These are recent headlines from a single day’s Times of India in Delhi: ‘Missing four year old girl’s body found in drain’, ‘Man murders girlfriend in hotel room’, ‘Two arrested for robbing man’, ‘Man falls off terrace, dies’, ‘Child among three dead in fire’, and ‘Cabbie beheaded by wife and her lover’. Our newspapers have become a grim ledger of the horrors of our society. They also reveal much about the mechanics of the news industry and the voyeuristic psychology of the reading public.
This daily preoccupation with blood reveals our society undergoing a rapid and often violent transformation. Many of these crimes, particularly those involving domestic betrayals or murders in hotel rooms, reflect the psychological pressures of modern urban life as traditional support systems erode. Some stories point to an infrastructure of negligence where human life is frequently treated as a cheap commodity. These are not always simple accidents; they are often indictments of a system where safety protocols and social safety nets are bypassed in the rush of urbanisation.
For a major national newspaper, this focus on crime is partly driven by commercial necessity. In a digital age where attention is the primary currency, crime stories provide high-octane content that captures the eye. Indian journalism has developed a mastery of the ‘hyper-local’ crime report, often mimicking the language of a police FIR. This creates a ‘theatre of the real’ where the visceral details—the beheadings and the sleaze—tap into a primal human interest in deviance. However, the danger is that such reporting often stops at the surface, providing shock without substance and headlines without investigation.
The mirror also turns towards us, the readers. We consume these stories for a variety of reasons, ranging from a subconscious ‘safety check’ of our surroundings to a darker sense of catharsis. Reading about tragedy from the safety of our morning tea provides a brief jolt of adrenaline that cuts through the monotony of daily life. Yet, by rewarding this sensationalism with our attention, we inadvertently encourage a media landscape where systemic issues like mental health, urban planning, and poverty are overlooked in favour of the next dramatic headline.
Could our media evolve from sensationalist reporting to constructive journalism that seeks to move the reader from a state of passive fear to one of informed civic engagement? Instead of the grisly details of ‘Missing four year old girl’s body found in drain’, could the reporter investigate why the drain was left uncovered, track the history of municipal neglect in that specific area, and provide a safety audit map of the neighbourhood to pressure local authorities for infrastructure repairs? Similarly, could ‘Child among three dead in fire’ move beyond the body count to analyse the city’s fire safety compliance? A better journalistic approach would involve an investigative piece on how many buildings in that city have bypassed required certifications and guide readers on how to spot fire hazards in their own buildings. By adopting this social impact model, Indian newspapers can transform from being mere chroniclers of death into vital instruments of public safety. Instead of leaving the reader with a sense of helplessness and cynicism, the news would provide the tools—data, accountability, and examples of reform—necessary to demand a better society. When journalism treats a crime not as an inevitable tragedy but as a preventable systemic failure, it restores the dignity of the victim and the agency of the reader. It moves us from being a nation of voyeurs to a nation of active citizens.
To move towards a more constructive form of journalism, the industry must shift from merely documenting ‘what happened’ to exploring ‘why it keeps happening’. Rather than relying solely on police briefings, newspapers could adopt the principles of constructive journalism, focusing on the socio-economic roots of crime and highlighting successful community interventions or policy failures. By framing crime as a social issue rather than just a sequence of lurid events, journalism can fulfil its role as a catalyst for change rather than a mere spectator of tragedy. We deserve a news cycle that informs our conscience as much as it alerts our fears.
editor@theweek.in