Sultan Knish
On Dec 3rd, Naeem Davis, a homeless Muslim man, shoved a middle-aged
Korean man in front of an oncoming Q subway train in Times Square. A
Muslim photographer snapped a shot of him waiting to die that appeared
on the cover of the New York Post and then went around the world. And
that was that... except it wasn't.
On December 28, there was another shoving murder. After the latest round
of murders, suicides and accidental deaths, seven people have died
under trains in 2013; a number that does not include the deaths
previously mentioned. Last week two people committed suicide by jumping
in front of trains. Another was killed in a possible accident. One lost a
leg. Two others were seriously injured. And this week there was another
suicide.
For those who might be wondering, these numbers are not normal. But they
are predictable. While the MTA discusses the cost of putting up
platform barriers, the actual triggering mechanism was the New York Post
photograph of a dying man waiting to be hit by a train. And that
photograph has dark implications for school shootings as well.
We like to think that we have free will. That we enter the station,
knowing our destination ahead of time so that whatever delays or
mistakes crop up, we will get to where we intended to go. And that may
be true for most people. But it's not true for all people. It may not be
true for the people who push others under trains or jump in front of
them.
Around the same time that the American Revolution was getting underway,
the German writer Goethe wrote a book that would become the Catcher in
the Rye and Twilight of its day. "The Sorrows of Young Werther" had the
dubious honor of being disowned by its author, starting a fashion trend
and a grimmer trend as well.
Werther Fever spread around the world. Readers wrote parodies of the
book or imagined different endings for the characters. Some wrote
themselves into the story or wrote poems about the story. There were
unauthorized sequels, people dressing up like the characters and all the
usual things that we have now come to take for granted, but that were
still somewhat new and surprising then.
And some committed suicide like Werther. The Werther Effect was born and
it had a sneaky way of resurfacing whenever and wherever the book
became popular again.
Some 200 years later, German television debuted "Death of a Student", a
six-part series about Claus Wagner, a high school student who commits
suicide by jumping under a train. Each episode began with Claus jumping
under the train. The series was supposed to teach teenagers that suicide
was wrong, or as Big Fun from Heathers sang, "Teenage Suicide (Don't Do
It)"; but it had the opposite effect.
The real message of "Death of a Student" was the same message as that of
The Sorrows of Young Werther, if you kill yourself, lots of people will
pay attention to you. And suddenly the number of teenage boys killing
themselves by jumping under a train increased by 175%. Having failed to
prevent enough suicides, the show aired a second time. This time fewer
people were watching and the suicide rate for teenage boys only went up
115%.
A few years later in neighboring Vienna, suicides went up when they were
featured on the front page rand fell 75% when they were pushed to the
back page, run sans photos and without mention of the word, "Suicide."
Young Werther, in his blue-tailed coat and yellow vest, stopped chasing
the trains of the Vienna underground.
The suicide cluster is a well-known phenomenon, especially among
teenagers; it is why the media avoids coverage of teenage suicides...
with one exception. A teenager who hangs himself in his garage, jumps
under a train or turns on the gas will generally not make the front page
or even the back page. But if he takes a gun into a school, opens fire
and then commits suicide, Young Werther will be front page news for
days, weeks or even months.
James Holmes of the Aurora Massacre did not kill himself, but like
Werther he picked up his own groupies, the Holmies, some of whom dye
their hair orange and dress like him. Misery loves company and so do the
unhinged. As the media began covering the Holmies, the fan club
increased with the amount of condemnatory coverage. The usual media
cycle of promoting what it pretends to discourage for its own profit, so
that it can cover it even more, had begun.
The troubling thing about people is that if you throw a torchlight
parade, people will join in. If you hand out armbands, they will take
them. And if you tell them to kill someone else or themselves, some of
them will do it. Not all of them, but enough of them to make for a
bloody ugly scene. Most dictators already know this. So do most
reporters. And both use the phenomenon for their own purposes.
"No man is an island entire of itself," John Donne wrote, "every man is a
piece of the continent." And some pieces of the continent are more
easily invaded than others. Some of the peninsulas in the gulf are very
suggestible indeed.
Suicides spike after front page coverage of a suicide. After Marilyn
Monroe's death, 197 more people killed themselves than the statistical
norm. Suicides rise even after fictional suicides on soap operas. And
murders are also influenced by the coverage of real and fictional
murders. The rise in the number of shootings after a heavily publicized
shooting isn't a mysterious conspiracy, it's Werthers being Werther or
Lanza or Holmes; identifying with the method of dealing with their
frustrations, if not the man.
The Young Werthers and the Holden Caufields, and their many modern
literary and cinematic counterparts, whether they kill themselves or
not, represent a violent shift to the wrong track, a forceful break with
convention and the demands of their society. By breaking with
expectations and obligations they achieve a measure of freedom. They
even become role models. Rebels without a cause who seem more alive
because they reject conformity and society, and follow their passions
and energies, even if they occasionally end up dead.
Their real life counterparts may lack their artificial appeal, but they
still spread ripples in the pond that add up to patterns of death. And
their accomplices promote their legends on the evening news, laying out
every detail of their violent break with conformity for those who might
consider following in their footsteps. And the violence spreads.
People are not mere machines who repeat back what they are given, but
nor are ideas empty signals shouted into a void. Society is built on
such signals. As is civilization. And it is foolish to pretend that the
streams of communications that surround and connect those islands do not
also influence the direction in which they drift. In a society where
fame is the object, media coverage acts as both reward and punishment.
And like any other training method, it produces its results.
Stick a photo of a man about to be hit by a train on the cover of a
citywide newspaper, and more people will be pushed under trains and jump
under trains. Spend weeks making a mass shooter famous and others will
decide that resolving their problems with a shooting spree makes sense.
Bad ideas are like bad signals, even if disapproved of, they are
imitated if they are broadcast loudly enough. And the modern media is a
deafeningly loud broadcast mechanism with few standards and many cynical
and hypocritical agendas.
That does not mean that we ought to push the 1st Amendment under the
train, the way that the media has been trying to do to the 2nd
Amendment, but it does call for soul-searching and responsibility not by
the people who make guns or defend the right to carry them, as the
media insists, but by the people who make school shootings and subway
suicides. The people who insist that everyone must search their souls,
but them.
Stephen King, who recently jumped into the fray with his own gun control
screed, was credited with inspiring one of the first clusters of school
shootings in the United States. To his credit, King has wrestled with
the question, withdrawing "Rage" from sale and conceding that it had an
incendiary effect on troubled minds. To his discredit, King has used
that action to argue that gun owners, manufacturers and civil rights
groups should agree to a ban on the mythical assault rifle.
Ideas are more powerful than weapons. Weapons can kill a man, but ideas
can cause a man to kill. Nevertheless the United States is a country
built on the premise that ideas and weapons should be available to all.
We are a country with high capacity magazines of both kinds. That
experiment in human liberty is a dangerous one, and even though some
Americans get on the wrong track, whether it's the left-wing terrorists
who haunted America in the last century or the spree killers who trouble
it now, it is a profoundly worthy experiment because it allows us to
choose who we are.
A totalitarian society cannot be moral. It can only be immoral. The few
moral people in it retain their morality only by defying authority. In
such a society, the Young Werther isn't a screwup, he's a saint. In our
society morality is a choice. Even as we drift into a totalitarian
consensus that exchanges choice for obedience, individual opinions for
mass media and civilian weapons for a police state, the power of choice
still allows us to choose the right track or the wrong track.
The American can still choose to push a man in front of a train, kill a
class full of children or vote to turn over his freedom and that of his
friends, neighbors and countrymen to the state. Those are all choices
that come up on the wrong track. The wrong track is the mass track. It
is the track of letting the signals make the choices and of a
willingness to kill and die just to appear for a moment as a ghost in
the media's fame machine.
Choice requires a moral culture. It requires a weight of decency to
overcome the darker impulses that lead men to take the wrong track. It
requires us to think not only of our destination, but how we get there.
It demands that we see ourselves not as the train running over a fragile
body or as the passengers clumping together for safety while turning
over the movement of the train to the driver, but as the drivers of our
own train.
A moral society is based on the awareness of choice. Not the empty
Wertheresque drama of it, but the knowledge that our choices define our
lives and those of our neighbors. They call on us to be good people
because the goodness of our society does not come from the law or the
state, but from ourselves.
When the American society was hijacked from a consensus of the people
and transformed into a top-down programming mechanism for the big
thinkers and the ideal men, its moral consensus became corrupted by that
power. Its morality became a top-down operation, rather than a
bottom-up faith, and as the media management has decayed, its mixed
signals and the ugly madness that it often broadcasts for its own profit
and entertainment have become the ugly madness and mixed signals that
lead some of its viewers and listeners to the wrong track.
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