No news is good news, Faris

Paolo Kernahan

No news is good news, Faris

Minister of brushin' cutlass Faris Al-Rawi recently suggested Trinis are "hooked" on bad news.

While there's little evidence of this, there is far more evidence that Trinis have an addiction to bad governance.

Al-Rawi, speaking at the launch of Southex, said he "recently" did an exercise of looking at the front pages of the TT newspapers for 365 days. He compiled them and came to his conclusion – this country is freebasing negativity (my words, not his).

Perhaps it's a good thing his new portfolio frees him up to do such polls.

It should be made clear, though, that there is no good news or bad news, there's just news: information gathered and processed to keep the public up to speed with what's happening in this country.

Al-Rawi's suggestion that media houses should put Southex on the front pages was embarrassing.

The minister of rural decay and local neglect echoed a sentiment common among simple politicians – the media push bad news to make them look bad.

This is a classic case of cursing the fire that cooks the food but burns the hand.

When I worked as a journalist back in the bronze age, obsequious opposition politicians would hold you in interminable news conferences that were ultimately devoid of any news value. They would call you on the phone like they were a-courtin' with hollow tips that could scarcely fill out a lead, far less an entire story. When they eventually got into office, the same folks would look at your microphone like you were shoving a dead pigeon in their faces.

Political aspirants and opposition hacks click their heels in glee when the media expose the corruption and incompetence of the sitting government. When the spotlight shifts to them, illuminating their hypocrisy and omissions of duty, the media become agents of the government.

Additionally, what Al-Rawi isn't likely to discover on his own is that there's lots of "bad news" on the front pages because lots of terrible events and horrifying occurrences are stalking the land. A fair number of them are a direct consequence of the cumulative effects of failed governance – in which he has played no small part.

As the saying goes, it's always darkest before it goes completely black. With murderers claiming the lives of innocent civilians every day, with home invaders viciously clobbering an octogenarian to the point of blindness, with bloodthirsty killers wiping out four children without a second thought – it's hard to see how Southex could take top billing over any one of the fresh horrors darkening our doorstep.

The idea that citizens have a specific appetite for negative stories isn't borne out by reality. Perhaps the largest mainstay of domestic economic activity in this country hinges on escapism. Trinis spend countless billions (much of it borrowed) feting, playing mas, liming and eating out. If you put a large barrel filled with ice at the end of any street, chances are you'd have a crowded blocko on your hands within half an hour.

That's right! Trinis go to great lengths to avoid "bad news," to numb themselves to the harsh realities of living in an island paradise in terminal decline.

Director of Mental Health at the Ministry of Health Dr Hazel Othello says it's ok to take a mental-health day.

Where's the LOL button on this thing? The mental-health day has been part of Trini culture before "mental health" was even a thing. It is, in part, why two out of three cashiers are out of office at *name government agency here.* It's why on any given day of the week there's a ring stove and a river lime next to a stream of water as shallow as a leak.

Trinis are natural escape artists. We cover our eyes and ears to block out the raging inferno of daily calamities around us.

Perhaps it might be a better use of the minister's time if he focused his energy on being a force for good governance, rather than trying to warp reality; that's if he can spare the hours from his rigorous polling. Putting him on the front page in his tightest "fit" isn't going to take away the truth of who we've become.

The front page of most newspapers is a mirror – a reflection of who we are. If you don't like what you see in the mirror, you must do the work to change it.