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When the news is too much



Every year, more and more people are switching off from the news - in Australia at faster rates than just about anywhere else in the world.


"It's overload. It's too confusing. It's just too distressing. You can't tell what's true anymore."


It's not just the difficult nature of what we're absorbing. It's the sense that we're powerless to do anything about it.

In a post I shared last week, I suggested that it's okay not to have an opinion about everything - that humans are incapable of understanding, investing in and empathising with more than a handful of select issues beyond their daily lives; that the proliferation of people feeling compelled to speak about issues sometimes adds to the noise rather than the light, and that resisting the urge to contribute to every conversation opens space to amplify voices who have the most to offer.


This view isn't a blank cheque not to know or to care. Instead, it offers an opportunity for us to hone in on what really matters to us, where we can have the most impact and how we choose to engage. This has the potential to make us more compassionate and effective, not less.

How do we fight feeling helpless in the face of unrelentingly bad news?


  1. Take control of what you focus on

What's your news and information strategy? If you're like most of us, you probably don't have one. There are so many opportunities to engage with the world literally at our fingertips that we just tend to drop in and out whenever we have the opportunity.


An intentional strategy, though, can help us take back a sense of control when things feel overwhelming.


I'm trying to keep my daily info diet confined to specific sources in regular time slots: a couple of general news takes plus take a deeper dive into things I'm committed to or in which I've taken a random interest (like Fat Bear Week for example, which is obviously critical knowledge.) All up, I reckon I consume between 1-2 hours of news each day, more on weekends or if I'm not working.


There are some things I actively avoid- I very rarely watch TV or online video and I'm trying really hard not to get sucked into notifications that pop up on my phone. On social media, I'm deliberately looking for (and passing on) interesting insights into people's lives, humour and beauty. I regularly cull who and what I follow but I also try to keep a small amount of content in my feed that I find difficult or disagree with. This is an attempt to avoid the 'echo chamber' effect, where my own views are endlessly repeated and I forget how much of the world is experiencing life very differently.


And there are some things I prioritise: like content that gives me new skills and insights - how to listen better, frame ideas, understand my own and others' thinking and emotional reactions. I regularly check out a couple of sites that are dedicated to positive journalism as well. (List of my faves at the bottom, let me know yours)


Bottom line - the best place to start overcoming powerlessness is by taking charge of what we're exposed to and acknowledging the choices we're making, either consciously or unconsciously. This gives us back a sense of purpose and helps build the skills we need to keep engaging. (Plus, obviously, we also need cat videos and quirky posts from friends.)



2. Where can you have the most impact?

Part of the despair of 'news overwhelm' is feeling we have no capacity to respond or create change. While this might be broadly true, it's not the whole story. It depends on where we focus.


Typically, the issues we're most interested in and where we hold the most influence are those that impact us directly. That's why so many people are happy (and feel good about) raising funds for breast cancer, volunteering at their kids school, advocating for things like better aged care/disability inclusion or speaking up about oppression/injustice within their religious or cultural groups. Don't under-estimate this power; stay involved.


I grew up in a tradition, though, that emphasised being a voice for the voiceless and seeking justice for people others forgot. This led me to invest in international issues of aid and development, refugees and asylum seekers and indigenous rights - not areas that arose out of my own context. Since then, I've developed friendships with people in these groups and like to hope I can be a bridge to people and places that might otherwise be hard to access... But I'm also aware that there's an opportunity cost in choosing to focus so far out of the sphere of the experiences of many friends and relatives. I talk about this a bit here: How I became a member of the woke elite. In summary, I acknowledge that there's an inherent privilege in being able to focus on 'big picture' issues and that those of us who work primarily in these spheres can be a little dismissive of those who don't. This opens up a divide that's unhelpful all round.


Bottom line: I increasingly believe in the model of spheres of influence, concern and control. For me, the ability to filter what I'm exposed to and what I can take responsibility for creates a much more manageable and motivating way of engaging with the world and its pain. This doesn't preclude advocating in areas beyond my own experience; it just means being conscious of what I'm choosing to focus on, when and why.



3. How do you want to engage?


There are lots of different ways to engage with issues. We don't live in a dichotomous world where there's only 'speaking out' or 'doing nothing.'


I love Bill Moyer's model of activism in which different personalities are drawn to different roles: citizen, rebel, reformer and change agent. Successful social movements utilise all the different roles; each respects the skills, personality and approaches of the other.


I think I started out as a rebel, drawn to protest, public statements and a scary degree of certainty about my own views. And we need that. We need anger and strength and stridency, particularly to keep items on the agenda and motivate those who respond well to emotional calls to action.


But over thirty five years, I've tried to complement this with citizen and change agent roles, which are less vocal and less public. Sometimes there are ways to address issues I really care about directly - I can write a specific letter, sign a petition, attend a protest, hold an event, engage with an asylum seeker family, make a donation.


In addition to this, I've tried to increase working toward intentionally upholding the values I'm so often seeing smashed in news from around the world. I try (sometimes quite badly) to listen and provide support without necessarily taking sides; offer a moment of levity; invite someone for a meal; remember someone who's feeling forgotten; shut up and breathe before reacting; discuss things from a starting point of empathy instead of judgement; check my anger; believe the best in people.


Is that enough? Not on its own. That's why social change requires different actors playing different parts, and different emphasis' at different times. But every conflict, every selfish injustice begins with ordinary people who are disconnected from each other and who fail to see how much their lives matter. When we are beloved citizens, trusted and known by other members of the community - especially those with whom we disagree - we can help build back what's being torn down. The key is being purposeful about it and knowing when to shift gears.


Bottom line:

When news feels overwhelming, take a step back. Ask what matters most to you and be intentional about pursing it. Be responsible for how you engage - shout if you want to, whisper, provide wordless support. Just keep doing what you can, with what you have, where you are - over the long haul.


This is how we're all more likely to stay engaged with compassion and hope for the years and years and years required to create change.


And that's what we desperately need in a world that can easily appear far more broken than beautiful.


A couple of go- to sources:







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