Get in the tent, Uncle!
That's better.
September 18, 2008 at 8:16 pm
By Al Giordano
I have a confession to make.
Like Governor Palin, I have my own tanning bed, too.
Here's a photo of it:
It's the biggest tanning bed in the world, passes through almost every coastal country, and in my grand beneficence and generosity, I share it with the peoples of this earth.
And why not? After you Field Hands just bought four battleground states for me in 24 hours (thank you very much, and if you were still planning to toss a coin into the cup, it's never too late!), I can afford to share and share alike.
For those that might be interested, let me share a little bit of what I've learned about authentic journalism and media viruses, using the tanning bed story's trajectory as Exhibit A.
As a full-time newspaperman in the 1990s, I began to ask myself why some of the stories I had reported were picked up by other newspapers, TV and radio media, caused national and even international tremors and the occasional quake, while others that may have been more important or interesting to me never quite captured broader attention and imagination.
In that quest, my curiosity led me to a book by a then-35-year-old writer, Media Virus: Hidden Agendas in Popular Culture, by Douglas Rushkoff (1996, Ballantine Press). It charted how new concepts and pieces of information first enter the public consciousness as "memes" (the basic building block of an idea) and they spread throughout the "datasphere" much like a virus propagates. And like living organisms, news stories can mutate and come to mean something different to people or even opposite of their original truths, like a gigantic multi-dimensional game of "telephone."
Just ask Fatimah Ali, the Philadelphia columnist whose use of the words "race war" two weeks ago certainly got a lot of attention; but probably not in the way she had hoped. It's a problem for a lot of journalists and bloggers: they can write a perfectly legitimate and newsworthy story, but by the time the media machine chews it up and spits it out the message is distorted, and often runs contrary, to the original one.
Four days after its publication, the tanning bed story has indeed replicated far and wide, but still remains intact, true to its original facts, more like what chemists call a catalyst: "that which changes the other but remains itself unchanged."
My experience is that media viruses can be crafted carefully enough so that they are more likely to multiply and mutate in intended ways. Responsible and factual reporting is, increasingly, just the first half of the work. If the story just sits there and doesn't draw in the public imagination, then what have we accomplished?
In the new media age, a journalist (or blogger, or communicator of any kind) now has to also anticipate how his or her story is likely to bounce off against other agendas and realities in society (and has to keep abreast of what those currents are and in what directions they push). Writing a story has become more of a challenge, like playing chess, that requires anticipating the counter-moves, steps in advance. A good story must now come with its own built-in "immune systems" or "antibodies" to best program its mutative potential and direction.
A dozen years into this revelation, and after a lot of trial, error and practice, this task is fairly routine for me. One develops an eye for which stories have potential to attach themselves to other media and get spread farther, and how to construct them so that they don't implode or backfire (hint: that still includes the absolute necessity of getting the story right, because any falsehood or error in a story, no matter how small, becomes the weakness through which it can be mutated to turn against its original message. Not only that, but some of us do believe in that old fashioned moral called "telling the truth."). I've also learned through experience how to attach small, unfinished sub-plots - open questions as shining baubles - to a story line that other media won't be able to resist latching onto and trying to complete. It's like leaving a few pieces of a mostly-finished jigsaw puzzle on the side of the board to entice others into joining in the quest to complete it.
Our story on Monday, Palin's Private Tanning Bed in the Alaska Governor's Mansion, co-authored with ace investigative reporter Bill Conroy, included some of those "shiny objects" to wave before a hungry media like a bag of crack tossed into a drug treatment center.
Within hours, the story ricocheted first through the media of the "low information voters" - gossip columns, entertainment magazine websites, and others that speak to voters that don't pay attention to "serious" political news, but nonetheless many of them vote - and quickly developed enough steam without becoming mutated off its essential truths to be picked up by the "serious" media. The "tanning bed" meme is now genetically spliced onto Governor Palin's biography and profile. It will be mentioned in most media profiles of her. She might as well have the image of a tanning bed tattooed onto her forehead.
Giving birth to a good media virus is much like having a child that is born already as a full-grown teenager: the story itself is independent enough to make its way through the world. The parent has to let go somewhat, sit back, and give the rebellious spawn room to determine it's own growth (the creation of media viruses is not a sport for control freaks; one has to resign himself to the fact that once an idea or concept is launched in the public forum, one loses most power over what happens to it. The only influence one has is during its gestation, to construct it to withstand attack and grow in alignment with its message. It helps, I think, to be a personality type that actually enjoys watching one's creation's twists and turns as competing agendas in society and media collide upon it, with the faith that one has given his virus a good enough formation, it will remain on its intended path.)
Let's look at some of the first reactions out there, along with the sub-plots that - like in the tale of Huckleberry Finn Tom Sawyer painting the fence - allowed the "virus" to be caught by other media makers who carried and further developed it, free of charge.
The first wave of propagation came from that bastion of "low information voters," the gossip and entertainment media.
Los Angeles Times gossip columnist Elizabeth Snead asked aloud:
What's the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull?
A tanning bed!
..."It was done shortly after she took office [in early 2007] and moved into the mansion," Wetherell told the Narco News, who first reported the story.
The gossip page of the Denver Post couldn't resist the story, either.
US Weekly - that glossy celebrity magazine that appears at your supermarket check-out counter - ran with the story instantly on its website (and many of the other media that picked up on the story credited the magazine, rather than Narco News, which is par for the course: proud parents of media viruses can't worry too much about who gets the credit. That's part of the red flag waved before the other media bulls that causes them to charge at it: a media virus maker can't hang on to paternity claims too possessively):
Self-proclaimed "hockey mom" Sarah Palin had a private tanning bed installed in the Governor's Mansion in Juneau, Alaska, Usmagazine.com confirmed on Monday...
The Narco News Bulletin first reported on the former beauty queen's penchant for a bronzed body.
Yup, nothing like a blurb in US Weekly to get the circus started. Sean Hannity of Fox News was apoplectic:
Here's the transcript of Hannity of Fox News marking up the faux-outrage:
"US Weekly" is at it again. In this week's issue, the magazine is, quote, "exposing how Governor Palin had a tanning bed installed in the governor's mansion." The magazine reports that installing such a tanning bed in your home could cost up to $35,000....
(And that, in turn, got the media critics at NewsHounds.us parsing Hannity as he parsed the tanning bed.)
Examiner gossip columnist Liz Barrett absolutely hated our story... and dedicated twelve paragraphs to it:
She bought it with her own money, so who cares?
And, Liz, you publicized the facts of our story for free. Congratulations. And thank you.
A good media virus provokes even those whose interests would be better served by zipping their mouths shut to spread the contagion by screeching out against it. The challenge is to design the virus so that it is immune to being changed once it goes through that loop. Essentially the point most Palin defenders raised in her defense is that she paid for it by herself. By accurately reporting that fact in the original story, they were denied their usual accusatory response about a story being only half-true.
A successful media virus ideally has a bit of humor built into it. Make them laugh and their hearts and mouths will follow. The subject - a tanning bed in the Alaska governor's mansion - of course is itself humorous, the report that launched a thousand wisecracks:
Denise Williams at AOL News asked whether Palin is really the salt-of-the-earth outdoorswoman that she claims to be: "Caribou or Malibu?"
AOL's tabloid news page TMZ titled its version of the story "Fake Baked Alaska."
Celebrity Café reported: "Hockey Mom" Installed Private Tanning Bed."
MomLogic grabbed onto the "Palin as celebrity" subplot:
Guess that Midnight Sun isn't enough to keep Governor Palin looking her bronzed best. Palin, the self-proclaimed "ordinary hockey mom," reportedly likes to get her tan on in her very own personal tanning bed before greeting constituents -- just like tanning god George Hamilton.
The Improper couldn't resist repeating the word "tanorexic," and like many media picked up on the contradiction between having a cancer-causing tanning bed and being the running mate of a prominent two-time survivor of skin cancer:
Despite her carefully crafted image as an "average hockey mom" and a simple outdoorsy gal, Sarah Palin indulges a very unhealthy (and expensive) habit: She's a tanorexic.
...Ironically, John McCain, who selected Palin as his vice presidential running mate on August 29, has battled skin cancer twice--in 1993 and 2000. "I coat SPF 30 on myself first thing in the morning, and wear long sleeves and a hat whenever I'm in the sun," McCain has said.
One mutation that I didn't expect came from the tanning bed industry itself. The closing paragraph of our story on Monday said:
On the bright side, the long overlooked "tanorexic lobby" - the industries that make the machines, their representatives and lobbyists in Washington - may finally be able to step outdoors and into the non-artificial sunlight, having one of their own through which to promote their product to a new generation of youth, a celebrity endorsement that could end up a heartbeat away from the presidency of the United States of America.
And, lo' and behold, the Indoor Tanning Association fired off a press release to prove exactly that point:
"Moderate amounts of indoor tanning allow Governor Palin to experience the many health benefits that come with exposure to UV light," said Dan Humiston, President of the Indoor Tanning Association and candidate for United States Congress (R-NY27). "Especially in dreary northern locations like Alaska, indoor tanning can help guard against wintertime depression and ward off diseases associated with vitamin D deficiency."
"Kudos to Governor Palin for standing up to dermatologists and other members of the sun scare industry who are trying to frighten Americans away from UV light."
Now, that's funny. (Are her defenders trying to say that the Governor suffers from "depression" or "disease"? We never made any such claim.) The Tanorexia Lobby's press release also got the story onto Fox News.
The Chicago Tribune's health columnist Julie Deardoff found the story good for her beat (she speaks to another sector of "low information voters," many of whom that don't follow the political press or daily campaign developments closely). Again, the public health issues raised by the story were paramount:
The Narco New Bulletin, of all publications, which reports on "the drug war and democracy from Latin America," has broken the astonishing news that Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, the Republican vice presidential nominee, had a private tanning bed installed in the governor's mansion.
This juicy tidbit was quickly scooped up by US Weekly, followed by the Los Angeles Times blog, The Dishrag.
Both articles pointed out that Palin declared May 2007 to be "Skin Cancer Awareness Month. The press materials noted that "Skin cancer is caused, overwhelmingly, by over-exposure to ultraviolet radiation from the sun and from tanning beds.'"
Palin's running mate, John McCain, has said he is a big fan of sunscreen, long sleeves and a hat. He battled skin cancer in 1993 and 2000.
(And note how, as with many good media viruses, the "meta" story of the story's growth becomes, post-modernly, a part of the story.)
Now, I know there are people that think a story isn't credible if it doesn't get onto the pages of the New York Times and other "serious" journals. But you'd be surprised how those stately rags get so much of their material from the entertainment and gossip media. Once the story was out there, it quickly began to push back into the realm of "political reporting":
Winn and Tonic hooked onto the political implications:
this blasted tanning bed might prove to be the time machine that warped Sarah Palin - and much of the country - back to reality.
So did TruthDig:
there's something truly bizarre about the news that the folksy candidate in the race had a private tanning bed installed in the governor's mansion. The cost of the bed is undisclosed, but one source says the cost of such a device installed in a home can be up to $35,000.
For all the fluff, this story does illustrate a recurring theme of Palin's candidacy. Despite owning her own private tanning salon, the governor launched a skin cancer awareness month and is running with a guy who has to cover his head before he can go outside.
In the second day of its news cycle the story moved from the gossip pages to the political mentioners, many of whom hooked their coverage to Ben Smith's first and second mentions of it on his Politico blog.
ABC's The Note (the must-read each morning by the political press corps) found, in the story, a metaphor for what many watchful observers see as the Palin bubble beginning to burst:
Seven weeks out from Election Day, Team McCain is about to learn that some things even Gov. Sarah Palin can't make better.
(And as Palin's credibility takes a hit -- there are some things that even a stretch in the gubernatorial tanning bed can't make sunny -- could the Palin phenom be cresting?)
The Note credited US magazine, errantly, as having reported the story. Again, that kind of mutation regarding the paternity of a media virus is to be expected.
NBC's First Read reported it, too (referring to Narco News as an "Alaska blog.")
Rightwing bloggers (just check the "trackbacks" list on Michele Malkin's latest outrage d'jour) have taken the bait, complaining about the story while unwittingly serving as delivery persons for it.
Mmmmmm. We're drinking their milkshakes. Slurp!
The New York Times is now on it, too, citing, "Narco News, a site more usually concerned with the antidrug efforts in Latin America than Alaskan grooming habits."
And ABC News suggests, this morning, that Narco News' tanning bed story has caused chaos in the Alaska governor's press office.
"It's vetting gone haywire," said Gov. Sarah Palin's beleaguered press secretary, Bill McAllister, as he dealt with a new round of questions about the governor -- this time about a tanning bed installed in the governor's mansion in Juneau.
John Aloysius Farrell of US News & World Report works it into the overall campaign narrative:
And so the great commoner, Sarah Palin, can install a $35,000 tanning bed in her home, yet be Just Like Me.
ABC's Jake Tapper says she is "just like me" (meaning "him") - with her own tanning bed and "teleprompter issues" she's really a typical... TV anchor!
The Independent of London reports:
The political world is agog with the report that Sarah Palin furnished her governor's mansion with a tanning bed.
TechPresident covered the "meta" story about how "blogs are making news."
Cenk Uygur got so excited that he hired Conroy and I as writers without telling us:
"Imagine if John Edwards had a tanning bed in his house?" he asked. Wish we'd thought of that!
(Cenk: You can cut the ghostwriting check to The Fund for Authentic Journalism.)
And what would a media virus be if it didn't infect Maureen Dowd of the New York Times?
The latest news from Alaska is that the governor keeps a tanning bed in the Juneau mansion. As The Los Angeles Times pointed out, when Palin declared May 2007 Skin Cancer Awareness Month in Alaska, the press release explained that skin cancer was caused by "the sun and from tanning beds."
I admit I got a chuckle watching Keith Olbermann ask the stiff Newsweek writer Howard Fineman to comment upon Palin's tanning bed, as Fineman grimaced and uncomfortably tried to dance around a topic he felt was below him:
The next move in the trajectory of our news report's journey through the entertainment press to the political press will now be into the comedy media. Wonkette gave it a nice launch there, and it shouldn't be long until it hits the late night TV monologues and perhaps even Saturday Night Live producers will tell the prop department to line up a tanning bed for Tina Fey to play with on television.
For media like Wonkette, the tanning bed is already the gift that keeps on giving. A second headline from the Wonketeers: "International Tanning Association Tilts Toward Windmills, the Sun."
Newsday's "Punchlines" feature by comedy writers includes a one-liner from Pedro Bartes:
"Sarah Palin is now under criticism for having a tanning bed installed in the governor's mansion. The governor claims she did it because she wanted to understand people of color."
Of course, some people are funny without intending to be, like Buffalo, New York, Republican congressional candidate Dan Humiston, who owns a chain of tanning bed salons, who deadpanned to his local daily newspaper:
"There are many tanning salons in Washington. I think she'll be fine."
You can't make this stuff up.
And Associated Press reports that, when it comes to the Alaska governor's staff's ability to field questions, le affaire tanning bed was the straw that broke the moose's back. There are gag orders all around, now:
JUNEAU, Alaska (AP) - GOP vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin is effectively turning over questions about her record as Alaska's governor to John McCain's political campaign, part of an ambitious Republican strategy to limit any embarrassing disclosures and carefully shape her image for voters in the rest of the country.
Does that make Bill Conroy, officially, the last journalist to ever get a substantive interview with an Alaska state government spokesman?
AOL News mused aloud today:
Look out, Governor Palin, this meme is "out there" now. Steer clear of Greek columns, unplug that tanning bed and you might make it to November without being fatally smeared as an uppity elitist.
There's that word - "meme" - again!
That's quite the four-day run. Still, it's not that big a deal - all in a week's work - and we're on to other stories while leaving the rest of the pack to wrestle with this one. But it sure has been fun to watch this child grow!
