The discreet charm of idiocy
The clever journalist pretends to be stupid. Because there are already enough smart alecks, especially in editorial offices. An introduction to the professional deformation of us all.
Column The clever journalist pretends to be stupid. Because there are already enough smart alecks, especially in editorial offices. An introduction to our professional deformation.mbwana, an Italian proverb says: "The mother of idiots is always pregnant." And indeed: her children are everywhere, but especially often in front of microphones. And behind the microphones. Journalism is simply a highly attractive profession for unattractive minds, and being not just an idiot, but a public idiot, doesn't seem to be much of a problem at first glance. Lots of nut heads live with it brightly. Not a trace of self-doubt. Take the outrageously successful giant idiot ... (You know it, I know it, only he doesn't know it.) What speaks against it, however, is that idiots are similar. And you, Mbwana, only exist once, your mother gave birth to you in pain - and not in the hope of producing a dozen pieces.
Idiots are slaves to a method: profit is often the other word for systematic, i.e. system-compliant stupidity. So here is a short checklist of journalistic techniques that may be successful, but are sure to make you stupid (including antidotes).
1. you play the trend idiot. Due to a lack of real news, you proclaim a trend or its death every Sunday or Thursday: the end of the FDP, the new virginity, the return of the beard tie. (Recipe: Okay, your boss wants trends. Limit the trend nonsense to the lead and title. For the rest, deal with topics that really interest you).
2. you fabricate Dr. Oettker headlines. Take a sensible topic, such as the problems of the military department. And ask a universal expert, such as a sect researcher. The result is the title "DDPS organized like a sect?" (Recipe: don't do it.)
3. you start up the big milking machine. As soon as something happens, you make phone calls like the devil after barely informed politicians. You use the muddled answers to create a hefty controversy. ("SVP divided!") Recipe against it: Telephone terror is fun - like any nonsense. But it's better to follow up stories that are almost over. Then you can tell the whole novel with clever quotes. (To hell with primeurs: readers love self-contained novels!)
4. you shine in the celebrity sun. A dozen big names say nothing in passing (enthusiastic Blick headline: "This only happens at the WEF!"), or a big name says nothing to you in detail (see the last CEO interview): Where a moon shines, there is night. (Recipe against this: Never turn meaningless encounters with celebrities into interviews, but into portraits: Here you can explain, edit, add. Even movie stars are only as good as their lighting technician).
5. burn your doctoral thesis. And flee: from your desk to research. Ideally, switch to another department: from the features section to sports or politics. Journalism is the profession where you write smarter about what you don't know. (The two best parliamentary journalists in Switzerland are escaped music critics).
So far some tips. Without guarantee, of course. After all, pimped-out lead stories, expert quotes, telephone statements and name-dropping are all part of our trade - as is, unfortunately, solid knowledge over time. The line to idiocy is thin. And perhaps sooner or later we will all have to go down the same path that so many have gone before us. But not today, not tomorrow. Provided you take one last proverb to heart, Mbwana: "Stupidity is charming, stupidity is not."
Constantin Seibt muses on the borderline between stupidity and sheer stupidity.
Idiots are slaves to a method: profit is often the other word for systematic, i.e. system-compliant stupidity. So here is a short checklist of journalistic techniques that may be successful, but are sure to make you stupid (including antidotes).
1. you play the trend idiot. Due to a lack of real news, you proclaim a trend or its death every Sunday or Thursday: the end of the FDP, the new virginity, the return of the beard tie. (Recipe: Okay, your boss wants trends. Limit the trend nonsense to the lead and title. For the rest, deal with topics that really interest you).
2. you fabricate Dr. Oettker headlines. Take a sensible topic, such as the problems of the military department. And ask a universal expert, such as a sect researcher. The result is the title "DDPS organized like a sect?" (Recipe: don't do it.)
3. you start up the big milking machine. As soon as something happens, you make phone calls like the devil after barely informed politicians. You use the muddled answers to create a hefty controversy. ("SVP divided!") Recipe against it: Telephone terror is fun - like any nonsense. But it's better to follow up stories that are almost over. Then you can tell the whole novel with clever quotes. (To hell with primeurs: readers love self-contained novels!)
4. you shine in the celebrity sun. A dozen big names say nothing in passing (enthusiastic Blick headline: "This only happens at the WEF!"), or a big name says nothing to you in detail (see the last CEO interview): Where a moon shines, there is night. (Recipe against this: Never turn meaningless encounters with celebrities into interviews, but into portraits: Here you can explain, edit, add. Even movie stars are only as good as their lighting technician).
5. burn your doctoral thesis. And flee: from your desk to research. Ideally, switch to another department: from the features section to sports or politics. Journalism is the profession where you write smarter about what you don't know. (The two best parliamentary journalists in Switzerland are escaped music critics).
So far some tips. Without guarantee, of course. After all, pimped-out lead stories, expert quotes, telephone statements and name-dropping are all part of our trade - as is, unfortunately, solid knowledge over time. The line to idiocy is thin. And perhaps sooner or later we will all have to go down the same path that so many have gone before us. But not today, not tomorrow. Provided you take one last proverb to heart, Mbwana: "Stupidity is charming, stupidity is not."
Constantin Seibt muses on the borderline between stupidity and sheer stupidity.
> Constantin Seibt is editor of the weekly newspaper (WOZ).
