In February 2022 the world watched horrified as Russia invaded Ukraine. Comparisons to previous acts of war abounded, as a distinct anxiety about past conflicts on European soil invaded the news. As a consequence of the spread of recent technologies, however, this time the world quite literally did watch it happen.
This conflict might be the first major war on European soil since the establishment of the internet as a primary means of communication, and the difference is already made apparent. As well as the traditional media reports, social media vehicles are full of images, stories, details and personal accounts of the conflict. On top of the problem of having to ascertain the veracity of the images ourselves, we also are fed them through endless scrolling feeds that intermingle with images of cats, recipes, games, memes, jokes, advertisements, and an infinite amount of information that finds us at their mercy.
What are the consequences of receiving news of death and destruction on the same devices we look at porn and celebrity news? It is possible we have become desensitized of the reality of such issues and develop a detached relationship to the world. As Susan Sontag has postulated, images reinforce this sense of distance, as “photographing is essentially an act of non-intervention”. The gaze becomes a source of comfort because from our screens we feel protected and safe, watching rather than participating. Yet we remain curious and interested, rubbernecking a car crash. We are quietly shocked, but feel safe to carry on with our daily lives.
At the same time, these images reveal prejudices and stereotypes about who deserves pity and help. Much has been said about the dissonance in the coverage of this conflict compared to the vast number of other ones happening outside of Europe, as if the blondness and blue-eyed-ness of the Ukrainian people would make this invasion more concerning than the ones in other, less civilized parts of the world. It is the image of Europeans in distress that plays the fundamental role here. It is the image that breaks our assumptions about civilization and, due to a selective sort of empathy, our own sense of safety. These photographs and the videos are more shocking than the news of two countries at war thousands of miles away.
Watching the war in our phones, a dissonance between shock and apathy swirls around among the banalities of the daily image. The war is now content. The part where we challenge potential racism in selective empathy is also content. Many media companies generate revenue by incentivizing passive watching. I wonder what is the impact of the war on the revenue of these new media websites. Feeding on images of suffering through these channels, we become passive spectators of disgrace.