One might well ask what it is that these particular examples of newspaper headlines have in common, or perhaps more importantly, what relevance and significance do they encapsulate for us as individuals and as members of the larger society?. The answer, it might be said, is that they are each illustrative of an ‘episode, condition, person or group of persons’ that have in recent times, been ‘defined as a threat to societal values and interests’- what Stanley Cohen has termed ‘The Moral Panic’ (Cohen 1972: 9).
According to Cohen, society is often subject to such instances and periods of moral panic; an occurrence which is characterised by ‘stylized and stereotypical’ representation by the mass media, and a tendency for those ‘in power’ (politicians, bishops, editors and so on) to man the ‘moral barricades’ and pronounce judgement. At times the object and nature of the panic may be considered ‘novel’, such as that concerning the ‘child killers’ of
James Bulger in the 1990’s, while at others it has been in existence for some time but has suddenly come into (or perhaps re-entered) the limelight (drugs and paedophilia). The path of the panic, however, can take one of two directions. Either it quickly dies out and for all intents and purposes is forgotten, or it has more serious and lasting implications such as incorporation into legislation and social policy, as can be seen by the introduction of the National Sex Offenders Register (Paedophile Register) in the late 1990s, in response to the growing concern and panic over child sex offences (Cohen 1972: 9).
It is, therefore, within this context that this essay is set. The concept of the moral panic will be looked at more closely before moving on to examine the role of the media (particularly newspapers) in the orchestration of moral panics. For this purpose two of the more recent moral panics will be discussed in order to provide a more comprehensive illustration of this issue.
For all intents and purposes the ‘moral panic’ is nothing new. Throughout time there have been a number of panics over a variety of issues, ranging from crime and the activities of youth, to drugs and sexual freedom, each considered a threat to the moral fibre of society at that particular time- today is no exception (Furedi 1994: 1). As Furedi points out, ‘newspaper headlines continually warn of some new danger which threatens our health and happiness. Television programmes echo the theme with sensational accounts of crime and illustrations of the breakdown of family life’ (Furedi 1994: 1). Whereas in the past it may have been the ‘drug culture’ of the fifties and sixties, or the disruptive behaviour of the Mods and Rockers, today we face panics over ‘children who kill other children’, the threat to our health from outbreaks of BSE and E.coli food poisoning, teenagers gripped by a ‘new and threatening drug epidemic’- Ecstasy, and perhaps one of the more prominent panics at present- the ‘paedophile’. The issues to consider, it might then be suggested are: how does a panic occur and take hold; what are the indicators; and who is involved?
Furedi suggests that moral panics have a tendency to occur ‘at times when society has not been able to adapt to dramatic changes’ and when such change leads those concerned to express fear over what they see as a loss of control. The ‘modernising trends of the 1960’s (‘the sexual revolution’) for example, were seen by many as heralding a decline in moral standards, while those involved were accused of ‘undermining society’s moral foundations’ (Furedi 1994: 3). However, as Furedi points out, the events that embody the ‘panic’ or new development, may in themselves have little to do with the ‘panicky response’ that occurs as a result. To illustrate this point further, however, it is necessary to look at the ‘actors in the drama of the moral panic’, particularly the press.
In order to determine whether a moral panic was at hand during the Clacton disturbances, Cohen looked at the reaction of five segments of society: ‘the press, the public, agents of social control, or law enforcement, lawmakers and politicians, and action groups’. He characterized press coverage of the events as ‘exaggerated attention, exaggerated events, distortion, and stereotyping’ (Cohen 1972: 31-8, in Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 24). Not only were the events over-reported but the coverage awarded them far outweighed their importance. Distorted and repeated false stories seemed to be the order of the day with little time or interest being given to what actually happened; rather the press coverage was seen to follow a ‘stereotypical pattern’, a firm indicator of a moral panic taking place (Cohen 1972: 34-8, in Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 24-6). The public on the other hand must show the potential to react to a particular issue in order for a media campaign to be built. For as Goode and Ben-Yehuda explain, the media may well be ‘infused with hysteria about a particular issue or condition’ but if this does not generate public concern then there is no moral panic (Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 26).
Similarly, concern and action must be evident within the ‘societal control culture’- law enforcement. These ‘forces’ must be seen to be doing something about the perceived threat; a case of new situations needing new remedies. Strongly linked to this is the role of politicians and legislators who seize an opportunity to suggest possible solutions and punishments and align themselves (a ‘defining quality’ of the moral panic) with other groups against the perceived threat. Action Groups on the other hand are often generated as a direct result of the moral panic. Often believing that existing remedies and measures are insufficient, these groups arise to ‘cope with the newly-existing threat’ (an example of which will be discussed further in relation to the paedophile moral panic). There are, however, two additional features that are said to characterize the moral panic, these two developments serve to inform the observer that society is in fact in the grip of a moral panic: the creation of ‘folk devils’ and the development of a ‘disaster mentality’ (Cohen 1972: 40ff,140ff in Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 28).
As Goode and Ben-Yehuda explain, the ‘folk devil’ is a ‘deviant’: someone engaged in wrongdoing and whose actions are considered harmful to society. They are deemed selfish and evil and thus substantial steps must be taken to ‘neutralize’ their actions, in order to allow a return to ‘normality’ (Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 29). Finally in the ‘drama’ of the moral panic is the development of the ‘disaster mentality’ which has strong parallels with steps taken ‘before, during, and after a natural disaster’. These include ‘predictions of impending doom’, overreactions, the ‘institutionalization of threat’, rumour, false alarms and at times mass delusion (Cohen 1972: 144-8 in Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 29).
Having established the ‘actors’, it is now necessary to outline the indicators of the moral panic, before looking more closely at some recent examples of moral panics, in illustration of these concepts. According to Goode and Ben-Yehuda there are five crucial elements that define the moral panic: concern, hostility, consensus, disproportionality and volatility. Concern (different from fear) must be at a heightened level over the perceived threat (and those associated with it), and manifest in a concrete way. This can include ‘opinion polls, public commentary in the form of media attention, proposed legislation, social movement activity, and so on’ (Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 33-40). Following this is an increased level of hostility toward those involved in the behaviour that is considered central to the threat or panic, and a general agreement or consensus among society that a threat actually exists.
The fourth element of disproportionality focuses on the extent to which the ‘degree of public concern over the behaviour itself, the problem it poses, or condition it creates is far greater than is true for comparable, even more damaging actions’ (Goode & Ben-Yehuda 1994: 36). It is on this element that the whole concept of the moral panic rests, without which it is impossible to determine whether an episode of concern actually constitutes a moral panic. However, disproportionality is reliant on empirical information; figures or numbers (of victims, deaths and so on), which within the context of the moral panic (and its ‘claim-makers’- often the press) are often greatly exaggerated. And finally, a defining characteristic of the moral panic is that it is ‘volatile’; erupting suddenly (although there are those that have existed for some time but are considered dormant; perhaps reappearing from time to time), and almost as quickly they subside or disappear. This is not to say, however, that the moral panic does not have any lasting effects, or impact. As explained earlier, there are occasions when a case of moral panic has resulted in changes in social policy or legislation.
But perhaps the best way to understand the moral panic and the role of the press in orchestrating such panics is to look closely at examples of more recent moral panics, namely the James Bulger murder in the early 1990s and the ‘paedophile scare’ that has pervaded much of this decade. As Ann Bradley comments, there is little wonder why the murder of toddler James Bulger by two fellow children, dominated newspaper headlines and created a panic. As she explains, ‘many commentators tried to depict the murder of James Bulger as a gruesome act which of was somehow characteristic modern British society’, despite the fact that various figures show that such murders are extremely rare. In fact it was not so much that this murder was a ‘symbol of nineties Britain’; but that the media reaction to it was (Bradley 1994: 1). Indeed the point to bear in mind when considering this example, is that this case was not completely novel; children have in the past killed other children, what is different (and thus ‘novel’) is the national reaction to such a tragedy and the role of the media in instigating this. For example, when Mary Bell (aged 11) killed two toddlers in 1968; the media, far from using the tragedy to orchestrate a panic, instead chose to ignore it, which in turn resulted in public rejection of it as a cause for panic. The 1990s, however, were to be witness to quite a different approach.
The media used the case of James Bulger to symbolise all that was wrong with Britain. As Bradley points out, ‘as the media pursued each new sub-plot of the courtroom saga, it issued another little moral message for the nation to take on board: ‘it’s an evil world and we need strict rules’ (Bradley 1994: 1). Rational explanations for why the crime occurred were not the concern of the press, rather they chose to focus attention on the difference between innocence and evil. Bradley cites the Times as an example of this; they used the opportunity (often using the language of criminology: ‘moral evil, the choice of vice over virtue’) to ‘restore the notions of pure innocence (little James) and born evil (his killers) in a way that few were prepared to question’ (Bradley 1994: 1-2).
The media, however, did not stop here, even more moral questions were to be raised: ‘why did ‘we’ as a society allow this to happen?’; ‘if society had have been more vigilant this crime would never have happened’; ‘what happened to the active citizen?’ (the Guardian). The moral message being: ‘we are all guilty, and we must make sure it never happens again’ (Bradley 1994: 2). Next came the call for a ‘back to basics’ approach to family life; the restoration of the ‘traditional values’ of the past (when such crime didn’t happen?), and inevitably pointing public opinion ‘towards the need for more authoritarian controls and censorship’ (Bradley 1994: 4).
Now that the media had highlighted and presented to the public so many issues of moral and societal concern, there was little the ‘concerned citizen’ could say in opposition to a series of proposed solutions, such as ‘the installation of more surveillance cameras to pry into our comings and goings’- after all they had proved vital in apprehending the killers of James Bulger. Nor could anyone possibly argue against the call for stricter controls on (and banning of) violent films, when the belief was that the video Child’s Play III (which was thought to have been watched by one of the killers), acted as the inspiration for the crime (Bradley 1994: 4). The fact that there has been little real evidence which suggests a causal link between film violence and real violence was not considered relevant or worthy of consideration. What followed instead, was ‘a national panic’ as newspapers called for dramatic action; ‘for the sake of all our kids...burn your video nasty’ read the Sun, followed by a campaign call to destroy all copies of the video in question (Campbell 1994: 1). To object to any of these things would be to send the message that ‘you may be responsible for the death of a toddler’ (Bradley 1994: 4). Thus, it could be suggested, a ‘concern’ had been generated and the premise for a ‘panic’ set firmly in place.
Strong parallels can be drawn between this case and that of the ‘paedophile scare’ that has dominated much of the 1990s: the raised ‘concern’ (that all ‘our’ children are now at risk from this ‘new threat’), ‘hostility’ towards the ‘deviants’ or ‘folk devils’ that are central to the panic (‘child killers’ in the James Bulger case and paedophiles themselves), the ‘consensus’ among society that a very real threat exists from these groups and their actions, and of course ‘disproportionality’ and ‘volatility’(shown in the misrepresentation of figures and facts by the media in both instances, and whose path resulted in legislative changes before subsiding). Additionally, the ‘actors in the drama of the moral panic’, particularly the press in orchestrating the panic, remain constant, as will be shown in the case of the ‘paedophile panic’ and the path leading up to it, which follows.
In an article in the Guardian December 1997, Owen Boycott discusses the growing visibility of paedophilia. He suggests that while police and social services were reluctant to recognise the scale of paedophilia in the 1970s and 1980s, in the 1990s ‘as one local authority home after another has been exposed as a target for calculating child abusers, paedophilia has taken on the characteristics of a menace to society’. He offers figures from the Home Office that estimate that up to 110,000 people in Britain have been convicted of sex offences against children and outlines a chronology of the worst offences. These include:
August 1993: The abduction, rape and manslaughter of 14 year old Jason Swift by Robert Oliver (who in 1997 faced a number of vigilante threats from the public in response to reports of his presence in their town).
March 1996: Arrest of Roger Saint, a foster father who had served on Clwyd
County Council’s adoption panel.
August 1996: Marc Dutroux arrested by Belgian police (in relation to Belgium’s paedophile scandal that made news throughout the world).
July 1997: Brendan Smyth, a Catholic priest convicted of indecent assaults on 20 children.
August 1997: Public schoolmaster Adrian Stark- committed suicide after being charged with child pornography offences.
A catalogue of offences such as this may only serve to illustrate the role the press has in the orchestration of a panic within society, its very presentation implying that paedophiles are everywhere and could be anyone. But perhaps this is only the tip of the iceberg, to follow the path of this ‘moral panic’ it is necessary to look further at the coverage awarded by the press to the paedophilia panic, and the central role they played in it.
In 1995 public concern was alerted to the case of 7 year old Sophie Hook, who was raped and strangled by Howard Hughes- ‘known to be an active paedophile’ (Guardian). What followed this and other cases, was a media campaign to ensure this never happened again: ‘the call for the release of information about known paedophiles to parents and communities’ (Guardian). This growing concern was to be capitalised on by the press who, with headlines like -’why do we live in terror, ‘schools out - but the kids are locked up’ (Guardian), served only to confirm, rather than allay, the publics growing fears. In an article in the Guardian in August 1997 by Alan Travis (Home Affairs Editor), it was reported ‘Paedophile guidelines expected to end ‘outing’. In response to the implementation of the National Sex Offenders Register, the article discussed the role of the media in bringing about this new legislation and somewhat inadvertently, their role in orchestrating the panic:
Newspaper campaigns ‘outing’ paedophiles are likely to end under new Home Office guidelines on the disclosure of information from the National Sex Offenders Register which comes into force next month... some of the pressure for the new guidelines has come from the ‘scattergun’ release of information about convicted paedophiles by individual police forces to local newspapers and media, who have then mounted campaigns ‘outing’ the offenders, sometimes with tragic results... (referring to individuals being wrongly identified as paedophiles) (Guardian 12 August 1997).
Indeed, not only could such campaigns and press coverage result in a modern day ‘witch hunt’ for likely paedophiles, and thus the likelihood of misidentification, but it could perhaps be accused of generating a number of ‘action groups’ in response to the ‘panic’. For example, in the same article it was reported that ‘the unofficial Child Protection Unit formed by angry dads in Teignmouth, Devon, has ‘savagely beaten’ a convicted sex offender and threatens more attacks, claiming that only physical action can protect their children’. It has to be asked, in the light of such articles and press coverage, whether the ‘actual threat’ did in fact warrant the subsequent reaction of the public, or whether such behaviour was merely reflective of the ‘actors and indicators’, which have been identified as characterising the path of the moral panic.
For as Decca Aitkenhead points out, in the newspaper article ‘The real truth about paedophiles - and us’, paedophilia is nothing new; ‘we have always known about paedophiles, and our parents’ parents will have warned them not to take sweets from strangers’. What is suggested, however, is that there is now far more known about the prevalence of paedophilia; ‘alarming uses of the Internet are well reported, and newspapers have done their bit to expose paedophile rings’ (Guardian 9 January 1998). Thus the public, when asked about their panic and violent fury toward paedophiles, quite understandably often point to the ‘figures’ they are presented with (often by the press), figures which tell them child abuse is everywhere (Guardian 9 January 1998)!. Yet what Aitkenhead makes clear is ‘the new discovery is the scale of child abuse going on in the home, yet the new panic is about the stranger in the park’. It would appear that it is easier to heavily invest in the menace of the stranger, as abuse within the home and our families is too difficult to confront.
Using this, and the other examples, it is perhaps clear to see how a panic was generated and why. There is little doubt that a concern did exist, yet one must question whether the panic in question was more to do with society finding a way of dealing with an issue that was too difficult to confront, (thus a new ‘folk devil’ was sought), and whether this concern was capitalised on by the media to orchestrate a new panic. As Furedi comments, reactions to events, such as those mentioned, ‘reflect far wider concerns about the nature of society today, in circumstances where people sense that things are out of control’. It is when the ‘traditional norms and values no longer appear to have much relevance to people’s lives’, yet there is the belief that there is little with which to replace them, that a very real sense of loss can occur. And set against this background; people’s awareness of this loss of control over their lives, makes them all the more susceptible to moral panics, and perhaps those that would orchestrate them (Furedi 1994: 3).
Yet it is perhaps futile to think that there are any ready-made solutions to the problem of moral panics, especially as we seem to be living in a time that is prepared to replace one moral panic for another, as quickly as the old one subsides. Encouraging people to think rationally about facts and figures ‘provides no easy antidote to fears generated by a society that feeds on privatised insecurity’. Rather, as Furedi would suggest, it is up to those of us who express concern over the way so many people’s lives can be ‘blighted by the culture of hysteria’, to question at all times, those (in this instance the press) who would continue to sell the ‘you-are-at-risk philosophy’ (Furedi 1994: 6). And perhaps most importantly, rather than focus on the next potential threat, panic, or ‘folk devil’, we should instead strive to find an alternative vision of the world - one in which we seek out the best rather than the worst in human potential (Furedi 1994: 6).
November 1998