Have we learned nothing from Black Mirror?
Have we learned nothing from Black Mirror?
A real life dystopian cautionary tale is unfolding in front of our eyes, and we can't look away.
What a funny week it’s been in Internet Land. The online world has been captivated by a search for a missing private submarine vessel, which was lost when four rich blokes (and one of their sons) embarked on an expedition to the wreck of the Titanic.
As always, when something like this happens, we all suddenly become armchair experts. It turns out I follow a good few specialists in deep-sea travel, submarine engineering and human survival skills over on Twitter. Who knew? Not me!
The advent of social media has allowed us to watch events unfold by the minute, even the second. It’s very different from how we used to receive our news, which was usually dependent on turning the TV on at the right time or catching up with something big in the next day’s newspaper.
In fact, that’s how I learned about 9/11, returning home from school and seeing the newsreel. I remember thinking how odd it was that my parents were watching a disaster movie at 3.45 pm on a Tuesday.
In 2023, the news is everywhere. Whenever pretty much anything happens, we know about it immediately - and we can even see what their family members are doing on Twitter (likely going to a Blink-182 concert). Experts appear on Reddit and Twitter, speculating about the situation. Before I knew it, I’d lost half a day of my work week scrolling, completely enraptured by the ongoing situation.
The existence of online tracking and even apps to monitor the search for the missing vessel have even gamified the event, making it into a complete circus - and one that we cannot tear our eyes away from.
Are some lives worth more than others?
There is a moral discussion ongoing about whether the victims are worthy of such efforts. The passengers went on this escapade voluntarily, and it’s thought to have cost them $250,000 each for the privilege. Internet sleuths have unearthed several interesting findings about OceanGate, the company behind the mission, and its CEO, Stockton Rush, who is among those lost in the vessel.
Apparently, health and safety was no priority. And, even if it were the safest mission in the world, who doesn’t love to hate on billionaires? I know I do. However, this is where it all gets a little too Black Mirror for me.
As the search continues, I have seen several posts comparing the hugely expensive rescue efforts to the complete disregard for a boat carrying 750 migrants which capsized in the Mediterranean Sea, making it likely one of the most deadly incidents involving refugees seeking safe passage.
Not only are those efforts nowhere near as extensive or widely covered, but there is even darker speculation about the legality of any search. One German sea captain is facing 20 years jail time and was warned that: “sea rescue missions have become criminalised.”
The truth is, the tragic disappearance and likely deaths of 750 migrants at sea simply doesn’t make for a good story. Meanwhile, the suffering of billionaires at the fate of their own poor decision-making is far too intriguing to ignore.
So, bringing this hypocrisy back to the title of this week’s email, I have to say this whole week has reminded me heavily of one of the most iconic episodes of Black Mirror.
Yes, it’s the pig one.
The first ever episode of the dystopian anthology series appeared on Channel 4 with little introduction, and many of us tuned in out of curiosity, knowing not much more than to expect a modern Twilight Zone written by Charlie Brooker.
If you saw the show when it originally aired, then you will know how much of a shock it was. I, for one, refused to watch the next few episodes until I realised they weren’t all about bestiality.
(Spoilers for season one, episode one of Black Mirror ahead)
Originally aired in 2011, “The National Anthem” starred Olivier-award-winning actor Rory Kinnear as the British Prime Minister, Michael Callow. In the episode, a mysterious figure kidnaps a member of the British royal family and Callow is forced to commit a truly horrific act upon a poor, innocent pig on live TV in exchange for her return to safety.
In one way, this reminds me of the OceanGate saga as the pressures upon Callow to carry out this act are exacerbated by the fact that a princess’s life is at stake. Her life is valued highly simply because of who she is.
The comparison continues. In the final scenes, as the nation watches Callow do the deed in disgust, we learn that the princess was actually released by her kidnapper before the PM even unzips his fly.
In both real life and Black Mirror, it seems like people are more interested in the shared voyeurism of watching such events unfold than in any real, positive resolution. If anything, there is a sick fascination with the worst possible outcome, as seen by the hundreds of tweets and Reddit posts speculating on the number of hours of oxygen remaining in the vessel, the possibility of any found footage and even theories on a ‘survival of the fittest’ scenario aboard the metal tic tac.
A real-life dystopian cautionary tale was unfolding in front of our eyes, and just like in that episode of Black Mirror, we couldn't look away.
Now we know that the vessel imploded resulting in a quick and (hopefully) painless death for the passengers, this event has already started to lose its appeal and will be likely Friday’s chip papers.
All in all, I think it’s the memefication of current events has led news outlets to focus on the ‘wrong’ stories, because they simply aren’t as interesting (and likely won’t garner as many clicks). As long as social media sits at the centre of our communicative worlds, this will continue to be the case.
While we are all watching a fruitless rescue effort for five silly rich people on a completely unnecessary mission, plenty of real disasters are happening (and being ignored) on our not-so-distant shores.
If you liked this, you might also like these past issues on similar topics:
Memes are the best medicine (June 2021)
Social media has always been evil (April 2022)
R-E-S-P-E-C-T: Finding out what it means to me (September 2022)