the fly on the wall

Reading Lillian Ross's book Reporting Back: Notes on Journalism, I came across a phrase I have not heard or read in a long time: "fly on the wall," a technique used in journalism.

Journalists were once thought of as flies on the wall -- that is, passive, impartial observers and documenters who report what they observe and see from the scene of a news event. Do such journalists still exist? Is this technique still effective?

Ross thinks that it is "craziness" to think of journalism in this way, and to teach would-be journalists to use this technique.

A reporter doing a story can't pretend to be invisible, let alone a fly; he or she is seen and heard and responded to by the people he or she is writing about; a reporter is always chemically involved in a story.

The job of the media has long ceased to be that of a mere fly on the wall. I don't know how journalism is taught in other schools, but our instructors never told us to be flies on the wall. They taught us to be active -- to engage both subject and audience, and to anticipate and ask the questions that our audience might ask.

In teaching us that reporting is all about being the public's eyes and ears, Dr. Eric Loo, head of the University of Wollongong Graduate School of Journalism, used the acronym ORACLE. A journalist's job, he says, is to observe, reflect and report, analyze, contextualize, learn, and enlighten.

I prefer the ORACLE framework of reporting, but I don't think Dr. Loo meant it to mean that journalists are supposed to know it all. There might be some "mysticism" to the fly on the wall technique, in a Zen sort of way -- and I have no doubt there are situations when it might be needed and it might actually work as well. But it seems to be a one-dimensional approach to a very complex job.

Observation is integral to a journalist's role, but it doesn't end there.

mariannet's story

When the news about the suicide of 12-year-old Mariannet Amper first broke out, it seemed to be an open-and-shut case. After all, she came from a poor family; that's why she took her own life. She lived with her parents and brother in a tiny house without electricity and water. Her parents took odd jobs: Magdalena earned Php50 (less than $1.25) a day working part-time in a factory and washed other people's clothes on the side, while Isabelo did construction work. So poor were they that other kids in their community in Davao reportedly would not even play with her and her brother.

If not for Mariannet's diary -- a class project -- and an unsent letter to the television program "Wish Ko Lang" (How I Wish), the world would probably never have known what life was like for this little girl. Her dreams were simple -- jobs for her parents and an education for herself. Yet, for want of transportation money, she was unable to go to school; nor did she have a bag and shoes to use. 

So on 2 November -- All Souls' Day -- Mariannet took some nylon rope and hanged herself. End of story. End of life.

Or so everyone thought. Yesterday, the newspapers reported that Mariannet had been raped. And this most likely contributed in a big way to her taking her own life. 

But suicide is never a simple case. Especially if it is committed by a 12-year-old, whose life at that age is really just beginning. After all the finger pointing, the preaching, and the hype Mariannet's suicide has generated, how will the media now report the case? Poverty is not uncommon  in this country. Nor is it something you can hide. You can see it wherever you go. What about the sexual molestation of young -- and poor -- girls, often by people they know and trust? It's not uncommon either. The only difference is that the latter is a more delicate issue. It speaks of a deeper malaise. No one wants to talk about it. 

Mariannet's story has become darker, more sinister, yet no less common -- that of innocence lost and hopes dashed. How many Mariannets are out there, still hoping for a better life? Will their stories even be told?

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.

rituals and remembrances

It's not even All Souls' Day yet, but already the police are on heightened security, maintaining a presence at bus terminals and at the bigger cemeteries in Metro Manila where crowds have descended and are expected to continue to do so. Meanwhile, the news on TV earlier showed cars at a standstill on the expressway as Filipinos head for the provinces to remember the dead. The fact that this is a long weekend, on the heels of last weekend -- last Monday was a holiday, and so are tomorrow and Friday -- contributes to the traffic situation greatly.

It is interesting how deeply rooted in our culture the ritual of remembering those who have gone before is. It has a Christian origin, as the Church encourages the faithful to pray for the departed, especially those who are in purgatory. In fact, commemorating All Souls' Day with prayers and special rituals, after All Saints' Day on November 1, was begun by monastic orders. And with Christians comprising more than 80% of our population, the whole country is on a national holiday to observe All Souls' Day.

But I would think that even before the introduction of Christianity into our culture, the early Filipinos were already practising some sort of remembrance, as Asians. Ancestor worship is important to the Buddhists and the Taoists, and with the strong Chinese undertones in Filipino culture, I would say that our rituals of remembrance leans more towards this practice.

I'm not sure about early or indigenous Filipino practices of remembering the dead, nor about the practices of other faiths in the country (the Islamic community, for one). Definitely, we Filipinos have made these rituals of the East and West our very own -- and then some. We flock to the cemeteries with not just candles and flowers, or incense and offerings, as is applicable -- but also with tents, playing cards, mah jong sets, and karaoke machines. Our version of All Souls' Day has turned out to be not just a day to remember and honor the departed, but more so, an occasion to celebrate being alive, in true Pinoy fashion. I have no doubt that those going out of town are making the most of the trip, by visiting relatives. Or maybe even stopping by the beach.

Those in Manila who are unable to visit their loved ones' tombs in the provinces will have their own little rituals, lighting candles at home and offering prayers for their souls. In all this, we see how much of a melting pot the Philippines is. As with many things, we have integrated two influences -- the Christian practice of the West of remembering our departed loved ones, and the older Asian practice of ancestor worship. This makes us part of a larger community, the rituals of which continue to find expression in our culture.

let there be light!

Speaking of being earth friendly, I came across an interesting cartoon about the incandescent light bulb. Well, I must admit, I never knew there was anything wrong with these light bulbs. But, as the cartoon says, it's so 19th century!

See for yourself:



With thanks to Mike Adams for the illumining idea, and to NewsTarget for the use of the cartoon.

earth-friendly elections

I think we Filipinos have a tendency to overdo things. It's the pandesal mentality at work, the principle behind it being saturation. Take our business establishments, for example. A few years ago, it was pearl shakes -- when the pearl shake business was doing well, there was a pearl shake stall every few hundred meters near residential areas. Nowadays, it's coffee. On almost every street corner in middle- to upper middle-class neighborhoods, you're sure to find a coffee shop. Where there's a call center or commercial area, there will be more than one.

The same principle is at work during election season, when candidates compete for our attention in every possible way. Not an inch of approved space is wasted in hanging posters, streamers, and banners. Campaign jingles blare over and over from loudspeakers. Flyers, pocket calendars, cardboard fans and visors are given away. On election day itself, the precinct grounds get littered with discarded sample ballots.

Besides the stress on our well being from the visual and aural pollution -- because even just the sight of clutter and the noise, of course, do add to one's stress levels -- there is the stress on the environment. If each candidate were to produce some 5,000 (a low estimate) each of their flyers, posters, streamers, pocket calendars, stickers, and other printed campaign materials, how many kilos of newsprint, matte, or sticker paper would it all add up to? How many trees? How many cans of ink? Multiply that by the number of candidates, and you'll get a good idea of how much paper is consumed in the process -- and consequently, how much waste ends up in our landfills.

But that's not all. That is just campaign material. Comelec spokesperson James Jimenez has this to say about the trash this election would generate on the side of the campaign workers alone:

There are 41,995 barangays all over the country. There will be 16 elective positions up for grabs, with each elective position attracting at least one candidate - most will be fought over by two or more. If each candidate - assuming each position will have two contenders (unlikely as some have as many as 5 or 6), and that each contender has 20 campaign workers (barangays have a minimum of 2 thousand inhabitants, and each candidate is allowed 1 campaign worker for every hundred) working for 9 days (campaign runs from the 19th to the 27th), and eating 3 squares out of one styro pack and one plastic bottle, by the 28th of October we will have 6,531,062,400 styro packs and 6,531,062,400 plastic water bottles to dispose of, all over the country. And that’s not even counting the candy wrappers and the plastic baggies (and drinking straws) used to sell soda in, and the torn up plastic packs of various junk food.

A different kind of campaign was launched by the EcoWaste Coalition before the May elections -- a campaign for waste-free elections. Undoubtedly, the May elections were dirtier -- I'm speaking in terms of waste here -- but it would be good to review the guidelines for the prevention and reduction of waste.

With climate change inevitable, we should start voting along the lines of which candidate has a sound platform for zero waste or otherwise earth-friendly policies.

Read Jimenez' post here. And read more about the EcoWaste Coalition's campaign for waste-free elections here.

pinoy, and proud

This is the winning entry in the Proudly Pinoy competition.

I had forgotten all about this until today. Reviewing the entries, it was interesting how the concepts of being Pinoy (Filipino) and of pride were translated as badges.

What makes a Filipino proud? What makes one proud to be a Filipino?

To all the participants, thank you for reminding us of our being Pinoy.

And to the organizers of the competition, thank you for the badge.

self, identity, existence

Everyone has a story to tell.

Maybe my college friend, poet Ralph Semino Galan, was right when he said -- with apologies to René Descartes -- "I write, therefore I am."

Now, millions of people find their own little nook in cyberspace to tell their stories, assert their identities, define their existence. Their mantra -- again, apologies to Descartes, and also now to Ralph -- "I blog, therefore I am."

Blogging is different things to different people: a liberating experience, an exercise in democracy, and for some, a ritual for healing and self-expression. But as all these -- by no means a definitive list, I'm sure -- does blogging define us? Has it become a measure of identity and existence?

I ask this each time I have the urge to blog. The precious minutes of downtime that can be used for rest or study, I blog away. Not necessarily here, as I have more than one blog, as many bloggers do. The point is that we have associated ourselves so much with our blogs and with the act (and art) of blogging that to some, it is utterly unthinkable not to blog.

Of course, we are bigger than our blogs, our blog topics, and even blogosphere in general. The snippets of life that we manage to capture and note down, recorded in cyberspace -- virtual air, a system of 1's and 0's -- are precious, fleeting, and almost ethereal. But that's all they are: snippets. Life is too big to be encapsulated in a blog. It is too simple to be rendered as code, and too complex to be confined to bytes.

Simply put, a blog may be proof of one's existence -- not unlike a composer being remembered for his music or a painter being known for her art. Seen in this way, we are not only what we blog -- we are when we blog. We are as good as our blogs, with blog stats as our yardstick. We measure our worth by the number of blogs and sites linked to us. Badges and widgets, we wear with pride.

What then, if we are unable to maintain our blogs? Abandoned blogs -- are they like the "old, abandoned shells" in Antoine de Saint-Exupery's The Little Prince? The prince said there's nothing sad about old, abandoned shells. Can the same be said for abandoned blogs?

What happens to a blog or a site when its owner passes away? Julia Campbell's blog and the MySpace and FaceBook sites of the Virginia Tech students killed last April -- these are indelible proof of lives now gone. They're all that's left of a measure of space-time once spent on this earth. And for us who never knew them, they're desperate ways of connecting, getting to know, and paying tribute.

All this is a long way of saying that this blog may end up like theirs -- abandoned, for a time, as I give up blogging. At least while I work on completing my Master's Project -- which, again, is just another piece of who I am, proof of a facet or phase of my life as MA student.

I may use this blog to take note of my research... but only if time will allow it.

Everyone has a story to tell. And I have a story to write.

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.