Watching the Western media explain Japan can feel like watching a caveman explain the future.



Caveman Reporters

I was watching Dr. Sanjay Gupta waving around a pocket dosimeter, explaining that his “radiation levels had quadrupled,” when I realized the problem with the coverage of this disaster: There’s no frame of reference.

The idea of “quadrupling radiation” sounds dangerous. It isn’t. Gupta acknowledged this, but CNN’s banner still rang the “TOKYO RADIATION QUADRUPLES” alarm. Another CNN banner read, “Radiation Could Reach US Friday,” without qualifying how much.

Let’s Frame Some References

Each millirem of radiation we receive increases our risk of cancer by about 1 in 4 million. (source). That matches the chance of getting killed by a car if you crossed the street five times.

But don’t listen to me. Here’s Ryugo Hayano, chair of the Physics Dept. at the University of Tokyo, in a Tweet:

The radioactivity level of 16 spots in a 60 kilometer radius of Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant #1 (March 16, 2011): 6.7 to 8.0 Micro Sievert. The radioactivity level of smoking 1.4 cigarettes: 100 Micro Sievert. LET’S SMOKE AND GET RADIATED!

Right now, the radiation levels in Fukushima City are at 20 microsieverts, or 2 millirems – “One thousand times higher than in Japanese cities far from the plant,” says the Wall Street Journal – which, in radiation terms, is equal to what a single computer monitor puts out over two years.

Radiation levels in Tokyo – after they “quadrupled” – are at .808 millirems per hour. That’s crossing the street 4 times. You need 100,000 millirems to get sick; even 500,000 millirems is only lethal half the time.

Is it abnormal? Yes. But given radiation hysteria in the United States, using factors like “quadrupled” or “1,000 times normal levels” frightens more than it enlightens. Combined with talk of a “mass exodus,” “radiation fears,” “nuclear threats” and little context, it’s no wonder Americans are getting hysterical.

This stuff is hard enough for me to figure out in a comfortable living room with electricity and a laptop. Gupta, Cooper, et al shouldn’t be left alone to do a crash-course in nuclear science while sifting through debris. That’s the work of editors. I don’t know where those editors are. They certainly aren’t in Japan.

The Media in Japan

Compare CNN to The Asahi Shimbun, which ran a front-page graphic with comparisons of average radiation levels across the country. In some places – including the city I live in – radiation levels dropped.

Yesterday’s headline in The Japan Times was a masterpiece in dull rationality:



By comparison, the UK’s Sun newspaper created our leading “GET OUT OF TOKYO NOW!” graphic.

In Japan, calm reporters in front of simple backgrounds and even a hand-crafted diorama are the face of the network during a crisis. It is a calming contrast to torrential news tickers, whooshing noises, flags and industrial music of American media, constantly reminding you that news is urgent.

Here’s my proposal: Western media addresses risks, because it comes from a tradition of informing critical thinking. Japanese media addresses concerns, because it comes from a tradition of maintaining public order.

Samurai Reporters

When the Imperial Diet was formed in 1889, it was a natural home for former Samurai. Samurai were highly educated and after being outlawed in 1873 they gravitated towards the military and politics. A handful formed newspaper companies.

The media, as a product of the respected and feared samurai class, maintained relationships with other aristocrats, and its readership. That continues, with a few notable disruptions.

In arrangements called “Kisha clubs,” entities grant press agencies exclusive access, meaning foreign media and more critical independent reporters are left out. Reporters in those clubs are accused of limiting what they publish at the unspoken (always unspoken) urging of their government or corporate hosts – all in the name of maintaining public order.

News reports are often uniform across networks and agencies, which reinforces a sense of accuracy. When the west arrives in Japan and reports on something differently, people get nervous. I heard defensive complaints that western media aren’t “trusting the experts in Japan.”

Odds are, the foreign media aren’t getting any information from the experts in Japan. So they’re panicking.

Samurai vs Caveman

As a former caveman reporter in samurai territory, I don’t blame Dr. Sanjay Gupta for freaking out. We’re trained to be critical. Reporters are supposed to find the worst-case scenario, then work backward, informing readers of all possible risks so they can make informed decisions. The worst-case scenario is that we won’t warn people of an impending disaster. So we err on the side of hyperbole.

In Japan, the worst-case scenario is error. Overstating a threat makes a disaster worse by amplifying fear and disrupting routines. They seem to see their work as thoroughly explaining the most likely scenarios. And Japanese culture is less forgiving of mistakes than the West.

But lately, the Japanese media is getting annoyed. One reporter at a press meeting with the power company that runs the Fukushima plant, watched as the company discussed, at length, their deep regrets.

The reporter cried out, “We don’t care about emotions, we want information!”

That’s a notable turning point.

Further Reading

Since I am a nuclear idiot, I want to recommend some articles, written by scientists and reporters with real editors, that might illuminate some of the radiation risk in Japan:

Interview with Britain’s Chief Scientific Officer

The Christian Science Monitor

National Public Radio