I do not own a television set. And I gave up on prime time news shows a long time ago. But the last few days awakened me to the pandemonium that passes off as news nowadays. News channels ran lengthy segments around the tragic death of actor Sushant Singh Rajput, subjected his former partner and main accused Rhea Chakraborty to a witch hunt, conducted virtual “forensic examinations” of the deceased actor’s flat and even aired images of Rajput’s lifeless body. And all this happened at a time when India recorded over 75,000 cases of coronavirus for the third consecutive day.
If a future historian looks back at prime time segments for reference, she would find it difficult to believe that we lived through a pandemic in 2020. It almost seems like the complete absence of any real discussions around India’s rising infection load is not just a bizarre coincidence, but a calculated attempt to misdirect the public and serve the interests of advertisers, political parties and business entities.
At a time when it’s critical to speak truth to power, what explains the complete disregard for journalism guided by public interest? The answer lies in the business of most major media conglomerates. Well known television anchors have, on several occasions, said that the main objective of a media house, just like any other business, is to be profitable. But when profits come in the way of discharging duties, it’s time to take a hard look. It also pushes us to ask some uncomfortable questions, like why is the public so easily misguided?
Several researches show that the way we consume media has changed. Digital platforms have become an important tool in disseminating information, and news channels, too, have moved online, infiltrating our social media timelines, moulding our psyches and setting the agenda for public discourse. People are exposed to trivial conversations, presented in a way that makes it difficult for them to sieve propaganda from the truth. This distraction tactic works because prime time shows seem to capture and exploit basal human instincts like anger, insecurity and paranoia and aim to rile their viewers.
The lack of regulations when it comes to television news further ensures that there is no accountability even if channels broadcast problematic content. There are no formal guidelines that dictate what can and cannot be aired as news. A code of conduct by self-regulatory body called the National Broadcasters Association exists, but its implementation is negligible, and that has never been more evident than in the case of Rajput’s suicide.
The audio-visual medium employed by news channels can be an important tool in swaying public opinion. But news channels have always focused on events, and ignored systemic processes that lead to those events. High suicide rates, for example, can lead to serious conversations about lack of infrastructure to deal with mental health issues. There are very few trained psychologists and psychiatrists in India, and news channels could have questioned the stigma attached to seeing professional help. But they, instead, chose to make a spectacle of a tragedy.
Fixating on one issue night after night leaves hundred others unaddressed. The time that television media spent dissecting Rajput’s last videos and photos, could have instead been dedicated to issues like the continuous restrictions on internet in Kashmir, lack of public healthcare system, the faltering state of the economy, loss of jobs and the massive rate of unemployment that have come to haunt the country in the wake of the coronavirus. But barring a few news channels, prime time shows failed to raise any question regarding these issues. And journalism became the biggest casualty in the process.
Is it too late, therefore, for television to redeem itself? It, sadly, appears so. Change will come only when the public seeks answers. Demanding free and independent journalism may seem like a radical act. But it’s not unheard of. Earlier this month, thousands of people gathered in the streets of Hungary to protest against press censorship. The protestors marched towards Prime Minister Viktor Orban’s office after the chief editor of the country’s largest independent media house was sacked. It was a powerful image, meant to convey that people will not bow down to Orban’s “nationalist” government, which stifles critical voices.
The case in India is similar. Press freedom in the country has been on a steady decline for the last five years. In 2020, India slipped two places in the Global Press Freedom Index, compiled by Reporters without Borders, and stood at the 142nd place in a list of 180 countries. There has also been an alarming rise in the number of journalists who are killed.
At this moment, our role as an aware public becomes essential. We need to support independent media, ask questions from authority and push news channels to do better. Small steps can be a rallying point for change. We can start small, by reclaiming digital spaces, amplifying marginalised voices, sharing their perspectives, and ensuring that critical conversations don’t meet a dead end.
Reverberations 