‘Does this story help me make better decisions?’
Kiwis are a lucky bunch. From the bottom of the earth, we witness the world’s agony through our TV screens, safe in the knowledge that we can always change the channel. Disasters, wars, diseases and famines; these images wash over us, then recede. They are too foreign – too distant – to seem real.
Coronavirus caught us by surprise. It climbed out of our screens and into our homes, schools and workplaces. And the story of this crisis is just as contagious – and toxic – as the virus itself.
Before the pandemic, many New Zealanders were already struggling with their mental health. One in nine Kiwi adults are prescribed antidepressants each year. Our suicide rate is at a record high. Our mental health system is broken and underfunded.
We have carried each other through great tragedies over the past decade. Among them: the earth shaking, a mine exploding, a volcano erupting and a gunman opening fire.
But coronavirus poses an unprecedented threat to our mental health, because we cannot fight it using our best weapon: social connection.
Rather than coming together for meaningful face-toface contact, we must self-isolate. Rather than pulling ourselves away from our devices, we are more reliant on them than ever.
Rather than structuring our time around positive activities – like work, sport, travel and events – our diaries are empty.
For many Kiwis, life has become lonely and dark. But mental distress does not equate to mental illness. Worry, sadness and despair are normal human reactions to a crisis of this scale.
Instead of trying to escape those emotions, we can use the power of storytelling to make sense of what we’re experiencing.
New Zealand is fortunate to be served by reliable news media, which are providing trustworthy journalism and consistent health advice.
However, many of us are drowning in an endless stream of breaking news alerts, updates, warnings and predictions. For the first time in history, humans are watching a global catastrophe unfold in slow-motion – minute by minute, click by click.
This week, I spent hours reading about celebrities who are in isolation. I analysed Italy’s death rates. I read Donald Trump’s tweets. I schooled up on the microbiology of coronavirus. None of this added anything to my life. It just added to my anxiety.
I’ve settled on a simple test for my media consumption: ‘‘Does this story help me to make better decisions?’’
Each of us is responsible for the quality and volume of the information we consume. We should also be selective about the content we share with others, especially on social media.
I predict that our media habits will radically change in the coming months.
During wartime, entertainment played a vital role in keeping people’s spirits high through the intimacy of radio and the escapism of cinema.
The Great Depression was Hollywood’s golden era. Gone With The Wind and The Wizard of Oz captured hearts and minds. Musicals and gangster films took off. Dancing was popular, and a new board game called Monopoly became a smash hit.
In 2020, reality TV will be resurgent. As TV studios shut down current productions, we will gravitate to nostalgic shows that provide comfort and reassurance, like Friends and Gilmore Girls.
Entertainers like Stephen Colbert – who presented The Late Show from a bathtub this week – will draw new audiences. History teaches us that tragedy and comedy can sit comfortably side-byside.
And we still have our music. On Wednesday, Coldplay’s Chris Martin live-streamed an impromptu gig from his house.
‘‘For someone with anxiety, the coronavirus reporting has been stressful, and it feels as if I can never relax,’’ one fan commented. ‘‘Thanks for the work you do to lift our spirits.’’
Entertainment, however, will get us only so far. We also need stories that point towards a hopeful future.
American TV icon Fred Rogers once told his school-age audience: ‘‘When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me: ‘Look for the helpers’.’’
We’re surrounded by helpers, working tirelessly to protect New Zealand and secure its future. These people can remind us of our humanity, and their stories should be elevated above the doom and gloom.
Digital media allows us to create our own content and share it with each other. Conversations about our shared values – like gratitude, creativity and community – are more important than ever.
We don’t have to rely on politicians or experts to shape the narratives around this crisis. Each of us has the authority to choose tales of resilience and recovery over fear and panic.
Our lips can spread the virus, but our keyboards can spread the stories that will heal us.
Jehan Casinader is a television journalist.
Many of us are drowning in an endless stream of breaking news alerts, updates, warnings and predictions. For the first time in history, humans are watching a global catastrophe unfold in slowmotion – minute by minute, click by click.