By Any Other Name

Pedestrian and auction-goer Mike Bodnar wonders how and why tabloid journalists label people in the media...

Source: Petty Images

I am writing this as an author. But at the same time I'm also a DIY enthusiast, and I'm keen on astronomy and all things space. I read mystery thrillers and spy novels. I am an old boat owner (in both senses) and I'm a whole lot more, but for the purposes of this article I'm simply a writer. That, however, would be of little interest to journalists from the Daily Mail, the Sun or the Daily Express. It's not exciting enough.

Tabloid journalists, you see, are more interested in providing extra and sometimes-tenuous contexts to those who feature in their stories so that readers will be drawn in, gasping to know more. A mini-survey I've conducted just over the past three days revealed (another word the media loves to use; Mike Bodnar can now reveal...) that a Celtic fan, a new mum, and a widowed pensioner all had something bad happen to them. And that's not even mentioning the other footy fan or the Durham student. But I have anyway.

The point is that in many, if not most, cases, the status of the subject featured in the story has little or nothing to do with the story itself. Take for example the headline, 'Celtic fan, 36, will stand trial over Captain Sir Tom Moore tweet.' 

The first thing you discover on reading the article is that the fact the man was a Celtic supporter has absolutely no relevance whatsoever to his having been charged with sending an abusive Tweet. Neither for that matter does the fact that he was 36 years old. If I were a Celtic fan I'd be fuming about the subtext of this, vis: Celtic fans are right bastards to old people, especially when in their mid-thirties.

This tendency to label people in media stories as something more than they are is presumably to increase the shock-horror and tut factors. Somehow we are likely to be more gobsmacked that a Celtic fan would dare insult the dearly departed Captain Tom than if we'd been told, 'Man on trial over abusive Tweet.' Man? Who cares? Celtic fan (36)? Tut!

Meanwhile, a 'mum' was ordered by a local council to take down a Christmas wreath from the front door of her council flat due to health and safety concerns. The story is laughable enough for its absurdity, yet the Sun newspaper (I use the term loosely) felt it necessary to add motherhood into the mix. The fact that her daughter is actually 19 has very little to do with the story, but of course we are supposed to feel increased sympathy for the (apparently) single parent. Since the headline wasn't, 'Wife told to pull down wreath' we can't tell. Maybe we should be furious she's not married. I shall write to the Pope.

That esteemed organ the Daily Mail was pleased to inform us that, 'Durham student, 21, loses court battle with aunt over mother's will.' I was so relieved that it wasn't a student from Glasgow, or Leicester. Phew. Also, so she's a student, do we care? Well yes, I guess we're supposed to have sympathy for all students due to the horrendous cost of education, but in fact the story reveals (there's that word again) that she needed the money to put a deposit on a house and to buy a polo pony. Well diddums. 

But in contrast to the Durham student (21), the Daily Mail also brings us the heart-warming news that  'Father-of-two, 44, finds £100,000 medieval brooch.' I always find archaeological discoveries fascinating, and in this case the brooch could be around 800 years old, unlike the finder who, as you know, is just 44.

More frustratingly though is that the dad's two kids don't even get a mention in the story, so it's hard to see what relevance there is in telling us they exist. The dad himself is an architectural technician, but maybe that was too wordy to fit in the headline; father-of-two is easier on the eye. 'Man' might have been even better.

'Man' also wouldn't do for the Mirror's story: ' 'Extremely popular' football fan, 46, dies after being unable to get Covid jab.' Although sad, the extremely popular man (46) would have died if he'd been a train spotter, a twitcher, or an orchid grower. Being a football fan doesn't make you any more susceptible to Covid, although there is the danger of close bodily contact with like-minded sweaty fans on the terraces, so maybe the Mirror was doing us a public service. 

Turns out Mr Popular was also 'quite outdoorsy' and was a keen martial arts exponent, but for some reason the Mirror hacks decided 'football fan' would be more of a headline drawcard. And seriously, there's something a bit tacky about telling us he's 46 when he's not any longer.

The Mail Online meanwhile informs us that a mechanic was beaten to a pulp outside a nightclub. Are we supposed to assume that if he'd been at work and had a hammer or wrench to hand he could have fended off his assailants? That his lack of proximity to his Snap-On toolbox put him at a disadvantage? 

Of course not; it was 2.30 in the morning. So what possible context can there be in his being a mechanic (24)? None, but the media hacks desperately need something to put in the headline, and an occupation or interest will do. 

Oh, and an age, of course, because we all want to know how old someone is, said the author (67) of Sunbury-on-Thames.

I'm not highlighting anything new; this sort of sloppy irrelevant so-called journalism has been around for years, as has the British tabloids' tendency to label criminals 'yobs,' 'thugs,' and 'louts.' The Court of the Tabloids is judge, jury and executioner in one.

It's just that I miss the days when reporting was balanced and neutral and we could all form our own opinions after reading an article, and go 'tut' or shake our heads and comment 'shocking' as required. Or indeed move on and form no opinion at all. But we live in an age of extremes and extremists. And terrorists. Britannica.com says that terrorism: '...seeks to create fear, not just within the direct victims but among a wide audience.'

That seems to me what the tabloids are doing with some of their stories: seeking to create or highlight fear. I'm in fear every time I read any news, and you may well blame me for doing so. 

Well, let me make it clear that I certainly don't read the tabloids, but sometimes their headlines pop up uninvited in my daily feeds on Flipboard and I can't help but notice them. But instead of letting myself be unsettled by stories of yobs and louts, I instead take some pleasure out of analysing the policies and thought processes of modern journalism and the media in general, and try to work out the rationale behind the different reporting styles. I haven't reached any firm conclusions yet, other than the media sector is so competitive that the papers, radio and television news programmes will grasp at anything to make a headline.

As I said at the start, I am at this moment a writer. When I go upstairs to prepare dinner I am a husband (and chef). When I stroll round the block I'm a walker, and when I watch the International Space Station go overhead I'm a space geek. I can be a driver, a boater, a cyclist or a pedestrian at any given time, which obviously the tabloids love. 

We are all different things at different times, so - I can now reveal - I've asked my wife that, should I suffer another heart attack she is to advise the media of my status accordingly so that there can be no doubt.

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