It seems as good a time as any to add my 10 cents’ worth on the aftermath of the terrible mob attack on American TV news reporter Lara Logan while covering the recent volatile events in Egypt earlier this month.
Much was written, broadcast, blogged and tweeted about the incident, including in some places, a close focus on the sex assault that Logan was subjected to after being briefly separated from her camera crew amid a frenzied crowd.
To say the incident is abhorrent and disgusting invariably qualifies as understatement of the year.
However, so too was a good amount of the subsequent detailed reportage and commentary abhorrent: whether from citizen journalist, Joe Blogger or the professional media. Moreover it was entirely unnecessary.
For too long now, journalists have increasingly become part of the news story they are dispatched to cover, and this has contributed irreversibly to the evolution of ‘news-stainment’ and, to an equal degree, ‘churnalism’.
Now, before anyone reading this opens their mouth without thinking, or reading to the end of this post, and screaming at me prematurely: I am not for a single second suggesting that Logan somehow contrived to become a story herself. Far from it. No one with half a brain would put themselves in such a dangerous situation thinking, very misguidedly, that it would help secure their 15 minutes.
(BTW: a lot of ‘pieces-to-camera’ [a.k.a. stand-ups, in TV news parlance: the few seconds where most shallow TV hacks with great faces for radio decide to talk inanely into camera] are totally unwarranted, but that’s another blog-moan).
No, what I’m talking about is the rest of the news media that made Logan a story. Just one example: witness the front page masthead image and accompanying caption ‘Egyptian mob turns on star US journalist’ on the front page of The Australian (Feb 17) this week.
Star journalist? Star? I’m sure Logan is more than worth her salt and while I’ve not seen every last report she’s ever broadcast, I have seen enough to know that she keeps very busy and is dedicated to her job.
I’ve even had the pleasure of meeting Logan and briefly working alongside her when we covered the Greek embassy siege by Kurdish activists in London in 1999 for our own respective TV news stations. She is an immensely ambitious reporter in the true traditional spirit of the profession. A real news hound whose only interest lies in getting the story.
But, to hopefully underscore my point, who in the media focused on the other victims of the mob? How much coverage – read ‘sympathy and understanding’ – did those other victims receive? Erm, next to zilch beyond a token mention. All the coverage was simply, almost salaciously, about the sex attack on Logan.
Before this develops a narrow focus, I’ll also reference a great piece filed on The Punch website this week, too. Columnist Tracey Spicer touched on the ‘reporter-as-star’ aspect in reviewing the return of 60 Minutes to television screens; in particular reporter Michael Usher’s interview with a grieving family who lost their baby daughter in the horrific Queensland floods.
I didn’t see the original broadcast, but there’s sufficient detail in Spicer’s article that spells out the un-necessariness of the TV reporter’s extensive presence in his own story. Maybe 60 Minutes would argue that is just part of the modern format of the show, but it only serves to further diminish quality, impartial journalism in favour of shallow, ratings-driven news-stainment.
Of course, sadly we continue to head in the wrong direction insofar as hoping to ever turn around the cheap churnalism. Indeed there are citizen journalists and bloggers out there with a greater degree of sincerity and integrity by way of homage to the traditional pillars and values of true news journalism than actual, real, supposedly professional, paid journalists.
The advent of 24/7 news and the genesis / evolution of multimedia and social media tools and channels may have been inevitable but it’s no excuse for upholding a few basic news principles.
Unlike noisy children, the news media should be heard – but not seen. At least not as part of their own stories.
