We have disrupted the script used by mass killers before. Today, that matters more than ever
One of Jason Winter’s last acts on this earth was throwing a tray at someone pointing a rifle at his wife, Joanne, and their 15-month-old son. He saved their lives. He was killed a short time later.
Anthony Nightingale’s last words were spoken to save those around her: “No, no, she’s not here,” she pleaded.
Carol Loughton was shot while her body covered her daughter. He is exposed and exposed to the gunman, only trying to save Sarah’s life. Carol survived her injuries, but Sarah did not.
Tony Kistan died while desperately helping his wife escape; Peter Crosswell dragged his two friends to the ground.
Nannette Mikac was a tour guide in Port Arthur. He brought his children for a picnic that day. When the gunshots started, he was heard trying to console his daughter while running and saying, “We’re safe now, pumpkin.”
Shortly after, his last words were directed solely towards saving the lives of his children.
There were at least 60 people in and around the Broad Arrow cafe at that moment. Australia’s deadliest mass shooting could actually have been much worse.
How many lives did Ian Kingston or Brigid Cook save? We never know. But they did their best, shouted, treated and calmed. When the shooting stopped, other people ran into the cafe. Into the blood and chaos to see who they can help.
How many lives were saved in moments lost in time because stories, sacrifice and courage died with people who spent their last breaths in service and love?
The stories we choose to tell
“Don’t say his name on the radio.”
“Really?”
“If you say his name, your message line will make the audience tell you exactly that: don’t say his name.”
Long before I started investigating mass shootings, I had an ABC radio program that was broadcast throughout Western Australia.
As someone who came to this country as an immigrant, it was a place where I was still trying to find its rhythm. My colleague (and now wife) told me this. Honestly, I don’t even remember why or when. But it’s stuck.
Then, as we looked at the specter of mass murder through the prism of how it was reported, with each examination of each murder, each horror, and each desperate quest to understand this monstrous crime, its power grew.
I studied 2000 years of mass random murders. From the first mass shootings: from 1903 in Kansas to 1913 in Germany and 1924 in Melbourne.
The “first” modern mass shooting: 60 years ago (this August), at the University of Texas.
To Christchurch and Bondi Junction and Bondi Beach.
Let me tell you the secret: We never know why.
For every deep dive into background, mental state, manifestos, social media posts, remembered comments, diaries, letters, family and friends. We’ll never really know.
We guess. This is a noble cause. But we never get there. We guess. And to help us guess, we tell you all about the killer; we dive deep into the past, state of mind, manifestos, social media posts, remembered comments, diaries, letters, family and friends.
If we tell you about the killer, do we tell you why this happened?
No. We’re just speculating. The problem is in the way we do this.
“Apparently the more people you kill, the more attention you get,” wrote the perpetrator of the 2015 mass shooting at Umpqua Community College in Oregon (9 people were killed).
“You will know who I am when you see me on the news,” wrote the perpetrator of the 2018 mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida (where 17 people were killed).
Victims of the Port Arthur Massacre
- Winifred Joyce Aplin, 58
- Walter John Bennett, 66
- Nicole Louise Burgess, 17
- Sou Leng Chung, 32
- Elva Rhonda Gaylard, 48
- Zoe Anne Hall, 28
- Elizabeth Jayne Howard, 26
- Mary Elizabeth Howard, 57
- Mervyn John Howard, 55
- Ronald Noel Jary, 71
- Tony Vadivelu Kistan, 51
- Leslie Dennis Lever, 53
- Sarah Kate Loughton, 15
- David Martin, 72
- Noelene “Sally” Joyce Martin, 69
- Pauline Virjeana Masters, 49
- Alannah Louise Mikac, 6
- Madeline Grace Mikac, 3
- Nanette Patricia Mikac, 36
- Andrew Bruce Mills, 39
- Peter Brenton Nash, 32
- Gwenda Joan Neander, 67
- Moh Yee (William) Ng, 48
- Anthony Nightingale, 44
- Mary Rose Nixon, 60
- Glenn Roy Armut, 35
- Russell James Pollard, 72
- Janette Kathleen Quin, 50
- Helene Maria Salzmann, 50
- Robert Graham Salzmann, 57
- Kate Elizabeth Scott, 21
- Kevin Vincent Keskin, 68
- Raymond John Sharp, 67
- Royce William Thompson, 59
- Jason Bernard Winter, 29
The only certainty we have about motive is what the killers tell us over and over again. If you’re a gun-toting loner, if you believe you’re worth more than society gives you, if you want to be remembered, we’ve given you a clear path.
Mass attack researchers call this scenario coverage area. Who was the killer? Why did he do this? Here’s everything we know about them.
It created this phenomenon. It is perishable. There was an interruption here.
There was general disgust throughout the country in the aftermath of Port Arthur; At the forefront of this response were grieving Tasmanians who tried to keep the focus where it belonged: on the victims; survivors; families; healing of the community; legislative response.
Afterwards Mercury When they published a picture of the killer on the front page of the newspaper with the headline “This man,” two things happened: the Director of Public Prosecutions threatened them with contempt of court charges if the story led to a mistrial; and a member of the paper’s leadership team told me the phone had gone dead.
Readers across the state were outraged.
“Take that bastard off the front page,” they said.
There was a steely determination amidst the terror and pain. This seeped into the wider public consciousness, and the murderer became what he was: pathetic, scorned, ignored.
Instead of what he wanted to be: monstrous, powerful, remembered.
Breaking the script saved lives. He told potential murderers that they would not get the fame they sought. It can and should be seen as as meaningful and effective as gun control.
This is now more important than ever.
There are more guns in Australia now than there were at the time of the Port Arthur massacre. Mass murder is back in this country.
We are losing the legacy of the response to that day 30 years ago.
Changes
It’s easy to see media coverage and culture as a free-for-all frenzy. Far from it. The best outlets are thoughtful and evidence-based. They are trying to serve the public interest.
Thanks to increasing global research on the relationship between media coverage and motivation for mass shootings, changes in editorial policies have been made by many major publications over the years.
Here in Australia they include:
ABC Editorial Policies
Whenever possible, the focus of reporting should be on victims and survivors.
Avoid accidentally glorifying terrorists or mass murderers.
Use the perpetrator’s photo and name with caution, especially in follow-up stories.
MEAA Code of Ethics
Extremists seek to use the media as a platform for their actions. Do your best to prevent this.
Ask yourself whether it is necessary to identify the perpetrators and, if so, how much is needed.
In New Zealand, in the wake of Christchurch, five news organizations came together in an unprecedented fashion to coordinate coverage of the case and avoid giving the killer the platform he sought.
The change happened and undoubtedly saved lives.
In the wake of Bondi Beach and Christchurch and the sovereign citizen movement and the proliferation of gun ownership, today is a good day to remember what the response to Port Arthur has taught us: We decide what stories we tell.
Dr Glynn Greensmith is a senior lecturer in journalism at Curtin University and author of Mass Shootings, Media and Motive: How changing the news can save lives.
