Armchair journalism or journalist

When someone said I was an armchair journalist I had to bring proof to show that I was not. Now recently, that word popped up in my mind again after seeing living proof of armchair journalism. I just witnessed an armchair journalist in the making.

Now I would not mind if someone were copying verbatim from a press handout because MOST journalists have mastered this art, but writing on something as sensitive a subject as child labour from the confines of your office workstation raises my hackles no end. To top it, this journalist, I dare say that this journalist is a blot on the sacred word, cheekily admits that the report was just a hotch-potch not serious stuff, not focussed. This is really taking armchair journalism to new heights.

Now if I was the sub-editor, incharge of the supplement where this child labour story was supposed to be taken, I would have just thrown the story out of the window. I would not have even kept it in the waste bin. (On second thoughts, it is probably because of this wild side in me, I am still subbing copies on the General Desk.)

When writing on sensitive subjects like human rights, the least I expect the writer is go to the field, not to interview those children who are scavenging in the dust bins of Bangalore, but atleast for name-sake to go meet someone outside the office. You know, just to remove the tag of armchair journalism. But no, there is this armchair journalist (AJ), happily typing away some emails to some other armchair activist (AA to make things easier for me) sitting in some airconditioned office, who probably has never seen a starving and undernourished child slogging it out for a square meal. Then that AA promptly replies to the mail by AJ. For good measure, that AA calls up on the mobile telephone (yea, our AJ has given the contact number which is a mobile number, what an irony) and they are speaking to each other as if they can save the whole lot of children. Then, I am told that this AA is fighting for the rights of some child who incidentally laboured for a television ad. IF this is not ridiculous, then tell me what is? A child figured in a TV ad, who would have got enough money to act in that, making the child's parent feel proud and they will probably be laughing all the way to the bank. And here we have this child rights activist who wants to fight against child labour on television. Great going.

Coming back to our AJ. So the email is over. Then the browsing begins. By the way, now these sequence of events of how to become a good armchair journalist need not be followed in the order that I am describing. So our AJ hits the google button on the internet explorer. Hey presto you have a whole lot of dough at the click of a button which tell you all about child labour. No sweat man, good going. Just copy paste all the relevant data and your story's word count is swelling to a respectable number. And you are just beginning to warm up to the subject.

Having exhausted the google info, now we turn to good ole books. Now they are the veritable bank of information, all hard copy. It cannot be wrong. Now a book can be in any size, shape. It could even be just a tiny lil' booklet. Does not matter, as long as it contains what you need, mind you not what the reader needs, or for that matter not what the child on the street thinks should be told about them. So there you are, just flip the pages here and there and then just begin the clickety-clack exercise of rattling up a lot of noise on the computer keyboard. After all, everybody should know that you are working, is n't it? Even if nobody is there, atleast you get the satisfaction of banging the keyboard instead of banging your head over the lack of ideas and the lack of focus.

Having done all this, now is the time to take the coffee break and get some fresh air to clear up the guilt of having done a story without moving the butt an inch.

(more on AJs in part II)