Vulture culture.
It’s the title of an album by the Alan Parsons Project and one of the upper levels in the Super Mario video game. The term “vulture culture” is also referenced in the Urban Dictionary as a work setting in which one is “picked to the bone” by a disrespectful and demanding supervisor.
I think we can extrapolate the term vulture culture to define our changing supply and demand for information in today’s technological world.
I was saddened by last week’s news that 52 year old actor James Gandolfini had died of a massive heart attack while attending a film festival in Italy. I’ve been a fan of “Tony Soprano” for years.
His poignant portrayal of a flawed Mafia Boss in HBO’s The Sopranos was great TV. More importantly, his work as a producer of films about the struggles of our servicemen and women showed incredible compassion and an apolitical advocacy that is rare in Hollywood.
Through his documentary, “Alive Day” we met both male and female veterans who had experienced near death incidents resulting in horrific disabilities. In “War Torn” he showed us the historical perspective on Post-Traumatic Stress.
I have used clips from both of those films in my training sessions with military personnel who want to include wounded warriors and others with disabilities in their programs and services.
In the days immediately after Gandolfini’s sudden death, the news outlets flooded us with his biographical information, tales of his rise to stardom, his reported diva behavior on the set after he became famous, and that he reportedly had fried prawns and 8 adult beverages at his last meal.
Did we need to know that he had several pina coladas with double shots of rum at his last meal?
Like vultures, we collectively and culturally fly in to pick at the carcass. We eat up news from TV, the internet, print media and while standing in line at the grocery store. We are fed ridiculous facts and juicy morsels of personal information.
Factoring in human nature, our morbid curiosity and our need to feel good about ourselves, the next thing you know you are feasting on the details about the final hours in someone’s life.
Journalists have debated it for centuries. What is okay to print or report and what goes beyond information and becomes gossip, gore or just plain gratuitous?
I remember the old days when the local court information was printed in the newspaper. Names, ages and charges filed in local courts each week were published in those stories. (My husband used to feign shock at how people seemed to be “arrested” in alphabetical order.)
The problem with the court list is that sometimes those people were found not guilty or the charges were dropped or changed to reflect evidence and details that were never covered in the paper.
What does “reporting” the details of someone’s last meal do to further society?
Debates about ethics in media often include the position that the public has a right to know. People will say “If you don’t like it, don’t read it.” Some will argue that the news and media are driven by demand; someone must be reading it or the news outlets couldn’t make money.
A 24/7 news cycle also means that reporters have to find stuff to write about. Others will argue that those who make their living in the spotlight in essence give up their privacy on the road to celebrity.
The advent of technology has turned the dial up — not only on how often we are given information but the volume and credibility of that information as well. Social media has taken information sharing to a new level.
We update each other, famous or not, on the mundane details of our lives. We post pictures and share details of things that used to be private or limited to our smaller social circles.
I can access the internet and therefore private details about you, your family and probably your dog through a device that I hold in my hand. The ability to make up stuff and put it out to the masses is too easy.
We are almost becoming immune to oversharing.
If Mr. Gandolfini had run over someone with a car, I might have been interested in his alcohol consumption on the evening of his death. If he had provided alcohol to minors, it probably should make the headlines. I’m not sure that what an entertainer had for dinner with colleagues on the evening before a heart attack is news worthy.
On the local level, the last two years have shown us that chewing and re-chewing the details of news can result in misinformation and negative results. People can be hurt by our over-consumption and our demand for more. To quote that famous phrase, just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
