Reporter, on this your day I remind you it’s all a jungle out here

Journalist Fernando Rodrigues’s post is quite a heartburn on Reporter’s Day. From now on, it joins my sacred canon of the profession, like a Pauline letter that has its dissonances.

Journalism, even if it does not draw on Critical Theory, from which countless phenomena and behaviors can be named, or on any other theory, has in it a look at the world that asks objective questions, among them “why do we exist?”.

The reporter of the future, unlike the pornographic one (Han, 2017), will have to, before very elaborate discussions, turn to vocabulary. It is as if the iconic “summer-vacationer” or “reveler” habits had gotten out of control.

Access to modest cultural products, such as those offered by digital influencers, or even well-produced television programs with hyperbole that never ends, or the very poor sertanejo rhymes about an obstinate love when not a violent one, must be part of the repertoire. But when those elements are the only glasses through which to see the world, there is no good communication, let alone journalism.

When U2 released the album “No Line on the Horizon,” I remarked to a songwriter friend that I had found it sad, sadder than the previous one, back in 2008. Her answer stuck with me: “we are not getting better.” [Three lines from Vinicius de Moraes’s “O dia da criação” follow in the Portuguese version and are not reproduced here. They say that, on the contrary, we must be logical, often dogmatic, face the problem of moral and aesthetic positions, be social, cultivate habits, laugh without wanting to and even make love without wanting to.]

Our craft requires more depth from us, not less. It requires more real empathy, not a superficial remark about a subject I do not even agree with that much but I understand you (actually you understand nothing).

Suicide among the elderly, overcoming grief, childhood depression, pornography as illness, bank violence are some of the topics that will be on the agenda-setting tomorrow. And they must not be treated with silly puns.

More like this: “Now that I am a complete man, I am full of voids.”

Courage, reporters. Out here it is all still a jungle.