Yesterday, a journalist and a camera operator for the US news network WDBJ7 were killed in the course of their work by a gunman, with some of the attack captured live on air.
But the TV cameras weren't the only ones that were rolling. The gunman—a former employee of the network who subsequently killed himself—also filmed the attack. He posted the footage to Twitter, where it could be viewed by anyone following the story, including some who saw it unintentionally thanks to the social networking site's "auto-play" feature.
The debate—to watch or not to watch the footage—is similar to that held each time film of an atrocity by the Islamic State (IS) is released by the terrorist group. By watching records of horrific acts, do we in some way collude with their perpetrators? Or does doing so help us to understand such actions better, prevent them in future, and to sympathise with their victims?
In a context where these atrocities are being publicised by the perpetrator, they’re doing so for a reason and we shouldn’t watch them. There are other atrocities which are different because they’re hidden and need publicising, like the deaths of refugees and migrants on the roads and seaways around Europe. But if terrorists or lone, crazed narcissists are filming their own actions you have to question why you are colluding with them in watching. There’s a great difference between hiding a horrible truth and someone using it as a vehicle for a political or personal agenda. On a personal level, there’s nothing much to be gained from the videos. They are pornographic and they don’t lead to action. They lead to passivity and shock, and a sort of anaesthetisation.
I don’t want to censor the papers, but I think showing some disgust when they publish such images is our moral duty. Page three of the Sun wasn't banned, but it withered because of public disapproval. Papers are losing readers and ad revenues fast. Let it be on their heads. We'll see how long this kind of sensationalism at the expense of grieving families can thrive.
Having gone to war—I worked on communications strategy for the US general staff in Baghdad in 2008-9—and having reported on crime and guns and humanity's less admirable qualities, I feel very strongly that we should be free to look at the most immediate, visceral consequences of those qualities. Whether we look is not as important as how we look.
We must look not to fetishise, not to knee-jerkily multiply the spectacle for those personally touched by such an event. We must look to glean what we can about such an event, to challenge what we thought before and contextualise what we may think after.
But the TV cameras weren't the only ones that were rolling. The gunman—a former employee of the network who subsequently killed himself—also filmed the attack. He posted the footage to Twitter, where it could be viewed by anyone following the story, including some who saw it unintentionally thanks to the social networking site's "auto-play" feature.
The debate—to watch or not to watch the footage—is similar to that held each time film of an atrocity by the Islamic State (IS) is released by the terrorist group. By watching records of horrific acts, do we in some way collude with their perpetrators? Or does doing so help us to understand such actions better, prevent them in future, and to sympathise with their victims?
No—there's nothing to gain
Peter Jukes—journalist and writerIn a context where these atrocities are being publicised by the perpetrator, they’re doing so for a reason and we shouldn’t watch them. There are other atrocities which are different because they’re hidden and need publicising, like the deaths of refugees and migrants on the roads and seaways around Europe. But if terrorists or lone, crazed narcissists are filming their own actions you have to question why you are colluding with them in watching. There’s a great difference between hiding a horrible truth and someone using it as a vehicle for a political or personal agenda. On a personal level, there’s nothing much to be gained from the videos. They are pornographic and they don’t lead to action. They lead to passivity and shock, and a sort of anaesthetisation.
I don’t want to censor the papers, but I think showing some disgust when they publish such images is our moral duty. Page three of the Sun wasn't banned, but it withered because of public disapproval. Papers are losing readers and ad revenues fast. Let it be on their heads. We'll see how long this kind of sensationalism at the expense of grieving families can thrive.
Yes—let's learn what we can
Adam Weinsten—Journalist and former senior political writer for Gawker.comHaving gone to war—I worked on communications strategy for the US general staff in Baghdad in 2008-9—and having reported on crime and guns and humanity's less admirable qualities, I feel very strongly that we should be free to look at the most immediate, visceral consequences of those qualities. Whether we look is not as important as how we look.
We must look not to fetishise, not to knee-jerkily multiply the spectacle for those personally touched by such an event. We must look to glean what we can about such an event, to challenge what we thought before and contextualise what we may think after.
