If there's one great lesson to be gleaned from the tragedy of Princess Diana's sudden death, it's that there's a severe disconnection between the popular conception of celebrity and the lives of the celebrities themselves. Shows like A Current Affair and Entertainment Tonight specialize in transforming the mundane into the apparently glamorous, as though these people live fairy-tale lives. And, to be sure, celebrities benefit from the hype - they sell lots of books and movie tickets. But they're also haunted by it. There's nothing sexy about people rifling through your garbage and taping your phone conversations, nor about having to shop for bulletproof clothing and cars.
What the paparazzi do is wrong, whether or not it's illegal, whether or not it gets anyone killed. There's no excuse for them. But that's not the end of the story, because they don't buy their own pictures. We buy them.
In an era in which we seem to hold the virtues of the free market above all else, it's more important than ever to also be keenly aware of its vices. We all know that supply and demand has its seamy side. But as individuals, we don't seem to recognize the role we play. We're just the consumers, anonymous and detached. We sit on the sidelines and we watch.
It's difficult to recognize that our watching creates the market, that what each of us does really matters. The responsibility is so small that it seems insignificant. But it is not. If just one person moves a teaspoon of earth from one neighborhood to another, it makes no difference. But when 100 million people do it, it creates a canyon, a flood plain, a wasteland. The same goes for sleazy media. Tiny, seemingly insignificant consumer actions - like watching a few minutes of a television show, or buying a tabloid at the supermarket - quickly add up to lucrative business. Each person who plunks down money or even pays a few moments of their precious attention is helping to create a heaving, prurient beast.
There are two ways to control this beast. The first is legislation meant to protect us from ourselves. That's how Europe chooses to respond to the paparazzi, and this tragedy will no doubt serve to stiffen its resolve. Here in the United States, we choose the second, more difficult path. We trust the marketplace to correct itself. Ultimately, this means problems are fixed not by the editors or the photographers, but by us.
Again, I'm not arguing that we should absolve the goons who not only chased Dodi and Diana but also, like vultures, shot pictures of the wreckage they may have helped create. But let us not forget that we're a part of their economy. We pay the people who pay them. In this way, we are complicit in the madness of celebrity. If we really want to kill the beast, all we have to do is stop feeding it with our gaze.
But is it possible to not look? Rubbernecking, it seems, is as human as kissing. When shocking or alluring things are put before us, we can't help but at least glance. Here's where I wholeheartedly endorse Brooke Shelby Biggs' exhortation to the media: Stand up and do the honorable thing. Show some ethical backbone. Lead by example.
When it comes to sleaze and celebrity journalism, there's a certain amount of moral responsibility that must rest with the editors and producers. The market may beckon, but they are the ones who choose to publish these distorting, agitating images.
I also agree with Jon Katz's argument that this isn't a subject at which the "mainstream" media can credibly point any fingers. They're just as complicit as the tabloids in myth-making. ABC News, just as much as The Star has aggressively ballooned the image of Diana into that of a goddess, both before and after her death.
But ultimately, I believe, the issue comes back to the marketplace. Whether it's in the real or digital world, "hits" matter. Whatever we watch or read, wherever we Web-surf, we help create a profitable market. We vote with our pocket-change and our valuable attention. We are the ultimate commodity all advertisers and for-profit journalists are after.
The information revolution is a marvel. It fuels and celebrates an empowering shift of control from giant bureaucracies to individuals. This is what Andrew Shapiro calls "The Control Revolution." But with all the advantages of this diffusion of power and control, Shapiro points out that there is also a serious burden being passed on to the individual. "The shift from government to individual power means that we'll increasingly have to take on a variety of responsibilities ourselves," Shapiro says. "The problem is that the state does some things better, more efficiently. Unless we consciously relinquish power, recognizing the benefits of representation, these responsibilities will sometimes turn into overly cumbersome burdens."
I think Shapiro is dead on. Empowerment is a terrific thing, but it's easy to take it too far. What libertarians seem to want is an unrestricted marketplace that also adheres to the Golden Rule. That would be lovely, but I fear it's an inherent contradiction. When control becomes that diffuse, and consumers are somewhat detached from the collective power of their actions, the market can get a little ugly. If libertarians want to continue to argue their position, it behooves them to help the rest of us understand how the marketplace can correct its own character. I'm all ears.
This article appeared originally in HotWired.
