The ultimatum of modern news is watch or die
News is what creates the world around us. What we read, watch and listen to are portals—we are plugged in to the outside. The same question returns day after day: what is really happening?
The critically acclaimed BBC drama The Hour crystallized this idea. It paid tribute to the heroic work of journalists who dared to defy the filtered, establishment-friendly media and replace it with a new narrative. They proved that the government’s interests do not always gel with the interests of the people. It didn’t matter that proper coverage of the Suez crisis could cast doubt on Britain’s role as a colonial power—the truth just had to come out.
And with this truth came a narrative. In the 50s and 60s, people learnt the true nature of a ‘scoop’. Front page headlines got bigger, and the news became an increasingly violent phenomenon. As Adam Curtis puts it, journalism uncovered the strangest thing: ‘that there really were hidden conspiracies in the heart of the establishment.’
It doesn’t take much to gander across contemporary media for this to ring true. There really are. Notwithstanding ‘truthers’ or ‘birthers’ (i.e. ‘9/11 was a government operation’ or ‘Barack Obama isn’t American’), the world can be a disgustingly secretive place, and it is our responsibility to be aware of hidden corruption and intrigue.
Readers don’t need to be patronised by this being mentioned. On the contrary, we are flooded with this cultural and moral imperative every day: question those who stand above you. The truth may well be hidden.
It is not that this attitude is intrinsically wrong—our civil rights are, of course, based on it. But there is a thin line between righteous disavowal of established narratives, and complete and utter paranoia.
Modern news does this to you. ITV starts its segment with a sequence of apocalyptic gongs. BBC News pulses like a fevered heartbeat, whilst a non-melody of bleeps reminds us of watching a family member in hospital run out of life. This is no accident—it is a simple marketing strategy. Keep watching. If you don’t, something bad—very bad—will happen.
So what started as a cultural imperative has now turned into emotional blackmail. News has whole channels dedicated to it. News is on Facebook. News is now always in your pocket. There is no excuse not to be connected—we must always remain plugged in.
This may seem a trifle pessimistic. Indeed, an optimist may reply that this is a good thing. If news is so accessible, then surely we are entering an age where the people will have a lasting day-to-day relationship with the world.
But this comes at a price. We, as individuals, are being asked to house the wide and expansive world in our hearts. For what we have gained in inter-connectedness, we have lost in cohesion.
Think back to The Hour. What that program represented was a new narrative—a shift in discourse, aiming the conversation towards a lucid questioning of established norms. What do we have now? A directionless blur of headlines. Panic and confusion.
The word ‘apocalyptic’ is not a hyperbole. You could be forgiven for thinking that the world is about to cave in. But this is just another narrative: a narrative formed around chaos.
It is your duty to click on headlines with a purpose (and therefore delete the irrelevant Facebook news apps): to read and watch the news intelligently. Don’t think that its enough to be ‘connected’. The next phase for the information-age is how to deal with all its information. Sounds exciting? It isn’t meant to be.
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