Have the media been riding a crime wave, or have they been creating it? And what part should the press play?
In the government’s view, crime coverage is either misplaced or making mischief (akin to First National Bank). Officials believe the press is playing up perceptions that the state is unwilling or unable to stop the scourge.
The facts, the government argues, show a general decrease in crime. But over the past six months, with an angry tone of media coverage seeming to emerge, Pretoria’s rating has fallen.
Markinor research from November last year shows that just four of every 10 people think the government is doing a good job on crime. That’s down on the numbers for the previous two years.
City Press columnist Khathu Maimela probably didn’t have the government’s reputation in mind when he suggested recently that the media switch their focus away from crime. The really big issue, he argued, should be poverty — the overwhelming concern of the mass of rural compatriots.
But critique of media focus on crime is unlikely to have much effect on editors. The coverage isn’t about to go away — for the reason that it is driven more by a strong public agenda than any media one.
This is not to say that reporters are neutral bystanders. When I vented my revulsion recently about a gruesome image of a shot criminal, the journalists present expressed pleasure at the spectacle.
Yet, media attitudes aside, it is really crime itself that secures its place as a priority in organised public opinion and thence in the media. This is especially when the incidents involve violence.
It’s noticeable, nevertheless, that in recent weeks, media despair with the government’s handling of crime has diminished. This suggests that while crime may continue predominating coverage, its framing isn’t static. In fact, things could change even further.
Reinforcing this is recent dialogue between police and the media, where National Commissioner Jackie Selebi committed his officers to decentralised dealings with reporters.
This was an about-turn from an earlier edict that only provincial police spokespersons could talk to the media. The Forum of Community Journalists pointed out that this cumbersome arrangement would have led to the official side of the story being left out of most crime reportage.
In turn, that result would have marginalised the police. Already in much coverage, the success of Tracker outshadows police detective work. For their part, the tabloids don’t hesitate in celebrating ”people’s justice” over due process.
Welcoming Selebi’s changed position, the South African National Editors’ Forum stressed that not only crime prevention, but also acts of crime, necessitates quick flows of information to the press.
This dual emphasis reflects suspicions that the police are often quick to tell of their achievements in combating crime, but sometimes less forthcoming when it is the criminals who are successful.
Ironically, most media consumers only want to know about crime when it’s being countered. They want mainly stories where justice, rather than the criminals, triumphs. That challenges the media to juggle their duty to carry bad news with self-censorship in order to avoid alienating audiences.
Police information is important not only for good and bad news — it also, unfortunately, includes items that are neither here nor there. These are fragments usually conveyed in clichés, and all too often carried on South African Broadcasting Corporation weekend bulletins. There is neither graphic detail nor meaningful context. The information helps no one; it only maintains knowledge that crime continues.
What’s missing is a new approach that goes beyond the good, the bad and the bland. And a media stalemate with the government on crime coverage, like the one from which we seem to be emerging, doesn’t take us very far.
So, here are some ideas for the way forward:
1. A start could be made by the media scrapping the term ”crime” altogether. The word is a generalisation that obscures (and homogenises) a huge range of disparate behaviours of varying unpleasantness. We need to break it down if we are to make it manageable.
Less abstract reportage could create less generalised impressions. Something more tangible might then top the agenda — for example, the crisis of interpersonal violence that accompanies theft or domestic abuse, rather than encompassing the gamut of everything from corruption to family murders, drugs and child porn.
2. Next, a distinction between ”information” and ”story” can be made. To inform, the media could publish incidents as simple (but vivid) one-sentence briefs or short wraps. To count as a full story, complete with a meaningful message, particular cases could then be selected for their wider significance.
3. In presenting these more substantial stories, the rationale should be that they make a difference to people’s lives. For instance, their content might make sense by highlighting trends. Fostering empathy and assistance, and/or providing practical advice or encouragement, are equally good reasons for full-treatment stories.
4. Lastly, the media should apportion responsibility in fair measure. While the authorities can’t be left off the hook, it’s also clear that the problems are too big for them to solve alone. It used to be that many papers ran helpline numbers at the end of Aids-related stories. Today, why not carry the contact details of local community policing forums where relevant?
Can the media better contribute to a ”war on crime”? They have to.