I guess that I ought to read a journalism text book. All the same, it seems to me that journalism has several important functions in a democracy.
To inform
Journalists report what happens. To be precise, they report on some of what happens. Without journalism, I would know little about what goes on beyond my immediate activities. Were I not to know, then I could not adequately participate in local, regional, national or supra-national decision-making. How else could I be informed? I could read Hansard to know what has been happening in Parliament (I have in the past). I could access the websites of politicians in order to read their speeches (I do). I could data-mine the website of the Office of National Statistics (I do). I could manage without journalism, but getting at the information would require more effort. On the other hand, I would be reading information that I chose, rather than have someone else choose for me.
To witness
In times and places in which the journalism is weaker, more happens that ought not to go on. Would the atrocities of Srebriniza, or the human rights violations of Abu Graib, have occurred had journalists been present to witness what took place? What would I do if I had a journalist shadowing me? Anyone can witness, but journalists are professional witnesses.
To whistleblow
I enjoyed watching the movie All The President's Men, starring Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman. I often watch The Pelican Brief. Both movies involve journalists digging up the truth. It would be optimistic to suppose that many news organisations spent much of their time researching activities on which a whistle needs to be blown.
To hold senior people to account
I can listen neither to Jeremy Paxman on BBC 2 television's Newsnight current affairs programme, nor John Humphries on BBC Radio 4's Today programme. The interviewing style of both is not only far too abrasive for my taste, and almost perpetually sneering, but also rooted in the kind of conservatism that rejoices in its philistinism. However, what they also represent is the aspect of journalism that can hold to account politicians, business leaders, trades union leaders, and their like.
... more?
Showing posts with label broadcast media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label broadcast media. Show all posts
04 February 2010
03 February 2010
Journalism 1: fleas on the back of democracy
It can be argued, and often is, that free and open journalism is a key function for the effective working of a democracy. News of national and international political and economic affairs is presented by journalists as a truth lieing somewhere between contextualised fact and informed opinion.
It is a disappointment, therefore, the underwhelmingly poor quality of popular (as distinct from specialist) journalism in the UK makes it easy to assess as very poor value - a high price to be paid in public attention (as well as the invasion of privacy) for such insubstantial fare. The focus on sport, celebrity, royalty, reality television shows and soap operas is bad enough. However, the self-satisfied - sometimes self-congratulatory , insular - sometimes jingoistic, ill-educated - sometimes mocking the mre highly educated, illiberal - sometimes sneering at those who try to understand people who transgress social norms, grub dollopped into porcelain and melamine dishes alike, makes it all-too-clear why "Support our Boys" and "Help for Heroes" have become national slogans regardless of the immorality, the geopolitical stupidity, and the financial burden of stationing trained killers and their support staff in a far away country called Afghanistan.
Prize-winning US journalist, writer and philosopher, on the other hand, "held no assumption of news and truth being synonymous. For him the “function of news is to signalize an event, the function of truth is to bring to light the hidden facts, to set them in relation with each other, and make a picture of reality on which men can act.” A journalist’s version of the truth is subjective and limited to how he constructs his reality. The news, therefore, is “imperfectly recorded” and too fragile to bear the charge as “an organ of direct democracy.”
'Public confidence' is a euphemism for the opinion of journalists, fat cat editors, advertisers, and phalanxes of well-funded lobbyists. Public confidence in science and scientists is not a direct response to scientific findings, but is directed by journalists / lobbyists.
My comments above are (reworked Twitter) responses to the following Twitter posting that refers to a BBC so-called-news item: "Does the world of climate science need a radical rethink? Susan Watts reports on IPCC blunders: http://tiny.cc/WuwiS "
The entire article appears to me to be scurrilous, intending to create and foment the doubt it purports to report. My 'evidence' is an extended interview given by Sir David King and broadcast on Night Waves, BBC Radio 3, on the evening of Tuesday 26 January 2010. Here is the programme blurb:
"As part of the BBC Year of Science, Radio 3's Night Waves is running a special series of extended interviews with leading scientists from Britain and the rest of the world. Each month a complete 45 minute edition will be dedicated to a single scientific figure talking to him or her about their research specialism, their wider scientific views, their personal background and their involvement with broader cultural and political questions.
"In the first interview Anne McElvoy talks to David King, the UK government's chief scientific officer from 2000 to 2007 - a job which put him at the heart of one of the burning issues of our time: the relationship between scientists, the government and the general public. On his watch David King faced foot and mouth, the GM foods debate, the ratification of the Kyoto protocol and the Stern Report.
"South African born and a physical chemist by training, David King arguably did more than any other scientist to put the issue of Climate Change onto the UK's public and political map. Anne gauges his opinions on the failure of the Copenhagen summit and asks about the nature of scientific orthodoxy after the furore over the climate change emails from the University of East Anglia, where he used to work.
"And what does he think about the status of scientific knowledge in the political process, an issue brought sharply into focus by the recent resignation of David Nutt, the chairman of the government's Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs?
"David King is a self confessed optimist, his personal style is that of the quietly spoken diplomat but he is no stranger to controversy. He publicly criticised the Bush administration over its environmental policies and has himself been declared an embarrassment by those with different opinions over climate change."
I was fascinated to listen to the interview. I studied the history and philosophy of science at university, and still often read popular science and science history books. Therefore it was good to hear a scientist talking meaningfully about the business of doing science, the philosophy behind and theory of the scientific method, and what it was like to interface with politicians (and journalists) who had little understanding of, and even less sympathy for, the on-the-ground realities of science.
In stark contrast to my comfort with the feet-on-the-ground reasonableness of what David King had to say, I experienced the interviewer, Executive Editor of the (London) Evening Standard, Anne McElvoy, to be extremely irritating in the perpetual slant of her questions. I was unclear whether she had a specific agenda (probably partly to do with David Nutt's recent falling out with the government, but also to assert the role of journalists in the debate about climate change); was trying repeatedly to goad him (which succeeded on several occasions, and I also noted that the interview simply stopped - it did not come to an end), or was just plain ignorant (both meanings of the word). I dislike it when an interviewer is not actually interested in the answer given by the interviewee.
In one section of the interview, David King gave a clear message, supported by clear examples, that the pressure from climate change skeptics is extremely well organised, extremely well funded, and has an unswerving aim of derailing political attempts to limit climate change. There is no respect in which it would be possible to suggest that the man is paranoid. His observations, explanations and arguments were persuasive beyond assailability - which is why I wondered if the journalist was simply stupid (which she cannot possibly be) when she refused to acknowledge the absurdity of some of the positions she took.
All that said, the interview was well worth listening to, and I am disappointed that it is not available online. In contrast, Susan Watts' piece (linked above) is mere scurrilous junk!
It is a disappointment, therefore, the underwhelmingly poor quality of popular (as distinct from specialist) journalism in the UK makes it easy to assess as very poor value - a high price to be paid in public attention (as well as the invasion of privacy) for such insubstantial fare. The focus on sport, celebrity, royalty, reality television shows and soap operas is bad enough. However, the self-satisfied - sometimes self-congratulatory , insular - sometimes jingoistic, ill-educated - sometimes mocking the mre highly educated, illiberal - sometimes sneering at those who try to understand people who transgress social norms, grub dollopped into porcelain and melamine dishes alike, makes it all-too-clear why "Support our Boys" and "Help for Heroes" have become national slogans regardless of the immorality, the geopolitical stupidity, and the financial burden of stationing trained killers and their support staff in a far away country called Afghanistan.
Prize-winning US journalist, writer and philosopher, on the other hand, "held no assumption of news and truth being synonymous. For him the “function of news is to signalize an event, the function of truth is to bring to light the hidden facts, to set them in relation with each other, and make a picture of reality on which men can act.” A journalist’s version of the truth is subjective and limited to how he constructs his reality. The news, therefore, is “imperfectly recorded” and too fragile to bear the charge as “an organ of direct democracy.”
'Public confidence' is a euphemism for the opinion of journalists, fat cat editors, advertisers, and phalanxes of well-funded lobbyists. Public confidence in science and scientists is not a direct response to scientific findings, but is directed by journalists / lobbyists.
My comments above are (reworked Twitter) responses to the following Twitter posting that refers to a BBC so-called-news item: "Does the world of climate science need a radical rethink? Susan Watts reports on IPCC blunders: http://tiny.cc/WuwiS "
The entire article appears to me to be scurrilous, intending to create and foment the doubt it purports to report. My 'evidence' is an extended interview given by Sir David King and broadcast on Night Waves, BBC Radio 3, on the evening of Tuesday 26 January 2010. Here is the programme blurb:
"As part of the BBC Year of Science, Radio 3's Night Waves is running a special series of extended interviews with leading scientists from Britain and the rest of the world. Each month a complete 45 minute edition will be dedicated to a single scientific figure talking to him or her about their research specialism, their wider scientific views, their personal background and their involvement with broader cultural and political questions.
"In the first interview Anne McElvoy talks to David King, the UK government's chief scientific officer from 2000 to 2007 - a job which put him at the heart of one of the burning issues of our time: the relationship between scientists, the government and the general public. On his watch David King faced foot and mouth, the GM foods debate, the ratification of the Kyoto protocol and the Stern Report.
"South African born and a physical chemist by training, David King arguably did more than any other scientist to put the issue of Climate Change onto the UK's public and political map. Anne gauges his opinions on the failure of the Copenhagen summit and asks about the nature of scientific orthodoxy after the furore over the climate change emails from the University of East Anglia, where he used to work.
"And what does he think about the status of scientific knowledge in the political process, an issue brought sharply into focus by the recent resignation of David Nutt, the chairman of the government's Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs?
"David King is a self confessed optimist, his personal style is that of the quietly spoken diplomat but he is no stranger to controversy. He publicly criticised the Bush administration over its environmental policies and has himself been declared an embarrassment by those with different opinions over climate change."
I was fascinated to listen to the interview. I studied the history and philosophy of science at university, and still often read popular science and science history books. Therefore it was good to hear a scientist talking meaningfully about the business of doing science, the philosophy behind and theory of the scientific method, and what it was like to interface with politicians (and journalists) who had little understanding of, and even less sympathy for, the on-the-ground realities of science.
In stark contrast to my comfort with the feet-on-the-ground reasonableness of what David King had to say, I experienced the interviewer, Executive Editor of the (London) Evening Standard, Anne McElvoy, to be extremely irritating in the perpetual slant of her questions. I was unclear whether she had a specific agenda (probably partly to do with David Nutt's recent falling out with the government, but also to assert the role of journalists in the debate about climate change); was trying repeatedly to goad him (which succeeded on several occasions, and I also noted that the interview simply stopped - it did not come to an end), or was just plain ignorant (both meanings of the word). I dislike it when an interviewer is not actually interested in the answer given by the interviewee.
In one section of the interview, David King gave a clear message, supported by clear examples, that the pressure from climate change skeptics is extremely well organised, extremely well funded, and has an unswerving aim of derailing political attempts to limit climate change. There is no respect in which it would be possible to suggest that the man is paranoid. His observations, explanations and arguments were persuasive beyond assailability - which is why I wondered if the journalist was simply stupid (which she cannot possibly be) when she refused to acknowledge the absurdity of some of the positions she took.
All that said, the interview was well worth listening to, and I am disappointed that it is not available online. In contrast, Susan Watts' piece (linked above) is mere scurrilous junk!
31 December 2007
A Twentieth Century man
I have several dictionaries. Working as a counsellor, words and language mean much to me. William Shakespeare is my hero: I watched my first Shakespeare play (Twelfth Night) when I was ten years old. I have four generations of Chambers dictionaries: from the 1950s (Chambers 20th Century Dictionary, recently acquired second hand), 1972 (Chambers 20th Century Dictionary, a Christmas present), 1988 (Chambers English Dictionary, my own choice) and 2003 (Chambers Dictionary, also my own choice). I prefer Chambers because its definitions tend to be more liberal-minded, less conservative, less reactionary than other dictionaries. However, I have an extreme objection to Chambers' progressive acceptance and incorporation of the '-ize' suffix, an appendage that, in spite of my Classical education (I studied Latin for five years, Classical Greek for two years, and some years ago made a serious attempt to teach myself Biblical Greek), I consider to be affected (as in an affectation, used by someone who wishes to puff up their language, making themselves sound clever and important, like people using the word 'whilst' when they mean 'while') and/or elitist (its 'correct' use - to use it incorrectly flagrantly demonstrates 'ignorance' - is only when the word's root is from Classical Greek, and who but a Classics scholar is likely to remember which English words have a Classical Greek root?), and gratuitously unnecessary. Use of the '-ize' suffix sneers at both ignorance and dyslexia: it is anti-language. In contrast, use of the '-ise' suffix is universally applicable, and to be favoured by the proles, the hoi poloi, the sans culottes - the people who make a reality of democracy and democratic language.
I have a reverse dictionary that has been useful only very occasionally. I have a dictionary of words first used in the twentieth century. This latter, although of little practical use, is interesting. I have a much-used Roget's thesaurus, and much-less used Brewer's dictionary of phrase and fable, Brewer's concise dictionary of phrase and fable, and Brewer's twentieth century dictionary of phrase and fable. There are also the Oxford dictionary of quotations, and Oxford companions to both the English language and English literature. Beyond English alone, there are dictionaries of signing (BSL) and of other European languages. Were I to be required to shelve all these dictionaries in an attic, I should probably guess that they weighed in at about 50 kg. So why is my first port of call always the internet? Reading The Wisdom of Crowds, recently, I came across the word 'fungible'. The context in which the word was being used offered few clues about its meaning. I checked it out on the internet. As well as definitions, I read the Wikipedia entry. I felt enlightened. I then checked Chambers. The definition was clear and concise, just as I should expect. Yet had I not also read more widely, including the Wikipedia entry, my understanding would have been as thin as gravy made only with a vegetable stock cube.
The words and phrases that I use, and the thoughts that inspire my articulations, belong to the twentieth century. I was born in the middle, the heart, of the twentieth century, the century that provided the context and backdrop for everything I thought and said and did. I learned to speak and think twentieth century, and I have twentieth century preoccupations, such as a concern for technology, for communication, for identity, for democracy, for equality, for spirituality freed from the shackles of traditional religion. Whilst it could easily be shown that none of these is unique to the twentieth century, their assemblage certainly is. It is true that being born and raised in Western Europe, and in Britain in particular, I also became, and continue to become, progressively more aware of previous centuries; but this itself is the root and relativism of post-modernism, a philosophical framework that belongs to the second half of the twentieth century. Simply by being brought up in the second half of the twentieth century, without the requirement of an elite education, I have the capacity to identify with the industrial entrepreneurs of the nineteenth century, the enlightened free-thinkers of the eighteenth century, the radical Commonwealth republicans of the seventeenth century, and so on.
What of the twenty-first century? I am not sure. If the twentieth century could be characterised as a battle between the old and the new, between empire and new democracy, between generations, between the sexes, between enforced adherence to stereotype and searching for new identities, then to a large extent we won. At the start of the twenty-first century, Britain is much closer to France than to Britain at the start of the twentieth century. However, now those battles are over, apathy appears to have set in. Politicians bemoan the public's lack of interest in politics, whereas people vote in their millions for ghastly television trash such as Big Brother and the X-Factor. (Whilst Marx's aphorism about religion is widely misunderstood as a criticism of religion, when he was observing the solace that drown-trodden workers were able to find in it, his 'misquotation' could more aptly be applied to the early twenty-first century addiction to television soap operas.) People no longer appear to have much interest in raw spirituality, and the church pews tend to be occupied by people who have chosen to leave elsewhere and make Britain their home. Concern by adults and children alike for technology seems to focus on games consoles, and battles and wars that are fought look increasingly like computer games and disaster movies. Royal Mail, the UK postal delivery organisation is close to collapse because no-one writes letters any more - it is not that I am knocking e-mail, it is my sadness that the text-message culture hardly favours deep and careful thought.
What of the twenty-first century? The battles having been fought, apathy and lethargy won. I think that ordinary, everyday, twenty-first century Britain lacks a sense of direction, purpose and aspiration. Maybe that is one of the reasons I remain a twentieth century man.
I have a reverse dictionary that has been useful only very occasionally. I have a dictionary of words first used in the twentieth century. This latter, although of little practical use, is interesting. I have a much-used Roget's thesaurus, and much-less used Brewer's dictionary of phrase and fable, Brewer's concise dictionary of phrase and fable, and Brewer's twentieth century dictionary of phrase and fable. There are also the Oxford dictionary of quotations, and Oxford companions to both the English language and English literature. Beyond English alone, there are dictionaries of signing (BSL) and of other European languages. Were I to be required to shelve all these dictionaries in an attic, I should probably guess that they weighed in at about 50 kg. So why is my first port of call always the internet? Reading The Wisdom of Crowds, recently, I came across the word 'fungible'. The context in which the word was being used offered few clues about its meaning. I checked it out on the internet. As well as definitions, I read the Wikipedia entry. I felt enlightened. I then checked Chambers. The definition was clear and concise, just as I should expect. Yet had I not also read more widely, including the Wikipedia entry, my understanding would have been as thin as gravy made only with a vegetable stock cube.
The words and phrases that I use, and the thoughts that inspire my articulations, belong to the twentieth century. I was born in the middle, the heart, of the twentieth century, the century that provided the context and backdrop for everything I thought and said and did. I learned to speak and think twentieth century, and I have twentieth century preoccupations, such as a concern for technology, for communication, for identity, for democracy, for equality, for spirituality freed from the shackles of traditional religion. Whilst it could easily be shown that none of these is unique to the twentieth century, their assemblage certainly is. It is true that being born and raised in Western Europe, and in Britain in particular, I also became, and continue to become, progressively more aware of previous centuries; but this itself is the root and relativism of post-modernism, a philosophical framework that belongs to the second half of the twentieth century. Simply by being brought up in the second half of the twentieth century, without the requirement of an elite education, I have the capacity to identify with the industrial entrepreneurs of the nineteenth century, the enlightened free-thinkers of the eighteenth century, the radical Commonwealth republicans of the seventeenth century, and so on.
What of the twenty-first century? I am not sure. If the twentieth century could be characterised as a battle between the old and the new, between empire and new democracy, between generations, between the sexes, between enforced adherence to stereotype and searching for new identities, then to a large extent we won. At the start of the twenty-first century, Britain is much closer to France than to Britain at the start of the twentieth century. However, now those battles are over, apathy appears to have set in. Politicians bemoan the public's lack of interest in politics, whereas people vote in their millions for ghastly television trash such as Big Brother and the X-Factor. (Whilst Marx's aphorism about religion is widely misunderstood as a criticism of religion, when he was observing the solace that drown-trodden workers were able to find in it, his 'misquotation' could more aptly be applied to the early twenty-first century addiction to television soap operas.) People no longer appear to have much interest in raw spirituality, and the church pews tend to be occupied by people who have chosen to leave elsewhere and make Britain their home. Concern by adults and children alike for technology seems to focus on games consoles, and battles and wars that are fought look increasingly like computer games and disaster movies. Royal Mail, the UK postal delivery organisation is close to collapse because no-one writes letters any more - it is not that I am knocking e-mail, it is my sadness that the text-message culture hardly favours deep and careful thought.
What of the twenty-first century? The battles having been fought, apathy and lethargy won. I think that ordinary, everyday, twenty-first century Britain lacks a sense of direction, purpose and aspiration. Maybe that is one of the reasons I remain a twentieth century man.
29 December 2007
Nationhood (1): Fiddler on the Roof
I recently watched a television broadcast of Norman Jewison's 1971 movie Fiddler on the Roof. I have the VHS video, which I have watched several times, and I am wondering whether to buy the DVD. I often watch on television movies that I have on video. Not only is the quality of the broadcast picture superior - we have a Freeview digibox (digital television signal) box - but the inability to pause and rewind, which I do a lot in order to reflect on what I am watching, much to the mounting annoyance of my wife and daughter - we do not have TiVo - gives the viewing experience an edginess that whilst usually less intellectually satisfying, with the inevitable risk of disengagement between awareness and an integrated cognitive/conative/affective and imaginal response, can be emotionally more gratifying.
I was concerned, having watched the movie for the nth time, to discover what some of the critics have written about it. Roger Ebert was mildly scathing, whereas others have been more generous, although generous is probably what they intended. I find it helpful to read critics' reviews because they inevitably confirm some of my own thoughts and responses, and suggest others that had not occurred to me. I do not fully trust my own judgment. Most obviously for me, a good movie is one that I wish to watch many times. I feel cheated if the movie is not worth watching more than once. For this reason I rarely watch made-for-television movies. I am also likely to feel cheated if the only differences between the first and second viewings are that I know the plot twists and the denouement. On this basis I have learned that I have little interest in watching Ocean's Xteen. I was intrigued to find out whether I would find watching Memento as satisfying for the second time. The jury is still out on whether I should buy the DVD (the issue of memory is important to me). At the other end of the spectrum, the movies I like best are one's that, every time, take me on a journey, if I am up for it, into an even deeper understanding of what it is for me to be human in this world. This is what makes the movies of Andrei Tarkovsky, Akira Kurosawa, Peter Greenaway and Godfrey Regio so compelling for me, and also why I have a fascination for dystopias. In a 'good movie' there will always be the opportunity to discover more. Sometimes this involves seeing/hearing more clearly. My best analogue for this concerns a CD of music by Peter Maxwell Davies. I did not 'understand' what I was listening to the first time I heard it. The dissonances sounded like a cacophony, and the broken rhythms sounded like chaos. Only from many repeated playings have I come to hear the beauty and poise, accompanied by a progressive appreciation of his music. I care what critics write about Peter Maxwell Davies, or about Tarkovsky, Kurosawa, Greenaway or Regio, because I wish to 'understand' more. I am not required to agree with the evaluations of critics. A case in point is the movie I Heart Huckabees. I took the movie at face value albeit on three levels: 1) the level of plot / story / entertainment, etc.; 2) the movie-making level - script, acting, characterisation, filming, editing, etc.; 3) a philosophical level. On the first two of these levels the movie is terrible, and nothing on earth would induce me to watch it again. However, on the philosophical level the movie has something to say, and I shall watch it again. Naturally the critics slammed the movie. I also discovered from the reviews is that the movie is considered to be a spoof, the director intentionally mocking intellectual movies. Maybe, therefore, unlike the Peter Maxwell Davies CD, the movie has little so say - a second viewing and I shall be done with it - maybe. The idea of an existential detective agency interests me, even if the director intended it as a joke.
What does Fiddler on the Roof offer me in repeated viewings? There are major issues of personal, social and national identity, of cultural tradition ("Tradition"), and of spirituality. During the most recent viewing I felt challenged by the concept of personal, cultural and spiritual identity determining national identity. I like the globalised world in which we now live, and the breakdown of a one-to-one mapping between cultural and spiritual identity on the one hand and nationality (whether it be where I live or what is written in my passport) on the other. Whilst I understand something about Israel and about Kosovo, I also understand something about early twentieth century Japan, about Nazi Germany, about Afghanistan's Taleban, about aspects of Putin's Russia. I applaud the European Union both for its programme of smudging the statehood of nations, and for its support of cultural and spiritual diversity. These kinds of articulated insights are gold dust. I wonder what Fiddler on the Roof will offer me next time.
I was concerned, having watched the movie for the nth time, to discover what some of the critics have written about it. Roger Ebert was mildly scathing, whereas others have been more generous, although generous is probably what they intended. I find it helpful to read critics' reviews because they inevitably confirm some of my own thoughts and responses, and suggest others that had not occurred to me. I do not fully trust my own judgment. Most obviously for me, a good movie is one that I wish to watch many times. I feel cheated if the movie is not worth watching more than once. For this reason I rarely watch made-for-television movies. I am also likely to feel cheated if the only differences between the first and second viewings are that I know the plot twists and the denouement. On this basis I have learned that I have little interest in watching Ocean's Xteen. I was intrigued to find out whether I would find watching Memento as satisfying for the second time. The jury is still out on whether I should buy the DVD (the issue of memory is important to me). At the other end of the spectrum, the movies I like best are one's that, every time, take me on a journey, if I am up for it, into an even deeper understanding of what it is for me to be human in this world. This is what makes the movies of Andrei Tarkovsky, Akira Kurosawa, Peter Greenaway and Godfrey Regio so compelling for me, and also why I have a fascination for dystopias. In a 'good movie' there will always be the opportunity to discover more. Sometimes this involves seeing/hearing more clearly. My best analogue for this concerns a CD of music by Peter Maxwell Davies. I did not 'understand' what I was listening to the first time I heard it. The dissonances sounded like a cacophony, and the broken rhythms sounded like chaos. Only from many repeated playings have I come to hear the beauty and poise, accompanied by a progressive appreciation of his music. I care what critics write about Peter Maxwell Davies, or about Tarkovsky, Kurosawa, Greenaway or Regio, because I wish to 'understand' more. I am not required to agree with the evaluations of critics. A case in point is the movie I Heart Huckabees. I took the movie at face value albeit on three levels: 1) the level of plot / story / entertainment, etc.; 2) the movie-making level - script, acting, characterisation, filming, editing, etc.; 3) a philosophical level. On the first two of these levels the movie is terrible, and nothing on earth would induce me to watch it again. However, on the philosophical level the movie has something to say, and I shall watch it again. Naturally the critics slammed the movie. I also discovered from the reviews is that the movie is considered to be a spoof, the director intentionally mocking intellectual movies. Maybe, therefore, unlike the Peter Maxwell Davies CD, the movie has little so say - a second viewing and I shall be done with it - maybe. The idea of an existential detective agency interests me, even if the director intended it as a joke.
What does Fiddler on the Roof offer me in repeated viewings? There are major issues of personal, social and national identity, of cultural tradition ("Tradition"), and of spirituality. During the most recent viewing I felt challenged by the concept of personal, cultural and spiritual identity determining national identity. I like the globalised world in which we now live, and the breakdown of a one-to-one mapping between cultural and spiritual identity on the one hand and nationality (whether it be where I live or what is written in my passport) on the other. Whilst I understand something about Israel and about Kosovo, I also understand something about early twentieth century Japan, about Nazi Germany, about Afghanistan's Taleban, about aspects of Putin's Russia. I applaud the European Union both for its programme of smudging the statehood of nations, and for its support of cultural and spiritual diversity. These kinds of articulated insights are gold dust. I wonder what Fiddler on the Roof will offer me next time.
14 April 2007
Green issues 9: media discussion of green issues
Why does every other comment in the UK media regarding global warming appear to criticise either air travel or 4 x 4s, the so-called 'Chelsea tractors'? I think that reason might involve the fact that they are, for several reasons, popular targets, and also that these targets serve to distract from addressing more sensitive issues.
[To be continued...]
[To be continued...]
27 May 2006
The media mainstreaming of the language of the BNP
The political agenda of the UK appears no longer to be driven by elected representatives, but is being determined by the reationary politics promoted by News International (News Corporation) and the commercial imperative of the purveyors of what the news media chose to define as news. It used to be the case that although the national newspapers were politically partisan, political action took place in the political arena: Westminster, the soapbox and demonstrations. In May 1997 the news media wrested from the UK Consertvative Party the mantle of quasi-formal opposition to the newly-elected Blair government. I am unsure about precisely when the Blair government lost control of the agenda, possibly in the run-up to the most recent (5 May 2005) general election. Maybe control of the political agenda has been ebbing away from Westminster over a period of years. This current period reminds me of the time between Tony Blair's election to leadership of the UK Labour Party (21 July 1994) and his defeat of Conservative John Major (2 May 1997), except that it is now Rupert Murdoch for whom we are waiting to move into 10 Downing Street.
Current so-called revelations about the UK Home Office appear largely driven by an agenda of xenophobia. The rehtoric focuses on the deportation of foreign nationals, 'bogus' asylum seekers, 'economic' migrants, refugees and people trafficking. For reasons I find it difficult to understand many people in Britain have become addicted to this unpleasant, bunker propaganda that should be the sole preserve of Nick Griffin's British National Party, the Front National of Jean-Marie Le Pen, and paranoic, white-supremicist, North American redneck militias. (The one difference is that the UK media appear to be anti-Arab rather than anti-Jewish.)
The phrase that prompts my wry smile is "this island nation of ours". The UK is neither the most densely populated country in the world, nor the most densely populated country in Europe. The UK ranks 33 in the world league table, next to Germany, whereas the Netherlands (15) and Belgium (17) have considerably higher population densities. I am unfamiliar with people complaining about living in Jersey, Guernsey or Barbados: real islands with much higher population densities; and even London ranks well down the list in the world and in Europe.
I am not claiming that what is being stated in the headlines is necessarily factually inaccurate, but that it is being given a maliciously-twisted relevance.
... to be continued ...
However, vox pop suggests that not only is the UK population buying into this de facto deceit, but also appear immune to the facts and their significance. To illustrate this point, regarding law and order, to anyone in the UK it is self-evident both that there are fewer police officers and that crime is all but out of control - whereas despite better recording, recorded crime has been on the decline for the past 15 or more years, and there are more police officers, as well as civilians working for the police, than ever before. Regarding health, the UK public focuses on the fact there are one-third fewer hospital beds than at some point in the past, rather than the relevant facts that life expectancy has risen so much that there is a major crisis in pension savings; or that the rate at which new drugs to address this or that illness or condition are being introduced appears to be accelerating; or, perhaps most significantly, that medical procedures have advanced sufficiently that the need for lengthy stays in hospital has thankfully been signifiantly reduced. Regarding tobacco smoking, the UK public demand a right to damage the health of allcomers (smokers and non-smokers alike), whingeing plaintively about hospitals that ban smoking, and confetti-ing with cigartette butts the entrance to public buildings, when all the evidence for decades has unequivocally, adequately and graphically illustrated that smoking should be stopped immediately; as well as buying from the informal economy significant quantities of cigarettes on which no duty has been paid (are these the same people who buy newspapers that peddle myths about crime being out of control?).
... to be continued ...
Current so-called revelations about the UK Home Office appear largely driven by an agenda of xenophobia. The rehtoric focuses on the deportation of foreign nationals, 'bogus' asylum seekers, 'economic' migrants, refugees and people trafficking. For reasons I find it difficult to understand many people in Britain have become addicted to this unpleasant, bunker propaganda that should be the sole preserve of Nick Griffin's British National Party, the Front National of Jean-Marie Le Pen, and paranoic, white-supremicist, North American redneck militias. (The one difference is that the UK media appear to be anti-Arab rather than anti-Jewish.)
The phrase that prompts my wry smile is "this island nation of ours". The UK is neither the most densely populated country in the world, nor the most densely populated country in Europe. The UK ranks 33 in the world league table, next to Germany, whereas the Netherlands (15) and Belgium (17) have considerably higher population densities. I am unfamiliar with people complaining about living in Jersey, Guernsey or Barbados: real islands with much higher population densities; and even London ranks well down the list in the world and in Europe.
I am not claiming that what is being stated in the headlines is necessarily factually inaccurate, but that it is being given a maliciously-twisted relevance.
... to be continued ...
However, vox pop suggests that not only is the UK population buying into this de facto deceit, but also appear immune to the facts and their significance. To illustrate this point, regarding law and order, to anyone in the UK it is self-evident both that there are fewer police officers and that crime is all but out of control - whereas despite better recording, recorded crime has been on the decline for the past 15 or more years, and there are more police officers, as well as civilians working for the police, than ever before. Regarding health, the UK public focuses on the fact there are one-third fewer hospital beds than at some point in the past, rather than the relevant facts that life expectancy has risen so much that there is a major crisis in pension savings; or that the rate at which new drugs to address this or that illness or condition are being introduced appears to be accelerating; or, perhaps most significantly, that medical procedures have advanced sufficiently that the need for lengthy stays in hospital has thankfully been signifiantly reduced. Regarding tobacco smoking, the UK public demand a right to damage the health of allcomers (smokers and non-smokers alike), whingeing plaintively about hospitals that ban smoking, and confetti-ing with cigartette butts the entrance to public buildings, when all the evidence for decades has unequivocally, adequately and graphically illustrated that smoking should be stopped immediately; as well as buying from the informal economy significant quantities of cigarettes on which no duty has been paid (are these the same people who buy newspapers that peddle myths about crime being out of control?).
... to be continued ...
30 October 2005
Online, on-demand programmes
As a former reader-by-conviction of Undercurrents (a magazine of the 1970s with a strongly 'alternative' and green political analysis), I watched no television programmes for about twelve years. (The UK Television Licensing Authority had great difficulty accepting that I did not have a television, and caused me much grief with their aggressive and accusatory letters.) I had an aversion to having my attention and awareness shaped by a programming schedule that was outside my control. When I pick up a book or a magazine, or listen to a CD, or browse online, I am making choices about how I wish to shape my consciousness. Watching broadcast television, most of the control I had related to the on-off switch. I believe that, as a consequence of not watching television, I was both a more creative person, and a more interesting person with whom to interact.
I bought my first television in 1993, and although it has been reapired several times, I have not yet needed to replace it. Over the intervening twelve years I have slipped into the habit of watching Question Time and This Week (current affairs), Grand Designs and other property development programmes, and programmes about relocating one's home to the countryside or elsewhere in the world. However, the televison programme I came to watch with near-religious fervour was BBC 2's Newsnight. I used to drink it like I drank my first cup of tea in a morning. I now rarely watch the programme. Instead I receive a daily newsletter from the Newsnight team, and can catch the programme online. I like to be able to watch the parts of the programme that interest me, and to skip whatever sends me to sleep. I like to be able to watch the articles I want to watch when convenient for me. As well as matters of interest and convenience, I still have a desire to avoid conforming to some grand scheduling scheme. I hope that the recent announcement by the BBC to extend the online availability of more of their programmes heralds a rapid expansion of online, on demand viewing.
I bought my first television in 1993, and although it has been reapired several times, I have not yet needed to replace it. Over the intervening twelve years I have slipped into the habit of watching Question Time and This Week (current affairs), Grand Designs and other property development programmes, and programmes about relocating one's home to the countryside or elsewhere in the world. However, the televison programme I came to watch with near-religious fervour was BBC 2's Newsnight. I used to drink it like I drank my first cup of tea in a morning. I now rarely watch the programme. Instead I receive a daily newsletter from the Newsnight team, and can catch the programme online. I like to be able to watch the parts of the programme that interest me, and to skip whatever sends me to sleep. I like to be able to watch the articles I want to watch when convenient for me. As well as matters of interest and convenience, I still have a desire to avoid conforming to some grand scheduling scheme. I hope that the recent announcement by the BBC to extend the online availability of more of their programmes heralds a rapid expansion of online, on demand viewing.
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