The reporting of horrifying incidents is one of the most difficult responsibilities facing the news media.

Striking the balance between informing readers as comprehensively as possible, while taking into account the sensitivities attached to extreme violence, has always been fraught with danger for journalists.

When the issue has the international significance and supercharged religious and political elements of the murderous outrage in Christchurch last week, any attempt at balance which escapes criticism becomes Mission Impossible.

But anyone who suggests that the public is best served by censoring parts of the story that are unpalatable doesn’t have the best interests of journalism or informed debate at heart.

We know from Brenton Tarrant’s own twisted manifesto that his attack could have happened here.

It is bad enough that it happened anywhere, but the old aphorism that all news is local is never truer than when an international outrage such as this is carried out by one of our own.

The fact that Tarrant was born and brought up here, apparently self-radicalised here and had connections with other right-wing extremists here means that every element of this story will be raked over by journalists trying to extract meaning from the mayhem.

Camera Icon The front pages of Australian newspapers on Saturday. Credit: Getty Images

People buy newspapers to find out what is going on. It is counterintuitive to expect trigger warnings on the coverage of terrorist attacks or the sanitisation of the motives of the perpetrators.

While the reporting of violence should always stay within the bounds of gratuitous interest, good journalism demands a level of graphic detail that adequately portrays what happened.

Similarly, the use of images needs careful attention because they can be the most powerful element of the coverage of violence.

However, any suggestion that a picture of the assassin should not be run because it gives him notoriety is ill-conceived. Identification is a key element of factual reporting.

Should we now airbrush Hitler from history?

Any criticism of the use of some pictures from Tarrant’s gruesome video coverage needs to be tempered against their ability to explain the story.

In particular, the frame looking down the barrel of his gun is important in drawing the link to the violent video games that were a big part of the alt-right internet sites Tarrant frequented. The images are identical.

If that exposure does anything to influence a rethink of the cancerous effect of such violent images as entertainment, then it’s a good thing.

Those who are arguing that journalists should not give “oxygen” to the demented views of Tarrant in his so-called manifesto are misguided.

Why should the public not have the benefit of knowing what caused a young Australian to become such a monster?

The fact that they are hate-filled and twist history into a perverted ideology is the very reason why readers have the right to know what part they played in his conversion to terrorism.

To deny members of the public access to his motives is to obscure their ability to understand the horror. Is it OK for people only to find such stuff in dark corners of the internet?

And it should be expected that graphic coverage of such a revolting and inhumane event will evoke strong reactions on social media and elsewhere.

As many of those who criticise mainstream media coverage on Twitter say on their profiles — retweets are not endorsements. Neither is reporting.

And it should be expected that graphic coverage of such a revolting and inhumane event will evoke strong reactions on social media and elsewhere.

I remember editing this newspaper during the coverage of the Port Arthur massacre. That also involved the wilful killing of children and I recall agonising over publishing descriptions of how Martin Bryant hunted down Alannah and Madeline Mikac.

And I remember the graphically gut-wrenching interview with nurse Lynne Beavis on the ABC’s 7.30 Report, which was chilling in its detail:

“I saw a young man sitting there, just sitting there, with blood all over his hair and his face, holding his girlfriend, or wife, I don’t know’s [sic] hand. And she was very dead. And I just looked at him and I said, ‘I’m so sorry, I can’t help you’.”

I remember crying as I watched, but I can’t remember anyone suggesting then that her words be censored.

What came from the coverage of Port Arthur and the national grief it caused were gun laws that banned the very weapons used in the New Zealand attack.

Those who want to stop journalists practising journalism and newspapers acting like newspapers should realise that when they blunt the message, they change its meaning.