Special to NEWSLINE
by Carl Hausman
Daniel V. Jones spread his scrawled banner skyward before he blew most of his head off on live TV April 30. The message, “HMOs are in it for the money!! Live free, love safe, or die,” didn’t make much more sense than his entire strange odyssey. He had already caused a massive traffic jam on a Los Angeles freeway. Later, pulled over on an interchange, he set fire to his truck, his dog, and himself, walked from the truck with his clothes smoldering, unfurled his banner, and returned to the truck to get his shotgun.
But even in his final mindless moments of dementia Jones had the uncanny presence of mind to face the message to the sky–where the TV helicopters hovered.
Jones’s suicide was carried live by seven local stations in Los Angeles and by MS-NBC, a national cable news channel. In the final seconds of the drama, two local stations stayed on a relatively tight shot that showed the shotgun blast ripping away his skull. Other stations moved to wide shots in the 11 seconds or so from the time Jones retrieved his gun to when he pulled the trigger.
In the immediate aftermath of the suicide there was a banquet of self-conscious reassessment. Anchorpeople for many of the stations in L.A. apologized on air for showing the graphic details in midafternoon. KTLA anchor Hal Fishman went on the air to say that “KTLA shares with its viewers their distress.” Several station managers and news directors promised to reevaluate their policies regarding live coverage, and MS-NBC is considering implementing a several-second delay for live shots.
Some found the apologies disingenuous. Media critic Howard Rosenberg, writing in the Los Angeles Times, put it this way: ” They’ll never admit it, perhaps not even to themselves, but Thursday was the day Los Angeles television stations finally got what they wanted. In their heart of hearts, this was it. Oh mama, was it ever. Not just another routine pursuit across freeways and a meek surrender. Not just some bumps and sideswipes. . . . This time it was the full payoff, the big public splatter. . . .”
Is there a moral to the story? There may be many, and in the sharp clarity of hindsight it is easy to condemn television stations for not cutting away from the scene after Jones grabbed his gun and his intentions became obvious. Clear, too, is the way in which L.A. stations allowed themselves to be used by a disturbed man with a demented message. It was no coincidence that Jones wrote his de facto suicide note in a medium visible to helicopters; he knew they would be there.
But one overarching lesson goes beyond the perils of video voyeurs gorging themselves on live shots. It is the problem of technology driving judgment.
“No safety nets, no editing process,” Rosenberg wrote. “Turn on the camera, and no control, just an abrogation of journalistic responsibility. Turn on the camera, and whatever happens zooms across the airwaves as wild and out of control as a scud missile.”
In other words, he wrote, television stations do it live “not because it’s necessarily worth covering, but because you have the machinery to do it.”
Such is the moral dilemma of separating the idea that “we can” from “we should.” And that’s a weighty problem when we deal with technology.
For example, in my field–journalism education–we have rushed to introduce students to new database technologies that can collate, sort, and apply information in ways that ultimately shred most veils of privacy. We talk excitedly about what we can do with this technology. We hardly talk at all about whether we should be doing what we’re doing.
The existence of the technology and the fact that there are no explicitly drawn rules against using it (not uncommon with a new technology that evolves before the rules do) seem to justify an anything-goes posture.
And the problem certainly isn’t limited to journalism. For instance:
- Industries know that technology can automate many processes and decisions, from replacing a worker at an assembly line to computer scanning a job applicant’s résumé for the appropriate key words. We can do it. But should we?
- The Internet can make available an unlimited menu of bizarre material appealing to every conceivable desire. We can do it. But should we?
- Computers and video displays can replace, at least for part of the day, person-to-person instruction in school. We can do it. But should we?
It is a mistake to view caution about the moral implications of technology as luddism. The staunchest proponents of nuclear power most certainly would wish that technicians at Chernobyl had not mixed up what they could do (defeat the safety mechanisms) with what they should do (keep the place from melting down).
The live shot–driven by the technology of minicams, microwave links, and news choppers–has become a staple of television news coverage, and that is not necessarily a bad thing. In Los Angeles, live-breaking news about a traffic tie-up is news by almost any definition of which I am aware.
But when the events mutate into voyeurism, and the technology drives coverage without a journalistic hand on the wheel, we’ve gone where we shouldn’t.
(c)1998 by the Institute for Global Ethics