Reporting Cyclone Debbie
Information or spectacle?
by Erin Maclean
Even though we currently live in a period of ‘fake news’ and ‘post-truth politics’, a time when media trust is at an all-time low, journalists continue to provide a crucial service to the public. This is especially the case in times of disaster, when they coordinate with politicians to convey key warnings and evacuation plans.
Social media certainly assists authorities and communities in rapidly disseminating information, but there is an expectation that official news sources will carefully collect, curate and communicate what the public needs to know.
Last month, the round-the-clock coverage of Tropical Cyclone Debbie and the flooding in Queensland and northern New South Wales was hard to miss. It dominated local news for more than a week and caught national attention when the Channel 7 and 9 breakfast shows broadcast their leading anchors from the landfall sites in Central and North Queensland.
The 24/7 coverage followed the convention of recent cyclones and, as the ratings suggest, kept viewers aware of official messages from the Bureau of Meteorology, the Queensland Police Service, politicians and other authorities. However, the absurdity of journalists struggling through live crosses in category four cyclonic winds once again sparked online debate about how appropriate it is for journalists to potentially put themselves in harm’s way and hijack televisions around the state for such long periods of time.
Channel 7’s Brisbane anchor Kay McGrath addressed the criticism immediately after the Cyclone Debbie coverage, insisting it is “unfair” to target television presenters who are doing the best they can to provide up-to-date information in extraordinary circumstances — even if there is some occasional over-acting.
I tend to agree. However, at what point does breaking news coverage of an unfolding disaster shift from being imperfectly informative to constituting “disaster porn”? I’d say when the television crews embrace “a bit of theatre” to boost ratings and the politicians, in an attempt to score brownie points with voters, help them.
What happened? The basics
Let’s start with the facts. Cyclone Debbie was a category four system that crossed the Central and North Queensland coast towards the end of the cyclone season. Though Queensland almost dodged summer’s typical natural disasters, a cyclone of Debbie’s scale was not unexpected or unusual in the areas affected.
In the days leading up to the event, news stations worked closely with official sources to report on Debbie’s impending landfall — making predictions about the time of landfall and the scale of the cyclone when it would hit. As the cyclone approached, the coverage developed into regular breaking news segments across the country. These involved occasional messages from Queensland Premier Annastacia Palaszczuk and local authorities, but increasingly relied on reporters in the field to devise interesting updates of their own.
The constant coverage lasted almost a week, which social media pundits (and the internet’s conspiracy theorists) have suggested was an “over-reaction” for an almost yearly disaster.
But in reality Cyclone Debbie was a significant natural disaster and constituted more than the landfall event. It also included the extreme weather and flooding that followed down Australia’s east coast. Reports indicate 12 lives were lost, making it the deadliest cyclone in Australia since 1974’s Cyclone Tracy.
The internet is quick to criticise, but the aftermath is proving that news outlets and our politicians were right to treat Cyclone Debbie as a major news event for the days that the disaster unfolded.
What was needed? Information
While morning shows supposedly “live for big stories like this” due to the ratings, natural disasters are a key time for our politicians to “shine”. They become obvious sources of leadership and vital information, when journalists are scrambling to fill airtime and the public is desperate to know what is happening.
During Cyclone Debbie, Palaszczuk maintained high visibility — not only of herself as Premier, but also of her leading ministers. Even while Palaszczuk toured the devastation in northern Queensland, Acting Premier Jackie Trad was announcing the closure of South East Queensland schools as a result of flooding. Of course, the decision was criticised for being excessive (and the late notice didn’t help), but the rolling news coverage guaranteed maximum reach for the message at an otherwise confusing time.
The next day, Palaszczuk visited the region south of Brisbane, where there was unprecedented flooding of the Albert and Logan rivers. Constant updates with local authorities about the predicted river peaks meant residents were kept mostly aware of the rapidly changing situation. This was also the case for northern New South Wales and Rockhampton, days after Debbie was downgraded to a tropical low.
Each of these events was significant enough to attract news attention in its own right, requiring regular notifications of flood predictions and evacuation warnings.
Though social media posts and councils’ online disaster dashboards were helpful in finding out which roads were flooded, the 24/7 television news was a crucial source of information. Reporters stationed around town relayed the basics, but they also, on a fairly consistent schedule, provided live images of the flooding that were clearly up-to-date and, in cooperation with authorities, provided educated speculation on whether locals would be cut off.
No strictly factual list of flooded roads could do that, meaning it was vital that politicians worked closely with television networks (and other media) to most effectively communicate to the public.
Former Premier Anna Bligh did this so well during Queensland’s 2011 floods that it temporarily boosted her popularity. However, the prolonged aftermath of the disaster — and possibly her ongoing visibility related to that event — eventually seemed to backfire on her in the 2012 state election, as later happened with her successor Campbell Newman in the 2015 election.
As a politician or journalist, it is difficult to balance providing constant information and being visible enough to reassure residents that the matter is serious without overdoing it to the point of public backlash.
What was not needed? Spectacle
There is an important difference between the news crews (and politicians) taking Cyclone Debbie seriously and seizing it as an opportunity to milk ratings (and score political brownie points). This is where the greatest criticism arose in the cyclone’s wake, as the coverage was slammed for being mere spectacle.
This will prove especially important for Palaszczuk in the next election.
Although she utilised her ministers well to avoid overexposure, Palaszczuk’s visibility made her an easy target when Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce later blamed her for delays with flood relief. Her brief tour of northern Queensland in the aftermath may have initially been appreciated as taking the devastated communities seriously, but the blame could potentially cast her visit in a tokenistic light.
The same can be said of when Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull and Opposition Leader Bill Shorten joined forces to survey the damage from Cyclone Debbie. Though Turnbull personally washed the floor of a Lismore resident’s restaurant for the cameras, the owner cast his assistance into doubt by saying it “doesn’t seem just” that flood-affected businesses are not offered support while they rebuild.
As well intentioned as politicians may be, playing to the camera to woo voters can have the inverse effect when the follow-through is lacking; they can hurt their reputation by engaging in the production of so-called “disaster porn”.
This is something many of the television networks were slammed for, even without the politicians.
Social media lit up with complaints about reporters putting themselves in danger to provide the wettest, windiest and most dramatic footage possible. To compound the backlash, Whitsunday Shire councillor Mike Brunker seized the opportunity to chastise reporters — warning they should “pull their heads in” and be careful that a sign doesn’t decapitate them on live television.
Reporters rebuffed the commentary with images of them safely inside or otherwise protected, but the spectacle of the footage was undeniable. A letter to The Sunshine Coast Daily suggested much of the reporting was not for safety at all, describing the television reporting as “for the ghoulish entertainment for those of us who were safe and sound”.
As important as constant coverage may be to some extent, it seems an hourly update and occasional breaking news bulletin would suffice for those at home (and with power) needing information, without putting journalists in danger and turning the situation into disaster porn.
Though our politicians generally avoided spectacle, there was a clear divide between those who were milking the event for visibility and those who were focused on delivering information.
What next?
Ultimately, Cyclone Debbie’s television coverage and crisis messaging seemed appropriate and not overtly for the sake of ratings or brownie points. Media Watch agrees, hitting back at the “armchair critics”. That does not mean politicians should fly into disaster zones for meaningless photo opportunities or reporters should continue to go to extreme lengths for a dramatic live cross. There is room for improvement, especially when these disasters are devastating lives.
It should be noted, however, that the spectacle itself can be devastating — it can appear disrespectful, it can be intrusive and it can negatively affect tourism. Tourism operators in Queensland’s coastal towns have already blamed the media’s supposedly over-the-top coverage for scaring tourists away from the area.
Since this is a clear area of contention around the state, it would be wise for news crews and politicians to evaluate last month’s performance. As with former Premier Anna Bligh, the situation must be managed carefully so as to balance the public’s need for information with being respectful and not excessive — and then the months ahead must be handled well, lest it undermine the successful disaster messaging.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ERIN MACLEAN
Erin is a freelance journalist and PhD student at Griffith University.
Erin specialises in news media depictions of popular culture, but is particularly interested in the way media framing affects public perception and politics.
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