facebook regulation, anyone?

A few days after I blogged about how Facebook could be used to alert people and disseminate critical information during emergencies, I came across this story on the Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility site.

It seems that Mikey Arroyo, a congressman and the son of President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, wants Facebook regulated, after a story and photo about him allegedly buying liquor just a day after Ondoy slammed Metro Manila were posted on the popular social networking site.

I'm not familiar with FB's policies, but I'm sure that, like other sites, FB requires its members to read and agree with certain terms of usage. Whether these terms extend to regulate libelous, defamatory, or malicious content, I really don't know. One might argue that FB users are there not to malign public figures or even to overthrow the government, but to engage in meaningful discourse with friends and family. What the acceptable definitions of "meaningful" might be, would again be subject to some sort of consensus among its users. If users found meaning in posting photos and videos of Metro Manila floods caused by Ondoy's rains, then surely their contacts (fellow users) also found meaning in viewing them.

The more important point, I think, is that any regulation of FB or other social networking sites begs several questions, the first of which might be: "Who is to regulate it?" There are millions of Facebook users all over the world uploading thousands of posts in a day. Does anyone have the resources/manpower to censor each post, each user, each day?

I used the word "censor" just now, because in effect, that's what is being proposed here. To regulate a social networking site means to control who can post what, and when. Again, I'm unfamiliar with FB's policies, but I'm assuming that the onus is on FB users themselves. After all, they are no longer just consumers or passive receivers of information, but are thrust into the role of producers of information.

And with this comes the responsibility of being their own gatekeepers as well.

Click here to read the story on CMFR's site.

many small fish

Some very striking concepts and vivid images will remain with me now that the PJ1 workshop has ended.

One of these was the image of a small fish up against a huge, mean-looking fish (a shark?) -- one of the last slides in PECOJON International Coordinator Antonia Koop's presentation.

That is what peace journalists are. No longer part of the status quo, they swim against the tide. They are aware that how they report can contribute to the escalation -- or resolution -- of a conflict.

Many times, we have seen media practitioners making mountains out of molehills, or fanning the flames of conflict. It is unfortunate. But now we know that we don't have to sell conflict, pitt A against B, or report things from the same tired old box. Though we've been trained to recognize conflict as one of the things that make news newsworthy, we know that we don't have to highlight it in our reporting.

It won't happen overnight. But one day, maybe peace journalism will become the status quo. And many small fish together will have the power to change things.

+++



I had the opportunity of a brief but educational exchange with Antonia. What she said strongly echoed James Nachtwey's sentiments: It's all about the people most affected by conflict situations.

People caught in conflict situations are very much like small fish in the sea of humanity. Media practitioners often reinforce this. While journalists focus on the powerful, the top brass, the big players, and the celebrities, any reportage that examines ordinary people's lives is lost.

Bill Kovach and Tom Rosenstiel said journalism's first obligation is to the truth. Certainly, to tell the truth means more than just to meet the standards of veracity. I think that philosophically -- and maybe from a human interest perspective -- it means finding an ordinary person's truth and telling it.

So this is how we fulfill another of Kovach's and Rosenstiel's journalism standards: to give voice to the voiceless. When we point our cameras and our voice recorders or microphones to tell their stories, it is a glimmer of hope to them, a possibility that maybe -- just maybe -- they matter after all.

'evoking a sense of humanity'

Yesterday's sessions ended with War Photographer, a film documentary about photojournalist James Nachtwey. I found it to be an eye opener not just for Nachtwey's stunning photos, but more so for his insights about his work. Certainly, covering war is one of the most dangerous things one can do -- yet, Nachtwey seems to have succeeded in capturing heartbreakingly truthful images.

Through it all, he has kept a level head. "The people I photographed were much more important than myself," he said in the film. This explains his success in being "invisible" in his documentation of people living in difficult conditions. He is not a paparazzi but a sensitive storyteller. The photos are not eye candy but they must be seen. In the film, he says of his photography, "We must look at it. We're required to look at it. We're required to do something about it." A long pause, and he continues: "If we don't, who will?"

One might describe Nachtwey as an advocate of the power of photojournalism: "The strength of photography is its ability to evoke a sense of humanity," he said. "If used well, it can be a powerful antidote to war."

Fittingly, Nachtwey has won numerous awards. In this TED talk, he accepts his 2007 TED Prize:

when the word 'press' can kill

Today was the start of Peace and Conflict Journalism 1, a training workshop given by the Peace and Conflict Journalism Network (PECOJON) to media practitioners involved in reporting conflict situations. From today up to 10 March, I will try to blog daily about the workshop.

One of the things PECOJON International Coordinator Antonia Koop talked about briefly, by way of introducing tomorrow's sessions, was the changing media landscape. The above title, borrowed from the Al Jazeera documentary Shooting the Messenger, underscores the shift in attitudes toward the press -- and for that matter, toward their work: Previously, identifying oneself as a member of the press could get you a measure of protection, if not respect, for what you did. Today, it can get you killed -- in places like Gaza, for instances.

But we don't have to go very far to cite other examples. Right here, in the Philippines, three journalists have been killed since the start of 2009.

Antonia left us with these thoughts as the last session for the day ended: With such changes in public perception and treatment, how do journalists adapt?

when the media are the message: looking back on the manila pen siege

On November 29, 2007, those who report the news became the news.

At last year's standoff at the Manila Peninsula between Sen. Antonio Trillanes IV, Brig. Gen. Danilo Lim, and their men on the one hand, and government forces led by the Philippine National Police on the other, the media found themselves in the middle -- a sort of gray area where the reporter met the reported and became both victim and culprit.

For even as the reporters were teargassed and shot at along with the rebel soldiers after the PNP's 3pm deadline for leaving the hotel, they were among the more than 100 people arrested that day.

The Manila Peninsula incident not only raised many questions on the arrests and on the sometimes opposing sides the media and the government take, it also called attention to how journalists make judgment calls.

They were asked to leave the hotel by 3pm, but did not. A story was unfolding, and they had to be there to cover it.

What happened after the deadline is now known and has been the subject of many editorials, reports, debates, and perhaps most important of all, dialogue.

In a story by Newsbreak's Carmela Fonbuena last year, journalism professor and media ethics advocate Chay Hofileña pointed out that things could have been different:

[S]he expressed the belief that the media should have left the hotel as requested. She agreed that to leave an area of coverage was a reporter’s call, but she questioned the news judgment that was employed in this case. To her, the story did not merit extensive media coverage.

By the time the police requested the media to vacate the hotel shortly before the 3 p.m. deadline, Hofileña said that surely the reporters had already “enough” coverage for their stories. And because the incident occurred in a confined area, “chances of your reporters getting hurt are higher,” she added. “Is it worth putting your reporter’s life on the line? Was the story of such importance? My sense is it was not. There was no massing of people and there were only a few soldiers. It appeared that it wasn’t well organized. From the onset, as experienced journalists, you had an indication that it was doomed to fail.”

Of course it would have been a bigger story had Trillanes and his men succeeded. But the more important point here is the threat to the journalists' safety.

Fortunately -- and no thanks to the soldiers who later on sealed all exits and kept the reporters effectively trapped inside the hotel -- no one was hurt.

When the press conference turned into a war zone, the reporters didn't have to be there. But their being there didn't make them rebels. And it certainly didn't make them conspirators.

At the end of the day -- after the wet handkerchiefs, the smoke, and the handcuffs -- the media were there simply because they had a job to do.

How well they continue to do that job will rest on many things. One of these is how well they make judgment calls to secure their safety or to secure the story no matter what.

ap photographer moved by readers' response

He could have snapped the photo and then disappeared from their lives. But he didn't.

Associated Press photographer Jerome Delay is a seasoned journalist who has taken many photos of war and refugees.

On November 6, he shot 11-year-old Protegee and her niece, three-year-old Reponse, in the town of Kiwanja in eastern Congo.

The girls had been separated from their families in the war in Congo. Delay's photo showed Protegee carrying a sobbing Reponse on her back, while wiping tears from her eyes with her shirt.

According to Delay's own account, he was "particularly moved" by the hundreds of emails that had poured in after the photo was published.

Himself a father, he set out to find the two girls and help reunite them with their family.

Delay's actions would seem to be atypical of photojournalists and journalists in general. Not every journalist would have done what he did.

Which causes one to wonder: Did Delay violate any rule or code of conduct?

Should he have just maintained distance between himself and the girls?

Are his actions something that other media practitioners should emulate?

Aside from the obvious risks, reporting on conflict situations -- especially on wars -- presents many challenges. The reporter must know how to cover such situations in a sensitive manner, showing the human conditions (grief, rage, fear, poverty, and so on) while giving space and due respect to the people in them.

It's not easy being a journalist in Delay's position. Reporting on conflict in any form can harden anyone.

What Delay did -- and I'm sure there are others who have performed or are performing similar acts of kindness -- was his duty not only as a journalist, but as a human being.

Another point worth making is that Delay was pushed to do what he did because of the reactions of readers.

When the audience responds positively to a journalist and his/her work, it can be a very powerful force.

All this made for a happy ending for Protegee, Reponse, and their family.

Read more about Delay, Protegee, and Reponse here.

the trend towards entertainment news

An interesting story on the Newsbreak website by Aries Rufo, entitled "Changing media landscape sidelines labor stories" points to a growing trend: "less and less stories about work" and more and more stories on entertainment.

Quoting National Federation Italian Press President Roberto Natale, the story says that one of the causes is of this phenomenon is journalists and the owners of media organizations abdicating their "social role."

BBC's Steve Schifferes says the rise of the 24-hour news service also has something to do with it, as it lends itself to more "superficial" content.

The irony should not be lost on anyone. What Natale and Schifferes are saying here is that the culprits are 1) the gatekeepers themselves -- that is, those who determine what news is -- and 2) the media through which the news is transmitted.

Is this an international phenomenon? Even without hard figures, one would agree that there seems to be more showbiz news on local TV and print media than, say, even 5 years ago.

This might not necessarily mean that media organizations and practitioners are going soft. In the spirit of fairness, it would help to remember that the news industry does not exist in a vacuum. There is the audience, with its preferences for TV (and perhaps increasingly, the Internet) and for light news are a key factor here.

And then there is the availability of all sorts of information. What previously had to be dug up, researched, and reported by a resourceful and hardworking journalist can now be easily accessed online. With the gatekeeper function now in the hands of anyone with a computer and Internet connection, any information is now being passed off as news.

For now, it's hard to say where this is going, or what kind of news coverage we will have 5 years from now. It's a trend, after all.

Let's hope that's all it is -- a trend.

lessons learned

I haven't been following the Ces Drilon kidnapping as much as I would have wanted to. So when I came across this story on inquirer.net, I begin to wish I had.

Here is an excerpt:

(PNP Director General Avelino) Razon said that if there was any lesson from the kidnapping, it was also to properly exercise press freedom.

"Ang aral po dito laging sinasabi hindi natin puwedeng i-exercise press freedom na malalagay ang [The lesson here is we can't exercise press freedom by putting] reporters or journalists in harm's way, na hawak ng terrorista or criminal elements," said Razon.

Was caution thrown to the winds in this case? Was there a lapse in judgment? Was there a violation of trust, an unreliable source or contact?

As I said, I wasn't able to follow the case, so these are sincere questions, not mere rhetoric. My point is to learn from this, as any media analyst or observer -- armchair, virtual, or real -- would want to. After all, we all have the benefit of 20/20 hindsight.

What Razon said is simply another way of saying that no story is worth a reporter's life. Even if you're not a conflict or war reporter or correspondent, you would know this by heart or at least would have heard this enough.

But this begs the question: "journalist par excellance" or not, why, oh, why would anyone not a war reporter be sent into a war or conflict zone?

No story is worth a person's life.

"how was it?"

By now I'm sure everyone in the Philippine blogosphere has put in his/her two cents' worth about the kidnapping of ABS-CBN senior reporter Ces Oreña Drilon and her companions cameraman Jimmy Encarnacion and Professor Octavio Dinampo.

I must admit, I haven't been following it much so I don't feel I can really comment.

But yesterday, after seeing her press conference on TV, I felt like I just had to say something.

Drilon, Encarnacion, and Dinampo were held for more than a week by the Abu Sayyaf. When they were finally released, they had to endure a 5-hour hike in the hinterlands of Sulu to get to where "friendly forces" were waiting for them.

At the press conference, a tired-looking Drilon gamely and bravely answered questions.

And then one reporter asked: "How was it?"

"How was it?" Drilon repeated the question, leaning forward, eyes on the reporter.

Was that a deliberate pause? And was it me or did her voice -- and her eyebrows -- rise a bit higher than usual?

One can only imagine what the woman had just gone through -- the terror, the mental and emotional anguish, the dark uncertainty of having your fate in the hands of a group such as the Abu Sayyaf, not to mention the living, eating, and sleeping conditions.

And after all that, she gets asked: "How was it?"

In that slight nanosecond of a pause, I remembered the reporter who asked a child trapped in the rubble after an earthquake (or was it a landslide), "Anong nararamdaman mo ngayon (What are you feeling now)?"

Drilon could have come up with a dozen snappy answers (in the tradition of the MAD series "Al Jaffee's 'Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions'") for the reporter.

But to her eternal credit, Drilon remained silent. The reporter asked a follow-up question.

I forget what that question was, but it must have been a more appropriate question, as Drilon answered.

At the risk of getting some snappy answers myself, I ask:

Can't we have a little more empathy for the people we interview?

Aren't there more sensitive questions we can ask in such situations?

Aren't there more effective ways to get soundbites or quotes?

Aren't there better ways to get the story?

can the internet fill in the gaps?

I came across this talk by Alisa Miller on TED, entitled "Why we know less than ever about the world."

Miller, who heads Public Radio International, makes valid -- if not disturbing -- points about how the quality of news coverage in the US and on the Internet has dropped. So much so that today's young American knows more about Britney Spears and less about what's going on outside his country than his counterpart 20 years ago.

With much of international news dependent on coverage by US-owned networks, where does this leave the rest of us? Are non-Americans as much in the dark?

Can the Internet -- blogs and other alternative or indie news sites -- fill in the gaps in news coverage?

the princess and the paparazzi

The Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary defines paparazzo as "a freelance photographer who aggressively pursues celebrities for the purpose of taking candid photographs." The term came into use after the 1959 film La dolce vita, by Federico Fellini, featured such a photographer whose name was Paparazzo.

The paparazzi -- plural form of "paparazzo" -- feed on the public's insatiable appetite for delving into the private lives of movie and television stars, politicians, and in Europe, royalty. The lens of the paparazzi's cameras function much as the lens of the microscope does: examining, enlarging, and exposing details of these celebrities' lives in the name of sensationalism and tabloid journalism. And for a quick but hefty buck; photos of public figures and celebrities, especially "exclusive" ones, sell.

The truth is, photos can tell a story much more eloquently and dramatically than words can. They have greater impact, according to the rawness of emotion captured through the lens. The paparazzi know this. But their purpose is different. Impact, in the case of the paparazzi, is measured in the fleeting and secret moments in the lives of celebrities, snapped while hiding in the bushes after hours of waiting in the dark, or while chasing the subject down a busy street. It is in what they are able to capture, and when: exclusive photos of this politician dating that actress, the first photos of the pregnant princess, the last photos of the celebrity couple together. And it is in how human or ordinary the stars are seen in the photos: they dine, shop, marry, divorce, make mistakes -- and yes, suffer fatal accidents, as mere mortals do.

Because of their methods -- not to mention the resulting photos -- the paparazzi have had run-ins with the celebrities they cover. The most famous controversy involving the paparazzi was 10 years ago, after a vehicular accident killed Princess Diana, Dodi Al Fayed, and their driver, Henri Paul. With the inquest into their deaths having already started at London's High Court, the paparazzi and their practices are once again thrust into public scrutiny.

According to a news report on BBC yesterday, a paparazzo named Romuald Rat called one of the British papers from the site of the accident. He was offering exclusive photos of Princess Diana -- taken as she lay dying -- for GBP300,000 (roughly USD600,000). The inquest also repeated witness accounts of the paparazzi at the scene, taking photos of the princess just seconds after the crash, instead of helping her and the other passengers in the car.

There is something so glaringly wrong with the picture of the crash site painted by these accounts. After all, in real life, one could only hope that anyone arriving at the scene of an accident would call for help or otherwise provide assistance to the injured. The fact that the paparazzi did not -- according to the statements of witnesses -- and even sought to capitalize on the accident, as in the case of Mr. Rat, speaks volumes about the ethics (or lack thereof) of that profession.

The evidence raises important ethical questions. How far will the paparazzi -- and all media practitioners, for that matter -- go to get the story? Would they break rules of conduct, overstep boundaries of human decency? Would the job take precedence over morality? 

Were the paparazzi directly responsible for the car crash, and ultimately for the death of Princess Diana and her companions? Should they be held accountable for it? These questions may very well be not just for the paparazzi, but for the tabloid editors, publishers, and readers whose demand for such photos necessitated the supply.

faith in media

One night last week, I was chatting with my friend when he said, "Minsan iniisip ko... may naniniwala pa ba sa news? (Sometimes I think... does anyone still believe the news?)"

This intrigued me, so I asked him if it meant he doesn't read/watch/listen to the news anymore -- or if he knows anyone who doesn't.

He thought about it for a while, and said no.

But I knew what he meant -- and I knew he wasn't alone in his sentiment. It wasn't the news he doubted. It was those who report it.

various reactions, one thread
People's distrust for and disenchantment with media are rooted in many things. The feeling that traditional or mainstream media "just don't get it" is one. Sensationalized news is another. "Envelopmental" journalism and other corrupt media practices are yet another.

Filipinos' reactions to media are varied. We are enamored by media personalities -- thus those huge billboards with newscasters advertising the latest product or service -- or distrustful and wary of them. There are Filipinos who applaud journalists and media practitioners, and those who think that anyone with a press card is "dirty." Some have taken advantage of the media to gain mileage and influence. And others, regrettably, have gone as far as to silence members of the press to keep the truth from coming out.

In all these reactions, however, lies a common thread: the recognition that journalists and media practitioners function in the public sphere. Whatever information the media receive, whatever news they gather, is meant for the public. It goes out in the form of a news report or feature that is published or broadcast. The media act as our eyes and ears. They report to us a world that is beyond our immediate sphere of existence.

the need to know
The need to know what's going on in the world or even in our immediate circle is basic. We express this need whenever we greet one another by saying, "What's up?" or "Ano'ng balita?" -- roughly, "What's new?"

The mass media fulfill this need -- or are supposed to, at least. But if we are dissatisfied with the media, then we will increasingly turn to other sources of information and news. With the Internet, we can get news and information from more sources now than we had ever dreamed. And with mobile phones, we can get it much faster than we had ever imagined.

If my friend's sentiment is indicative of how majority of young Filipinos today regard the media, I wonder if faith can be restored. Maybe it's time to reexamine how the media do their job -- and even what job it is they're supposed to do. Otherwise, the mainstream media could lose their audience to the Internet and mobile technology.

news?

Over a million people watched this particular video on YouTube.



What a statement this reporter made. I can't quite imagine this happening on Philippine television, though.

the peace agenda

One of the topics I've been thinking of focusing on when I do my master's project is peace journalism, or the peace initiatives of Philippine media. Obviously, this is still very broad, but my interest in this stems from the idealistic notion that journalists can contribute to peace as they go about their work.

Ten years ago, the term "peace journalism" first came into use when Professor John Galtung of Peace Studies and Peace Research lectured at the Summer School at Taplow Court in the UK. Since then, the term has been used to both refer to and recognize approaches to reporting conflict that focus on peace initiatives, and ultimately, promote nonviolence.

This is not to say that peace journalism is new. I remember Carol Arguillas of MindaNews saying that she'd been practising journalism from a peace perspective for years without knowing that there was a name for it. Indeed, the term "peace journalism" can be applied to any journalist's efforts to report on war or conflict situations guided by conscience and from the desire to bring about change.

The history of wars and other conflicts played out throughout the world shows proof of the media's role in either perpetuating such conflicts or helping to end them. The truth is, we have gotten so used to the "conflict frame" -- "A versus B" or "us versus them," a two-dimensional, myopic approach that tends to pit a protagonist against a sometimes unwitting antagonist -- that we forget that there are other options, other angles, and other players. The coverage of the Subic rape case, for example, was done mostly from the frame of "Nicole" versus Daniel Smith, female versus male, or even the Philippines versus the US. Other media practitioners did well to go a step further, and reported on the impact of the Balikatan exercises in general, the Visiting Forces Agreement, and the history of crimes committed by US military personnel while here.

A conflict frame ends up justifying the conflict in the guise of rallying the public in support of the cause, and soon leads to divisiveness. This is what happened during the Vietnam War, when the media were initially manipulated for the purposes of propaganda. We see this locally as well, with the use of such terms as "Muslim rebels" or "Muslim extremists" by the media, reflecting a bias against those who are not of the dominant religion. Though perhaps done unconsciously, it is unfair and damaging. Why not "Catholic murderer" or "Protestant corrupt official" then?

Peace journalism provides a more holistic approach to the coverage of conflict, one that considers all sides without making judgments, focuses on the goals of the different parties, and allows for solutions. Where there is war or any sort of conflict or violence, there is the opportunity for journalists to report from such a perspective. Doing so sends a strong message to the audience and will go a long way in contributing to peace. But beyond the presence of war or conflict, peace journalism can be practised anytime -- as a conscious effort to prevent future conflict, no matter what the status quo.

the media's choices in the coverage of the virginia tech shooting

In times of crisis and tragedy, the challenge to media organizations remains the same: aside from adhering to the basic tenets of journalism, reporters and decision makers must exercise greater sensitivity and responsibility in their reportage.

The Virginia Tech shooting last Monday was certainly no exception.

But if in the past, the challenge would mostly revolve around getting a reporter or crew to the scene and transmitting footage as quickly as possible, the shooting presented challenges we would not have even had to consider in previous years.

unique challenges
For one, citizen journalism played a large part in how the shooting was reported. CNN's now familiar footage of the incident taken from a cellphone camera was courtesy of Virginia Tech undergrad Jamal Albarghouti. While a bit shaky and below broadcast quality, the footage put CNN's viewers on the scene. The message: Albarghouti was there. Not a single reporter or cameraman from a mainstream media organization was.

But there's more. On Wednesday, NBC received a package containing materials from the gunman, Virginia Tech student Cho Seung-Hui, portions of which they aired on NBC Nightly News. A video showed Cho ranting, while photos showed him in various "Rambo"-like poses, pointing a gun at the camera.

media response
Citizen journalism draws mixed reactions from professional journalists. Armed only with digital cameras and mobile phones, citizen journalists might find themselves in the same kind of danger more experienced ones might be more prepared for. Does this make them heroes? Without them, what would we know, see, or hear of the Virginia Tech shooting?

Albarghouti was the world's eyes and ears in those moments. He documented those moments as he perhaps thought a good citizen -- any citizen -- should do. And he turned in his footage online via CNN's I-Reports. It was his choice to make -- one for which he reportedly got paid, after CNN used his footage on the air.

The case is the same with the NBC footage. It was a choice. Though Steve Capus, president of NBC News, assures us that the decision to air photographs and parts of the video was "not taken lightly," is it one we will remember if a similar incident takes place in the future? Remember that Cho's model was Columbine. Besides being disturbing and graphic, could the images -- and the fact that they've been aired countless times -- turn Cho into a misunderstood underdog kind of hero in some way?

Sure, the airing of Cho's material might allow us some insight that may aid in identifying future gunmen, but would it help us prevent such carnage in the future? What are the effects on viewers -- on one hand, the families of the victims, the survivors; and on the other, children, extremists, the mentally and emotionally disturbed?

It may be a long shot, but NBC's airing of Cho's material can be compared to giving in to a hostage taker's demands. It is an attention-getting device, a call for attention. Nowhere among Cho's material can an apology be found; no mea culpa, no confession, no remorse. Instead we find reasons -- a man justifying his actions by hate, anger, and the need to act out his aggression. It is distressing and painful to watch.

we, the audience
All of this brings us back to the audience. What does this kind of coverage say about the audience? Are we starved for speed and scoops? Why did Albarghouti's footage sell? Would we make the same decision he made?

There are more questions, none of them easy: Is it all just part of the mad scramble for ratings? Do we really, truly want to watch the rantings of a killer and know why on God's earth he conceived of and carried out such an act? Do we really want to get inside the minds of such criminals? What kind of coverage do we really want?

In times of crisis and tragedy, what do the media think we, the audience, want? Judging by their response to the Virginia Tech shooting, it is clear: we all had to be there at that moment, and we all had to be the gunman too.