Back when I resolved to start writing again in 2012, I made a pact with myself not to use the vessel for that writing as a soapbox for touting my views on religion, politics, and all the topics that are far more deserving of byte-space than a reluctant relationship with Arsenal, coffee shops, why north London is better than south, and all the other long-sentenced posts that have made it to this blog over the course of the year. And whilst the great Book Abuser vs. Book Preserver debate of February came close to bringing this dank little corner of the Web into the partisan limelight, I don't think whether you dogear your books or not probably counts as a great political debate.
This, my dear audience, if you're still there in any shape or form (again, if you're that dog that's learnt to read and use technology, that business proposition is still open, and has evolved to include a bit of travel too, if you're that way inclined) is the resolution that I am about to break.
I'm breaking it now because, well, it's Christmas time, and in amongst all the good cheer of elbowing and arguing with your fellow shoppers, I thought I'd bring the tone down a little.
So, with no further ado, here's a little insight into one of the things I'm quite passionate about, and have debated/discussed at length over the course of this year. It's related to the news, to journalism, and to the way in which we as 'consumers' (for want of a better word) engage with these things.
Earlier this year, I took on a self-imposed embargo on reading the news. It was partly because I was finding it all so very depressing, and I thought I'd adopt the mantra "Ignorance is bliss". But it was mainly because I found myself "consuming" the news (there's that word again) in a non-critical way, and I was concerned of the implications of this. I figured that to not read the news at all would be better than to blindly absorb whatever The Metro was pumping out and recycling; to be an ostrich in the sand was preferable to reading articles intended to inform and influence as though they were novels to be sped-read and entertain.
The folly of this approach was highlighted to me by a friend, but I maintain that it was the right thing to do at the time. The holiday from the doom and gloom of the economy and conflicts, as well as the depressing frivolity of celebrity culture oft reported with the same energy as the economy and conflicts, was much enjoyed. The size of my world receded to my own life and that of my friends and family. It became manageable.
But soon enough I found that I was unable to take part in conversations about what was going on in the wider world. Opinions were being expressed that I was unable to judge as to whether I agreed with them or not, whether they were balanced or not. The friend that was horrified at my decision challenged me, which forced me to unpick my decision. The result was a discussion we'd had many times before - that of how the news is reported, and how that reporting is received by the public.
Earlier this year, I took on a self-imposed embargo on reading the news. It was partly because I was finding it all so very depressing, and I thought I'd adopt the mantra "Ignorance is bliss". But it was mainly because I found myself "consuming" the news (there's that word again) in a non-critical way, and I was concerned of the implications of this. I figured that to not read the news at all would be better than to blindly absorb whatever The Metro was pumping out and recycling; to be an ostrich in the sand was preferable to reading articles intended to inform and influence as though they were novels to be sped-read and entertain.
The folly of this approach was highlighted to me by a friend, but I maintain that it was the right thing to do at the time. The holiday from the doom and gloom of the economy and conflicts, as well as the depressing frivolity of celebrity culture oft reported with the same energy as the economy and conflicts, was much enjoyed. The size of my world receded to my own life and that of my friends and family. It became manageable.
But soon enough I found that I was unable to take part in conversations about what was going on in the wider world. Opinions were being expressed that I was unable to judge as to whether I agreed with them or not, whether they were balanced or not. The friend that was horrified at my decision challenged me, which forced me to unpick my decision. The result was a discussion we'd had many times before - that of how the news is reported, and how that reporting is received by the public.
The reason this is such a passionate subject for me is cobbled together from a number of influences: remnants of a History degree, where you analyse a source to death; an 'on the fence' attitude where a recognition of multiple sides of a story will often leave me paralysed with indecision despite knowing what my own views are; a fear that the viral nature of social media means that we often accept hearsay rather than challenging the truth of a story; and so on.
Let me get to the crux of this topic, otherwise I will find myself writing a terrible dissertation. And let me state that crux in clear terms. In fact, I may even use the Bold formatting option, and thus borrow one of the sensationalist design strategies often adopted by tabloids, when normal typography just doesn't say it loud enough.
Let me get to the crux of this topic, otherwise I will find myself writing a terrible dissertation. And let me state that crux in clear terms. In fact, I may even use the Bold formatting option, and thus borrow one of the sensationalist design strategies often adopted by tabloids, when normal typography just doesn't say it loud enough.
I fear that the way in which many of us read/watch/"consume" the news and journalism is very often not critical. We forget that journalists have their own biases, that they make mistakes, that publications will often have their own agendas and biases, that they're owned by someone and have to make money somehow. Even institutions such as the BBC get it wrong sometimes, despite their published Editorial Standards. The Leveson report has acted as a stark reminder that news publications are not saints that always act in the public interest.
This was a difficult area to navigate when we were simply reading newspapers or browsing news sites online. Now, with social sites such as Twitter and Facebook at our fingertips, with blogs and the rise of citizen journalism, the number of sources from which we can pull our news has not only multiplied exponentially; the number of channels through which we can now share the articles that strike a chord with us the most and through which we can share our own opinions and see those of our peers has also multiplied exponentially. The trigger-finger effect of sharing something means that opinions, wrongly-reported facts, propaganda, and so on can spread through networks in the blink of an eye.
I'm going to remove the Bold formatting. It's having a funny effect on my writing voice, and I can feel my opinions becoming less rational as a result. But that should get the gist of my passion across...
For an example of the speed at which misinformation can spread, we just need to take a look at the recent Facebook copyright hoax, or the ever-increasing list of celebrities that have been 'reported' as dead. Or the debate around journalists' use of Twitter, where an incorrect story can be retweeted across networks in seconds. And the more recent case of Lord McAlpine threatening to sue 10,000 Twitter users for sharing/making defamatory remarks about him.
And so, in an attempt to kickstart my new news-reading habits I resolved to do a bit of research first; to find out what the political biases of different publications were, who owned them, which editorial standards they themselves had published and committed to adhere to. I was assuming that somewhere there would be a magnificent guide to British newspapers, a friendly, non-partisan overview for all those that wish to know from where exactly their knowledge of current affairs was being pulled.
The only thing I could find was an article on Wikipedia.
The only thing I could find was an article on Wikipedia.
Which begged the question: how do the younger generations learn about the biases of different publications? How do they know that they need to read the news critically? How do they know that citizen journalism and social media services, whilst important for democracy, alternative viewpoints, etc, don't necessarily need to adhere to the same standards as more 'official' news channels, and still need to be challenged for accuracy? If we as adults so easily make these mistakes and haven't sussed it for ourselves, how are we to help those that come after us to navigate the news in a world of social media and a currently unsustainable news business model?
And just trying to follow the recent escalation in violence between Hamas and Israel took up such a considerable amount of my time, as multiple news sources filled up my day so as to not rely on a single source or a single viewpoint. That was for a single news story - how are we to do the same for every story? Mobile apps such as Google Currents help massively with this, letting you aggregate multiple news sources in a single, user-friendly design, but it's still so time-consuming.
One solution that the aforementioned friend and I came up with was the possibility of a bi-partisan news publication, where the main stories of the week would be covered by journalists and citizen-journalists (perhaps bloggers) from a spectrum of attitudes. A single factual piece accompanied by a number of opinion pieces, with clear profiles for each journalist. I was recently introduced to The Times of Israel, an online news source that almost does precisely that - draws it content from a wide spectrum of authors and journalists, and has declared itself as having no partisan affiliation.
And so, on that note, I shall bring this piece to a close. Similar to a rambling piece I wrote back in August, the best we can ever do is to remember to read critically, to be aware of our own biases, to ask the whys, the whens, the wheres, the hows, the who's of the news pieces or opinion pieces we're reading or watching or sharing. To not limit ourselves to the echo chamber effect caused by just reading, watching and engaging with opinions that support our own, but to expose ourselves to the viewpoints of others and to be critical of those that we agree with.
And my views on the way in which we use social media to engage with the reporting of conflicts such as the Israeli/Palestinian one? Let me just leave you with this, the only intentionally public post I've ever made on Facebook:
And my views on the way in which we use social media to engage with the reporting of conflicts such as the Israeli/Palestinian one? Let me just leave you with this, the only intentionally public post I've ever made on Facebook:
With the ink on the ceasefire still wet, and the smoke from the last bombs probably still in the air, I've finally been prompted to speak about Gaza/Israel and share my opinion. My apologies, therefore, to those whom this is irrelevant, to those who think it's pretentious, etc.
There will never be any prospect of peace - which is the only thing that will protect the children and civilians that ultimately suffer - unless both recognise their fundamental similarities. Arabs are not inhuman. Israelis are not inhuman. The sort of senseless, thoughtless rhetoric that inevitably erupts on both sides helps no-one. Those that think otherwise and spread racist messages about both sides need to engage with their rationality.
It's a complex conflict, with a messy history. It's not black and white. Don't rely on a single news source, don't blindly support either side and show an unwillingness to consider the other's position. The journalists often have their own biases, they make mistakes. Be critical of what you read, compare what different news sources are saying. Don't blindly retweet/share without considering where it's come from, whether it's accurate. Doing so just serves to build misunderstanding and hate.
However long the ceasefire lasts, it is unlikely we've seen the last of the air strikes, rockets, etc. So next time it kicks off, please be thoughtful. Yes, it's an emotional topic. Yes, we all get emotional when we read what's happening and see the images that circulate. With Israeli blood, and a lefty/pacifist disposition, I've shed tears, but for both sides. A purely emotional response doesn't help anyone. Engage with your rationality, let your emotions and rationality fight it out.
And let's hope the ceasefire lasts.
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