Making Us Think Differently
A teenager was murdered in Brooklyn a few days ago. A dozen or so bandits attacked the boy and his friends, stole many things — including tennis shoes and an iPod — and stabbed the kid to death.
I know about this story because… well… I don’t know why. Was this the only American teenager murdered that day? No. Of course not. Rather, the story was deemed news-worthy because the robbers may have targeted the kid for his iPod.
Much like the recent spate of shark attack news, we’re told these stories because they create sensation and inspire fear. Our oceans aren’t suddenly full of man-crazy sharks, and my neighborhood isn’t being canvassed by gangs knifing anyone with a stylish portable device. Why was I told this story then? I suppose because the national media needs to garner more eyeballs and sell more advertising, even if it means leaving the American public less informed than they were before. (It won’t be long now before a helpful relative tells me that I should never carry a cell phone in public since I might be murdered for it. And I should most certainly never carry it into the ocean, where it might be ingested by a man-crazy shark doubling as an identity thief.)
Okay, I’m not exactly the first one to make this point about our media. But the “iPod story” took an especially odd turn yesterday. Apparently the CEO of Apple, Steve Jobs, called the father of the slain boy to offer his condolences and support. On one level, this is understandable. A teenager was randomly killed, his family is dealing with unparalleled loss, then Jobs hears the story, feels deep sadness, and gives the father a call.
But on another level, this seems very, very, very, very weird. Should the CEO of the company who made the device really make this phone call? Isn’t there something creepily corporate about that? “I’m sorry we made such an attractive device, sir.” Or, “I know you you feel sir, the iBook totally killed me last quarter.”
Anyway, because of the phone call, the story has gone international, and the boy is still dead.
The lines seem fuzzy here. Compassion is a good thing — perhaps the best of things — but that’s not why we’re told stories like this. There’s no national, corrective action that can be spurred by this — it’s merely sensation for sensation’s sake. Some of us will feel compassion for a random, far-away family, but some of us will grow a bit more de-sensitized. And a few of us will wish the national media would report only items of national interest.
Like, for example, whether Angelina and Brad have been seen kissing on a beach lately.