How we became terrorized by the 24-hour news cycle and what we might do to combat the charade of exigency
Prior to the advent of 24-hour cable news networks, social media, or the internet of any kind, we relied on newspapers and the nightly news, televised on one of three networks, to inform us about what was going on in the world. There was a certain amount of distance between what was happening in the world, and our own personal lives.
The events of the day might have had a relevant impact on our lives, but it wasn’t so eminent or fraught with such immediate danger. Is the world truly a more terrifying place than it used to be, or is it possible that we have simply allowed multinational media conglomerates to monetize our anxiety for profit?
One of the main problems I have with television news, outside of the obvious heightening of tension and drama, is the fact that they don’t actually have enough news to fill their day. They take a news story that would take about three paragraphs in a decent newspaper, and they expand that out to 20 minutes plus commercials. They add in fancy graphics and animation, talking heads and paid experts, and then they discuss the three paragraphs of news. Everything is treated like a cliffhanger.
It’s the FOMO of news gathering. Fear of missing out. We even have people who call themselves news junkies. They’re terrified they’ll miss out on the dopamine fix of hearing breaking news first and being able to disseminate that to their friends on social media.
It’s not healthy.
Bad News Travels Fast
They say that bad news travels fast. This concept first appeared in print in the 16th century. “Euill news neuer commeth to late.” Since then, the speed at which news travels has only gotten progressively faster. Despite this apparent progress, there is very little evidence that having information delivered quickly has been of any cultural benefit for most of us, outside of maybe military strategists and corporate raiders.
I first became aware of the effect it was having on me when I left Twitter and started using a platform known as Mastodon. This was in the middle of what would later be called the Great Twitter Migration of 2022, and was predicated by an egocentric billionaire buying up a social media juggernaut and then inadvertently depopulating it. All in all, not your typical set of events. But almost without warning, I found myself in a brave new world.
Suddenly, I wasn’t constantly assaulted with BREAKING NEWS. I went and found my news, read it at my leisure, thought about it, wrote about it, and then came back and posted about it. After which, maybe I discussed it with others. It was a much longer process.
One day I realized how much I resented the added stress of thinking I needed news to be timely. I didn’t need most of this information, and I certainly didn’t need it quickly. Neither did anyone else. It was all manufactured hype designed to make us hyper-vigilant, anxious, and afraid of missing out on the hot topic of the day.
I have since come to grips with the reality that my reports on the comings and goings of the humans on this planet are nothing that anyone needs in any sort of timely manner, no matter important I think they may be. Neither do I have to worry that someone is going to scoop me on the things I write about. It has been suggested that more of us should embrace a new approach to reading more long-form journalism and less reactionary hot takes that are designed to excite and enrage.
From Ripe To Rotten In A Blink
Most of what we think of as news is salacious hype designed to titillate, anger, excite or otherwise vex us into believing that the information being provided is not only relevant, but critical to our personal safety and professional success.
But how often is that really true?
The vast majority of what we call news is only relevant to a small number of people, and almost none of it is timely. We treat the news like it’s an avocado that just became ripe, and now you have thirty minutes before it becomes inedible. There was a time that yesterday’s news was only good for wrapping fish or house-breaking puppies. Why? Because the news today took precedence, and we only had so much bandwidth in our brains and time in our day. Now it’s digital and infinite. The news has no beginning or end. It just is.
Data Is Not News
There is a mode of thinking that believes that the most honest, neutral, fair, and balanced news is that which simply reports the facts. No editorial. No opinion. Just who, what, where, when, and how. This is a pretty common ideal and shared by many.
It sounds great, of course, except for the fact that without context, most of us aren’t in a position to evaluate the information. It’s like looking at raw data. The fact that there is no such thing as objective journalism further muddies the water. What I report is what I see and hear, and what I see and hear is largely informed by my personal experiences, cultural history, biases, and prejudices.
The problem is not that we have too much context, but not enough. The simple facts almost never tell the whole story. What happened after? What led up to the incident? What caused it? Who did it affect?
We’ve been trained (poorly) to accept headlines and sound bites as news, as if the sensational tone is all you need to extrapolate out the entire gist of the story. If the New York Times said it, then it must be true. Or maybe it’s Fox News for you. Take an inflammatory headline, add a trusted source, and you have a verifiable set of facts without ever having to read, or understand, what really happened.
But what if we changed our ideas about what was important to know in our world — that hot takes had about as much value as a fart in the wind? What if we valued accuracy and thoroughness over anxiety-ridden timeliness? Would we be more or less informed? I propose that we would all be better off in the same way that eating whole organic foods is better for you than eating heavily processed fast foods.
We need a new movement that can reshape our ideas about what we find important and what we allow to control our time and attention. We need to reject corporate media’s demand that we give them our attention so freely. We need the opposite of breaking news. We need to slow things down, not speed them up
The Slow News Movement
The so-called “slow movement” began as a protest against the opening of a McDonald’s restaurant in Piazza di Spagna, Rome in 1986. Initially conceived as a thoughtful alternative to fast food, the Slow Food Movement aspired to promote traditional and regional cuisine, by also encouraging organic farming of heirloom varieties of plants and livestock, and the support of small purveyors and sustainable foods. It focused on quality over quantity. Taste over speed. Regional idiosyncrasies over mass consumerism.¹
Over time, the slow movement expanded to include a variety of activities and cultural movements, from parenting and education, to travel and fashion. The central gist of each movement is the theory that we need to slow down and be more engaged and purposeful with what we’re doing.²
So why not think about that with our input on current events?
Peter Laufer, an independent journalist, broadcaster, and documentary filmmaker, is the James Wallace Chair in Journalism at the University of Oregon School of Journalism and Communication. He has written extensively on the subject.
“We must eat in order to survive,” writes Laufer. “Accurate information can be another requirement for our survival. Yet our quest for instant information has made it more difficult to find the truth and see the larger picture behind breaking events.”³
“We need to ask ourselves what news is important and why,” continues Laufer. “Quasi-hysterical news presentations — especially from broadcast and Internet-based outlets — can lead us to believe that the information being foisted on us is critical to know right now (and to hear and see repeatedly), even though it may warrant only a few lines in the back pages of tomorrow’s newspaper.”⁴
So much of what is being “foisted on us,” to use Laufer’s term, is little more than gossip presented as critical news. Many of our news outlets have become cheap supermarket tabloids, hawking the latest bit of dirt and tawdry rumors on celebrities, politicians, and world events. If it bleeds, it leads. Even if you find this entertaining, there is no reason you need this information quickly.
We have allowed ourselves to be programmed to become part of the distribution mill of salacious news, quickly posting and boosting, as quickly as possible, so that we can feel superior for knowing it before the next guy. It’s not just news outlets trying to out-scoop one another. It’s each of us trying to scoop our family, neighbors, and friends.
Did you hear?
Stop Feeding The Beast
The only way to combat this madness is to stop feeding the beast. Stop rewarding corporate media with our time and attention until they stop trying to force their saturated fat, salt, and corn syrup on our damaged palates. We need more whole foods, such as books and journals, and less junk in the form of celebrity clickbait and political imbroglio.
Resist the temptation to sensationalize the news, spread hot takes, and share gossip. Sit with things for a bit. Do a bit more research. Make a conscious effort to determine if this is actual news that could help someone or just glorified violence on our psyches. It won’t happen all at once, but if we each made a small effort, we might be able to eventually shift the direction of the ship in a better direction.
Think about what you read. Be skeptical of your rationale for sharing gossip. Slow down. It can all wait.