This headline went viral when an anchor-cum-journalist of a Telugu TV channel shouted at a sitting MLC of the BRS party. The tone and tenor of the exchange, notwithstanding the provocation, became news for a more sensitive reason: it was directed at a hardcore Telanganite by an Andhra anchor. That alone was enough to arouse anger and anguish among “khattar” Telanganites.
The MLC, in turn, used a slang expression aimed at those who indulge in slander and sleaze—language strong enough to be seen as an attempt at character assassination. Many, however, found fault with the MLC himself for obliging the channel by agreeing to appear on such a debate. Knowing full well the political character of the concerned channel, critics argued, prevention would have been better than cure.
Perhaps the next stage of degeneration will see anchors using even choicer epithets in Telugu to match the speakers, all in the name of spiking TRPs. We are already used to seeing near-physical confrontations on these panels; a day may not be far off when a bouncer-cum-anchor-cum-journalist resorts to both verbal and physical action in the studio. It may look “spicy” to ever-hungry viewers, many of whom refuse to reflect on what is actually being said.
For most of the audience, this has become little more than time-pass—cheap entertainment rather than a platform that serves any larger public purpose.
This spectacle reminded me of an incident in the 1960s, when the media meant government-controlled radio and a relatively free press through newspapers and journals. After some Dalits were reportedly burnt alive by upper-caste groups in Kanchikacherla, near Nandigama in Andhra Pradesh, a minister not only abused the Dalits but also lashed out at the journalists who reported the crime, saying both deserved to be “kicked.”
One journalist shot back, asking why the Dalits or those reporting their plight should be kicked, and not those responsible for the atrocity. The remark triggered nationwide anger. The issue reached Jagjivan Ram and Indira Gandhi while Parliament was in session. Public backlash led to severe criticism of the government in general and the minister in particular.
These two episodes underline the sea change between audiences of two different eras. The older generation of viewers and readers rallied behind truth and accountability. Today, in the age of compromised channels and manufactured outrage, a large section of the audience appears less concerned with substance and more eager to consume whatever is spiced and sensationalized.
The bottom line is simple: just as viewers switch channels in a fraction of a second, invited speakers too should adopt a “look before you leap” approach—unless they are prepared to risk ignominy or become easy victims of clever, cunning, and agenda-driven platforms.
