Editorial Subnarratives and Overinterpretation
When I finish reading a news article and, at the bottom of it (if not interspersed within the article itself), a presumed algorithm suggests “to me” three other articles that “people who read this article were also interested in”:
- it is possible that their selection results from an algorithm that compiles the behaviors of all readers and attempts to guide me toward my genuine interests, based on past browsing, reading time, socio-demographic profiles, etc.
- it is also possible that some deliberate intention or purpose is at play in that selection, like on ecommerce sites where paid advertisements offer other products similar to the one I have been browsing, but chosen in the interest of the seller, based on available stocks, for instance.
- it is obviously possible to combine the two points above for a variety of intents, as many organizations are busy doing as we speak, ranging from commercial entities to government agents.
Even absent a paid or ideologically determined intention, it is unavoidable that I make unconscious connections between what I just read and “what else is out there”, based on this small selection. My brain is set up to make comparisons and inductions from available data, permanently in the cognitive unconscious, occasionnally consciously.
For instance, after I finish reading about a terrible train accident in India that is leaving hundreds dead and hundreds more injured, I may be left with a feeling that this wouldn’t happen in France, where I live. It happens, but much, much more rarely, and therefore I feel safe and somewhat confirmed in my latent superiority complex toward less developped countries, as I am part of a “better” one. But then, the first article suggestion after that concerns a pedophile Catholic priest being condemned after having abused young children for decades with impunity and even a form of protection from his institution. The Catholic church is very much part of the traditional social hierarchy in France, of the same power structure that defines the country, including its position in the world order (following a period of profitable colonialism, of course). That there are such crimes within it, and that they are widespread and “covered up”, provokes anger and indignation.
Yet, here is the implied comparison for me: I could be in a poor country where such accidents are almost common, and I would be much less safe, or I can be here but there is a price to pay for that power structure which protects me: the individuals that have power in it can also rape me or my children, or abuse their position in a variety of ways. It’s a cost-benefit analysis. I just read at length about the train accident; I am getting a quick reminder of the pedophilia scandal (which I am free to explore further by clicking, but not free not to have seen as a suggestion). This is more likely to make me resigned or fatalistic about the pedophilia, seeing it as an unavoidable (regrettable, but not worth throwing everything away that goes with it) part of the power structure that protects me.
There could be other interpretations, based on one’s feelings about India, trains, Catholicism and raping children. My main point is: there is such an editorial subnarrative at play; I have not really signed up for it, when deciding to consult this article; someone can for sure influence it for various purposes. Even in old-fashioned newspapers, the composition of a page with different articles could (and was) used as a device for creating similar associations. “Social benefits fraud rampant” on the left, “Presidential candidate vows to limit immigration” on the right: not a word is written of the argument, but it is obviously there. Journalists can keep thinking that they are independant, and billionnaires can keep buying newspapers and hiring editors to do the overall composition. One only has not to make it too obvious, as it needs to remain mostly unconscious, or at least not cognitively disruptive (not going against values and assumptions of assumed readership).