioned him about what makes a story worth being reported. And he said: "Well, in the end you have to look at who pays your salary!"
In the case of Reuters, it's partly subscribers' revenue, but mostly financial screenings. In their website, they claim: "Thomson Reuters is the world’s leading source of intelligent information for businesses and professionals." So, are we sure that the editorial choices aren't biased in the first place? They serve businesses and professionals, not the public. However, most newspapers and broacasters make large use of the information Reuters provide. And especially in the case of international news coverage, since most newspaper cannot afford correspondents abroad, the reliance on tentacular news agencies is inevitable. It's them setting the agenda. It's them choosing what stories are worth telling and which stories are not. On what criteria? What defines the newsworthiness of a piece of news when values worldwide are so different? The big boss. Companies from rich countries interested in knowing where the next war or natural is happening so they can divert their assets where it's more profitable.
In this Orwellian dystopia, journalists are powerfuls' puppets, aren't they? And I don't want to do that. I don't want to be part of this game. I don't want to provide news just to move the machine. I don't want to be the oil that makes the mechanism function better. And what bothers me the most is the self-righteousness of these media outlet. When they cannot properly sit and confront themselves with other values, other cultures. It must be part of the imperialistic frame of mind. I'll devote a post soon to the British habit of referring back to the Roman Empire.
The idea that they know it all, when they forget to place the smallest detail in the bigger picture. When the smallest element fails to be part of the picture: the single person. The people. Where are they in the business and money-driven reporting? Where are they? In one of Apps's slide there was a reference to the number of "bodies" when reporting deaths. As if people lost their identity as members of mankind when dead. We become bodies. We're no more people. Is it like that? He reports on finance and humanitarian crisis. Am I the only one who sees the utter contradiction of the combination? Money matters and humanitarian matters don't come hand in hand, I reckon.
But anyway, all this chatting to say this. I believe we should, as journalists, be much more humble and question the meaning of the principle of our job: what defines the news value? We should acknowledge that our profession is influencial, we mould people's mind somehow. People's view on the world depends partly on what we tell them. Which calls for a great responsibility we are urged to take. And with humility, we should challenge our values according to what matters to our audience. Something that we can only achieve on a small-scale level, when we can actually talk to real people and feel what they consider important, what matters to them. And after that, make sensible choices when we come to determine the newsworthiness of a story.
If we rely on international news organisations that boastfully aim at addressing an international audience, we fail to see that there is no such thing as an international audience. And that there is no agreed definition of what is the value of a story. We fail to see that values are culturally co-built within a society, and that there is no metre on which we can juxtapose such values and evaluate them. If we do so, we ignore diversity and become colonizers.
Instead of aiming at the truth -which is, however, the kind of goal a journalist will never achieve; truth is more a matter of discussion for philosophers or priests- we should, at the very best, try to depict reality, which is complex and multi-faceted. If we fail to do so, we run the risk of fuelling hatred and resentment by misrepresentating certain parts of society. The aim of telling the truth and depicting the whole world is an enterprise that simply goes beyond human capacity of judgement. And we mustn't forget that before being journalists we are human. But if we fail, the consequences of our failure might have disastrous consequences that we often ignore or shallowly consider, because we are mezmerized by the thrill of the profession. It might do more harm than good though. (I'm thinking about one of my classmates who came back from a training exercise embedded with some military troops that will be deployed to Afghanistan next year. She was excited at recalling the first explosion of a bomb. I wondered if she knew that bombs are meant to kill people and are not supposed to be fun in real world. When you can actually die any minute!)
In certain cases, is it better to tell the truth and wage wars or is it better to shut up and live peacefully? Is it better to serve vague word such as freedom, democracy and truth or should we serve real people made of flesh and blood? It's quite a dilemma.
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