The Journalism They Teach Us vs. The Journalism We See

Nada Mostafa

Campus News Editor

About a month ago, my dad and I were watching a six-hour talk show on one of the local networks.

I don’t remember what the presenter was saying, but at some point he dropped his glasses on the floor. He wheeled his chair back, knelt down and felt around the ground for them. He picked them up, wheeled his chair back in front of his desk, took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and started cleaning them.

The whole ordeal lasted about five minutes. If that doesn’t seem like much to you, think about the length of the average YouTube video you watch.

I was shocked at the absolute disrespect for the audience’s time.

In The Caravan, if we don’t get to the point of our story in the first paragraph, Professor Firas Al-Atraqchi, the faculty advisor, would berate us about it. When I took too long pitching a story for an audio feature, Professor Kim Fox looked at me and asked, “Were you talking? I’m so bored.”

Their reasoning is that if you can’t keep your professor or editor interested long enough, then your reader surely won’t be either.

It’s surprising that in the age of social media, when everything is so fast-paced and outlets are  fiercely competing for your attention, that these six-hour talk show formats still survive.

Even when some media outlets try to ‘keep up with the times’ they often manage to fail in spectacular fashion.

After last week’s Ramses Station train tragedy, graphic photos of the injured and dead went viral. It wasn’t just citizen journalists who were sharing these photos, but well-known, respected outlets as well.

I flashback to the Media Ethics course and remember Professor Tara Al Kadi telling us that in some instances the ends might justify the means.

What possible ‘end’ could any outlet get from sharing these photos which could justify the pain and agony they would ultinately cause?

Granted the ethics of sharing the photos are a lot more nuanced than that. However, the ethics weren’t as nuanced two days letter when a ‘new Minister of Transportation was appointed.’

In an effort to highlight the absurdity in the reporting by some outlets, a social media user said that his late father was to become the new Minister of Transportation after the resignation of Hisham Erakat.

The hoax spread like wildfire. It was copied to tens of other social media pages but what was even more baffling was that it was covered on several reputable, well-known outlets.

It would have taken just a two-minute phone call to anyone in the ministry to dispel that rumor.

Anyone in the ministry could have told you that they had never heard of that person before. Or checked to see that he was actually … deceased.

Again, I imagine the kind of public humiliation Professor Firas would bring on us for the laziness of that reporting.

In an attempt to be quick, media outlets today have let go of the only thing that differentiates journalism from all the other kinds of pseudo-journalism we see on social media: their values.

I realize that my criticism of this behavior stems, at least to some degree, from the naivete of being a student. I still have the luxury of the ‘ideal’.

But we’re not ideal.

If we cut corners on assignments or cheat now, why would we presume that we’d never be lazy or accept a bribe later on in life when the stakes are much higher than just a letter grade, and the stress so much worse?

With my imminent graduation in May, I begin to step into the busy media field where my mistakes won’t just be subject to Professor Firas’s harsh criticism, but would be subject to the world’s. I only hope to hold on to my naivete and ‘ideals’ for as long as I can.