Much is being made of parallels between our present
privations and the dark days of WW2. Fortunately, so far, this hasn’t resulted
in a supermarket rush on Spam – by which I mean that of the original meaty variety
courtesy of the Hormel Foods Corporation of Austin, Minnesota. As for spam of the
annoying, virtual variety – and its paper equivalent, junk mail – both are relatively
and pleasantly absent from our lives. I suspect at least one airline is still trying
to seduce me onto non-existent flights to abandoned airports far from anywhere,
my favourite travel company remains optimistic that I could be in need of a 14-day
sojourn on the “Corona Princess”, and a flyer for a local pizza delivery
service might actually be welcomed, but overall the rubbish content of both
letterbox and e-mail inbox is gratifyingly low.
Thus, unusually in this unusual time, we perhaps become
aware that information, like most other commodities that thread through our
lives, has an ecology of its own. Obvious rubbish is only part of that ecology;
arguably the easiest part to deal with. The front door variety soon finds its
way to (a) the recycling bin or (b) a transient benefit-of-the-doubt pile and then to the recycling, while the online
species is mostly identified for us automatically.
Information ecology, now there’s a thought. As practical
advice, it has similarities with hygiene, and here we return to the one and
only subject of the moment. You’re probably taking in far more news stories
than you do usually, ingesting much more than your normal quota of emotionally
charged, threatening, disturbing information. Even if you haven’t suffered in a
directly personal way, you’re having to cope with all that stressful awareness
of other people’s tragedies, as well as all the real anxiety for the safety of
your own family and friends. Psychological waste products could be accumulating that can’t be good for you,
throwing a strain on your own personal informational ecology – and your mental
health.
As regards the information we are exposed to, the very nature
of the coronavirus attack reveals huge areas of genuine ignorance, of the
medically unknown, which media types and every homegrown instant expert are
only too ready to fill with speculation. Plus a few reliably depressing facts,
repeatedly endlessly.
Naturally, everyone wants the situation to end as soon as
possible, for the infamous curve to flatten and fall away so that normal life
can resume. Everyone wants the best, fastest, least damaging, safest way out of
this mess, but nobody has the definitive answer. The news stories cater for a
whole range of affective attitudes, from unrealistic optimism to terminal
gloom, and of every level of credibility from plausible science to conspiracy
theories and paranoia. They provide the reader with plenty of scope for
exercising innate tendencies towards confirmation bias, for inflaming natural
suspicions, for provoking anger and despair as well as admiration and
compassion. You may be undergoing a prolonged spell of emotional hyper-arousal,
an excessively lengthy and bumpy ride on the roller coaster.
Much of the news material on offer is deeply distressing,
putting up stress levels and nurturing anxiety while lowering mood into sadness
and depression, occasionally offering hope only to have it dashed by the next
item. The media are quite happy to fill out their schedules with wall-to-wall
coronavirus coverage, since little else is happening of interest or importance to
most people. Even the happy stories are coronavirus-related. One fears that the
situation is “getting to” people - and we’re only four weeks into the lockdown.
As a retired information scientist officially on the
decrepit fringes of the vulnerable category I feel that there is little I can
do to help in a practical sense, but I offer the following proposal. I suggest
that a new personal skill should be recognised and acquired for the duration
(and beyond). Information hygiene. What I’m proposing is essentially a mental
health strategy, a self-protective manoeuvre, an avoidance technique. I’m
referring to the deliberate and selective withdrawal from information sources
you suspect you will find upsetting.
Switch off. Look away. Do something else.
While it is important to be aware of official and other
practical advice for personal safety, and to understand how the pandemic and
its resolution are developing, in the interests of mental well-being I propose
that one’s exposure to coronavirus-related news should be restricted. Do it
like this. Try to develop a nose for the “fake news”, for the predictable distorted
emphases exercised by resources known to have strong political biases, for the
gloating-by-proxy horror stories, the accounts designed to engage your emotions,
your fears and your sorrow. Try not to read them or watch them, but sense when
they are coming. Ignore them. Not out of callousness or indifference but out of
self-protection.
Switch off, switch channels, switch to another website, do
something else if you find yourself being drawn in. If you must, focus on the
uplifting stories, like the splendid example of Captain Tom Moore, and limit your
input of news to a few minutes a day. Try to stick to the facts. Stay safe and
stay positive.
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