The slow death of British journalism
As the world battles a devastating pandemic, some extraordinary events have transpired.
The President of the United States suggested people consider injecting disinfectant into their bodies as a cure for the coronavirus. Then the Pentagon released three videos showing US navy pilots encountering unidentifiable flying objects, causing some people to believe alien UFO’s are at close quarters. Then rumours emerged that North Korean leader Kim Jong-un was gravely ill or dead, following an alleged surgery blunder. Yet just days later he appeared at a fertiliser factory looking exceptionally buoyant.
But there has been some less surprising news too. Like the YouGov poll at the end of April which showed that only 24% of the public trust TV journalists, and 64% do not. Likewise, it exhibited that only 17% of people trust newspaper journalists, meanwhile 72% do not. Such numbers are incriminating, but hardly astonishing.
The standard of journalism has dropped significantly and ostensibly the public have been observing matters diligently.
Journalists enjoy access to the countries high profile figures, and it is their job to question and scrutinise their policies and decisions in order to provide citizens with an accurate account of matters.
As retired journalism professor, Jonathan Foster, once stipulated on the purpose of journalists: ‘If someone says it’s raining, and another person says its dry, it’s not your job to quote them both. Your job is to look out the window and find out which is true’.
ITV’s political editor Robert Peston illustrated that such tendencies are sporadic today. In mid-March, Prime Minister Boris Johnson declared that the government’s strategy for tackling the pandemic was ‘herd immunity’. The thinking was that national resistance would be built up if a sufficiently high proportion of individuals became immune to the disease.
Never mind that the success of such a procedure hinges on access to vaccinations, which were not available for at least 18 months, at the time of the policy. Never mind that herd immunity is effective for a pandemic flu, but was being used to combat a virus. Never mind that Britain was the last to take precautionary measures, so could see across the world that nobody opted for herd immunity, and take heed. Never mind that a plethora of professors and scientists expressed bafflement and concern on numerous occasions about the potency and efficacy of such a strategy.
To Peston, none of the aforementioned mattered. He immediately wrote a column in the Spectator titled ‘Herd immunity will be vital to stopping coronavirus’. On that occasion, the government instructed him that it was raining. He proceeded to look out the window, saw the scorching sun like a glowing medallion in the sky, but still reported tar-black skies, insipid clouds and an unrelenting downpour.
It is unnerving that Peston, a renowned journalist who has worked at established media organisations, and possesses extensive reporting experience, is doing the governments advocacy. What is perhaps more disconcerting is that such endeavours illuminate the emerging patterns of the industry.
The Daily Express embodied this from the outset of the pandemic, as they epitomised duplicity when they ran a story showing Britons taking to the street in droves to clap for Boris Johnson to allegedly celebrate him risking his life to run the country. However, the image they used was from a congested street, one week earlier, in one of the first nationwide claps for the NHS. The image was later modified following outrage on Twitter, but the intentions were unmistakable.
In truth, such enterprises from the press have become commonplace. Five years ago, on the 6th of May 2015, the Sun did what they do best. Write unscrupulous and underhanded headlines. On that occasion, one day before the general election, Ed Miliband was on the receiving end. ‘This is the pig’s ear Ed made of a helpless sarnie. In 48 hours, he could be doing the same to Britain’, their front page read, displaying a photo of the then Labour leader eating a bacon sandwich. ‘Don’t swallow his porkies and keep him out’, the sub headline warned.
Fast forward to the 6th of May 2020, and that degree of disingenuity from the press has feasibly intensified. The previous day, the UK’s death toll from the virus surpassed Italy’s and became the highest in Europe. That is a damning indictment and illustrates just how callous the government’s handling of the crisis has been.
But for the majority of the newspapers, particularly the right wing ones, no such headlines were palpable. All the focus was instead on Professor Neil Ferguson, who quit as a government adviser after it emerged he was flouting the lockdown rules by receiving visits from his lover. As insincere as the matter was, a bona fide free press should not have prioritised that over holding the government accountable for the harrowing state of affairs Britain finds itself in. And it is unquestionably not in the public interest for the press to forensically scrutinise a professor’s private life whilst the country’s deaths remain stubbornly high.
Indeed, a noteworthy story that day in the Telegraph was the Chief Scientific Adviser admitting the UK was too slow to test. Yet that headline was placed in an insignificant segment at the bottom of the page, whereas the story on Ferguson dominated the front.
The ‘dead cat’ phrase comes to mind. Introducing a dramatic, shocking or sensational topic in order to draw the discussion away from failures or problems elsewhere. One would expect such practices from the ruling party in a bid to further their political interests and insulate themselves. But large sections of the media are doing the legwork now. It is becoming the norm for journalists and media outlets to unapologetically protect the government, even by virtue of mendacious methods.
And their consistency is frightening.
Throughout the Covid-19 human tragedy, several newspapers have wasted no time aggrandizing mundane headlines whilst systematically deemphasising the worrisome topics. Perhaps the most striking example was on April 20th, when the Sun unashamedly ran a full-page sized photo of a pint, with the headline screaming ‘PUBS SHUT TILL CHRISTMAS’. But below on a tiny graphic of a coronavirus protein, it said ‘496 dead — see page 4’. Disgracefully, the editors of the Sun relegated the disheartening death toll to a mere footnote, presumably to stifle sentiments of indignation towards the government that such deplorable numbers can prompt.
Unsurprisingly, the Sun is a repeat offender. Over the last 24 hours the death toll reached more than 30,000 in the UK. Yet ‘HAPPY MONDAY’ is what their front page trumpeted, in light of news that the government has drafted a blueprint for easing the lockdown. The Daily Mail, eager to share the spotlight with the Sun, published an equally contemptible front page. ‘HURRAH! LOCKDOWN FREEDOM BECKONS’ their main headline read.
So, when did Westminster and Fleet Street form such a formidable partnership? The political and the media apparatuses are supposed to be in place to prevent each other from generating a monopoly. They are supposed to be the central pillars that sustain democracy.
What separates them should be a steely partition. Instead there is a revolving door constantly in use. LBC radio presenter Iain Dale unknowingly encapsulated the plight in consecutive tweets on the 24th of April. As the poll showing the public’s disapproval for the media surfaced, he was quick to express concern. ‘Every journalist/columnist in the broadcast and print media needs to look themselves in the mirror (including me)’. But his last tweet before that self-reflection was congratulating Boris Johnson’s sister, Rachel Johnson, for her new role as LBC presenter. And therein lies part of the problem.
Indeed, just days later former ITV News national editor Allegra Stratton, was appointed director of strategic communications to the chancellor Rishi Sunak. Rachel Johnson and Allegra Stratton went down a well-trodden path, such is the fluid relationship between politics and the media now.
Therefore, it is nothing more than lip service when on World Press Freedom Day, the foreign minister Dominic Raab underscores the need for a strong and independent media. That ship sailed from Britain a long time ago.
Indisputably though, the various media branches here are strong. How else would they be carrying the government on their backs effortlessly? But independent? Don’t be silly.
