/ 31 May 2013

The art of reporting on what’s interesting … but also important

There is always more depth to be found in and written about the many social problems that clamour for attention.
There is always more depth to be found in and written about the many social problems that clamour for attention.

At the time of writing, the death toll in Mpumalanga stood at 27, and six have died in Limpopo. There have not yet been reports of deaths in the Eastern Cape and other provinces, but it's early days yet. Last year's toll in the Eastern Cape was around 50.

In addition, there are the scores of young men who suffer mutilation or undergo amputation. It is a terrible, preventable waste of young lives.

What really caught the public imagination in these past weeks was the extraordinary statement by the Mpumalanga health MEC, Candith Mashego-Dlamini, that culture ­forbids her from getting involved in the issue since she is a woman. It was a comment reminiscent of Marie Antoinette's "Let them eat cake", but the MEC has resisted the resultant storm of criticism and calls for her resignation.

Last week, the Mail & Guardian's editorial meeting considered how the newspaper could deal with the ongoing story of circumcision deaths. There was a sense that it is an important story, but also that it is difficult to find anything new to say.

Reporting on ongoing social problems poses particular challenges. Whether it is rape, rhino poaching or drunk driving, the media have ­difficulty in keeping such stories fresh. We're good at reporting on dramatic events, not nearly as good at reflecting long-running problems.

Political controversies
It became a matter of some debate in the earlier years of the Aids pandemic, when activists and others accused the media of spending too much time reporting on the political controversies and not enough time talking about the every day, lived reality of HIV and Aids.

This was a time when the denialism of the Thabo Mbeki presidency was at its height, while court cases and imaginative public campaigns by groups like the Treatment Action Campaign provided plenty of the kind of drama and conflict that make for great copy.

But the drama overshadowed other aspects of the issue: medical science, the economic impact, the voices and perspectives of people living with the disease and much else.

Then, and now, the solution lies in good journalism: creative, original work that tells stories and provides nuance and depth.

These stories may not always end up on the front page, traditionally the place for dramatic news and revelations. But there is usually plenty of space further back in newspapers for more reflective writing.

During last year's circumcision season (terrible expression, that), the M&G published a report that illustrated what can be done. Writer Kwanele Sosibo provided a thoughtful, detailed account of the dynamics around the practice in the Eastern Cape, which provided real texture and depth. For a better understanding of the phenomenon, it would be well worth revisiting the piece now.

Initiation camps
One aspect that could well do with additional focus is the fact that the tradition of circumcision has become a small business for some. A few years ago, when a spate of deaths in the Middelburg area drew public attention, it emerged that a particular operator was running a chain of initiation camps in the mountains above the town.

Mashego-Dlamini pointed in a similar direction when she complained that the deaths in Mpumalanga were predominantly happening at unauthorised operations.

A growing population, increasingly urbanised, with significant numbers of young men desperate to meet the demands of tradition, unsurprisingly offers fertile ground for operators trying to make a quick buck. No wonder those young men are getting poor – often dangerous – care. In the Middelburg cases, it emerged that some froze to death because they were not given enough blankets ­during the icy Highveld winter.

There is always more depth to be found in and written about the many social problems that clamour for attention.

The value that journalism adds to addressing them is in creating public awareness and understanding. Journalists sometimes get frustrated that, despite their best efforts, these problems don't go away: a surprisingly large number of journalists went into the profession with an idealistic desire to fix the world.

Occasionally, a piece of journalism has direct consequences, such as when officials exposed as corrupt are actually suspended or charged, but this is rare when it comes to long-established social problems.

A rare exception could be seen at Wits University (where I work) recently, when reporting of cases of sexual harassment in the student newspaper galvanised university authorities into taking action.

But in general, major social problems are rooted in dynamics and factors that are complex and difficult to address. That's why they are resistant to solution.

It is a salutary reminder of the limits of journalism. We must deploy as much passion, creativity and skill as we can muster to inform our audiences of such issues. Sometimes, that is all journalists can do, and broader society will have to take it from there.

The Mail & Guardian's ombud provides an independent view of the paper's journalism. If you have any complaints you would like addressed, you can contact me at [email protected]. You can also phone the paper on 0112507300 and leave a message.