An insider’s perspective on how news channels work
The ISPR press release on Wednesday landed in channel newsrooms like a bombshell and the shrapnel was plastered on TV screens for the world to see. Was the hype unnecessary? Did the media jump the gun by shouting fire in a crowded theatre? And perhaps more significantly, did it have a choice?
To find an answer, we need to delve deeper into the workings of the media and what makes it tick.
In many ways, the media – and specifically television – is locked in an internal struggle between journalistic responsibility and commercial requirements. The intense, and often brutal, competition among channels for ratings is driving content. Journalism and commercialisation do not always need to be in conflict with each other, and there are ways to make them coexist harmoniously. In Pakistan, however, the electronic media has been unable so far to find a happy balance.
Here’s why: the burgeoning demand for content among the viewers has forced channels to pump in human and capital resources in news gathering and opinion programming. Money can buy high-tech equipment, but it cannot produce a trained workforce overnight. Over the years, the bigger channels have invested in training programmes, but it is extremely difficult to train journalists when they are also stuck in a 24/7 news cycle. So what we have is world class equipment and technology in the hands of those who by no standards have world class journalistic expertise.
The result is a compromise. Let’s use the technology to dazzle the viewer. First, fast and furious, with slick graphics, dramatic music and often hysterical reporters and anchors. In the race for maximum eyeballs, (almost) everything is kosher. Consequently, a strange dichotomy in logic and rhetoric emerges: what media says to the viewer is often in variance with what it says to itself in internal meetings.
In public debates, it is the social responsibility of the media which comes out as the highest professional requirement of the industry. Media, it is often argued, is the fourth pillar of the state and in this capacity has a huge responsibility in reforming society. Increasingly, the media is seen as a ‘player’ and not as an observer, which is its traditional role. It is not a bystander silently recording events for posterity, but a willing and eager participant in the shaping of these events. In a way, the growing power and influence of the media in Pakistan also signifies a society in constant dialogue and debate with itself. The cacophony of voices, screaming, shouting, accusing, complaining, berating and browbeating, all these are signs of a positive flux in society; a desire to hear and be heard. By providing such a platform, the media has enabled all those who were always talked down to by the ruling class, to talk back.
All this sounds very noble. But is it?
High ideals about social reform are all well and good but down in the media trenches they are far from the minds of those who are running the media machine. They are all locked into a system whose bottomline is the traditional bottomline: revenues. Whenever a situation pits revenue-generation against ethical journalism, the former wins. This message has resonated loud and clear in all media organisations. And the message is: sell content regardless of what it is. Shock, grief, joy, misery, scandal – sell it all and sell it hard.
This classic conflict is essentially between the journalist and the marketing executive. The journalist eyes the story, the marketeer eyes the revenue; the journalist looks for social impact, the marketeer at the financial and commercial impact; the journalist has a responsibility to society, the marketeer to his boss’s balance sheet. In newsrooms across the world, such a conflict plays out on a regular basis. In more mature news organisations, the top management always tries to find a balance, knowing well that selling content is not the same as selling soap.
But like all nascent industries, the media in Pakistan is also happy to find the shortest route to commercial success. With proprietors exerting undue editorial weight, news organisations in Pakistan are often groaning under agenda-driven pressure, forced to set priorities to tailor to non-professional demands and requirements. The newfound influence of the owners and managers makes it hard for them to resist becoming a player instead of being an honest observer. And players take sides.
Is this the death of conventional journalism in Pakistan? Death only comes after a life lived. TV news media has not lived this conventional life, and has leapfrogged to a stage which channels in the West got to after decades of evolution during which their institutional systems and their managements matured enough to maintain the noble standards of their profession while keeping a watchful eye on their balance sheet.
One manifestation of such journalistic deficiencies is the tendency in Pakistani channels to follow the market leader. There is a reason why almost all channels have increasingly begun to resemble each other in content and presentation. The logic is: if it works for the market leader, it will work for us. From news bulletins to “one plus three” talk shows, to tickers and breaking news graphics, and even to animated political song sequences, the tyranny of conformity is on full display. No one wants to break away from the pack because no one wants the financial risk.
This has deep consequences. Conformity reinforces groupthink, which in turn is encouraged by top managers in a bid to minimise risk. The broad lesson filters down the ranks of the media organisation. Ever think why all reporters speak like each other? Ever think why most news anchors mimic each other? Ever wonder why most talk shows look similar? Now you know.
People at large tend to think of the media as a monolith, as a single large organisation which coordinates and cooperates with each other to produce a single common narrative. This could not be further from the truth. Locked in a fierce competition, there is hardly any coordination between channels. But the viewers cannot be blamed, because what they see is often a single narrative. The reason: conformism.
This year saw media conformism burnishing itself even deeper. The “big story” like the OBL raid, or Memogate hardly saw any exclusives being aired. A few snippets here and there added some spice but by and large the coverage remained bland. Opinions differed and hence talk shows retained audiences, but then opinions are easy, facts are not. Except for a handful of major channels which produced some original content, the other channels just added to the noise on the airwaves. But they are still making enough money to stay afloat, which remains a mystery.
Most original content which we see now falls outside the purview of conventional journalism: re-enacted crime stories, reality shows, political satire and celebrity-driven chat shops. This may not be a bad thing, but what it does show is that news and current affairs are gradually running out of creativity and originality.
A scary realisation given that the nation is preparing for a general election which will be the most televised one in Pakistan’s history.
The writer hosts a primetime talk show on ARY News. He has worked as Director News of Express News and Dunya News and Editor The News, Islamabad. He can be reached at fahd.husain1@gmail.com or on Twitter: @fahdhusain