Two weeks ago, a family’s life was tragically altered when two brothers, Dalin and Logan Torresan, aged 17 and 14, were killed in a car accident outside of Sherwood Park.
I saw an article about the accident only briefly, and was drawn to one picture of what appeared to be the father of the boys trying to get past police to the crash site. It was heartbreaking, and as the horror of the event sunk in, I felt overwhelmed with compassion for the man.
Days later, I saw a friend’s Facebook post, linking to a message on the brothers’ Facebook memorial page. It was a raw and moving statement by the boys’ mother, expressing her extreme disappointment at the printing and posting of the picture of her husband. She explained that the photographer was told by police and urged by the family to refrain from printing the picture, but these instructions were ignored by the paper, and the picture was made public.
Her sentiment exposed their violation of privacy by this public and sensational display of her husband’s trauma. As I read her thoughts, I wondered about how these things play out.
Where is the line drawn between the right for privacy and the right for the news to be shared? Media has editorial authority to choose its content and topic of news. So how much responsibility does the media hold for maintaining the dignity of the victim?
This picture wasn’t a TV crime pose. It ultimately was a snapshot of the most horrific moment a father could imagine, made available for public gawking and scrutiny. Free press is a foundational element to truth and validity, but where do ethics trump freedom? The mother termed this well, claiming in her Facebook statement that the newspaper “exploited their pain.” Excellent words, written from the authenticity of her despair.
While the news media is in its right to post (and subsequently refrain from removing) pictures of this nature, it does not have control over the judgment or use of those pictures in the public forum.
The general population, although mostly kind and rational, does contain people who will not react with empathy and understanding. Not everyone will stop long enough to feel compassion for the man’s loss. Some will tisk-tisk it with mild indifference, others will show it to their children to remind them of driving safely, and some will simply gawk at the sight. People will potentially judge, shrug or stare, and the collective response will never remove this man’s terror.
But news is not a medium of condolence but of information. Some people consider pictures such as this to be helpful, drawing the audience into the knowledge of the incident, accentuating the deep grief and tragedy by their visual impact. But is this necessary? Do we need to be shocked in order to be human?
Further, we as a community bear some responsibility in how we respond, despite the fact we have no choice in what is printed. We, as a society, must remember that the news is attached to real people, and we haven’t earned the right to give heartache such a casual glance.
Although we have little control over what we see in the pages of our papers, let us personally use self-control in reacting with compassion, with thoughtfulness and respect for our neighbor. We are strangers, but let us not be intruders.
And may Dalin’s and Logan’s family and friends be comforted in their grief.
Dee-Ann Schwanke is a masters student in international management.
