When the media becomes the news

These days it is never just "Good morning!" My nearest and dearest, who are usually up before me, mainly, I like to think, because of the one-hour time difference, have usually also managed to absorb enough of the news in time to greet me with the growl: "I expect you've seen The Times this morning". At which point my heart sinks.

On Tuesday, it was the double whammy of an asylum seeker who was run over by a person or persons unknown and the arrest of two men over the alleged rape of two girls in Paceville. On Monday it was the story of another asylum seeker wanted for questioning in connection with the burning of a soldier's car and an implied drug overdose death.

On Sunday it was the story that arsonists had made Daphne Caruana Galizia their latest victim although the image of Daphne as a victim does not quite square up; she has taken on more powerful people than these petty squabblers in her time. Earlier last week of course there was the same arson story set at the house of Saviour Balzan, another journalist with a reputation for fearlessness. (Have these arsonists read Daphne's column or MaltaToday editorials? They can hardly be said to be written by people who are easily scared.)

On Saturday it was the arraignment of an asylum seeker charged with assaulting a soldier and the death of a young father in a motorcycle accident. I could go on but I think I have made my point. These days I try to put off all conversation until after I have scanned a paper or two because the chances are that my first conversation of the day will centre around the news back home. It pays to be prepared.

The tricky part is that I find myself constantly tackled on the choices made by the media and questioned about decisions taken by editors just as if I could be held personally responsible. Enter the stereotype of the muck-raking hack: "you journalists are all the same".

Some of the questions asked of this week's stories were:

Does the fact that two journalists were victims of arson make the story more newsworthy than the other arsons which have been dotting the landscape in the past few months?

Should a picture of a traffic accident showing a covered corpse in the foreground have made publication?

Was it relevant to point out the nationality of the two men charged with rape earlier this week?

Why was the hit and run of the asylum seeker branded a racist attack?

Are the media going soft on asylum seekers?

And many more.

These are all questions which deserve to be answered. Gathering news has become a sophisticated enterprise and readers are more prepared to entertain media conspiracy theories. When there is a danger of the media becoming the news, then measures have to be taken to engage with readers and help them understand the workings of good journalism.

The one topic which intrigued me most this week was a debate I had with a former colleague and a friend over the merits of publishing a picture which showed the covered corpse of a 41-year-old motorcyclist in the foreground of the scene of a traffic accident. My friend was moved to remark that it was "disgusting" that the paper would stoop so low as to show the picture of a dead body. She made four claims:

¤ that the picture was unnecessary to the story;

¤ the photographer should never have taken the picture in the first place;

¤ the editor should never have used it and if the paper had wanted to use that particular picture from that particular angle for a number of reasons - for example, to show which side of the road the vehicles were - the corpse could have been edited out.

To be honest, I could not immediately see why the picture was an issue. But I felt that, whatever my personal take on the matter, a reader always deserves an explanation. In answer to the claims made by my friend, I said I thought that the first three were a matter of editorial decision and readers were generally split over whether to accept an editor's decision to show the unpalatable or to denounce it. Which means there is no right or wrong way of looking at it. The fourth claim was simply unacceptable; picture retouching is considered unethical for reasons which are too varied and complex for me to go into here.

What I find interesting is how all these questions highlight the erosion of the relationship of trust between journalist and reader. No concession was made to the fact that the person in the editor's chair was probably the person best qualified to take such a decision.

Reporting suffering is fraught with difficulties and reporting tragedy is necessarily intrusive. But, as a former lecturer of mine once said, "the priority must be to inform; you cannot create a make-believe world in which people do not cry". The lecturer was Richard Tait, who had been editor-in-chief of ITN at the time of the Dunblane massacre, the event which prompted him to make this statement.

By extension, you cannot make a make-believe world in which people do not die in tragic circumstances. And the reporting of a death necessitates the depiction of a body. "Invading privacy for the public good expresses the truth that justice sometimes requires a private good to be subordinated to a public one," writes Karen Sanders in her book Ethics And Journalism. It would be interesting to find out whether my friend would have felt so strongly about the picture if it were in the foreign news pages. National tragedies resonate. Foreign tragedies less so.

To me, this short discussion highlighted two things: the first is the need for a media Ombudsman, the second is the need for compulsory media lessons in secondary schools.

The media should strive to listen to the community it operates in, be more open about its workings and explain its decisions. I find that an explanation goes a long way in helping people understand how journalists operate and within what constraints. They may not like my explanation, they may still disagree with me but they are satisfied that I have done my best to take the right decision in the circumstances. Good journalism thrives on a relationship of mutual trust and respect between the journalist and the reader. The lines of communication have to be opened and should run both ways. Media outlets should seriously consider appointing an Ombudsman to tackle questions, complaints and suggestions from readers in an appropriate manner.

My second point is hardly original: it is useless holding forth about freedom of expression if people do not really know how that freedom guarantees their way of life. It never fails to surprise me how little people know of the way the media operates and the pressures and the demands made of the working journalist. But the bottom line is, when the media becomes the news, it is time to listen and take stock.

Ms Spiteri is a journalist and a researcher in media and identity based at the University of Sussex.

S.Spiteri@sussex.ac.uk