It was around 12:00 p.m., and I had just returned from my morning classes. As I settled into my desk chair to check on next semester's courses, I turned on the TV behind me to CNN. "Breaking News," beamed a foreign voice from over my shoulder.
The headline had its desired effect; I turned to the TV, expecting something worthy of stealing my attention away from next year's course offerings. The reporter explained that an unidentified man carrying two briefcases had been seen walking to the steps of the Capitol, where he stopped and stood, seemingly glued in place. Minutes later, the man's suspicious activity was noticed by police, and he was tackled from behind by members of a SWAT team. I was then treated to a video of the event, a scene which featured two SWAT officers removing the man from the Capitol. What struck me the most was how the man was treated; he was dragged face down, legs sagging, knees scraping, at an astonishingly quick pace.
"That must've hurt," commented my roommate.
"Well, that will teach him to never stop moving when near the nation's Capitol," I remarked.
For some reason unbeknownst to me, I continued to watch CNN. The next segment of "Breaking News" concerned a hostage situation in my home state of New Jersey. A 28-year-old man had abducted his girlfriend and their infant daughter and was surrounded by police outside a housing development some 50 miles west of Newark. By the time the network had switched to their on-site reporter, my interest had waned beyond repair, and I quickly turned off the TV.
What happened to CNN, I wondered. Has it always been filled with unimportant, superficial stories? Back in high school, I used to occasionally watch CNN, fitting it in between reruns of "The Simpsons" and "Sports center." CNN, along with my daily dose of NBC Nightly News at the dinner table, was my main source of news. In those days, the network had educational value; informing its viewers about various political or economic issues facing the country, along with the occasional filler that accompanies any 24/7 news channel.
Nowadays, despite important battles over everything from Social Security to the war in Iraq, the news is clustered with reports of kidnappings, potential terrorists and various other stories that scare the American public. The other leads that dominate news networks are inevitably "human interest" pieces about celebrities and their troubles with the law (see Martha Stewart and Michael Jackson).
Parents often complain about violence in TV shows and movies aired by the various channels. However, kids don't need to watch an episode of "24" to get their daily intake of blood and shootouts. All they have to do is watch some CNN, where they'll find an ample supply of real-life violence, which, I believe, has a far greater impact than any tale of fiction ever could.
In college, I've turned to online and printed media as my main sources of news, the former often providing more revealing coverage than the latter. This is partly a result of schedule constraints; I just don't have the time to watch NBC Nightly News every evening like I used to. However, it is also a reflection of my general disillusionment with the mainstream media.
I understand that news is a business. Networks have to report the stories that sell, and violence sells like no other. Yet the news profession also carries with it certain responsibilities. Mainstream media is often referred to as the fourth branch of government, a description that demonstrates the importance of news in the public sphere. It is crucial for the media to live up to this label, to resume its place as a consistent source of news and commentary, and to be revive the public's confidence in this once honorable profession.
James Gerber is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached via e-mail at james.gerber@tufts.edu.
