I have commented before about how effective, but potentially
deceptive, news-by-anecdote is. NPR is a
particularly egregious offender in this.
If the story is about sweatshops in Thailand, there will be a
(translated) interview with Sanan Pamsoonthorn, an actual swetashop worker,
about how hard her life is and the lack of laws or enforecement of safety
standards at her factory. Missing will be an interview with Rahmat Bowo or
anyone else in Indonesia who says “You have work for a new sweatshop? I would love to have that work.” I am not
making any statement what our response should be to working conditions with our
trading partners, BTW. I simply note that
NPR’s is rather predictable, as is any news source that uses this tactic.
Once you have decided to “try to put a human face” on a news
story, you have already made up your mind what the answer is, and what you are
hoping your audience will “understand,” which is newsspeak for “be manipulated
into believing.” Because we are affected. We want to be affected. We want to be bonded to the rest of humanity
and to make the decision that makes us feel like we are being decent and
honorable. We want the sad kitties
and puppies. We want to be let off
from the hard work of deciding what actually is good and wise and moral. If
someone can give us little girls with big eyes, we can breathe a sigh of relief
because our decision has been made: “Mr. Senator, I want the solution that
makes that particular little girl not look so sad anymore. No, don’t bother me
with numbers and laws. I want the little
girl not to be sad. She is now the face
of this issue for me.”
So advocates, and charities, and politicians, and
journalists use this. Because it
works. And to be fair, some of them do
it because they know a hundred little girls like this, or a thousand, and it
hurts, and they want some help from the government or from the public to lessen
the pain. Wouldn’t you? I’ve got a
Christmas card with a picture of eight little Romanian girls in the orphanage
my third and fourth sons are from, hanging on my window at work. They are just cute, and maybe, maybe, some
passer-by might get interested enough to help to. I do exactly the same thing I am railing
about. I am attempting to manipulate
people to help.
Well, okay, except I’m not trying to pass laws to force you
to take care of them. That is some
different. But I wanted to stress that however much I might rail against the
manipulations, they work on me, and I can use them as well. You might take the natural extension I am
hinting at here and recognise that however much you might complain about those
others swayed by emotions, you do it too.
Different stories push your buttons.
If there were a national lottery, where people at random
were selected every year to win $100,000/year for life, we would want to get
rid of that, right? That would be a
terrible use of government money, wouldn’t it?
But if we tried, the journalists, and politicians, and advocates could
locate human interest stories of people who would be harmed by losing that
lottery money. They could locate those
stories within hours. And they would
be absolutely true. Those would be
real single mothers of children who needed expensive school interventions;
those would be real older guys who had lost their jobs for reasons that weren’t
especially their fault who couldn’t find and weren’t likely to find new work;
those would be real young people who had come up from bad neighborhoods and
trauma but were getting good grades at college and would have crushing debt.
Their stories would be heartbreakingly sad; sad enough that it would start to
be persuasive to us that maybe we should keep that National Lottery program
in place after all…It would do no good to point out that many people spent
it frivolously, or that other single moms were paying taxes to support this, or
any of the hundred other reasons why the program makes no sense. We want the little girl to stop looking sad,
Jack. Shut up and turn “Mad Men” back
on, okay?
We no longer live in bands of 150 hunter-gatherers, but we
still respond that way. It is how we are
made. We are not really built to be
rational. Our arts, far more a product
of our social and emotive sides than our intellectual, quite joyfully teach us
to hate the “faceless bureaucrat” – the last line of defense of someone who
might, possibly, do what is good for the greatest number rather than the
kitties and puppies – and root for the girl in the wheelchair who has always
wanted to be an astronaut. That’s why it
works to have “Tex Richman” in the Muppet Movie, vilified as a person who loves
only money and power. He’s a stock
character. This goes back
centuries. There’s no use complaining
about it because we are wired that way; the movies don’t teach us to have that
value, we teach the movies to have that value, or we won’t pay money to watch
them. We want the little boy to follow
his dream and become a hoops star – who cares if we destroyed the lives of a
hundred thousand other kids who followed their dream and not their homework and
can’t make it? Screw ‘em. They’re not in
the story.
They’re not in the story.
That’s the key. That is where the
value of the Deconstructionists is quite real, and conservatives had better
learn to stop reflexively kicking everything that has a postmodern whiff to
it. When you run across one of those
human interest stories, you have to ask yourself Whose story is not being
told here? Why is this story “privileged” over others? Look at what is
being left out as much as what is being put in.
There was a revealing line in the Screwtape Letters, where the
senior demon tells his nephew the apprentice tempter, that they do much more
work keeping certain thoughts out of people’s heads than putting them in.
Related note, because Bethany’s new blog has put me in mind
of misleading statistics. They say you
can lie with statistics, and that is true.
But statistics can be forced to tell the truth if you grab them by the
shirt and shove them up against the wall and say “Tell me who your friends and
associates are! Where are you from, and
whose bags are you carrying onto the plane?”
Because even if they won’t answer, your asking of the question
immediately reveals to you much of the missing data.
4 comments:
Superb post.
My wife, daughter and I are currently watching and reading Pride and Prejudice. My wife and I were discussing a passage last night in which Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet are debating how to make decisions. Mr Darcy insists upon the cold, rational approach; he is Sense, of course. Elizabeth counters that there must be some point at which a decision is sufficiently inconsequential so as to allow Sensibility to overrule cold reason.
It is fascinating seeing this evidence of Western society right on that cusp between 18th-century rationalism and 19th-century romanticism.
Today, of course, Sensibility has at its command so many and such powerful tools: gauzy photographs, cleverly-edited video clips, swelling background music . . . . it is very hard indeed to make that case for sense, isn't it?
Every show is Queen For A Day. The most tear-jerking hard-luck story always won.
Someone, somewhere, will always be sad, or hurting, or lonely at some point. But life never stays on one fixed point. A millionaire can lose it all. A poor kid can grow to become a CEO.
As a mother of two teens, I am seeing firsthand how making decisions solely with your emotions doesn't really work out very well.
I agree with you, except that I've been surprised how fair NPR sometimes is about throwing in an interview with the Other Guy. It's at the end, and it remains clear what the reporter wants you to think, but they're not quite ruthless about demonizing the Other Guy when they give him the mike. They ask him reasonable questions and include clips of him giving reasonable answers about the other side of the story. (Ah, if only they could listen to the answers, too.)
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