I could have done without learning about the unfolding tragedy surrounding the death of Dr Michael Mosley, while on holiday on the Greek island of Symi. Journalists on small boats, talking to camera, pointing out in detail where his body was found, along with speculation about how he died. Christ, until it was announced he was missing, I had never heard of him, but obviously I have now.
Back in 1982, Don Henley, who is currently lip-syncing his way around Manchester with his Eagles tribute act, wrote one of his finest songs, a lacerating piece about tabloid-type journalism called Dirty Laundry. In it, Henley wrote this:
‘We got the bubble headed
Bleached blonde
Comes on at five
She can tell you ’bout the plane crash
With a gleam in her eye
It’s interesting when people die
Give us dirty laundry.’
Setting aside some unfortunate misogyny, Henley reveals a particular truth. The reason why we are learning about the specifics of Mosley’s disappearance and subsequent death is because ‘it’s interesting when people die. Give us dirty laundry.’ Which is to say that the cruel media, in setting out the most raw and upsetting details, is only doing what we want it to.
I’m not having a pop at you, my loyal reader, because I am as bad, if not worse, than you are. While I am not as avid a news consumer as I once was, I am hardly without sin. Following the capture and imprisonment many moons ago of the so-called Yorkshire Ripper, Peter Sutcliffe, I accumulated a small library of books, all of which gave detailed and gory information about his murders. I consumed them as if the victims were incidental characters in a grotesque story. I was gripped, as I suspect many others are gripped today by the initial mystery of Mosley’s sad demise. Had he been someone who had come across as I watched TV or read books by him, I could well be overdosing in media overkill, desperate for information.
Then, as with, say, Sutcliffe’s victims, I thought a little out of the box. The main character was no hero, although with his media-created nickname you might have been forgiven he was. The families of his victims had to deal with intensely personal information being put out there in the full public gaze. Mosley’s story could not be more different from Sutcliffe’s and the media interest – or should I say intrusion? – is the only connection.
How much do I need to know about the lives of others because the news in general is about the lives of people? Do I have some kind of right to be told about Mosley’s story, beyond his initial disappearance and subsequent death? And where will this story take me, where will it go? How many more takes on his life will the media discover? I just hope there aren’t any and that he can be allowed to rest in peace.
Its tough, isn’t it, because we live in a free country, allegedly, and we have the right to know pretty well everything within reason. Perhaps, then, we will need to make our own decisions on what is put before us and choose what it is we want to know and why. Is it curiosity for curiosity’s sake or is it more than that?
From what I have learned, Michael Mosley appears to have been some kind of guy, who certainly leaves a decent legacy in terms of the wider health of the nation. Maybe I should check out his work? Maybe I would learn something useful? And maybe that was the point of his work in the first place?
The small details, doubtless to be investigated in great depth by a hungry, inquisitive media, on behalf of a hungry, inquisitive public, are of next to zero interest to me.
I’m hardly a paragon of virtue, I’ve got this wrong before, I’ll get it wrong again but just for now I’ll leave this subject alone. The unbearable tragedy is not mine. Mainly, it’s none of my business.
PS The no photo photo is deliberate, hopefully relevant to this blog.
