Category Archives: Reviews

Making Sense of it All

Too often political reporters are reluctant to use the kind of everyday language we might apply to people who have lost touch with reality.

American journalists covering this political campaign are facing the challenge of reporting on one of the candidates who repeats fictions that are sometimes so ludicrous that they probably should be reported as the ravings of a man who has lost touch. The problem is that strait journalism in the legacy press—sources ranging from CNN to the Associated Press—tends to grant rough equivalency between candidates running for office.  Does it violate journalistic rules to call out the one who no longer lives in the reality-based world?

Too often these days candidate Donald Trump does not feel tethered to even an approximation of the truth in the observations and accusations that show up in a typical stump speech. For example, he recently noted that his crowd size was up to 30 times larger than his competitor’s rallies. That implies numbers larger than would fit in a stadium for the Superbowl. In addition, he has asserted that the Harris campaign is using A.I. to make her crowds look bigger. As we all know, the former reality show star puts a lot of stock in audience sizes. Other recent fictions include the statement that thousands outside a half-empty hall were still trying to get in (not so, according to the Associated Press), or that he has spoken to the biggest audiences in American history, including those that crowded the national mall to hear Martin Luther King in 1963.

Trump is a fantasist. The lies stack up like so much cord wood at a lumber mill. But except for a few set pieces with the latest lists of “bizarre claims” most of his muddled thinking gets lost in routine synoptic coverage.

A Bias Toward Coherence

The problem here is an old one for those assigned to describe various sides of a dispute. As The Atlantic’s editor Jeffrey Goldberg has described it, journalism has a “bias toward coherence,” where reported events are cleaned up in the retelling. He recently noted that we get “careful circumlocutions instead of stunned headlines” that might better account for all the fantasies that get passed on as fact.

Trump escapes the full effects of fully revealing journalism by being protected by two norms of journalism: a bias for equivalency, and a second and natural norm to frame most events as stories, which curbs the impulse to let the actual incoherence of an event remain. This is partly Goldberg’s point.

The first norm of equivalency assumes two matched sides to a campaign or—for that matter—almost any event. Each side is presented in a seemingly neutral form to preserve the appearance of objectivity and neutrality. If one driver goes over the speed limit by 10 miles per hour, and a second has exceeded it by 70, both can be described as scofflaws. Recently a Vice Presidential candidate misspoke by describing carrying a gun in combat, which he later noted was not accurate. He carried guns in his military service that spanned more than two decades. But he did not see combat. So maybe it seems to even out the coverage at any point in time if the GOP campaign fudges the numbers on actual audience sizes. This is norm keeps audiences placated, but it is intellectually dishonest.

The second norm is to reorganize events into a story format with a framework of actors, action, purpose, and scenes. Campaigns are normalized by filling in the blanks to make each story a complete account of another day. Never mind that the contradictions represent incoherent acts. Few editors want to pass that incoherence on to their readers or viewers. You have maybe experienced the sensation of attending an ordinary event like a city council meeting– a meeting that was bewildering and aimless–that has since been transformed by the local press that into a more conventional narrative discussions followed by action.  Our instinct is almost always to make sense of it all, not to let the nonsense show through.

These are basic themes are played out in more detail in what is sometimes called “media frame analysis.”  But what it often reveals is that a person unfit to run for the highest office in the country is protected—as CNN demonstrably in 2016 —from an uglier and non-sensical process.

This problem of constrained journalistic norms is doubled by the fact that reporters are reluctant to use everyday language we routinely apply to people who seem less grounded in reality. Columnists may talk about the “delusional” and even “pathological” candidate. Goldberg uses the term “bonkers” to describe Trump’s ideas: an everyday term that hits the mark, but still sounds odd coming from a journalist. In fact, most reporters are reluctant to use terms that suggest the abnormal responses of a person barely able to adapt to their world.

 

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Moving Through The World With the Shades Down

We now expect that Hollywood will feed us all the environmental thrills we want. But the real thing requires only a small effort from us.

Anyone like me who flies infrequently will be surprised to experience the new normal on most flights where travelers sit for hours with the window shades pulled down. Airplane makers need not have bothered to pull off the complex engineering to create safe viewing locations within a plane. People seem to prefer to sit in the near-dark with 100 other strangers. Leaving a very sunny Denver the other day, it might as well have been in the evening. Only the weird blue lighting in the cabin cast a dim glow. Everyone around and in front of me were on tablets or phones: mesmerized by their small electronic tethers. I only had an old book to pass the time, confident that it was already in airplane mode.

Here’s the thing: passing over a large stretch of the United States on a clear day can be a fine experience. We don’t need a geographer onboard to marvel at the passing views of towns, rivers, mountains and forests that stretch into the distance. Even prairie farmland that can be monotonous on the ground reveals striking features at 38,000 feet. Small towns that are marked but rarely delineated on maps take on rich detail from the air. If we would only look, there is much to see from a perspective granted by impressive height:  traditional commercial centers, quiet streets and homes that were probably laid out in neat grids in the 1800s, sometimes unexpected sprawl, and even some dead zones from extractive industries that are normally hidden from view.

No one should believe that a nation can be known just by a panoramic view of its geography. But our problem is the reverse; the minutia of individual lives can make us overlook the imprints of our collective presence on the landscape. Pilot Mark Vanhoenacker’s meditation on amazing views from the cockpit (Skyfaring, 2015) is a reminder that even the clouds that show up in the lower atmosphere offer their own unique canyons and high passes.

Today we tend to expect that Hollywood will feed us environmental thrills. But the experience of taking in the real thing requires only a small effort from us. A tour through clouds let us experience the fantasy of being our own vanishing acts. Clouds are mixtures of water vaper that can appear to have both mass and or sudden transparency. It is a new experience to view them at eye level.

One memorable flight for me years ago was a routine trip from the east coast to the upper Midwest. In most respects the trip was normal, but somewhere over Cleveland an amazing drama of atmospheric beauty began to unfold. The lower altitude of the flight required the pilot to thread his way between thunderheads that show up in that part of the world in the summer. They were enormous, towering thousands of feet above our tiny speck of a plane that made its way between them. Bellowing up against the blue sky on one side but black in their own shadows, these where Cleveland’s impressive answer to Monument Valley in the southwest. As we passed near their late afternoon shadows we could see under us faint flashes of light glowing in the darkest corners. The effect was of a fireworks show seen through a shroud, as if Thor had decided to toss off some reminders of our own fragility. It was an experience I would not have wanted to miss.

Sadly, the synthetic experience of a small screen with the resolution of 60s television set seems to be our preoccupation. Nothing is too inconsequential to hold our interest. The living landscape in real space requires a bit more curiosity, a little more willingness to take in the vastness of the earth and its atmosphere. That’s a  first step to reach the awe that Vanhoenaker recorded in his book. If they were around today, those engineers who had to figure out ways to make airliner windows that would not blow out of a pressurized cabin might have wondered why they bothered. They might also wonder when we lost our interest in being astonished by the real.