On the News: Are We Informing Ourselves to Death?

When did the phrase “knowledge is power” become “knowledge is agony?”

By Nina Raemont

I wonder what Thomas Jefferson visualized when he wrote that a well-informed electorate was a prerequisite for democracy. Did he picture a 24/7 news cycle, sensationalized articles written to accrue ad revenue, presidential press releases that spew false information to the masses, or newsletters that deliver the anxieties of the day to your inbox? It is difficult to believe that this is what the ideal state of news looks like. With every coming day, our anxieties heighten at the prospect of new information regarding COVID-19, or climate change, or an economic depression. The state of the world, at times, feels like it’s screaming at us, but after a while, listening to the newest and cruelest developments depletes the dwindling energy we have to care. When did the phrase “knowledge is power” become “knowledge is agony?” 

News, a double-edged sword in the face of tragedy, can either console or control us. Our brains take note of information that scares us due to the concept of “negativity bias,” making information more explicit to the media consumer in times of crisis. This may explain why information during calamities feels psychologically heightened. In grave situations, we look to our friends and the media for hope and reassurance, but that becomes a difficult feat when every follower on social media and every news outlet from The New York Times to The Washington Post is letting you know: The coronavirus is worse than you thought! You won’t see the sun until September! Run for the hills! 

This information is an indispensable tool for the public, and to criticize the information in and of itself is not my intention. Our world would not be where it is today without the journalists who have searched for the truth and provided it to the public. My only concern is the rate at which this information is produced and expelled, and the reactions publicized by readers afterwards. It is one thing to intentionally flip through the newspaper pages and read the stories of the day. It is another to be smacked in the face with information about the latest tragedy every time you open Twitter or log into your email inbox. Our current age of news feels like that scene in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” when, despite the hiding of Harry’s letters from Hogwarts, they flew in from the chimney, broke the windows, and surrounded the Dursleys as they did anything to avoid them. Like the Dursleys, we no longer have control over what enters our households, or in this case, our minds. We have entered an age of news characterized by inconspicuous consumption. 

For the majority, the exponential increase in news production has made it quite difficult to silence the noise. Unlike thirty years ago, when people ritualized their news consumption by reading the paper over coffee in the morning, or listening to the nightly news on their local TV station, information seekers find the news of today through hashtags on social media sites or incessant notifications from news apps. Readers now face what the  Columbia Journalism Review refers to as “news fatigue.” News fatigue, characterized as “information overload and unsatisfying news experiences,” causes a similar psychological response as learned helplessness, where the subject lacks a feeling of control over their consumption, causing them to spiral into a sequence of complacency. What’s more, this increase in information doesn’t make for a more informed electorate. The CJR cites that, “the American public is no better informed now than it has been during less information-rich times.” Evidently, this system of information spreading reaps little benefit for the general public. 

Now, take this information overload and pair it with the reactions of your friends and family on social media. The news tells you what to think about, but your peers’ responses to the news enables you to gather their thoughts and feelings and internalize them as your own. Recently, the coronavirus has infected my Twitter feed and the only known casualty is my tolerance for melodramatic Twitter users. When the university announced its closure and urged students to stay home to take online classes, my social media feeds blew up with reactions from peers. It was no longer updates from officials, but rather, everyone I know telling me what I should be feeling, how I should be confronting this circumstance, and why I should be as equally full of rage as they are. Saying I felt mentally drained during those moments of cataclysmic social response would be an understatement. Constant absorption of the anxieties of those around you, virtually or physically, causes a contagion of stress and lack of control. 

So what do we do? Do we grow apathetic to shield ourselves from the pain that  information overload causes, or consume ourselves with the distresses of the day? To alter this news-induced stress and fatigue, we must move towards conspicuous consumption. In Michael Luo’s “New Yorker” article, “The Urgent Quest for Slower, Better News,” he recommends re-ritualizing the news, making it a part of your routine, instead of an unintentional happenstance. This type of media attitude allows you to have a designated time and place where you choose to read stories and inform yourself without distraction. He also supports print newspapers, saying that they allow you to diversify your understanding of the news and not become enthralled in a singular crisis. A large problem with following and viewing different news outlets on news conglomeration apps—Twitter or the News app—is the fact that each outlet will have its own version of breaking news. As soon as your feed is refreshed, multiple angles on one story appear before your anxious eyes, and the only thing you can do is click to get more information, and worry ensues. There are many ways we can enhance our news consumption, but we must begin with being aware of our habits, and altering them, if needed, to keep our stress levels low when we are already preoccupied with the state of the world. 

I would also recommend muting the information noise by disabling notifications for apps that provide you with information on an hourly basis, or decreasing your daily tech usage. This urgency for information has forced us to believe that every update needs to be consumed immediately, and for some pieces of breaking news, this is correct. But knowing the exact number of COVID-19 deaths per hour is not what I would deem a soothing piece of information. Take time for yourself throughout the day to do things that bring you to a place of mental clarity and avoid the headlines,  like reading a book, sipping on a hot mug of coffee, tidying up your space, or spending time outside the confines of your screens. 

There is a fine line between keeping yourself informed and growing paranoid from the information that weighs heavy on your mind. In the midst of a pandemic, we must rely on news outlets to provide us with essential information, but be cognizant of its effects on our mental health. We aren’t gluttonous news consumers, so shoving as much information into our brains as humanly possible doesn’t make for more informed choices. And after all, the best way to eat a news elephant is always one bite at a time.