It’s Possible, Probable, Almost Certain the Sky Will Fall Tomorrow
The story of Chicken Little is familiar. Hit on the head by an acorn, Chicken Little starts off to tell the king the sky is falling. On the way she is joined by a rooster, a duck, a goose, and a turkey. When your neighbor tells you the sky is falling and is off to tell the king, you pay attention, go along for the ride to see what happens. Before click bait, there was cluck bait.
Fear and its close relative, anxiety, are among the more compelling emotions. We pay attention when told bad things might happen.
In an economy and political environment where grabbing attention is the road to fame, success and riches it is not surprising that many of the messages lobbed in our direction are wrapped in packaging designed to arouse our anxiety. Make us want to see more, read more, find out how bad it is, and is there hope.
This is not the blatant fear peddled by some: fear of immigrants, fear of LGBTQ+ individuals, fear of schools and books and teachers. Or the conflict stoked by the more partisan media.
But a more subtle click bait, pervasive throughout the media, that contributes to a general malaise. A feeling that nothing is going well. Headlines are dark. Positive news is accompanied by speculation about the bad that might come. Potential disaster lurks.
Among the headlines and lead sentences in recent stories and columns from the New York Times and the Washington Post were these:
“Will Democrats Soon be Locked Out of Power?” “‘It’s Time to Head for the Lifeboats’: Democratic Fatalism Intensifies” “A Biden Blood Bath?” “All signs portend a historic Democratic wipeout in the midterms”
Bad stuff might also happen two years from now: “We May Be on Track for a Recession Just as the 2024 Campaign Kicks Off”.
The trajectory of the coverage of the recent election in France is familiar. It could be really bad. It turned out ok. Problems loom in the future.
Four days before the election there was this headline and lead. “U.S. Braces for Potential French Election Shockwave … U.S. officials are anxiously watching the French presidential election, aware that the outcome of the vote on Sunday could scramble President Biden’s relations with Europe and reveal dangerous fissures in Western democracy.”
The lead on the election day story was matter of fact. “Emmanuel Macron won a second term as president of France”.
Over the next several days, the headlines went back to contemplating the prospect of potential disaster. “Convincing Victory Disguises Steep Challenges for Macron”; “The Unsettling Warning in France’s Election”.
How a story is presented makes a difference. As readers and watchers, we are not experts. We gravitate to media that we trust. Because we trust, we believe. For the most part we don’t encounter information that presents a different story.
It is the story, not the facts, that is important. Facts don’t have meaning until they are gathered into a story. The story gives meaning, molds perception and changes attitudes. The intent of the story teller might be to inform, to persuade, to manipulate, to mislead, but regardless of the motive the story is a joint venture between the author and the facts.
The government report on how the US economy did in the first quarter of this year was a fact. The stories on the report in the Washington Post and the New York Times were quite different.
The Washington Post framed the story this way. “Economy shrinks 1.4% in first 3 months of year, raising recession fear. The pullback is a stark reversal from massive growth in 2021 … The new data is fueling concerns about a recession in the future amid steady inflationary pressures and uncertainty over the war in Ukraine.”
There was no fear of recession in the Times. “The US Economy Shrank in First Quarter, but Underlying Measures Were Solid. The overall figure understates the recovery because inventories needed less rebuilding and consumer spending widened the trade deficit … demand showed solid growth ... consumer spending, the engine of the U.S. economy, grew 0.7 percent.”
Same facts. Different perspectives. Different understanding by the reader.
Events must in some way fit with the way the writer looks at the world for those events to have meaning for the writer. Writers have their own interests, perceptions of what is important and not important, interesting or not interesting, who the potential readers are and also their interests.
Writers choose what they want to write about and construct the stories that tell their story. There are many ways to understand the differences in stories that build off the same facts that fall short of manipulative or deceptive intent.
The more difficult problem in today’s media is the widespread use of fear and anxiety to get attention. Revenue is driven by clicks. Clicks are driven by stories the sky is falling, not stories of acorns following the law of gravity.
News stories and commentary are increasingly speculative. At times it is difficult to find what did happen, or what is happening. Recounting of the event itself is displaced by speculation about what it means for the future. What “might” “could” and “may” happen. The prognosis is seldom positive. The sky will probably, almost certainly, fall.
The same virus infects politics. Fear is used to drive votes and raise dollars. Campaign messages, and fundraising solicitations from candidates and interest groups, all assume the key to getting my vote and unlocking my checkbook is scaring me with how bad things will be should the “enemy” win. The sky will surely fall.
Candidates are told they need a devil to run against. A devil for contrast. A devil that scares. You have to go negative. With all sides concocting devils, it is not surprising that voters are increasingly likely to report they vote against the candidate they fear the most rather than for the candidate they like the most. Fear of the other is stoked. Divisions harden.
How do we reduce our anxiety in a world we are constantly told the sky is almost certain to fall? Acknowledge the acorns. They do fall. Recognize them for what they are and respond appropriately. And treat speculation for what it is. Just speculation. It need not trigger anxiety or motivate us to act out of fear. We will then see the world and our neighbors more clearly.
Douglas Kane is the author of "Our Politics: Reflections on Political Life" published in 2019 by Southern Illinois University Press
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