Your tragedy will be televised
And no one will care. Why the shrinking American attention span matters.
This weekend, I was glued to my TV.
Watching the one of the strongest hurricanes ever pummel first the Caribbean and then length of Florida.
I nervously stayed glued to my phone, waiting for a call, trying not to call. I checked social media and twiddled my thumbs as I watched waterlogged reporters try to stand against 130 mph winds.
At the bottom of the screen a mass of red, orange, yellow, green and white swirled away, creeping up the map, closer and closer to my family.
Preparations had been made. There was nothing left, but watch and wait.
I tried not to think about Harvey, all those images I had seen just two weeks before of millions of lives ripped apart by another monster hurricane. It seemed every news outlet had done the same.
I skimmed headlines ignoring, like many, the Myanmar ‘massacre’ and the Mexican earthquake death toll. We have a limited amount of worry.
But it’s different when it’s your family, when it’s yourself. It’s different when it’s your tragedy is on TV, in the headlines.
You see through drive-by journalism and empty political promises. You can’t stand the judgmental trolls making sport of people’s lives. You see through simplifications to the complicated truth.
And, if you’ve lived through it, you know that you’ll still be putting your life back together long after, years after the news cycle has moved on and social no longer cares. Few will even remember that event that changed your life.
At first, there is sympathy and benign interest, but that quickly fades.
Afterwards there’s deafening silence. Everyone tries to move on and forget.
As you might guess, I have experience in this department. A fatal train crash about two and half years ago. Unless you know me or someone effected, I doubt you even remember. You might have seen me on TV but I’m sure my face probably fades in with all those other victims of this or that.
It’s the way of things. It’s hard to care about every bit of news you see, it’s just not humanly possible. The news move on, then people do too.
But there’s a new pace of things. TV and the Internet has shrunk our attention spans. According to a 2015 study our attention span has dropped from 12 seconds in 2000 to just eight seconds. That’s shorter than a goldfish.
Social has shrunk it even further along with our bubble of information.
Watching Irma coverage, watching the safety and lives of my loved ones and millions of others made into spectacle sport, I remembered again the chaos of the moment. Cameras eyeing you down at the moment you’re the most vulnerable.
When talk of Harvey seemed utterly wiped out by the latest and greatest hurricane a mere week after we watched thousands saved from the waters, at least a 100,000 homes affected (most without the right insurance) and up to a million cars destroyed, I remembered the road to recovery that lasts long after the cameras and coverage were gone.
Think of it, just think about Harvey. If 60 deaths, millions affected and tens of billions of dollars in damage, in America can’t keep American’s attention longer than a week what possibly will?
When Harvey struck, as we watched the harrowing scenes, America came together. A nation seemingly divided agreed something had to be done.
News outlets covered it, emergency workers and volunteers rushed in to help, politicians and federal agencies were fast to act, the rest of us sent our sympathy if not our donations.
But then there was a new shiny object, a scarier storm affecting millions more. And most of us forgot about a city of 2.3 million, a region of more, before the flood waters even receded.
Of course, Irma needed to be covered but how many minutes of cable coverage, how many headlines about Harvey have you seen since Irma? We had time to talk about the iPhone and 9/11. But not Harvey.
That’s just the hurricanes, I’m not even mentioning the other stories in the background of our social and news feeds these past few weeks from California fires to DACA. Thousands of lives affected and barely noticed.
Like it or not, the moment that might change your life forever might just be televised, a headline someone skims or mocks or at takes a passing interest or politicizes or ignores.
Maybe it won’t make the national news, but that moment will most likely pop up on social feeds. Our lives are broadcast now in one way or the other.
Your tragedy — maybe it’s your disease or your loved ones death — will be on someone’s social feed mashed together with cute pictures and vacation photos and news and ads and sometimes just mundane nothingness.
We are overwhelmed with information like never before, but that doesn’t mean we have to lack empathy. Yes that is wishy-washy, hard to think or act on, but just knowing your tragedy will be broadcasted is a starting point.
I’ve been on a lot of different sides of this, from the journalist covering it to the victim, from the worried family member to the benign observer.
For those like journalists or emergency workers who deal with other’s tragedies daily, it’s easy to become calloused. Part of it is just survival, some of it is just having a clear head to do your job.
It seems that callousness is spreading as we’re overwhelmed by unpleasant news not only from media, but long forgotten acquaintances on social.
We cling to our beliefs, shut out information that is not need to know or deeper than a headline or sound bit. Some make social sport of others’ lives.
If we shut out others, it’s easy to stay divided, combative. But this goes beyond just empathy.
A shrinking, national attention span is a corrosive problem. The things that are important take time and focus, from policy to recovery.
A few takeaways, I’ve been churning over this week:
1. Recovery takes a long time
Right after Harvey, Congress passed and Trump signed a $15 billion hurricane relief package.
It feels like a check box has been checked, but it’s just a drop in the bucket for estimated costs for Harvey and Irma. AccuWeather predicts a $290 billion price tag for both, some predicted $300 billion for Irma alone.
FEMA was close to broke before Irma and the agency handles much more than hurricanes.
Most likely more federal funds will be needed to recover, but will politicians, journalists and the public have the attention span to make that happen?
We know it took years for New Orleans to recover from Katrina. Before Katrina, it had roughly one-quarter of the population of Houston, around two percent of Florida.
Yes, every tragedy is different. I’m not minimizing anyone’s experience.
Most of the millions affected by Harvey and Irma don’t have anything near the damage seen in NOLA, but even if a small percentage do … Already the predicted costs of these two hurricanes alone could be hundreds of billions dollars more than Katrina. (The cost of Katrina is in the $108 to $250 billion dollar range.)
That’s just the dollars, we’re not even talking about even the top lines of recovery like rebuilding or needed planning to help cut down on future hurricane costs. That could be global warming, or if you don’t believe in that, just infrastructure and city planning.
That’s just on the city level. On the personal level, it’s a whole other story.
I can’t talk to living through a hurricane, but I can talk to recovery, from being a public spectacle to the private battle back to normal.
After the train crash, there was the PTSD at first, a mind that just couldn’t stop seeing death and tragedy at every turn. Then there were all the medical appointments to get mentally and physically back to normal … Drugs and physical therapy. Minor eye surgery. All the while dealing with my insurance, expenses and endless paperwork. I’m minimizing for brevity.
I didn’t even have it all that bad. I didn’t lose a loved one, I didn’t have catastrophic injury, I didn’t lose my home or my livelihood.
It’s just a small example that once public interest in gone, the personal struggle just begins. The road back is long, detailed and complicated.
2. We need to expand our attention spans
I’m just focusing here on hurricanes and my own experience. Hurricanes, because it’s recent, blatant and bipartisan. My personal experience because I know and can talk to it.
But what I’m really talking about is much bigger. It’s all the stories we’ve forgotten. It the things that are important — not just to the world, an unknown someone, but to us, our own country, community and lives — that we can’t seem to focus on for more than a day or two.
It’s our collective amnesia that makes recovery — maybe to the life before the storm, maybe to that American dream we were sold — nearly impossible.
Yes, we disagree on the details, but we all share some basic beliefs. We want to take care and protect our loved ones, we want to be financially secure an much more. We want something beyond struggling to make ends meet, to be moving upwards instead of downwards. Although we struggle quantify or identify it, nevertheless understand and solve it, we all seem to know in our gut America used to be better.
Yes, there is quantitative proof the American dream is dying. What can solve it is agreement, policy, focus and time.
If we can’t focus more than a week on a discreet problem that affects millions papally like Harvey, what possible tools do we have to affect change on economic policy or health care that is more nebulous and contentious?
I don’t have answers, but I have questions and requests.
I’m asking politicians to give us more than spin. I’m asking for those we elected to deliver on their promises, to serve all their constituents and not just their base, to not just give us empty words but have our backs when we’re in need. Sure on just the hurricane front, you’ve supplied us with a band-aid for a gaping wound, but will be there for the real healing? Do you understand and even care about all the other ways we’re hurting? Can you stop changing the subject and focus on what matters and that includes the details?
I’m asking journalists to do more than drive-bys. Yes, the news cycle is faster than ever. Yes, your industry is under attack. But can you deliver us more than spectacle? Can you chase more than the story of the day? Can you hold those in power accountable not just for this news cycle, but the time it takes to actually affect change? Can you understand and be compassionate towards your subjects, your audience?
I’m asking for average people to not let others control their attention spans. Screw politicians, the media, companies … They may seem all powerful, but they are all accountable to you. They thrive off your dimes, your attention or lack there of. Be better, force them to be better. Don’t let any of them or the trolls of the Internet distract you from what is important to you, your family and those you care about. To make America better we have to work together.
3. People are not idiots or numbers
What continually irked me during the hurricane coverage, was all mighty journalists criticizing people for not evacuating all the while sending their correspondents into the danger to get battered by rain and wind.
During Irma, there was a tendency to just say everyone was to evacuate. It was actually just certain areas. There’s no way to evacuate an entire state of 20.6 million.
And it’s not a no-shit decision to evacuate even if it’s suggested. My family debated this, there was a question of the timing. Could you get off work in time? There’s a question of traffic. My aunt evacuated, an eight hour drive took 22 hours. There’s a question of gas. Everyone struggled to find open gas stations, there was no guarantee you’d find it on the road. Sure you could fill up extra gas tanks, but then you’re driving a bomb. And these are just top line questions for healthy people with access to transportation and money.
Houston was criticized for not evacuating everyone in the face of Harvey. What was lost in the coverage were two things. One, this was a thousand year storm is probability unlikely it would have the impact that it would. Two, there was a deadly evacuation in 2005 in the face of Rita. Before the storm even hit, 73 to 107 people died just trying to evacuate. With roads clogged with traffic as millions tried to escape and ran out of gas, people died in accidents and heat related deaths. The survivors returned to homes with little to no damage.
It’s easy to victim blame, to say you’re a freakin’ idiot for not evacuating. What we often fail to realize that these are calculated decisions. Few make them on a whim, although we like to group everyone affected into this small minority.
Once again, this is just an example.
Particularly since the election, we have been quick to call the other side idiots. We have a clear idea of what they should think and do (like evacuate) and often skim over their reasoning (it’s not simple).
Although we may not agree with their conclusions, be open to at least understanding how they got there. Usually, you’ll find more similarities then differences.
4. Be an f’in human
This brings us back to empathy. Just be freakin’ human. Other people’s lives aren’t just a novelty, a job or sport.
When you get calloused, it’s easy to forget.
Although most journalists I interacted with after the accident were sympathetic, one in particular was a total prick.
She wanted an interview and she wanted it now.
I said I’d get to her. That wasn’t good enough. She pressed me harder.
I said, I’d get to her. I said, you know it’s been a rough day.
She hmpffd and walked away. It seemed beyond her understanding, her basic human empathy to even concede that I may not be at the top of my game considering I was just in a fatal train crash. That this — not only facing my mortality but a swarm of reporters — was exhausting, confusing.
Working in the industry, I got that the journalists were being persistent as it was their job. But there’s sometimes a thin line between that and heartlessness.
One classic moment during Harvey, a woman rips into a CNN reporter. The reporter, actually seems pretty nice and sympathetic. But when people’s tragedies are televised they are often at their breaking point.
We, not only reporters or emergency workers, need to understand that.
As a journalist, I know it’s easy to separate yourself from a tragedy as you observe it behind a camera or a screen.
In an age when all our lives are broadcasts, when we all watch others lives unfold from behind the safety of our screens, it’s something to keep in mind.
And in case you were curious, my family is fine.
As our lives return to normal after the storms, hopefully we can keep in mind those who weren’t as lucky in these tragedies and the next.
