Dean Whitbread 2020
Contact Details
Yesterday, according to Channel 4 News, after a phone call from Downing Street, the Raoul Moat Facebook fan page was taken down. We’re told Facebook didn’t remove it, but that it was done by the people who started to focus on sympathy for the gunman. Questions were raised in Parliament.
It’s interesting that days after the tragic dénouement, some feel shocked that there can be any empathy for this crazed fugitive. But, why should our reactions be proscribed? Isn’t it natural to have some feeling for the poor wretch, who it turns out, asked for psychiatric help months before he died?
What of our other “inappropriate” responses, such as the many jokes and archly bleak comments which flew around while he was still on the run?
I’ve been thinking a lot about our responses, and in particular, the kind of gallows humour which surrounds these news media-generated public dramas.
Did everyone catch the Raoul Moat Twitter parody account? It’s now deleted but still in Google’s cache:
http://www.google.co.uk/search?q=twitter.com%2FRaoul_Moat1
It’s sick, but we laugh. I tweeted:
http://twitter.com/deekdeekster/status/18153533797
So soon after the Derrick Bird massacre our glorious news media was saturated with the unfolding tragedy of Raoul Moat, and having some days to get into position gave rise to a massive circus built around the death of one person, the shooting of two, and the suicide of the perpetrator.
The modern news media are as much a part of the death response in our culture as we are. In the past, many chose to attend the public hangings of evil doers. It was a public gathering, a social event. From serfdom to republic, for thousands of years, there has been a trade around the prurient drama of public death.
The news media doesn’t regulate its demand on our attention. They want to justify their wages, they want bums on seats. There are ways to avoid the draining anxiety generated by following life and death news dramas. The best solution I’ve found is simply to avoid rolling news. But it’s difficult, practically impossible – you have to avoid public spaces, bars, shops. It’s everywhere.
What I find problematic are not the gallows cracks which serve as some defense to our common humanity, and not even the perhaps misguided, or perhaps enlightened sympathy for the cornered madman, but that my environment becomes saturated with these fleeting tragedies. It’s becoming progressively more difficult to avoid this kind of news, indeed, this kind of news coverage is expected by everyone. Like a public hanging, it is entertainment. It doesn’t help justice, and it doesn’t help my peace of mind. The presence of cameras and reporters amplifies the drama, and often negatively affects the chances of there being a peaceful resolution.
As far as the reporting goes, a madman on the loose and a massive manhunt has to be worth covering. But what does “cover” actually mean in this context? What is the cover doing that benefits anyone aside from the news vendors? Do we really need this kind of news?
So, do not decry the outbreaks of “poor taste”. These are natural human reactions. When these appalling breakdowns burst into the public arena, no matter the tragedy, many joke exactly like people have done in the past when attending public executions, with bleak humour, making dark and frequently tasteless jests in the face of of uncontrollable pain, chaos, and mystifying evil.