The power that the media wields today is enormous. Its ability to form perceptions, to create a collective conscience, to normalise the unusual or uncommon, and to control the political, social and cultural narrative of a nation makes it one of the most useful instruments to bring about change. But what happens when the media refuses to let go of tired narratives? When it, subconsciously or on purpose, perpetuates sexist and dangerous notions? When it puts the hunger of its sensation- starved readership or viewership above responsible representation?  Â
 In 2018, the murder of a young female tourist in New Zealand shocked the citizens of the country. Even whilst the national and international implications of the crime were dawning upon people, certain facts about the young victim began to emerge. The media began its own trial, interviewing the victimâs ex-boyfriends and her friends. Phrases like âother sexual partnersâ, âa fan of 50 Shades of Grey’ and ânaĂŻve and trusting girlâ were thrown around by mainstream media portals, thereby establishing and publicising an image of a young woman who could not even argue her case anymore. The repeated invasions into her private life were hardly condemned, instead, they were celebrated by the journalists as âexclusivesâ.
Content analysis of the coverage of women victims of crime by the media establishes a disturbing and recurring pattern. Researcher Daisy Richards, writing for The Conversation, describes how studies prove that women victims are far more likely to be infantilised in news articles, an example being the constant reference to them by their first names (a practice which is generally reserved for children and pets). The lack of agency issued to women doesnât stop here: they are usually implied to be dependents, and attempts are made to situate them in a domestic or familiar context. Another example of the politics of linguistics is connected to the passivity assigned to women in reports; articles tend to use phrases like ââthe woman was killed by the convictââ repeatedly. While this language is acceptable and should be encouraged when the accused is not found guilty, once guilt has been established, it is advocated by journalists to flip the narrative to ââthe convict killed the woman.ââ Phrasing matters; the latter brings to light the agency and brutality in the actions of the convict.
The impact of coverage like this is not superficial; words hold power, and the constant drumming of certain messages and ideas over a period of time helps shape a larger picture. Studies suggest that the constant speculation over individual victims lends to a greater narrative of victim-blaming. Sometimes, the grammar of victim- blaming is overt. But more often, itâs covert, hiding behind implications, skulking in the shadows of speculation. Women are not only analysed minutely, but efforts are made to establish their credibility as victims. The search for the âperfect victimâ and subsequent vilification of all others who do not fit this bill, feeds into the misogynistic Madonna-whore perspective.
The media and the society scrutinize the actions of victims, painstakingly raking over their pasts, even role-playing them in extreme examples. The crucial point here is this: itâs the duty of the investigating bodies to seek out information about the victim, to establish certain facts in order to make the investigation process efficient and fast. But when the media does it, it does so with a different purpose in mind: for eyeballs, clicks, and profit.
This issue is not simply limited to the politics of language; it has real world implications. When the media only takes up certain cases of violence or crimes against women, when it publicizes their names and images and when it documents their life history extensively, it ends up making women the (passive) faces of crime. The entire focus shifts to individual women, instead of the larger politico-economic- social structure which often ignores or even leads to violence against women. This prevents the analysis of a larger, deep-rooted reality of systematic oppression and violence, rendering most discussions surface-level. By treating these cases as episodic and not systematic cases of violence, the media ends up hindering constructive dialogue.
 On a slightly more optimistic note, I find it necessary to note that most responsible media outlets in India now cover instances of violence against women by according primacy for availing justice for the victim, as well as by questioning societal norms and pressurising the political class to address and help dismantle these structures. There is clearly, as noted by Richards, a cultural appetite for cases involving women victims. Social scientists in the United States state that the extensive media coverage accorded to young, upper-middle-class white women who are victims of crime is disproportionately larger than that accorded to women of colour, lower-class women, members of the transgender community and even men. From an intersectional point of view, this is a major cause of concern, and gender/race justice activists have been rallying for greater and more empathetic representation. Similar parallels can be drawn in India as well. Furthermore, the fact that male victims also receive disproportionately less attention proves that the cost of such coverage is not just borne by women, but by the society at large.
While certain media outlets seem to have begun to acknowledge and address these inconsistencies in their coverage, it is essential that the rest also reject the huge damage that is inflicted on the society when the appetites of readers/viewers are prioritised over responsible journalism and follow suit.