Anyone who learns of such a tragic event usually wants to know exactly, as quickly as possible: What happened? How could this happen? Have people been injured or even died? Are there pictures of the accident that make it possible to imagine what happened there?
This has nothing to do with sensationalism or perverse ambitions, but with the curiosity of people who want to know about what is happening in their environment; who allow themselves to be touched by the suffering of other people, who empathize, mentally replay events for themselves in order to understand them - and who, in normal cases, are probably also glad that the same thing did not happen to them.
In this process, images are of great importance. They allow the viewer to experience facts and circumstances directly, transporting information from the eye directly to the heart without the detour via the brain.
"ARD-aktuell" answered some of its viewers' pressing questions about the Bad Aibling accident with extensive reporting, including a ten-second video sequence from inside one of the crashed regional trains, filmed by a person affected by the accident (Werbewoche.ch reported).
Why does someone sitting on a train who has just had a serious accident, who is perhaps bleeding, who has hurt himself, film what he sees? Because at that moment he thinks, "I'll sell this to ARD!" or "I'll make a viral hit out of this"? Or because the reflexive reach for the smartphone at that moment helps him to remain calm, to build up a distance to the event and to understand what has happened? It's the same process that takes place later in the viewer's mind from the other direction.
I have two small sons. And I have looked at the picture of the refugee boy Aylan, who was washed up dead in Bodrum last year, countless times. Why do you think? Out of sensationalism? Certainly not! Out of a thirst for knowledge? Also not. I felt physically sick at the sight of the little dead man and I could hold back the tears with difficulty. I felt great sorrow, grief, compassion - but also gratitude. For my boys being whole and alive. Call it repulsive, disgusting, to look at such pictures - that's just how we humans tick: The more unimaginable something is, the more we need images to be able to comprehend. Young people say "now I see it" and mean "I got it."
How many times have you looked at pictures of the smoking Twin Towers in Manhattan in shock, dejection, disbelief? People are jumping out of windows to their deaths and we are watching closely. Is this any different than the "Aylan case" or the amateur film of the train accident in Bad Aibling? Just because the footage shows what's happening from a distance, because you're not as close, you don't see as much? I think not. People don't necessarily have to see mutilated corpses to understand the scope and tragedy of events.
The question of what we show and what we don't show, what we look at and what we don't look at, cannot be settled in principle. The answer depends on who is watching and what is being shown. For those directly involved in an accident, such footage is almost unbearable; it deepens and aggravates the suffering, regardless of whether you see details of people or just a blurred shot of the accident site. But for people who want to inform themselves, and ultimately for investigating authorities who have to clear up an accident, pictures are important. The only limits here are those of good taste and reverence.
Kai Gniffke, head of "ARD-aktuell," decided to broadcast a ten-second video sequence about the Bad Aibling accident, cut together from six minutes of footage, without sound. No injured people are shown. Nevertheless, Gniffke was harshly criticized. Among other things, for saying that the video sequence had little information value. Of course, if it conveyed more information, Gniffke would probably have violated the rules of good taste and reverence ...
The video snippet is like a small testimony in picture form and, in the absence of a statement, has justification in the overall report. However, the film footage showing the crushed trains and the removal of corpses is far more shocking and drills into the memory. Ultimately, it is the job of journalists to make their audience understand. ARD-aktuell" succeeded in doing that.
He had to find a compromise between the information mandate and respect for the victims and viewers, justified the attacked ARD man Gniffke. He did the right thing and mastered the difficult balancing act that everyone who reports on horrific events in which people died has to do.
The only thing that gives journalists flank protection and orientation in such contortions is their own humanity.
Anne-Friederike Heinrich, Editor in Chief
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