I can anticipate what you are expecting here. You expect a reference to Noam Chomsky. He is the usual done to tedium suspect. Chomsky is the apostle of many a precocious journalism student and who with Edward S. Herman co-wrote the seminal Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media thirty years back. The book has had many revisions since 1988 and has sold millions of copies. What Herman and Chomsky famously said amongst many things was that the media could not afford to question power by virtue of its corporate ownership and its dependence on advertising. Therefore, the myth of a free and fair media was just that — a myth. In reality, media was a by-product of market forces and it made sense for it to play along with the powers that be. Therefore, at best, the media was a status quoist and at worst, a propagandist. And it toed the line without explicit coercion. I see you are perplexed. You have no idea who or what Chomsky is. Save yourself the trouble of doing an Internet search for him. His views are absolutely irrelevant to the scheme of this book. You have passed an important test — you are the ideal reader for this book.
We can now cheerfully proceed with the true objective of journalism, which is to make sure we stay in a bubble of self-involved knowledge. We choose to know only that much that suits us. And that is where later thinkers, say Chomsky and Herman, might have erred a bit by assuming that the reader/ news consumer doesn’t know — it is more likely he or she chooses not to know. We have already established in previous chapters that what we think is truth is often just a validation of our own belief systems. What we seek then is the post truth, which is a bit like the after-party, once verified facts have left the party. It is where the real fun begins. Post truth is defined as a situation where people accept arguments based on emotion rather than objective standards for truth. It is usually found in abundance on a very credible broadcast medium — WhatsApp. But even conventional media rightly plays to the demand to show truths that have an emotive appeal. It is what the consumer wants. And if you don’t give it to them, they will find it on tailored newsfeeds on Facebook and you will be redundant.
Now, if you are a journalist or an aspiring journalist, you will thank me for how adroitly I have eased your conscience by putting the onus for credible news on the consumer. Though, it is slightly silly to have had a conscience in the first place, but I won’t get judgemental. A rather quaint description of the media is that of it being ‘the fourth estate’ (the other three estates being the legislature, the executive and the judiciary). As a media practitioner, you were traditionally then expected to ask counter-questions on matters of polity, governance and commerce. Which is why your superfluous conscience might be a tad burdened by this lofty job description — but you really need to do no such thing. Your consumer doesn’t want you to, your media owner doesn’t want you to and your news editor definitely doesn’t want you to. In fact, most news editors, especially in television, hardly know you exist. You are just a pair of hands that can construct sentences with barely adequate grammar. If you are slightly brighter and ambitious, that could extend to writing click-bait headlines. But don’t stretch yourself beyond that. I repeat — you really don’t need to.
If you still, however, feel this romantic desire to ask counter-questions, here is how you can squash it. Stay away from multiple or conflicting facts. Accept things at face value. Let’s do this step-by-step. How will you possess yourself of multiple facts? Well, you could start with reading up — that is secondary fact aggregation. You could do that, but always be selective in the facts you pick to retrofit to your preordained narrative. Preordained by your editor who thinks he is God. And it is very likely He is. But even selective aggregation is actually a lot of work, so I suggest you go with your gut and instinct. Completely infallible and something you have full control over. Now, you could have a temporary bout of insanity and go a step further in this noble mission of fact accumulation. You could actually step out into the world and report from the ground. But never do that — especially if you eventually want to be a news editor. A news editor brings multiple opinions, not facts, together and if he or she is in television, shouts over all of them. Facts and ground reportage should ideally not enter the picture at all. They will sober things down and spoil the party. Enjoy the cacophony of democracy. Facts are like the stuffy, authoritarian librarian who wants you to read in a corner and keep silent. Strike them off your list.
So now you have only one set of facts to go with — that makes your life easier. That is the only version you will bandy on television, print or the Internet. As a journalist, it is your business to keep tabs on the popular pulse and make sure the set of facts you have picked are in sync with that. News must give the viewer or the reader an emotional high. News must entertain and engage, and if it manages to inform, then that we must treat as unfortunate collateral damage. We really don’t want to inform anyone of anything at all. We want to keep journalism as minimal mind work. But you will have to camouflage your mental inactivity with frenetic physical activity. That, unfortunately, is non-negotiable. You have to look charged up and bursting with zeal when you are anything but that.
For the purpose of conceptual clarity, I would like to give you customized slacker guides for different kinds of journalism. We will start with the most high-profile and glamorous kind — television journalism. Here is how you can be a star on television news without ever doing a single half-decent investigative report or unearthing any kind of scam.
1. Be loud, be excitable, be a superhero. Television news is not for the feeble-hearted or the feeblevoiced. Be loud. Remember, we are part of a culture where noise is synonymous with productivity. We do things loudly in this country — we work loudly, we talk loudly, we fight loudly, we grieve loudly and we celebrate louder than all of these put together. Therefore, when we see a news anchor being loud and decisive on TV, we are conditioned to believe that he or she knows what they are talking about... Practise in front of a mirror every day. Glower. Bellow. Shake your fists. Peer. Flare your nostrils. Role play. Be a superhero.
2. Your superpower is anger. You have to figure out a way of staying angry all the time. Give up on yoga, meditation and chanting classes — you don’t need inner peace. The world needs you to stay angry. You also don’t want the world to have peace — you will lose your job. Work yourself up into a vigilante anger, ask furious questions. However, note that your furious questions are never to be directed at figures of authority. Line up some inconsequential spokespeople, throw in a few out-of-work army generals from Pakistan and bellow. Be righteous and emotional in your anger — your prime-time meltdown is cathartic for your viewers...
3. Be nationalistic. An important requisite for a television news editor is patriotism. These brave souls place the country above everything — especially independent investigation and verification of news. What these gallant men actually want to do is stand at the borders and lead marauding troops into enemy territory, but unfortunately, much against their will, they instead have to lead things from the hostile terrains of cushy, air-conditioned studios. These intrepid men refuse, though, to be cowed down by their comfort. They constantly call for and threaten war. Sometimes they dress for the occasion too; only too often, you will find news anchors dressed in combat fatigues, especially when things are a bit tense with our pesky neighbours. Such heroic, swashbuckling men — let’s not tell them the only people wearing combat fatigues when not in the army are teenage girls...
4. Be a spectacle. As a culture, we like spectacles. We like things to be larger than life. We are not that interested in the story if the spectacle can hold our attention. Confuse and visually distract your viewer — twenty people speaking in twenty little windows on your TV screen. All at once. Animated thumbnails jousting for attention. Add screaming graphics and hashtags... Place your viewer on a relentless roller coaster of breathless nonsense. The credulous will lap it up, the discerning will lay it on thick with snark on Twitter. But you have had the last laugh — you have managed to keep both watching and totally distracted.
Extracted from Chapter 11 of the book published by Penguin Random House.
