Media Out of Hand: Sensationalism and Exploitation

Media outlets aren't stupid. Reports on Don Imus' remarks drive the ratings. Reports on the Virginia Tech shootings bring in advertising money. Even on a local level, the newspapers and television broadcasts are full of sensationalized accounts of the tragedies and misfortunes of individual people.

They get away with it because we let them. We eat it up. I'm as guilty of it as the next person, but I also know what it's like to be the one whose personal tragedy is exploited.

On a national level: Words and pictures

April was a big month for the news networks. First there was the Don Imus debacle. Whether his words were intentional or merely careless, Imus' comments about the Rutgers basketball team degraded females and non-whites.

Groups rallied against him, and discussions of free speech and discrimination were brought to the forefront. Those discussions are good ones to have when it comes to social responsibility with regards to freedom of speech.

The media latched onto these issues, clawing for something profound, something just beyond their reach. In doing so, they repeated Imus' comments over and over again, drilling them into our heads and into the heads of the women on the Rutgers team, as if hearing those words once wasn't enough.

On the heels of Imus came Virginia Tech. It was hard to avoid the seeing manifesto Seung-hui Cho sent to NBC during his downtime between shootings. The photos and video were splashed all over television and the internet. NBC, in all their media-savvy wisdom, thought it would be good idea to play video clips of Cho's rants and show photos of him pointing a gun at the camera. One photo in particular was shot with the camera close enough to the gun that we could imagine what it must have been like to look down the barrel and wait for him to pull the trigger.

NBC defended their actions, stating that they aired only a small portion of the manifesto and only after careful consideration of the victims and their families. They said the airing would help people understand why Cho killed so many people. But does it really help us understand?

Imagine being the family of one of his victims. Imagine what it must have been like to see those photos and know that's the last thing your loved one saw.

On a local level: A personal story

Car accidents happen every day. Newspapers usually publish brief, two inch columns that state the location of the accident, the names of the people involved, and the injuries sustained. But if the accident is horrific enough, media outlets will give it special attention.

In 2003, my sister was killed in an accident. When the police notified us, they said we were not allowed to see the car. We sent a family friend to the impound lot to collect my sister's belongings, but they turned him away. Nothing in the car was salvageable, they said. We wouldn't want to see anything that was in that car, they said.

The next day, the newspaper published an article about the accident. They included a large, full color photo of the car. Front page, above the fold where it would draw the most attention. The car was crushed, flattened, unrecognizable.

That photo was everywhere. In stores and newspaper dispensers. In our own newspaper box. We were out that day trying to make arrangements and take care of my sister's things. We couldn't avoid the picture.

Later, when I was given a time line of events, I realized my sister was still in the car when that picture was taken. I was disgusted and sick that the media would go to such lengths and publish a photo none of us, especially my sister's children, needed to see. It didn't add to the story. Its only purpose was to satisfy morbid curiosity and sell a few papers.

News is news. I get that and, as a writer, I'm okay with it. But it goes too far when the media preys on the misfortunes of others just to sell a few newspapers or up their television ratings. Hearing the same discriminatory phrase spoken again and again will not solve an issue. Seeing photos of Seung-hui Cho pointing a gun at a camera will not help us identify the next mass murderer.

My sister's death may not have been an issue of social responsibility or a national tragedy, but that doesn't make the exploitation of it any less hurtful. It's even more appalling when it's done on a national and international level. The Rutgers team didn't need to hear Don Imus' words repeated ad nauseum. The families of Cho's victims didn't need to see the barrel of the gun. And my family didn't need to see the car my sister died in. That image will forever stay in our minds.

None of that makes any difference. The media does it because we buy it. They know how to pay the bills. They make no excuses. Why should they when we're all glued to our televisions and only manage to complain during commercial breaks?