Desensitized: Violence in the Media

I was three years old on the morning of September 11, 2001. I have no memory of that day, a day the nation remembers as the most violent attack on the United States in its modern history. My parents told me of their experiences on that day and the weeks of shock and depression they underwent following the attacks, just like so many other Americans. This concept of being absolutely shaken to one’s core from a violent episode in the news seems absolutely alien to me. Perhaps this stems from the unique nature of the 9/11 attacks. Such a deadly, deliberate attack on the American people and their ideals has never again occurred in my lifetime. There have been several tragedies in recent memory with casualties numbering in the thousands (the May 2013 Iraq attacks, the 2007 Yazidi bombings), which points to the idea that 9/11 had such an exceptional impact on Americans because they were the target. Why should national boundaries impact the value we give to a human life, and the time we spending mourning its loss?

Desensitization to violence in the news is a common trend in the world of push notifications and around-the-clock news, but this spectrum of feeling towards a tragedy proves especially troubling. Part of this lies in human nature; one will naturally feel more of a connection to an act of violence in their hometown than one halfway across the world. Yet questions of morality arise in the realm of the press with regard to prioritizing certain tragedies over others.

The public needs a consistent and reliable source of information, and logistically speaking, information must be compared and prioritized in terms of relevance. If two tragic acts of violence occur on the same day, and one has more casualties than the other, more press time will be spent on that tragedy. Mathematically it makes sense. Morally it is troubling. The choices made regarding coverage force the press to be cold and calculating when addressing tragedies. But beyond the numbers, these choices reflect the Western-centric nature of American politics and general focus.

[pullquote]The choices made regarding coverage force the press to be cold and calculating when addressing tragedies. But beyond the numbers, these choices reflect the Western-centric nature of American politics and general focus.[/pullquote]

An excellent case study for this phenomenon lies in the presentation of news on November 13, 2015. If you think back to violent attacks in November of 2015, or recent acts of global terrorism in general, many minds jump to the series of attacks on Paris, for which ISIS claimed responsibility. Fewer may consider the suicide bombings in Beirut, Lebanon which occurred on the same exact day. While both resulted in immense casualties (137 and 43, respectively), these violent attacks received very different types of coverage in Western news sources, in type, degree, and depth. An article in The Atlantic posted two days after these attacks analyzed this disparity in coverage, pointing out that while the news reports surrounding the Paris calamity had the benefit of to-the-minute updates as the violence unfolded, the situation in Beirut was essentially just another headline. Journalists poured out a plethora of articles with first or second-hand accounts of the experiences of survivors and victims, highlighting the emotion and human suffering behind the tragedy. As for the language surrounding Beirut, a reader could easily shrug it off as another unfortunate act of violence in the vague conflict of Middle Eastern politics.

[pullquote]As for the language surrounding Beirut, a reader could easily shrug it off as another unfortunate act of violence in the vague conflict of Middle Eastern politics.[/pullquote]

Take the main headlines alone from the November 12 and November 13 issues of the New York Times. One November 13, they ran a huge banner headline announcing “Paris Attacks Kill More Than 100, Police Say; Border Controls Tightened,” with a powerful picture of distraught French paramedics rushing to rescue. The day before, the story covering the Beirut bombings ran on page A6, with the headline reading “ISIS Claims Responsibility for Blasts That Killed Dozens in Beirut.” Right out of the gate, journalists put the violence in a political context, rather than holding off on politicization like they did for Paris.

[pullquote]I start to wonder if the violent state of the world, and its constant coverage, has made me a less empathetic person.[/pullquote]

So what are the implications of such patterns in coverage, and what do they mean for desensitization? Do we, as Americans, simply care more about people that look like us? Is there an implicit bias toward white lives, or is it just a matter of familiarity? When a violent
episode occurs in a first world country, or when violence takes place domestically, the threat becomes much more tangible. Regardless of the cause, only letting these “familiar” tragedies affect one’s psyche skews the perception of human value. And furthermore, turning off our emotion to any of this violence presents problems in itself. Some will argue that if we let each and every violent attack in the news affect us fully, then we would not be able to function. However, I think channeling the emotions we feel–anger, frustration, sadness, fear–are key to inciting change. Politics is emotional, and shutting yourself off emotionally impedes progressive thought.

Max Lichtenstein ’20 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. He can be reached at max.lichtenstein@wustl.edu.