Is it right to watch James Foley's gruesome death online?
The horrific death of journalist James Foley, amplified by his murderers' ability to spread their act of terror via Internet video, touched off an immediate and familiar debate: Should governments and corporations ever restrict access to images of horror?
Firms like Twitter made their choice immediately and did all they could to scrub the video from the Web, with the support of many online users calling for an “#ISISMediaBlackOut.” Those who advocate for the most open version of the Internet cried "censorship." This debate has happened before, and clarity on the issue remains elusive. Recall the awful death of Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel Pearl back in 2002. That seems like yesterday, but the world is a very different place today. So is the spread of video around the planet. Erasing the Pearl video simply required taking a host of servers off-line, not erasing a million Tweets.
This reality leads to another, more fundamental, question: Should you watch the Foley video? Given that nothing is ever completely erased from the Internet, it's a question each of us must face, and consider on behalf of our children and others in our care. Those who chose to look or watch should know: there can be long-term consequences.
Rest assured, plenty of folks are looking for it. Even at 8 p.m. ET Thursday night, “James Foley video” was Google’s second auto-complete suggestion, right after James Foley beheading.
For me, the answer is simple. There is no reason to look at such images, to put those things in your head. Nothing good can come of it. For you, for his family, for the cause of humanity. The only folks who need to see that video are the ones whose job it is to hunt down the murderers. The rest of us should keep calm and carry on. The fact that this is even a discussion is another sad by-product of our digital age.
For the good of all of us, and to protect the masses of rubberneckers from their own curiosity, I have no problem with Twitter's actions. I respect Matthew Ingram's opinions at Gigaom, and the reflexive urge to oppose censorship, but there is no "right" to see a man beheaded. One of the most powerful decisions a journalist can make -- often among the most profound decisions in a journalist’s career -- is the decision not to publish something. It's perfectly constructive for human beings to exercise judgment, and to weigh the value of publishing something vs. letting something be.
Of course, nothing is so simple. Friends have argued, persuasively, that it's important to witness the cruelty of Mr. Foley's murderers. One told me she felt she owed it to Mr. Pearl to watch his death back when he died. Some fear looking away is a taking the easy way out. Most persuasive of all, I feel, is the proposition that we should do whatever Mr. Foley would have wanted. After all, he was there to make sure horrible things happening in the world didn't go by unnoticed. If I knew his wishes, I'd certainly be moved by them. The closest thing we have is a cousin's Tweet urging us not to watch or spread the video.
This coldly academic discussion happening on your screen right now was relatively abstract back in 2002. It's not academic any longer. If Mr. Pearl's video spread around the world in hours, Mr. Foley's spread in seconds. Before Twitter or the U.S. State Department could blink, thousands had already seen it. While it's now hard to find, it's far from impossible. So while policy makers debate the concept of censorship, in truth, we all need to decide if we should censor ourselves. We are our own photo editors. What should we do?
If it seems like a hard choice, it is. Judith Matloff is veteran foreign correspondent and contributing editor to the Columbia Journalism Review. She's also one of the world's leading experts on covering violence. When I talked to her about the Foley video problem, she was ambivalent. She saw the wisdom of removing the video from public consumption. On the other hand, she recalled a Palestinian journalist and student who watched the Daniel Pearl video and said it changed his entire world-view. She feared children who aren't emotionally equipped to handle it might find and watch the video ("Not that any of us are."). But she had watched the Foley video herself, because she felt it her duty as a professional.
“I really can see both arguments," she said. " I felt compelled to watch the images simply because it was important to what I teach and write about .... The Palestinian student is a journalist who works in the Middle East, so it's relevant to his work as well. But I don't think the general public would benefit from seeing it, and besides being a tool of terror and propaganda, the video could meet a pornographic fascination with the grotesque."
I've already told you how I feel, but now I want to tell you what Ms. Matloff knows: Looking at gruesome images can have unexpected long-term emotional impacts, such as post-traumatic stress disorder. Some research has shown that even photo editors, who stare at horrible pictures but sit safely in cubicles, suffer trauma equal that of photographers who took those pictures. She wrote a paper on the subject for the Columbia Journalism Review:
"The amygdala, an almond-shaped part of the brain that researchers believe is tied to memory, releases cascades of stress hormones such as adrenaline. Such hormones change the way the mind processes information during times of stress, lodging images like snapshots in the memory. This can contribute to post-traumatic stress disorder, when vivid recollections return well after the event, evoking the initial horror," the paper, published in November 2004, says. The study looked at the impact of violent images on journalists. Well, we're all journalists now.
Twitter's actions have limited the chances that someone might casually encounter a gruesome image of Mr. Foley's death while flicking through their timeline, and I see no convincing argument against that. To those who do, I offer this reminder from the world of business reporting: It should not be lost on anyone that even an act as provocative and barbaric as this murder is, in large part, about money. Kidnapping is about money. (The New York Times has done extensive, excellent reporting on this. European nations tend to pay, an average of $200,000 or so; the U.S. often won't). In fact, we now know ISIS made a random demand immediately before the murder. I'd like to suggest that consuming the media created by ISIS, falling for the trap of spreading the terror, also helps increase the value of such media productions. That's one reason you might not do it.
And for those who believe in publishing or sharing such images, claiming doing so has something to do with fighting censorship: I wonder how often the real intention is to sell newspapers, or clicks, or simply to acquire a little more fame. I find that despicable.
Finally, some folks can't seem to stop themselves from gawking at gruesome things, what Ms. Matloff calls violence "pornography." That's hateful and poisonous for your brain.
Choose wisely.