Reflection of The WorId
by Ryszard Kapuscinski
Le Monde diplomatique (Paris), August 1999 (from World
Press Review)
Once journalism was a mission, not a career. Now, new technologies have
brought about a proliferation of the media. The main outcome has been the
discovery that news is a commodity whose sale and distribution can generate
large profits. In former times, the value of news moved within different
parameters, in particular the search for truth. It was also the stuff of
political struggle. The discovery of the commercial potential of news has
sparked an influx of big capital into the media. Internal wars between media
conglomerates have become more intense than the wars in the world outside.
Major teams of special correspondents sweep the world. They move as a pack
in which each journalist keeps a close eye on what the others are doing.
Getting your scoop becomes a matter of life or death. This explains why,
even when several major events are occurring simultaneously in the world,
the media tend to cover only one: the one that has attracted the pack.
New technologies have radically transformed relations between reporters
and editors. Previously, newspaper correspondents and reporters for press
agencies and TV had a relative degree of freedom and could follow their
intuitions. They could hunt out news, check, edit, and format it. Nowadays,
they have increasingly become pawns to be shifted to various places around
the world.
The editor, for his part, has news coming at him from a whole range
of sources and thus has his own assessment of the facts, which may be quite
different from that of the reporter covering events on the spot. Reporters
are the victims of the arrogance of their bosses and the media groups. A
cameraman from a major U.S. television company recently exclaimed: "What
more can they want from me? In one week I've had to film in five countries
on three separate continents."
This metamorphosis of the media raises a fundamental question: How are
we to understand the world? Until recently we learned our history from the
heritage of knowledge that our ancestors left us and from what archives
contained and historians uncovered. Today, the small screen has become the
new (and virtually sole) source of history, distilling the version conceived
and developed by television. Since access to relevant documents is difficult,
the versions of history circulated by TV-however incompetent and ignorant
they may be-are incontestable.
Rudolf Arnheim, the German cultural theoretician, had already predicted
in the 1930s that human beings would come to confuse the world perceived
by their senses and the world interpreted by thought, and would believe
that seeing is understanding, which is untrue. Television, in Arnheim's
opinion, could have become one of the more rigorous forms of research, feeding
our understanding. But it could just as easily make our minds lethargic
as enrich them. He was right.
The confusion between seeing and knowing, and seeing and understanding,
is used by television to manipulate people. In a dictatorship, censorship
is used; in a democracy, manipulation. The target of these assaults is always
the same: the ordinary citizen. When the media talk about themselves, they
conceal the basic problem behind the form: They substitute technology for
philosophy. They discuss how to cut, how to edit, how to print. They talk
about problems of layout, or databases, or the capacity of hard disks. They
do not concern themselves with the problem of the content that they are
about to cut, edit, and print.
Do the media reflect the real world in which we live? They do but, unfortunately,
in ways that are only superficial and fragmentary. Over the past four years,
the audiences for TV news on the three main networks in the United States
have fallen from 60 percent to a mere 38 percent. Of the topics presented,
72 percent are local in character and deal with violence, drugs, assaults,
and crime. Only 5 percent of their news output is devoted to news from other
countries, and many of them do not even manage that. In 1987, the American
edition of Time magazine devoted 11 of its cover stories to international
topics; 10 years later, in 1997, there was only one. The selection of news
is based on the principle, "the more blood there is, the better it
sells."
We live in a paradoxical world. On one hand, we are told that the developing
means of communication have connected all parts of the planet into a global
village; on the other, there is less and less space for international issues
in the media. It is a recent phenomenon in human civilization, too new to
have been able to produce the antibodies necessary for combating the illnesses
that it generates: manipulation, corruption, arrogance, and the primacy
of pornography.
The world of the media is a world unto itself. It operates at several
distinct levels. Alongside the "dustbin media" are some that are
excellent; there are marvelous television programs, excellent radio broadcasts,
and remarkable newspapers. Nobody can deny that in the world of print journalism,
radio, and TV, there are highly talented and sensitive journalists-people
who value their peers and who relate to our planet as an exciting place
that is worthy of being analyzed, understood, and saved. Often, these journalists
work in conditions of self-denial, and they do it with enthusiasm and a
spirit of sacrifice, shunning easy answers. Their aim is to bear witness
to the state of the world in which we live.
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