Monkey Business

July 23, 2013

During the summer weeks, "From the Director" will bring to you some of our favorite entries from previous years. Today's blog first appeared Aug. 24, 2012.

I hesitate to assert that my wife and I are hikers, but we certainly are avid walkers. Walking is a routine of our daily life; and it’s a highlight when we travel. Walking is the means by which we absorb the sights, sounds and smells of each locale, while faster modes of tourism pass us by.

One of my wife’s delights as we travel is to discover monkeys in the wild; so sometimes monkey sighting has been the goal of walks, for example, in Costa Rica and Panama. This has made us familiar with howler monkeys; and I’m sorry to say, it’s caused me to see parallels between howler monkeys and modern media.

The growls of the howler monkeys send messages through the treetops. One howler begins, and others forward the message for miles. I’ve been told by locals (I’m no expert) that the monkey culture doesn’t reward creativity and that there’s an expectation that the message at the end of the line is the same as it began.

Sort of like forwarding an email, photo or video; or sharing a posting on Facebook. Or like the wire services’ distribution of news through traditional media. It’s rare that anyone vets the information; and retractions or corrections are even rarer.

I read in Barbara Kingsolver’s novel The Lacuna that the most important thing about a story, and about a person, is what you don’t know, which gets to the heart of the weakness of much of modern media. Yes, because of the volume of information in today’s 24/7/365 “news” cycle with thousands of channels and the universal access to reporting news through social media, we’re likely to get most of the facts, eventually; but the salient and true facts are likely to be lost in the rush and the clutter.

Set at a time before television, Kingsolver’s protagonist in The Lacuna writes in 1946: “The newsmen leap on anything . . . The radio is the root of the evil, their rule is: No silence, ever. When anything happens, the commentator has to speak without a moment’s pause for gathering wisdom. Falsehood and inanity are preferable to silence. You can’t imagine the effect of this. The talkers are rising above the thinkers.”

However real that observation would have been then, it’s clear today that cable television, talk radio and the Internet have raised the talking-without-thinking effect to heights that would have been unimaginable in the 1940s.

Lockdown Logic

June 7, 2014

There recently were two fatal shootings within a single hour in the neighborhood of the MHSAA office; and for a couple hours, the killer evaded law enforcement authorities.

We locked the MHSAA’s doors and directed staff to remain in the office during the chase and capture. That evening on the local television news we learned the details of the day’s drama. And then sidebars to the main story developed, including criticism by parents who complained they were not alerted promptly enough when their children’s schools were locked down.

Several outraged parents complained that their school didn’t notify parents of the lockdown for a whole hour. Imagine that; that schools would worry first and foremost about students’ safety and only secondarily about notifying parents!

One local school administrator confided that before instant Internet communications, it was standard operating procedure to focus first on kids’ safety. Now, administrators worry about parents showing up at school and adding to the hazards.

There is almost intentional delay in notifying parents so they won’t be incited into rushing to school, risking their own safety and that of others, and complicating efforts of school personnel to protect children and of law enforcement personnel to pursue the bad guys.

Before the Internet age, hours could lapse before parents knew of unusual events near their children’s schools. Often the notice was put in writing and sent home with children at the end of the day. Now schools are criticized for even an hour’s delay, which might be just another of the growing list of unrealistic and unfair demands on our schools.