Earthquakes, news reports, and human nature

Ever since news of the Haiti earthquake broke out, I've heard quite a few people - friends, acquaintances, reblogs - grumble about how their local media seems to only care about the people of their country that were affected. Australian press talks about the 2 Brisbane-based aid workers who were injured and rescued; the American press talks about the Americans; and so on.

There are THOUSANDS of Haitians dead! they cry. But no one cares about them! Not the media! They often say it so smugly, as though the supposedly-amorphous "media" is beneath them and they're so much better for thinking about the Haitians.

They seem to forget, though, that this isn't a conspiracy on the part of the media - it's basic human nature.

One of the things that makes something news is relevancy. And something is relevant to us if it has something to do with our lives, our characters, our demographic. Since newspapers aren't often niche enough to cater to very specific needs, they choose items that are relevant based on broader categories - locations of their readership being one such factor.

Remember Dunbar's Number? The theory that our brain can only manage about 150 strong relationships at any one time? Same thing is happening here. Unless you're personally connected with Haiti in some way - Haitian friends, you've been there, you live very close to Haiti - Haiti is just an abstract concept. You could care about them as fellow human beings, have concern and empathy over their situation, but your brain can't really comprehend then as anything more than that.

The people that you care about, that are within your Dunbar circle of 150, are relevant to you in some way. Family, lovers, close friends, regular social circles, education, work; you interact with them enough that you know something about their life and they know something about yours. They're familiar. And one of the traits that makes someone more likely to be familiar is their location. You're more likely to be familiar with someone if they live close to you than if they live far away. (The Internet does make it very easy to make more friends online but foreign than with your neighbours, but they're "close" in spirit and contact, easy to reach.)

The mainstream media publishes all sorts of major disasters every day. Airplane crashes, earthquakes, landslides, tsunamis, terrorist attacks, what have you. People die in the hundreds and thousands. Infrastructure collapses. Bangladesh gets flooded so often that my parents aren't so fazed when they hear the news of another "disastrous" flood - compared to foreign friends who freak out on our behalf.

So much of this happens so often that it can be hard to process. If we deeply evaluated every disaster we wouldn't get out of the house out of gloom or fear. We can only deal with so much. So we take the things that are relevant, and put aside the rest. Aware that it exists, but unable or unwilling to do much more than that. Even donating money is an effort.

News reporters know this. They know that the only way to have people care is to put a face on the issue. Make it less about statistics and details, and more about the heart and spirit of the story. And one effective way to do this is to report on anyone local that may have been involved - whether as victim, lucky survivor, expert, assistance.

The local people they pick, like the Brisbane aid workers in Haiti, they could be your friends. Your siblings. Your colleagues. Your teachers. Your lovers. You could have met them on the bus, you could have sold them a cup of coffee, you could have asked them for directions. Heck, that person trapped in the earthquake could have been you.

When the Twin Towers first fell on September 11th, the only thing that got me to really realise the severity of the situation was a report on CNN on a bomb threat to the Petronas Twin Towers in KL. (It was a hoax, thankfully.) I was most concerned about my Channel [V] friends, especially Asha who was travelling on a plane that day; my family tracked down some family friends living in New York. Later on we learnt from the Savage Garden fanboards that Darren Hayes had narrowly missed being on one of the crashed planes; most of us freaked out.
When the tsunami hit on Boxing Day 2004 I spent the day trying to get in touch with my friends in Penang and Indonesia (they were all fine, though I didn't hear from one last person till the end of the night and got scared).
My sister and her now-husband called us from London on July 7th 2005 to tell us they were OK - just before we checked out the news to find out that the Tube and some double decker buses were bombed. The rest of the day i looked out for Asha's London-based sister (she was found safe) and sighed with relief when a close relative mentioned he'd just barely missed one of the bombed trains.

It's not that we don't care about all the other disasters in the world. It's just that we can only care so much. Sometimes it takes the involvement of someone or something close to us to make us aware of the situation, of the mess and the pain and the importance of reaching out. That's what the mainstream media is tapping into - writing up stories of people like us, people we may have known, people who could have been us.

It's part "this could have been you", part "they were one of us". It's only natural to look out for your kind. It doesn't make you racist or prejudicial - just human.

The mainstream media - both as a collective and within individual presses - have quite a few areas that need improvement and deserve scrutiny. Working by human nature isn't one of them - especially not by people who themselves wouldn't have thought about Haiti or any other disaster-prone area until their name showed up as a Twitter hashtag.