 |
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
|
||
 |
 |
|
||
|
||||
 |
|
|||
|
||||
|
||||
Swarm JournalismAugust 29, 2008 Yesterday I read a funny story about what 15,000 journalists have been doing at the Democratic National Convention -- short version: schmoozin', cruisin', getting massages, and wearing terrible suits -- and of course it took me back to August 1993, when President Clinton vacationed on Martha's Vineyard, accompanied by family and friends and pursued by more reporters than I'd ever seen in my life. (OK, you've heard this story before, maybe more than once, but let's see where it goes this time!) When the president emerged from his retreat deep in the woods near the south shore, the reporters swarmed. But the president and his entourage kept pretty much to themselves for nearly three weeks, and neither press nor hoi polloi could get anywhere close, by land or by sea. So the press swarmed around the island instead, looking to amuse themselves and justify their salaries. It was not a pretty sight. If you know how summer resorts work, it's a no-brainer: someone between the ages of 14 and 70 who's sitting on the beach on a sunny afternoon with no children in sight probably isn't a year-round resident and may not be the best person to explain what living here year-round is like. (Year-round residents are much more likely to be at one of their two or three jobs, putting in 12- or 16-hour days.) The reporters didn't get it. I got the impression that their usual MO was to make a beeline for either a good-looking young woman or a crusty-looking old "character" (almost always, and maybe by definition, male) and write down everything they said. In some quarters, having some context, which is to say "prior knowledge," of a situation is seen to interfere with objectivity. This is only one of the reasons why objectivity is a crock. Another is that there's no such thing, and someone who's trying to sell you objectivity as a valid goal for journalists might as well be selling you tickets to drive across the bridge from here to Woods Hole. The trouble with prior knowledge, as with other kinds of knowledge, is that some of it isn't true and some of it may actually interfere with your attempt to understand what's going on. (These days it's a good idea to be skeptical of anyone who's trying to sell you religion, or religious differences, as the reason something's happening. But I digress . . .) If you land on Martha's Vineyard with some prior experience in a resort town, ideally as a working person and even more ideally as a "local," you'll tend to notice more and understand more of what you see. Experience with movie sets, theme parks, or Potemkin villages might come in handy, too. I digress again: back to those 15,000 journalists. Doubtless plenty of people are attributing this colossal waste of energy to corporate control of the media and Rupert Murdoch, while plenty of others are tut-tutting and asking what anyone expects from the godless, fornicating, booze-swilling liberal media. I've been disgusted enough long enough by the mainstream/malestream media that I haven't been a regular daily newspaper reader in 25 years, but I'm also a big fan of Occam's Razor, and I've learned not to attribute to corporate control what can be more readily explained by my own experience of human beings. My explanatory surmise runs something like this: News is commonly assumed to be the doings of powerful and/or famous people. Many powerful and/or famous people have converged on Denver for the Democratic National Convention. For reporters (irreverent as they claim to be) the holy grail is the scoop -- being the first to break an important story. True, the powerful and/or famous people at the convention are doing mostly predictable, less-than-worldshaking things, but there's always a chance . . . This is what the reporters are telling themselves and their editors (who are probably in Denver schmoozin' and cruisin' with the rest), but mostly they're in Denver for the same reason that plenty of Vineyard residents, summer and year-round, pressed up close to the chain-link fences and police barricades to get a glimpse of the Clintons when they arrived at Martha's Vineyard Airport: because that was the place to be. Most reporters go into journalism because they want to report "the news," which (as popularly defined) means the doings of the powerful and/or famous. So 15,000 journalists descending on Denver is no more surprising than 15 horsegirls descending on the nearest barn. And no more surprising than the protesters of various shades and stripes who have congregated outside the convention halls and hotels. Why are they there? Because the powerful and/or famous are, and because the reporters who swarm around the powerful and/or famous are there too. Because this is the spot, if such a spot exists, that "the whole world is watching." If anything happens, the chances are good that it's going to happen here. That faith thing again . . . So what about "corporate control of the media"? What I wonder is how much Rupert Murdoch and all the more faceless corporate controllers really control. What if they came down to the newsroom and announced, "The party conventions are so much hot air. We're not sending anyone to cover them this year. We'll take what we need off the wire"? Widespread rebellion in the ranks, I betcha -- and the corporate controllers, if they're smart (I think they're smart, or at least cunning), know that and will never come down to the newsroom and make any such announcement. That's what the conspiracy theorists tend to miss. (Yeah, I think an awful lot of the "corporate control" rhetoric is conspiracy theorizing in disguise, like I think that conspiracy theorizing is a very close cousin of religion.) Conspiracy theories are nearly always convoluted; they ask you to believe several impossible, or at least implausible, things before breakfast. Bring what you already know to the table and you'll probably come up with a more plausible explanation. Rather than blame the dismal state of the mainstream/malestream media on corporate control and Rupert Murdoch, think about most of the places you've ever worked. Many, many people will do the minimum possible to get by, especially if they've been on the job a long time and have learned that there's not much point in putting out extra effort. What's "the minimum possible to get by"? That's where the general "culture" of the workplace comes in. Where people take their work seriously and like the people they work with, the minimum can be a lot. Where no one gives a shit, it'll be not much. Editors, like other administrators and managers, can contribute plenty to what's expected -- or not expected -- in their newsrooms. And there's a synergistic effect between reporters and editors: day in, day out, they've got a dozen opportunities to either push each other a bit, or let each other off the hook. Now factor in the corporate owners, the advertisers, the Federal Communications Commission, or any other major influence. Many people will do the minimum possible to get by. Don't rock the boat. Don't say or do anything that might piss someone off, or even make them uncomfortable. If enough people say nothing for long enough, silence becomes the status quo. Status quo silence is hard to break, and over time it becomes harder. Unimaginable, even. You can cue up John Lennon's "Imagine" now. Not everything that's wrong with the Fourth Estate can be blamed on corporate ownership or Rupert Murdoch.
|
|
|||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
 |
|
|||
 |
|
|||
Home - Writing - Editing - About Susanna - Bloggery - Articles - Poems - Contact Copyright ©
Susanna J. Sturgis. All rights reserved. |
||||