I occasionally cite A Current Affairs (ACA) programme on the Nine Network in Australia to show students the unanticipated consequences of 'gotcha journalism’ on the source and the reporter - especially when the little guy, entrapped by the media to expose their flawed character, kill themselves.

The ACA story I cite is about a Filipino television repairman, Benny Mendoza, who was caught on a hidden camera by ACA for ripping off his customers. Shamed by the expose, Mendoza publicly apologised but later committed suicide, leaving behind his wife and two children. (Read here on how the reporter, Jane Hansen, dealt with the tragic consequences of her story, and how it changed her takes on ethical journalism).

A thin line separates thoughtful rigorous investigative reporting in the Woodward-Bernstein genre that exposes political corruption and abuse of power, from that which lays bare the dirty habits of celebrities or dishonest costing by smalltime repairmen such as Mendoza.

Prime time television is highly competitive. The sexier and glitzier the risque reports, the higher its ratings. Hence, programmes such as ACA and related reality shows pander to public curiosity, stereotypes and voyeurism to stay ahead of the pack. ‘Current affairs’ television is akin to a wolf in sheep’s clothing - studio setting and entertainment creatively dressed up as “news” by a pseudo news anchor.

Tabloid journalism, despite the pejorative term, may be populist but if done well they can be informative when it exposes a building contractor or food manufacturer for breaching safety and health standards and educates the public on the relevant laws and how to report fraudsters to the authorities.  

The problem arises when consumers mistake “infotainment” and dramatization of unverifiable stories on tabloid television as authoritative journalism. For instance the ACA story about two female passengers having a fling in 2011 with MAS pilots. Edward R Murrow, broadcaster from CBS during the anti-Communist witch-hunt by Senator Joe McCarthy in the 50s, famously said: “We cannot make good news out of bad practice.”

Should Malaysiakini and the local media check out the ACA story? Yes because the claims, if they were true, carry grave implications on the security guidelines of MAS and the professional conduct of its pilots. Multiple fact checks and reflecting on the story’s assumptions is always good practice. Jumping the gun to break the story is not. With social media, being first is no longer an imperative. Being accurate, rigorous, ethical and respectful is what defines quality journalism in crisis reporting.

Is the ACA story fair and ethical? Certainly not - especially when MH370 is still missing. Secondly, the girls claims are unverifiable nor their motives completely clear. Were they paid for the interview given that chequebook journalism is part of ACA standard practice? Did they sound truthful? I think not.

Should the local media carry the story? No. At least not now when families are in despair, especially the families of the pilots whose character is now sullied in the public mind and memory.

'Cheap and nasty tabloid journalism'

Regardless of the story’s currency, there comes a time when journalists need to sit back and reflect on the consequences of what they write, not least the recycling of a story from a programme known for “cheap and nasty tabloid journalism”.

My reaction to the ACA story, which I read in the midst of an international media conference on March 12 in Yangon was oh no, not again. ACA is known for its inaccurate reporting and habitual invasion of privacy. The Australian Communications and Media Authority have penalised the programme for its unethical practices, which at times reek of racism. An online petition had even attempted to get ACA’s “twisted and biased” reporting axed. As a media critic described, the competition for ratings has led to the proliferation of 'commercial crap' racing to the bottom of dubious journalism. 

While ACA’s team of reporters do what many tabloid journalists do - pound the streets with a camera crew to chase after a tradesman suspected of fraud or knock on the door of a suspect wife-beater - their definition of “public interest” veer more towards crass infotainment and tacky dramatisation than illumination of the many causes of complex socio-political issues and human drama. When for example ABC 7.30 report is interviewing the immigration minister or a human rights activist on the welfare of detainees in Manus Island, ACA is busy reporting a celebrity fad diet or a used car conman.

How could have the local media handled the ACA story? Short of spiking it, copy editors could cut out the crap and tacky recollection of the female passengers and focus on MAS  reaction to the ACA report, like how it did in this story. The greatest error that journalists could make is unthinkingly recycling a complete story without checking the reliability and credibility of the source. A foreign media report does not necessarily mean the story’s accurate and truthful in context and contents.

Aung Yan Suu Kyi in launching the Suu Foundation in Yangon on March 9 alluded to the twin concepts in journalism - freedom and responsibility. She said something along the line of Buddha’s teachings: “If you propose to speak, always ask yourself, is it true, is it necessary, is it kind?”

Siddharta Gautama also said: “Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it (or) … it was spoken and rumoured by many, written in your religious texts, or merely on the authority of teachers and elders. Believe not in traditions because they have been handed down for generations. But after observation and analysis, if anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, accept it and live up to it.”

While we bank on protecting our freedom of expression and our rights to information as central in uncovering the truth, the bottom line is this: ethical reporting during a  crisis that involves human despair and hope, life and death, is less about unbridled expression but a constrained form of reporting where content generation, story telling and its dissemination is understood in the context of accountability, fairness, sensitivity and minimisation of harm - in the case of MH370, the stories’ impact on the families of those on board.

My heart and prayers are with them as I leave Yangon for Sydney this afternoon on MH743.


ERIC LOO left Malaysia for Australia in 1986 to work as a journalist. He currently lectures at University of Wollongong, Australia, and serves on the advisory committee of UPI Next, a journalism education and training platform run by United Press International. He edits a refereed journal Asia Pacific Media Educator and conducts journalism training workshops in Asia. Email: eloo@uow.edu.au