If you want coverage of your own personal Act of God or Act of War, you’d better be in Act One. Afterward the press heads to the lobby for intermission and refreshments. I get a stale whiff of disaster fatigue. We are a fickle media, you know.
The recurring story, the story that won’t go away, the been-there-done-that-story – each causes a decline in journalism’s interest.
Oh, we blame it on the news consumer. We “have an obligation” to recognize the public’s short attention span.
But in the rush to oblige, we satisfy our own itch to move on and our own inability to see a story through to the end.
The flooding in the Mississippi drainage basin is not the “Katrina of the Midwest,” they tell me. So it’s "unfair" to expect the level of coverage we witnessed wonderfully in New Orleans, Biloxi and beyond in the Gulf Coast.
Well, let me count the similarities: Natural disaster on a biblical scale...human mistakes of building in a flood plain…failure of levees…death and injury...thousands displaced…blighted lives…the need to question governmental response, perhaps because it's better this time.
And the differences, such as they are: Neighborhoods washed away down south but most structures on the plains can be repaired…an historic city vs. dispersed rural communities…a tantalizing tourist destination of the imagination as opposed to the “flyover” region of America…a sizable racial minority with poverty issues compared with rugged farm region folk who are supposed to know how to cope.
The two stories look pretty similar to me. Besides, I’m uncomfortable saying one class of disaster victim population is more worthy of coverage than another.
If you’re flooded out, does your race matter or does it matter if you are in Louisiana or Iowa? If you’re burned out, does it matter if you are in California or Florida? If you’re dying of heat, does it matter if you are in Phoenix or Chicago?
All victims crave validation of their misery. All consumers of news need to know about disruption in national life.
And the tornadoes we've been having! The repetition seems to lower media interest. News rooms even have a cynical line to cover their boredom: “Sounded just like a freight train,” they yuk.
Each new typhoon, tsunami or threat of plague in Asia brings less attention than the preceding one. Every war in Africa, the Middle East and near-Asia pops up for a little while and then quickly loses media attention.
If you want coverage of your own personal Act of God or Act of War, you’d better be in Act One. Afterward the press heads to the lobby for intermission and refreshments.
I tried in two different newsrooms to create a “Whatever happened to…” feature. It was a simple, systematic way to revisit events and situations so we could “drop the other shoe” and end the public’s suspense on some important matter we raised and then forgot. But reporters hated and fought the effort.
The natural state of a journalist is the next big story, not the last one. What a professional disaster!
Real professionalism means viewing every situation as fresh and demanding of our full attention, new all over again. Every victim has an personal story to tell, if we listen and pass it on.
Now the Bread Basket of America is losing the shock value comparison with N’awlins.
Yet the Midwest’s possible famine-producing impact on the global food chain may overshadow enormously Katrina's huge but regional impact on the Gulf.
The more recent storms blew in when a housing crisis, a credit crunch and a fuel crisis boiled up in a perfect economic storm for the nation, aggravated by seeming helplessness against such macro headwinds. Katrina hit when we had fewer obstacles to cope, if only the federal government had.
Media attention to disaster or any other “old” story is uneven at best. Oh, I’m going to hear about pictures taken, column inches published and coverage dutifully pursued. That’s it, of course – duty and not freshness.
The word “ennui” applies to much of the media – boredom to the point of annoyance at being stirred from disinterest.
Looks like disaster fatigue to me.
The recurring story, the story that won’t go away, the been-there-done-that-story – each causes a decline in journalism’s interest.
Oh, we blame it on the news consumer. We “have an obligation” to recognize the public’s short attention span.
But in the rush to oblige, we satisfy our own itch to move on and our own inability to see a story through to the end.
The flooding in the Mississippi drainage basin is not the “Katrina of the Midwest,” they tell me. So it’s "unfair" to expect the level of coverage we witnessed wonderfully in New Orleans, Biloxi and beyond in the Gulf Coast.
Well, let me count the similarities: Natural disaster on a biblical scale...human mistakes of building in a flood plain…failure of levees…death and injury...thousands displaced…blighted lives…the need to question governmental response, perhaps because it's better this time.
And the differences, such as they are: Neighborhoods washed away down south but most structures on the plains can be repaired…an historic city vs. dispersed rural communities…a tantalizing tourist destination of the imagination as opposed to the “flyover” region of America…a sizable racial minority with poverty issues compared with rugged farm region folk who are supposed to know how to cope.
The two stories look pretty similar to me. Besides, I’m uncomfortable saying one class of disaster victim population is more worthy of coverage than another.
If you’re flooded out, does your race matter or does it matter if you are in Louisiana or Iowa? If you’re burned out, does it matter if you are in California or Florida? If you’re dying of heat, does it matter if you are in Phoenix or Chicago?
All victims crave validation of their misery. All consumers of news need to know about disruption in national life.
And the tornadoes we've been having! The repetition seems to lower media interest. News rooms even have a cynical line to cover their boredom: “Sounded just like a freight train,” they yuk.
Each new typhoon, tsunami or threat of plague in Asia brings less attention than the preceding one. Every war in Africa, the Middle East and near-Asia pops up for a little while and then quickly loses media attention.
If you want coverage of your own personal Act of God or Act of War, you’d better be in Act One. Afterward the press heads to the lobby for intermission and refreshments.
I tried in two different newsrooms to create a “Whatever happened to…” feature. It was a simple, systematic way to revisit events and situations so we could “drop the other shoe” and end the public’s suspense on some important matter we raised and then forgot. But reporters hated and fought the effort.
The natural state of a journalist is the next big story, not the last one. What a professional disaster!
Real professionalism means viewing every situation as fresh and demanding of our full attention, new all over again. Every victim has an personal story to tell, if we listen and pass it on.
Now the Bread Basket of America is losing the shock value comparison with N’awlins.
Yet the Midwest’s possible famine-producing impact on the global food chain may overshadow enormously Katrina's huge but regional impact on the Gulf.
The more recent storms blew in when a housing crisis, a credit crunch and a fuel crisis boiled up in a perfect economic storm for the nation, aggravated by seeming helplessness against such macro headwinds. Katrina hit when we had fewer obstacles to cope, if only the federal government had.
Media attention to disaster or any other “old” story is uneven at best. Oh, I’m going to hear about pictures taken, column inches published and coverage dutifully pursued. That’s it, of course – duty and not freshness.
The word “ennui” applies to much of the media – boredom to the point of annoyance at being stirred from disinterest.
Looks like disaster fatigue to me.
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