Over a decade ago, TV news was a Government monopoly. We were all captive audiences of Doordarshan. Today, there are, perhaps, 60 dedicated news channels whilst several others have news bulletins in their daily schedules. And, I haven’t included BBC, CNN, Bloomberg and Channel NewsAsia in this reckoning. They would be there regardless of the Indian news miracle. As a result it’s not an exaggeration to claim that news on television is a popular programme. Even if the viewership at any one time does not suggest that two other factors do: the enthusiasm of broadcasters for news and the willingness of advertisers to support it.

How much of what we see is true?
One consequence of this is that we are as a nation better informed or at least we have the potential to be.  I accept that it all depends on what you watch.  But the very profusion of news and its easy accessibility raise questions we would not have asked before.  Some of these questions might seem heretical coming from a television news producer.  Others point towards debates and solutions the west has encountered but which we in India are yet to experience.  But in either case they are questions that need to be asked.  Today I want to raise some of them and suggest hesitant answers.
 
Let me start by asking what sort of news do we get from television?  It’s pretty much immediate – we no longer have to wait for tomorrow’s papers to find out what’s happened today.  Television news channels can tell you within a minute.  Some boast of doing so even faster.  It can also be visual and highly illustrative.  Television shows rather than describes.  You feel as if you are there witnessing for yourself.  Although I do not wish to exaggerate but in that sense it can be participatory.

But television news has two important limitations and beyond that an inherent tendency to sensationalise.  Let’s tackle the latter first.  The screen shows only what the camera films.  In turn the camera films only what the cameraman focuses upon.  This is not merely a question of subjective choice – although it is that too – it is also a technical matter.  The camera will film the visual it focuses on excluding whatever is on either side of it.  You do not get the picture the eye can see.  You only get what the lens can fit in.  Thus a succession of close ups of a fire or of dead bodies or of fallen trees could suggest an enormous blaze or a massacre or severe cyclonic destruction.  That may be the case but it’s also possible that it may not.  Yet in either event the mind of the viewer will leap to this conclusion.  The danger is it could be the wrong one.
 
This is what I call television’s inherent tendency to sensationalise.  This is also why the statement “it has to be true because I saw it on the box” is actually misleading or, at least, based on a fallacious understanding of TV.  But this problem is easily taken care of – either by pulling out and showing wide shots that put events in perspective or by wisely written commentary.  The only thing is when journalists are up against tight time deadlines – which is more often than not the case – such balancing can be squeezed out.

What TV news don't show!
The two limitations of television news are more difficult to tackle and in India, at least, I have so far seen little attempt to tackle them.  At times there is even little acknowledgement of them.

The first limitation: TV has problems handling what it cannot show
An anchor’s talking head is not easy to follow - aural information is the most difficult to comprehend particularly when it is detailed – and graphics or photographs don’t always help.  This is why news bulletins occasionally ignore what they cannot film.  In a western democracy – where the reach of TV cameras is enormous – this has minimal impact.  In India – where the reach of TV cameras is comparatively minimal – the impact can be enormous.
 
This is why there is so much more news in the papers than on television.  This is  why we ‘hear’ or ‘read’ about events like the ABVP banning jeans in Lucknow colleges but never see it.  After all how do you show a ban?  More importantly this is also why the budget is so boring on television.  First, it’s just a speech but then there’s the question what is the speech about.  That’s an even bigger problem.  What it’s about is not the price of commodities, not even the tax on the price of commodities, but the change in the tax on the price of commodities and sometimes the percentage change in that tax.  None of that is easy to visualise so, instead, we are shown potatoes and tomatoes.  No wonder those who follow the budget on screen usually doze off.

The author, Karan Thapar is a television anchor.
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The second limitation of television news: A bias against understanding
To quote a phrase made famous in Britian by John Birt in the 1970s: Television has a bias against understanding. Let us understand this with a desi example.

When television tells you about a gruesome event like the murder of Graham Staines it brings home the horror of what happened as no other medium can.  It sickens you.  It tugs at your emotions.  It stabs at your conscience.  And all of that is very welcome.
 
But what television does not do is to explain why this happened.  I don’t mean who did it, how, where, when and at what time.  Those facts are easily communicated.  I mean why?  How could followers of one of the world’s most peaceful religions turn upon a single man and his two children?  How could we – a people who think of ourselves as tolerant, welcoming, loving – kill so ruthlessly and mercilessly?
 
These are questions of context, of background, of history.  In the Graham Staines case they were answered – if at all they were – by a judicial commission.  No doubt newspapers don’t tackle them adequately either – although in the op-ed pages they try – but then newspapers don’t make the same impact when they report such tragedies.  Television does.  Worse that impact pushes people towards easy conclusions.  A rush to judgement follows.
 
Two consequences stand out : we all think we know the truth behind Graham Staines’ grisly death and the guilty party – if I can use that emotive term – feels hard done by.  But the truth is embedded in a context television news does not and did not explore and, therefore, most of us have not found out about.  And the guilty party may well be guilty but we have not as yet fully established its guilt nor, more importantly, understood it.
 
Inadequate appreciation of the limitations of television and its inherent tendency to sensationalise, coupled with the fact that news on television is both more frequent and accessible and often has greater impact, can lead to unintended distortions or imperfect understanding.  In such circumstances news and views can become perilously mixed up.
 
Dealing with distortions
I, now, attempt at finding some solutions.
The first lesson: Reportage is not enough
I promised hesitant answers and, hesitantly, I shall attempt them.
 
The first lesson is that reportage is not enough.  We need more context, more explanation, more background.  In turn that means we need more specialist correspondents – more correspondents with dedicated fields to furrow – and fewer fire-fighters.  It also means that for most important developments television news needs to supplement reports of what’s happened with analysis of why and what it means.  In other words, news analysis has to become part of news reportage.
 
The second lesson: We need more current affairs
The second lesson is that we need more current affairs.  News on its own is not enough.  We need programmes that go deeper, wider, further.  I know that in India, at least in theory, we have them but they fail to serve their purpose.  I include my own in that judgement unreservedly.  Such programmes work when they take their subject more seriously than the personalities participating in them.  In India, it’s the other way around.  We need the cold analysis of current affairs.  Instead we have the spectacle and tamasha of clashing view points.  We need to shed light but end up generating heat.
 
The third lesson: Finally, television needs the sort of wisdom that comes with age.  It has in plenty enthusiasm, dedication, tireless striving, and ceaseless vigil.  All of that is remarkable in an industry so young.  Let that not be gainsaid.  But it does not have the capacity to reflect, to pronounce wisely, to be sagacious, to speak with gravitas.  No doubt such qualities are difficult to acquire but their absence is telling.
 
Of course there’s a lot more that can and should be done but my intention is to raise questions, focus attention and, hopefully, start a debate.  For that purpose, I think, I have written enough.

The author, Karan Thapar is a television anchor.