Myanmar media: Coming home from exile

Social media and e-engagement:The Singapore case

Covering racial political issues in Malaysia: The effect of news frameson readers’ thoughts

When news becomes entertainment: Representations of corruption in Indonesia’s media and the implication of scandal

Job satisfaction of journalists: Professional aspirations, newsroom culture and social context

2013 ~ VOLUME 40 NUMBER 1

Asian Media Information and Communication Centre

mediaasia

10 years after sars

Have health communicators learnt the lessons?

Asian Media Information and Communication Centre (AMIC)AMIC is a non-profit mass communication organisation serving Asia and the Pacific from its offices at Wee Kim Wee School of Communication Studies, Nanyang Technological University, Singapore. AMIC is engaged in communication research, documentation, training, consultancy services, institutional development and publication. Membership is open to individuals and institutions involved and interested in the study and practice of mass communication.

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Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information, Nanyang Technological University (WKWSCI-NTU)Established in July 1992,WKWSCI offers a four-year programme leading to an honours degree in Communication Studies.The school has five divisions: Journalism & Publishing, Electronic & Broadcast Media, Public & Promotional Communication, Communication Research, and Information Studies.The school also offers post- graduate programmes leading to Master’s and Doctoral degrees.

For further details, write to:Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information, Nanyang Technological University,31 Nanyang Link, Singapore 637718Tel: (65) 67991339 Fax: (65) 67913082Website: http://www.wkwsci.ntu.edu.sg

VOLUME 40 NUMBER 1 2013MIC (P) No: 158/03/2013

ISSN 0129–6612

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1 10 Years after sars

mediaasia CONTENTS

REPORTAGE4 10 years after SARS: Have health communicators learnt the

lessons?

INSIGHTS11 Myanmar media: Coming home from exile14 Journalism education: In defence of tradition16 ‘Open government’ data should increase accountability

NOTEWORTHY19 Books reviews

CASEFILE21 Social media and e-engagement: The Singapore case27 From fashion to the hereafter: Indonesia’s Republika, a

modern Islamic newspaper

RESEARCH34 Covering racial political issues in Malaysia: The effect of news frames on readers’ thoughts47 Online SNS usage patterns of undergraduate students in

private universities of Dhaka, Bangladesh60 When news becomes entertainment: Representations of

corruption in Indonesia’s media and the implication of scandal

73 Job satisfaction of journalists: Professional aspirations, newsroom culture and social context

85 Environmental communication in India: Lessons from Orissa

EDITOR-In-ChIEfCherian George

EDITOR fOR RESEARChSundeep R. Muppidi

ASSOCIATE EDITORRachel E. Khan

COPY EDITORSuruchi Mazumdar

On the cover: Indonesian villagers receiving information about avian influenza, as part of a World Health Organization campaign in 2007. – Photo by Jonathan Perugia, WHO.

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mediaasia EdITORIAL

Since 1974, Media Asia has helped to fulfil AMIC’s mission of nurturing and promoting research and dialogue on media and communication in the region. Entering our fortieth year, Me-

dia Asia remains focussed on this role. But, starting with this issue, we will be approaching it in a whole new way.

The most obvious change is in our physical format. We’ve aban-doned our old A4 size for this new compact package. Our new dimen-sions mirror AMIC’s other journal, the Asian Journal of Communica-tion, to emphasise the complementary roles that we play.

It is between the covers that you’ll find the most significant changes. The core of this journal will remain: In each issue, we will still publish several original scholarly research articles blind-refereed by experts in the field. Media Asia’s Research section leans towards empirical studies with a fairly direct impact on practical challenges in Asian media and communication. In line with this continuity, Sundeep Muppidi remains in charge of our research section.

In addition, the new Media Asia contains substantial new sec-tions highlighting current ideas, trends and concerns. Each issue starts with in-depth, journalistic reportage, a feature article analysing a major topic of contemporary interest. In our insights pages, authori-tative thinkers and leading practitioners share their opinions on key issues. There is also a section highlighting noteworthy works. Here, we’ll review not only books but also relevant online reports, documen-tary films and other resources that merit your attention.

We are also excited about our new casefile section. Despite the huge growth of Asian media and communication activities and edu-cation, there is a crying need for well-written, easily accessible Asian case studies to use in teaching and research. Media Asia will do its part to help fill the gap.

Welcome to the newMedia Asia

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All these changes are guided by our assessment of the strengths and limitations of conventional academic journals. Most journals are dedicated to showcasing the fruits of scholarly work, in the form of peer-reviewed research articles. But, this is only one part of the life cy-cle of scholarly inquiry. Before new findings are ready for harvesting, the soil has to be tilled and seeded with the right questions. And, after research is published, we need to take stock of how new knowledge is being used on the ground.

We’d like to think of the new Media Asia as contributing to this wider ecosystem. We aim to serve readers who want to harness reli-able research and credible, critical insights in order to address con-temporary media and communication challenges in Asia. We want to connect researchers, educators, students, practitioners and policy-makers, by publishing not only the new findings contained in research articles, but also signposting new directions for research and flagging pertinent questions.

Of course, we will be only as good as the contributions we receive. Please consider Media Asia as an outlet for your research, following the submission guidelines on page 96. If you are interested in con-tributing to our other sections—Insights, Casefile and Noteworthy—please refer to www.mediaasia.info for more details.

Thank you.

Cherian GeorgeChief Editor, Media Asia

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mediaasia REPORTAGE

10 years after SARS:Have health communicators learnt the lessons?

Margaret Chan, director-General of the World Health Organization, addresses the media with United Nations secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon. Chan identified “information and knowledge” as one of her priority areas when she took the post in 2007. as director of Health in Hong Kong, she had been at the forefront of the battle against sars. – United Nations photo

Governments are still trying to strike the right balance between overcommunicating and undercommunicating. Rachel e. Khan reports.

MedIa asIa Vol. 40 No. 1, March 2013, pp. 4–10

THE SARS pandemic of 2003 left an indelible mark on the field of health communication. As the mystery scourge swept the world with frightening speed, it became painfully

obvious that the old approaches to health education were not ad-equate for a threat as complex and free-flowing as globalisation itself.

“There was a lot of confusion in many countries,” recalls Thomas Abraham of the University of Hong Kong. Abraham serves as direc-tor of the Journalism and Media Studies Centre’s Public Health Me-dia Programme—itself a post-SARS initiative. “Pre-SARS, there were no guidelines about what to tell the public and what not to.”

5 10 Years after sars

One can only speculate how many lives might have been saved if the risk had been communicated the public more swiftly and ef-fectively. Between November 2002 and July 2003, the World Health Organization estimate of the global death toll was 775. SARS cases were around 8,000, with most casualties in China, Hong Kong, Viet-nam, Singapore and Canada. China, accustomed to concealing mass deaths, instinctively went into denial mode before it finally acknowl-edged the problem.

But it was not only the secretive regimes that found it tough to cope with this new kind of enemy. Health communication as a field was unprepared. Until then, it had focused primarily on long-term campaigns aimed at promoting healthy living and educating the public about such dangers as alcohol and tobacco, notes health com-munication researcher May O. Lwin of Nanyang Technological Uni-versity’s Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information.

As for communicable diseases, health communication took the form of standard warnings. “If you go to such and such country, you are warned to get inoculated against cholera,” Lwin notes by way of example. In this era, health communication theories were geared mainly towards the challenge of fostering attitudinal changes over time rather than prompting immediate action. “With SARS, the tim-ing for public reaction was immediate and not long-term. We haven’t had that kind of epidemic in at least 30 to 40 years so public health authorities did not have a ready health communication model to deal with it,” she says.

To fill this need, health communication professionals and theo-rists eventually reached out to risk communication, a field concerned with how authorities transmit correct information to the public in a timely, clear, transparent and coordinated way in order to instil and maintain public trust and cooperation. “Because SARS had the im-mediacy of an earthquake or a disaster, it became almost natural that they turned to risk communication models for the answer,” notes Lwin in an interview with Media Asia.

On a smaller scale, Hong Kong SAR established a Centre for Health Protection in 2004 as a response to the SARS epidemic, which had hit the region hard. The centre’s mission is to “achieve effective prevention and control of diseases in Hong Kong in collaboration with major local and international stakeholders”. Apart from the medical and scientific research programmes, the centre also has a Risk Communication Advisory Group tasked to formulate risk com-munication strategies and strengthen the communication networks between government and the public should the threat of new ill-nesses arise.

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SARS and Health CommunicationLee Wilkins of the University of Missouri refers to a ‘signal event’ as one that “sends a signal through a culture, producing change in institutions as well as public perception”.1 The 1986 Chernobyl nu-clear power plant accident served as a signal event for nuclear power policy and the need for transparency in reporting. SARS was health communication’s Chernobyl. David Dickson of SciDev.Net noted, “Like Chernobyl, it has become increasingly clear that efforts [of the Chinese government] to calm public fears by understating the mag-nitude of a potential health crisis have backfired. This tactic has also undermined the credibility of the government.”2

University of London professor Sanjay Sharma was in Beijing at the height of the pandemic and witnessed the government finally come clean. On 20 April 2003, Vice Minister Gao Qiang admitted that there were more SARS cases and SARS-related deaths than previously acknowledged by government. Declaring SARS to be “an enemy of the people”, a press statement by the ruling party said, “To the broad masses of people, accurate and timely information is also a good way to mobilise them to be more conscious of the disease. Panic stops when the public is fully informed.”3

Health officers in timor-leste responding to the H1N1 influenza virus in 2009. – United Nations photo

7 10 Years after sars

As a result of that unprecedented press conference, Chinese media were given greater liberty in reporting about SARS. Sun Yu, a 1999 Nieman Fellow and currently Fortune China editor, said that SARS had also given a unique opportunity to China’s emerging in-dependent media to gain popularity and people’s trust. At the same time, the local English-language media became the “window for the outside world to understand China”.4

For its part, the World Health Organization (WHO) bolstered efforts of private and public monitoring bodies in 2007, when it re-leased a new set of International Health Regulations (IHR) that re-quired countries to be transparent about outbreaks and to report dis-eases immediately to the agency. Isabelle Nuttall, director of WHO’s IHR department, said that better communication and coordination had made the organisation better equipped to handle new diseases. “We are much better organized and we’ve learnt over the years,” she told New York-based Na-tional Public Radio (NPR) in a recent interview.

Some countries, such as Singapore, chose to be transpar-ent and cautious from the onset of the SARS. Thus, Singapore became a model for risk or out-break communication because of it. “Singapore was praised by the World Health Organization, the American Chamber of Commerce, and even habitual critics like the Wall Street Journal for coping well with SARS,” noted US risk communication expert Peter Sandman.5 Prof. Leo Yee Sin, Director of Tan Tock Seng Hospital’s Communicable Disease Centre Clinical, was not surprised. She told Media Asia that the open, accurate and real-time communication and information helped their medical team address the SARS crisis even as her hospital was the designated SARS centre.

K. U. Menon of Singapore’s information ministry said that Sin-gapore’s compact size gave it an advantage. Being a city-state, it did not have to contend with federal-state relations and rural-urban divides, or watch over numerous ports of entry. “Perhaps more than many other countries, every conceivable communication tool was employed and finely calibrated to reach out to the maximum number of people and this was achieved by a blitzkrieg of efforts by a host of agencies working together, and at times separately,” he added. In fact, the Singapore government went to the extent of establishing a SARS-

FURTHER READINGAbraham, Thomas (2005). Twenty-first century plague: The story of SARS. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press.

Durodie, Bill (2011). H1N1: The social costs of cultural confusion. Global Health Governance, 4(2). New Jersey: Seton Hall University Press.

Ma, Ringo (Ed.) November 2005. Asian Journal of Communication, 15(3). Special Issue: Media, crisis and SARS. Singapore: Asian Media Information and Communication Centre.

WHO Western Pacific Region 2006. SARS: How a global epidemic was stopped. Geneva: World Health Organization.

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dedicated TV channel. But this was seen by many as a case of ‘over-kill’, observes Menon. Not surprisingly, it had very low viewer ratings.

The role of news media during the SARS crisis has also been investigated. A study by Media Tenor, a Bonn-based institute that specialises in the study of media content, showed that media cover-age on SARS on a global scale in 2003–2004 exceeded that of other global diseases such as HIV/AIDS. The study also noted that Western news agencies, specifically in the United States, Britain and Germany, framed SARS-related news in such as a way that it “spread panic among the audiences” instead of disseminating useful information such as symptoms and methods of treatment. “Chinese restaurants were avoided and anyone travelling in the general vicinity of China was viewed as a potential carrier,” the study said.

The consensus is that the antidote to miscommunication by media is better communication by health authorities. Bryan Walsh of Time magazine notes, “Leaving interpretation of the data to the me-dia, whose coverage tends to swing between extremes, is not a good idea. In an age of Twitter and transparency, there’s no substitute for official honesty.”

David Heymann, WHO’s Assistant Director-General for Health Security and Environment, lists seven lessons that can be learnt from SARS, several of which are communication-related:1. The need to report promptly and openly cases of any disease

with the potential for international spread2. The need for timely global alerts, supported by a responsible

press and amplified by electronic communication3. The usefulness of travel recommendations and screening meas-

ures in airports4. The importance of international collaboration of scientists, clini-

cians and public health experts5. That weaknesses in local health systems can permit emerging

infections to amplify and spread6. That political commitment and public concern can effectively be

used to contain an outbreak in the event of an absence of a cura-tive drug, preventive vaccine and interventions

7. The importance and challenge of risk communication strategies concerning new and emerging infectious diseases

SARS and A(H1N1)If SARS was the ‘signal event’ that set in motion risk communica-tion strategies for pandemics, the 2009 A(H1N1),6 also known as the ‘swine flu’ pandemic, was its first test. “In 2007, WHO committed to build and maintain core capacities in eight critical areas, including risk communication strategies, coordination mechanisms and train-

9 10 Years after sars

ing tools,” said Judith Graeff, a Communication Development Specialist for UNICEF. She noted that the 2009 H1N1 influ-enza was “the first global event that tested the planning and implementation of critical areas of communication”.

Unfortunately, despite WHO guidelines on health com-munication, governments fell into two extremes under the threat of A(H1N1). On the one hand, there was a lot of media hype, especially in the Western nations. On the other hand, many Asian governments re-tained their ‘default reaction’ of saying nothing, notes Abraham.

At the height of A(H1N1) in 2009, Robert Mackey of the New York Times said that public health officials were giving mixed signals by warning the public that a global pandemic of A(H1N1) was im-minent and, at the same time, clarifying that the word ‘pandemic’ will be used “even if the new virus turns out to be mild”. He observed, “The situation presented the news media with a conundrum: How loudly should a responsible person shout ‘Possible Fire’ in a crowded theatre?”

Now, of course, people can not only shout but also post, tweet and like. Social media are the new frontier in health communication. But specialists see these platforms as a two-edged sword. “If health officials can learn to use social media to be part of the public conver-sation, then it is a help. If they cannot, then they will be overtaken by social media,” says Thomas Abraham. On the bright side, it can be used as a strategic tool to alert the public against communicable diseases, notes Mamoud Eid of the University of Ottawa. Eid told Media Asia that he and his colleagues are working on a communica-tion model for the use of Twitter among government strategies for outbreak communication.

Whether help or hindrance, social media must be factored in health communication. “I think it’s very difficult to imagine an important public health event where that information isn’t getting out in some form, via text messaging, tweets, blogs or chatrooms,” said Dr. John Brownstein, an associate professor at Harvard Medical School, in a recent interview with NPR.

this Vietnamese poultry farmer is one of the many who have had to be trained to detect signs of avian influenza. – World Bank photo.

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One of these social media tools is the interactive HealthMap http://healthmap.org/, which tells you where the most recent out-breaks of communicable diseases are, anywhere in the world. Created by Brownstein and “New Media Medicine” specialist Clark Freifeld in 2006, the HealthMap is one of the many communication innovations that emerged in the post-SARS era. It utilises online informal sources for disease outbreak monitoring and real-time surveillance of emerg-ing public health threats around the world.

But these technologies are no magic bullet for the fundamental problem faced by communicators. WHO Director-General Margaret Chan noted in a recent speech that the challenge of outbreak health communication is the “difficulty of conveying risk in a rapidly evolv-ing situation marked by considerable scientific uncertainty”. Thomas Abraham notes that the general hype over the Avian Flu (H5N1) and A(H1N1) left a gap between “what the public had been led to expect and what actually occurred”. In the event of another pandemic, he notes, the challenge is dealing with a ‘desensitized public’. But at least, he notes, “We will no longer be as unprepared as we were during SARS.”

Notes1. Wilkins, L. (2005). Plagues, pestilence and pathogens: The ethi-

cal implications of news reporting of a world health crisis. Asian Journal of Communication, 15(3), Special Issue: Media, crisis and SARS. Hong Kong: Taylor and Francis, pp. 247–254.

2. Dickson, D. (April 2003). The lesson of SARS in health communication. SciDev.Net 2003. Retrieved from http://www.scidev.net/en/editorials/the-lesson-of-sars-for-health-communication.html.

3. Quoted in Sharma, S. (2004). Remembering SARS in Beijing: The nationalist appropriation of an epidemic. Sarai Reader, 4. Centre for the Study of Developing Societies, New Delhi, pp. 332–339.

4. Quoted in Sun Yu (2003). Lessons from SARS coverage. Nieman Reports, 57(4). Boston: Harvard University Press, pp. 91–93.

5. Sandman, P. (2003). Paper presented to the World Health Organ-ization SARS Scientific Research Advisory Committee Geneva, Switzerland, 20–21 October 2003. Retrieved from http://www.psandman.com/articles/who-srac.htm.

6. Official nomenclature A(H1N1): http://www.who.int/influenza/gisrs_laboratory/ terminology_ah1n1pdm09/en./

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mediaasia INSIGHTS

Myanmar media:Coming home from exileKyaw Zwa Moe offers an inside view of media liberalisation in Myanmar.

KyAw ZwA MoE is editor of The Irrawaddy magazine. an earlier version of this article was published in irrawady.org.

MedIa asIa Vol. 40 No. 1, March 2013, pp. 11–13

Burma’s lack of press freedom meant that media groups mushroomed in exile. But most of these organisations have now started opening newsrooms inside the country to continue their good work.

Don’t read The Irrawaddy.” That’s what former Prime Min-ister Khin Nyunt of Burma’s notorious military regime advised late Karen leader Gen Bo Mya during peace talks

in Rangoon in 2004. The powerful then-spy chief, dubbed the ‘Prince of Evil’, added, “Because it only reports untruths and rumours.”

His words showed how the former junta, known as one of the world’s most repressive dictatorships, hated The Irrawaddy. Freedom of the press and independent media were the enemy of the generals. In return, Burma has long been named as an ‘enemy of the press’ by international media advocacy groups.

Eight years after Khin Nyunt made these remarks, The Irrawaddy magazine was distributed inside Burma for the first time last December. It was a historic moment for a publica-tion that has survived in exile for almost two decades. Of course, most people view this as a step forward after the administration of reformist President Thein Sein relaxed media restrictions since assuming office in 2011.

Burma’s lack of press freedom meant that media groups mush-roomed in exile, especially after the 1988 popular nationwide upris-ing. But most of these organisations, including The Irrawaddy, have now started opening newsrooms inside the country to continue their good work. This has been a breakthrough for the exiled media and democracy movement generally.

Burmese military leaders rarely met the press in the past. In-stead, they used the media as a propaganda tool to prop up the regime. Former ex-junta supremo Snr-Gen Than Shwe had never

12 INsIGHts

spoken to a journalist for the entirety of his 18-year reign. Few of his subordinates had either.

Instead, they deliberately muzzled the media. In Burma, there was no such thing as a ‘press conference’. No journalists were recog-nised and no foreign reporters were allowed to work in the country. It was a dark age during which the majority of the population of the country had to rely on media groups in exile and short-wave radio broadcasts from foreign countries. We can now say that this era has finally passed.

Thein Sein began meeting the press after taking office. The 67-year-old has given interviews to international media such as BBC Hard Talk, The New York Times, Channel News Asia, Voice of Amer-ica and so on. Whether or not the president gave straight answers to journalists’ questions is another matter. After his trip to the United States in September, Thein Sein said that he was not afraid of the press anymore and also encouraged his ministers to speak to journal-ists. Indeed, there are a few ministers attached to the President’s Of-fice who are certainly not shy when approached by reporters.

But many cabinet ministers remain reluctant to speak to the media, and not many high-ranking officials are familiar with how the industry works. A constant refrain around Burmese newsrooms is that Naypyidaw ministries cannot be reached for comment.

After his American sojourn, Thein Sein also met a scoop of lo-cal journalists in response to complaints that he was only speaking with foreign media. The move was a positive reaction to legitimate requests for access from domestic journalists.

For the whole government, learning how to handle the press in a positive manner is an integral facet of the wider reform process—one that would aid that lofty goal of transparency. But media reform, mir-roring Burma’s overall political reform process, has not really gotten off the ground yet. Nevertheless, compared with other ministries, there seems to have been some progress, as officials have been in-structed to behave with more openness.

But many journalists on the ground, including reporters for The Irrawaddy, still feel intimidated as they do not know how far they can go when covering sensitive issues, despite pre-censorship having been abolished in August.

The road ahead seems to be bumpy.Recently, the country’s state-run newspaper, New Light of Myan-

mar, published the printing and publishing bill drafted by the Minis-try of Information and listed some restrictions. On 1 March, the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists, or CPJ, said, “Draft leg-islation designed to govern the media in Burma threatens to reverse

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fragile press freedom gains recently achieved under President Thein Sein’s democratic reform programme.”

The CPJ went to say that the draft bill bans reporting on several vague topics, including any news or commentary critical of the mili-tary-drafted 2008 constitution, and allows for six-month prison sen-tences for failing to register news publication with the government. The draft bill is to be deliberated by the country’s military-influenced parliament.

Over the past two decades, just possessing a copy of The Ir-rawaddy magazine could put a person in jail for many years. Most people only heard of The Irrawaddy second-hand through broadcast media groups. But now people are free to grab one of more than 5,000 copies of the December edition distributed inside Burma for the first time. The upcoming issue will be available in March.

They can read the once-banned publication in public. It is an exciting moment, especially for The Irrawaddy staff. Unlike Khin Nyunt, I do not think many current government and military officials will be advising, “Don’t read The Irrawaddy.” Instead, I am sure they will devour a copy with relish in their Naypyidaw offices.

I hope that President Thein Sein, who is known to enjoy reading, finds some time to pick up The Irrawaddy magazine, too. Hopefully, he has the strength of character to read stories that are critical of his government and move to address the issues concerned. I expect this will help him put 2012 in perspective and think ahead to 2013.

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mediaasia INSIGHTS

Journalism education:In defence of traditionDon’t abandon the basics, warn RichaRD ShafeR & RichaRD aReGooD.

RIcHARD SHAFER and RIcHARD AREGooD are journalism professors at the University of North dakota, Usa. e-mail: undprof1@gmail.com, raregood@yahoo.com.

MedIa asIa Vol. 40 No. 1, March 2013, pp. 14–15

There has been a revolution in commercial journalism world-wide. Distribution patterns for news have been upended and broadened. The business model is in chaos. The one

thing that has not changed is the basic practice of trying to be as fair, as thorough, as comprehensible and as well presented as possible. It is a hard job—one that requires skill, training and experience.

This is not to say that ‘citizen journalists’ cannot contribute to our knowledge. They can. Important things go out every day on Twitter, Facebook and blogs. But the most credible of these come from professionals such as the great American movie critic Roger Ebert, who has become a master of these relatively new channels.

Nowhere is the pressure to change felt more strongly in the United States, where each month delivers the obituary of yet another newspaper title. We know that media educators in Asia are following developments in America with great interest and some anxiety. Yet, as journalism professors in the United States, we believe that the es-sence of our job and the focus of our journalism courses should re-main the training of neophyte reporters and editors with traditional journalism skills and a commitment to fair and accurate presentation.

If our students can produce good news content, the task of up-loading it for dissemination on the Web or social media is a compara-tively easy one that requires little but the ability to acquire the proper technology and press the right button.

The kind of online and mostly partisan ‘journalism’ extolled by citizen journalists/bloggers adds to the quantity and volume of the discourse. But unfortunately the majority do not seem to want to do the hard work of intensive research, verification and utilisation of credible and informed sources.

Although opinion writing is a category of journalism, it is by no means the dominant category. It is at its best when the skill and hard work required to thoroughly report an issue are brought to bear.

The requirements are the same as those for reporting of major

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Those who primarily depend on their news and information from unreliable and biased blogs tend to shut themselves in an echo chamber of predictable opinion from the ideologically driven or ill-informed.

stories, which demand report-ing beyond the reach of one person with a computer and an attitude. The winners of the Pu-litzer Prize in the United States earn the award by long hours, weeks and even years of digging through vast piles of documents, interviewing sources and knock-ing on doors.

Those who primarily de-pend on their news and infor-mation from unreliable and bi-ased blogs tend to shut themselves in an echo chamber of predictable opinion from the ideologically driven or ill-informed. In the United States, polling results that show the most loyal viewers of politically slanted cable news are the least well-informed.

It might sound like we are taking an ethical stance with regard to advocating for objective journalism in journalism classrooms, but the imperative primarily is an economic one. If our graduates want to work as journalism professionals for the best media worldwide, they need to be solid on journalistic skills and conventions.

“Accuracy, accuracy, accuracy” was scrawled on the wall of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch when Joseph Pulitzer was the publisher. When it is possible, journalism students should be taught that striv-ing to achieve accuracy, along with social responsibility, is not only a higher calling but also remains the chief qualification for becoming a truly professional journalist and not just a pretend one.

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mediaasia INSIGHTS

‘Open government’ datashould boost accountabilityanupaMa DoKeniya argues for mandatory, demand-led transparency systems.

ANUpAMA DoKENIyA is a Governance specialist in the Public sector Governance Group at the World Bank. she works on the bank’s Governance and anti-Corruption strategy and leads analytical work on implementation of access to information reforms. this article was originally published on the World Bank’s blog, “People, spaces, deliberation”, http://blogs.worldbank.org/publicsphere/ on 19 July 2012.

MedIa asIaVol. 40 No. 1, March 2013, pp. 16–18

Even as the language of ‘Open Government’ has picked up steam over the past couple of years, driven initially by the’ and further boosted by the multi-lateral Open Government

Partnership, the use of the term has tended to be fairly broad and mostly imprecise, lacking a shared, consistent definition. As Nathan-iel Heller of Global Integrity, a key player in the OGP, cautioned in a blog, “The longer we allow ‘open government’ to mean any and eve-rything to anyone, the risk increases that the term melts into a hollow nothingness of rhetoric.”

In a recent useful piece, Harlan Yu and David Robinson draw a distinction between “the technologies of open data and the politics of open government”, suggesting that ‘open government data’ can be understood through two lenses: open ‘government data’ or ‘open gov-ernment’ data. The first approach reflects an emphasis on deploying the functionality of new information technologies to put government datasets in the public space in a way that is amenable to re-use and can be tied to a range of outcomes—among other things, improved delivery of services, innovation or efficiency. The second approach prioritises a mode of governance characterised by transparent deci-sion-making—particularly on issues of public interest and critical for public welfare—and the release of government data (and information in other formats as well) as furthering this goal of transparency.

The vision of the Obama Directive was broader than just a focus on transparency and extended to “transparency, participation, and collaboration”. Beth Noveck, former Head of the White House Open Government Initiative, underscored this point when she emphasised that open government was “never exclusively about making transpar-ent information about the workings of government”, but rather an in-novative strategy focusing on “using network technology to connect the public to government and to one another informed by open data”.

Attempting to provide a concrete and potentially shared defini-tion of open government, Heller highlights three dimensions: in-

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Making information publicly available through openness initiatives is the beginning, not the end, of a results chain that links openness to better governance and development outcomes, and requires looking at a number of issues.

formation transparency, public engagement and accountability. Both Heller and Yu and Robin-son recognise that while current technology trends have reincar-nated the idea of open govern-ment, and that technology can be a powerful enabler, the idea itself, and the principles it em-bodies, is technology-neutral.

To those working on gov-ernance issues at the bank, these concepts will, of course, resonate immediately. The triad of “transparency, accountability, and participation” has been central to the bank’s work on “Demand for Good Governance” and a key dimension of building states that were “capable and accountable”, as outlined in the 2007 Governance and Anti-corruption (GAC) Strategy and the 2012 Update to the Strategy. Following the framework provided by these key strategic documents, and more recently precipitated by the events of the Arab Spring, the bank has expanded its work on supporting transpar-ency, and fostering participation by a range of stakeholders—both as means of boosting more accountable governance.

The discussion on what open government means, what the driv-ing principles behind it, and how it is distinct from related concepts, is not merely of academic or theoretical interest. As ambitious data and information disclosure initiatives are launched with aspirations of creating transparency, participation, collaboration and account-ability, understanding the meaning, objectives and rationale for these policies is critical to assessing if investments are made in the right set of tools to achieve the intended set of outcomes.

Making information publicly available through openness initia-tives is the beginning, not the end, of a results chain that links open-ness to better governance and development outcomes, and requires looking at a number of issues. First, whether openness leads to ac-countable governance depends on the kind of information that is released. As Yu and Robinson point out, a government can provide ‘open data’ on politically neutral topics but still remain deeply opaque and unaccountable. Transpar-ency initiatives could release a goldmine of information in vari-ous formats, and of tremendous interest to academics, businesses

ReferencesYu, H., & Robinson, D. (2012). The New Ambiguity of ‘Open Government’. UCLA Law Review Vol. 178, pp. 178–208. California: UCLA School of Law.

18 INsIGHts

and other communities, but if this is not information that enables scrutiny of the decision-making, budget allocation, expenditures, performance, contracting or other such functions of government, it will have little bearing on improving accountability.

Yet, the information that extracts accountability for expenditures and performance—that enables corruption to be exposed—is pre-cisely the information that is particularly prone to being kept hidden, or released in un-usable and incomplete formats. So, second, the kind of transparency regime matters. Transparency systems that are mandatory and demand-driven—such as those relying on Right to Information laws—rather than voluntary and supply-driven, might be stronger because they create a legal obligation to both proactively, and on request, release the information necessary to monitor public finances and performance.

Third, the larger governance ecosystem matters. Transparency policies will achieve little if the political system does not create the incentives for officials to be sanctioned when corruption is exposed, for service providers to be penalised when poor performance or ab-senteeism is revealed, or for safeguards or structural reforms to be adopted when evidence of systemic governance problems emerge. While more recently, much attention has been placed on the capacity of citizens to use information, and on the role of media and civil so-ciety groups as intermediaries to make information more accessible, the extent to which the political space exists for them to exert influ-ence and effect change will determine the efficacy of their role.

19 NOteWOrtHY

mediaasia NOTEWORTHY

The Telecom revolution in India: Technology, policy and regulationBy Varadharajan Sridhar, India, Oxford University Press, 2012, 342 pp., US$ 64.75 (hardcover), ISBN 9780198075530

Review by MADANMOHAN RAOAsian Media Information and Communication Centre (AMIC), Singapore

India now has the world’s sec-ond largest mobile user base, and telecom contributes to over two per cent of India’s GDP. However, the scenario could be even better in terms of broad-band and rich-media penetra-tion, Internet telephony or tele-com manufacturing—and this is due to shortcomings in telecom policy-making, as argued in this insightful book by Varadharajan Sridhar (www.vsridhar.info).

The number of mobile sub-scribers will cross one billion in 2014. Unfortunately, the avail-ability, allocation and manage-ment of mobile spectrum have had a “chequered and contro-versial path” in India. It has been tough for new players to get a level playing field in a domain dominated by large incumbents; principles like Net Neutrality could become a challenge in India in the coming years. There have been restrictions on the interconnections between public

voice and data networks, which hamper the growth of the VSAT industry.

The delay in the launch of 3G services has hurt the industry and the economy, as well as potential innovators and start-ups in mobile rich-media. “Time lost is a drain on growth, a blow to economic develop-ment, and a hurdle for the dif-fusion of basic voice service in the country,” argues Sridhar. On the Internet front, broadband penetration is disappointing in terms of numbers and diffusion patterns. Though the Common Services Centres scheme had aimed at the launch of 100,000 centres across India, there are still problems with connectivity, services and human skills. The concluding chapter argues that the scale and speed of growth of India’s telecom sector call for a range of alliance models,

such as outright acquisitions or stake acquisitions for market access, technology hedging and technology control. The need of the hour is greater stability and vision in India’s telecom policies, Sridhar summarises. In sum, this is a very useful one-volume compendium of resources and analysis of the telecom sector in India, and should be relevant for all those interested in the larger long-term dimensions of the telecom sector in emerging economies.

Freedom on the Net, 2012Edited by Sanja Kelly, Sarah Cook and Mai TruongWashington D.C.: Freedom House, September 2012, 662pp. Retrieved on January 15, 2013 from: <http://www.freedom-house.org/report/freedom-net/freedom-net-2012>

Review by CHUA PUAY HOE, Royal Holloway, University of London

Freedom on the Net 2012 pre-sents the findings of a review on Internet freedom conducted by Freedom House. The authors have undertaken a challenging task, given that information of this nature is hard to come by and governments do not read-ily furnish information on the restrictive actions taken. Moreo-

20 NOteWOrtHY

ver, as mentioned in the report, “the methods of control are slowly evolving and becoming less visible” (p. 1), which further complicates the task.

Commendably, the authors have put together a trove of information for the countries reviewed. Each country profile paints a comprehensive picture of the local Internet landscape in terms of obstacles to access, limits on content and viola-tions of user rights. As part of an annual series, this report is an invaluable resource for re-searchers examining Internet freedom development over time. Particularly beneficial is that the authors flag key trends that people need to be aware of. As highlighted in this report, more governments are utilising less visible controls, such as transfer-ring the role of censorship to Internet intermediaries through vague liabilities laws and hiring paid commentators to influence opinions or spread misinforma-tion. The section on “countries at risk” also reminds readers that countries with rapid deteriora-tion of freedom require as much attention as those with high lev-els of control.

Readers, however, need to be mindful when interpreting the numerical values assigned to each country. The point system depends considerably on the due diligence and subjectivities of the country reporters from various backgrounds, such as civil soci-ety organisations, bloggers and academics. Although moderated by staff and local experts, there are still limitations in the scoring process. Hence, one can reason-ably compare countries with large disparity in points. How-ever, a difference of a few points

may not be meaningful to draw conclusions due to the subjective nature. On the whole, this report provides a good starting point for researchers. It also highlights the areas where more research could be carried out.

Access contested, Open Net InitiativesEdited By Ronald Deibert et al. Boston, MA: MIT Press, 2011432 pp., US$26 (paperback), ISBN: 9780262516808http://oni-access.net/contested/

Review by CHUA PUAY HOERoyal Holloway, University of London

Reporting on the research done by OpenNet Initiative, Access Contested is a well-edited vol-ume that scholars researching on Internet freedom in Asia will find valuable. Part One consists of theoretical analyses using various Asian countries as case studies. Using both primary and secondary research data, Part Two consists of country profiles of selected Asian countries. Packaged in an easy-to-access format, it allows one to locate the problematic areas of each country, as well as compare across the countries.

The authors analyse issues from multiple dimensions, such as legal framework, social norms and technical control, allowing readers to grasp the issue com-prehensively. Many of the au-thors in Part One view the issue from a subaltern counter-public position, showing how the sub-ordinated contest for space and access to expression online.

A key strength of this book

is its nifty balance between tech-nical details and socio-political analysis, particularly shown in the chapter by Nart Villeneuve and Masashi Crete-Nishihata. They structure the narrative with the technical process they utilised, but at the same time support it with the descrip-tion of relationships behind the Burmese hacker scene, making it an interesting read. While the investigation was not conclusive, the political analysis is helpful in showing that the usual pro- or anti-government conclusion is no longer adequate, as interests and allegiances do not fall neatly along such clear cleavages.

Peculiarly, Malaysia features strongly in this volume with two chapters devoted to it in Part One while Indonesia and India are only accorded pages for country profiles in Part Two. Additional analysis on these much more populous countries with rapidly growing numbers of Internet users would have strengthened the book’s rel-evance to more researchers.

On the whole, the themes highlighted in this book are widely applicable and the com-prehensive coverage provides a good starting point for any re-searcher in Internet freedom.

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mediaasia CASEFILE

As social media becomes ubiquitous in urban life, governments around the world are attempting to use these tech-

nologies for service delivery and policy engage-ment. The United Nations E-government Report 2012 revealed that 40 percent of 78 UN member countries had a statement saying “Follow us on Facebook and Twitter” on their websites. The Sin-gapore government is no exception in its hopes to reach out to digital citizens on their own turf.

E-engagement, in its most basic form, is “en-gaging the public in policy processes through an electronic network” (Saxena, 2005). This could include anything from providing transactional services—such as online income tax payment—to empowering citizen participation in the policy-making process. Scholars note that different types of e-engagement are associated with different lev-els of citizen participation. Governments may use e-tools for three purposes:• Informing:aone-wayrelationshipinwhich

government produces and delivers informa-tion for use by citizens.

Social media and e-engagementThe Singapore casecheonG Kah Shin

• Consulting:atwo-wayrelationshipinwhichcitizens provide feedback to government based on prior definition of information. However, governments define the issues for consultation and set and manage the process, while citizens are invited to contribute their views and opinions.

• Empoweringactiveparticipation:atwo-wayrelationship based on a partnership with gov-ernment in which citizens engage in defining the process and content of policy making. It acknowledges equal standing for citizens in setting the agenda, although the responsibil-ity for the final decision rests with the gov-ernment (Macintosh, 2003).As we shall see, Singapore’s emphasis is main-

ly on the first and, to a lesser extent, the second goals.

Evolution of e-Engagement in SingaporeSingapore currently uses a plethora of e-tools such as an online feedback website, REACH (http://

CHeONG KaH sHIN is research assistant at the Institute of Policy studies, lee Kuan Yew school of Public Policy, National University of singapore.MedIa asIa 40(1), pp. 21–26

The case: Opponents of the state in Singapore were quick to harness the Internet and social

media. State actors are now embracing the same tools to reach out to citizens.

Its value: This case adds to the body of evidence that social media are not inherently

democratising or destabilising, since they can be used by incumbents as well as by their

opponents. It is also relevant to new media research within the fields of organisational and

promotional communication.

22 CasefIle

www.reach.gov.sg/) and, more recently, social media to engage its citizens. The government is no stranger to e-engagement. As early as 1994, it launched the Singapore InfoMAP, one of the world’s first government portals. The informa-tion minister at the time, George Yeo, said that the government knew it needed to “stake out a pres-ence” and “build a Singapore neighbourhood” on the Internet, which he likened to a virtual city. It was also aware that e-engagement would be tough but necessary. Demonstrating the government’s foresight, Yeo said that “the challenge to create interest in the Singapore neighbourhood in cyber-space” would not only involve being informative, but entertaining in order to draw eyeballs in an era of information overload (Yeo, 1995).

Despite the early start, e-engagement was al-ways an uphill struggle for the government. The Internet was, after all, a very different environ-ment from what it was used to. With multiple and fragmented voices, the online environment was chaotic compared to the gatekept safehoods of the mainstream media. Critics were empowered with their own media to put forth contentious points of views. This was certainly not the norm in Singa-pore’s pre-Internet era, when the media environ-ment was considerably more manicured.

Entering the Web 2.0 era, the government convened an Advisory Council on the Impact of New Media on Society (AIMS) to “study the impli-cations the fast-developing new media would have on our society and suggest ways to manage them”. The 229-page AIMS report of 2008 included a full chapter on e-engagement, which it described as “a sustained form of interaction between Govern-ment and citizens on issues of public policy”. Over and above providing feedback on pre-defined gov-ernment consultation agendas, AIMS envisioned e-engagement as a ‘bottom-up’ process where citi-zens are given greater autonomy in framing policy agendas and shaping policy discussions.

The panel also noted that a lack of success in e-engagement would run the risk of online citizen-to-citizen dialogue spreading without input from

the state. This could lead to a public “with its own agenda and an understandable hostility to deci-sion making processes that seem to ignore them”, the committee said, quoting e-governance scholar Stephen Coleman. The government’s response was lukewarm, neither accepting nor rejecting every suggestion from AIMS. It did not accept, for example, a recommendation to engage with independent blogs, saying that this would “require a huge amount of resources to e-engage on a mul-titude of online platforms” and this would not be “realistic or efficient”. Instead, the government would use its own platform REACH to engage citizens, though the currency of this avenue was found to be low in focus groups.

This is not to say that e-engagement was absent in these early 2000s. It was present but in limited ways. E-engagement fulfilled transactional purposes such as providing policy information through websites and online payment facilities for income taxes. More adventurous politicians such as ex-foreign Minister George Yeo started using social media to communicate personal thoughts as early as 2008. The Health Minister then, Khaw Boon Wan, also started a blog to communicate health policy in a personable manner. Such social media efforts, while present, were few and ad-hoc then.

However, the general election of 2011 ushered in a palpable shift in the government’s communi-cation strategy. The election saw a six-point de-cline in the share of the popular vote for the ruling People’s Action Party (PAP), which also lost one group constituency to the opposition. Although the precise role of the Internet in this swing re-mains debated (IPS Impact of Internet on General Election Survey 2011), it was clear that citizens were frenetically using Facebook, Twitter, You-Tube and other online platforms to share messages about the campaign. Anti-PAP chatter was rife.

After the election, government leaders started openly recognising the influence of cyberspace on public opinion and acknowledging the need to en-gage with Singaporeans online, especially to reach

23 sOCIal MedIa aNd e-eNGaGeMeNt

the young. In his National Day Rally 2011, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong said: “We have got to get there, be in cyberspace and use it construc-tively to explain issues, to shape opinions, to rally support and to make Singapore work better.”

There is currently no single e-engagement strategy. Instead, a range of strategies is being tried out, depending on the actors involved and their goals. Aside from old platforms like REACH, it is possible to identify at least three newer aspects of e-engagement that deserve separate analysis: the platforms of individual politicians; the platforms of ministries and other state agencies; and engage-ment through third-party platforms.

Individual Politicians’ PlatformsSince 2008 at least, Singapore ministers and other politicians have started blogs and Facebook pages to manage their reputations and engage citizens in policy matters. Some politicians like Housing Minister Khaw Boon Wan, Acting Manpower Minister Tan Chuan Jin and Opposition Member of Parliament Chen Show Mao have said that they manage their Facebook accounts personally, while others like Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong use aides to do so.

On Facebook, politicians usually try to soften and humanise their image by posting inspiring quotes, endearing family anecdotes and photo-graphs of house visits or constituency events. As for engaging citizens on more substantive issues, they post personal thoughts on policy or share ar-ticles from local and foreign news media.

Khaw’s ‘Housing Matters’ blog (http://mn-dsingapore.wordpress.com/tag/housing-matters/) communicates complex housing policy with a per-sonal touch. His posts try to appear sincere and well thought out, explaining policy thinking while simultaneously demonstrating empathy for Singa-poreans anxious about the affordability of public housing, which had been one of the major election issues in 2011.

Some politicians have tried to use social me-dia more systematically as a consultation tool. PAP

backbencher Baey Yam Keng, for example, has been conducting live chats via Facebook every first Sun-day of the month. Each live chat session is similar to an online town-hall meeting where Baey solicits feedback on policy matters and allows citizens to raise their own issues. Baey says he has tapped on concerns raised through social media when fram-ing his Parliamentary questions. Cabinet minister Chan Chun Sing has also been using Facebook to consult citizens on policy. A thread soliciting opin-ions on a proposed Internet code of conduct, for example, drew over a thousand comments.

While online feedback is good for crowd-sourcing and sounding out weak signals to policy problems, it has its own limitations. Social me-dia does not reach out to all: a recent IPS survey found that only 30 percent of Singaporeans used Facebook and blogs to consume information on politics during the 2011 election (IPS Internet and General Elections Survey 2011). Scholars have also pointed to online anonymity, which could lead to astro-turfing. Taking those two factors into ac-count, social media can only be used as a ‘dipstick’ for public opinion, and it should be triangulated with offline engagement for a more accurate as-sessment of the situation, Chan noted (interview with Chan Chun Sing, 16 May 2012).

Besides consultation, politicians have also been using social media to respond to news events more freely than before. Facebook provides a plat-form that is less serious and formal than a state-ment issued through one’s press secretary. Instead of waiting to be asked by a reporter who is subject to the news cycle and editors’ news judgments, the politician can now communicate personally and instantaneously on various controversies. Further-more, while the PAP is a party that imposes tight discipline, social media has allowed its politicians to reveal personal opinions before waiting for the official party line.

Ministries’ PlatformsToday, government agencies use a broad spectrum of online channels from websites to social media

24 CasefIle

platforms (such as Facebook, Twitter and You-Tube) and mobile apps for a range of communica-tions purposes, including explaining government policies, providing public education, marketing official events and public or stakeholder engage-ment.

Many of these initiatives can also be found at the Singapore Government Social Media Directo-ry (www.socialmedia.gov.sg), a platform managed by the Ministry of Communication and Informa-tion (MCI). An online portal for news, speeches and press releases, gov.sg, also has mobile apps for iPhones and android phones. It provides the pub-lic quick access to key government-related news and information on the go.

Studies like IPS’ media use survey in 2010 have shown that while online media have risen in reach and influence, offline media (print, TV) re-main the leading sources of news and views on lo-cal issues. Thus, the actual mix of channels used in each case of policy communication also depends on a basket of considerations, such as the content, messages and audience demographics.

Just as with traditional offline communica-tions, each government agency decides when and how to use online channels for its own official communications. It then takes steps to strengthen internal capabilities where needed. MCI provides overall support, advice and guidelines to agencies. MCI officers are also posted to ministries to sup-port these ministries’ communication efforts, in-cluding online media communications. MCI has also been working with the Civil Service College to enhance new media training programmes in a number of competency areas for public servants (interview with MICA, April 2012).

Third-party PlatformsGovernment officials are increasingly engaging with the owners of third-party platforms, be it to outsource functions to those with more online clout or to forge new ties with those it has previ-ously dismissed.

Some ministers, such as K. Shanmugam and

Tan Chuan Jin, also invite online opinion-mak-ers to offline tea sessions and personal chats, as a means of soft engagement. These sessions are off-the-record and the public does not know what goes on behind closed doors. Though many blog-gers welcome this detente, several are wary of this sudden change in policy. They suspect it to be a form of co-option or a ‘charm offensive’ to get bloggers to pull their punches.

While informal engagements exist, ministers are also beginning to engage formally by granting alternative media exclusive interviews. Yahoo!, for example, had an exclusive interview with Law Min-ister K. Shanmugam in which he covered an array of controversial topics, including laws like the Inter-nal Security Act and the mandatory death penalty. More recently, the government has considered ac-crediting alternative media with press passes, giving its reporters more access to official events.

Today, the government is certainly observing alternative media, and using professional software and horizon-scanning tools to monitor a frag-mented online media sphere. But it still prefers to engage on its own platforms such as Facebook and REACH. In the words of one established blogger, Siew Kum Hong: “Instead of going to where the conversation is taking place to engage people, the government seems to be content with just waiting for the conversation to come to it—but that will not happen, and instead the only people who will go to the government’s platforms will be people with an agenda.”

Indeed, the quality of commentary on gov-ernment channels and in the general blogosphere differs, with prominent online opinion leaders of-ten existing outside government channels instead of within them. The divide is palpable, although netizens are increasingly re-posting critical com-mentary in government forums like REACH.

Though there are signs that they want to reach out to bloggers, PAP politicians still do not tolerate attacks that they see as defamatory. Blog-gers have received defamation threats from law-yers representing ministers.

25 sOCIal MedIa aNd e-eNGaGeMeNt

Evaluating e-EngagementGiven how new Singapore politicians are to social media, it is not surprising that things have not always gone smoothly. For example, the National Development Minister’s frequent posts on his blog initially confused property developers, who did not know whether to regard some of his posts as official policy announcements or his personal thoughts. Furthermore, the spontaneity of Face-book sometimes results in a lack of coordination. For instance, responding to a public controversy over a racist comment by a union executive, the Prime Minister said in a Facebook post that this was “an isolated case that does not reflect the strength of race relations in Singapore” while the law minister posted on his Facebook that “the inci-dent confirms what I had long suspected and said: there are deep fault lines in our society, based on race/religion”. The social media responses of two heavyweight ministers appeared uncoordinated, unlike previous ruling party responses that exuded a uniform and officious stance.

More fundamentally, it is not always clear what criteria are to be used when one evaluates the government’s e-engagement practices. In-ternationally, one set of criteria has been devel-oped by the digital community-engagement firm CivicPlus. Measuring factors such as the crowd-sourcing of ideas or how much e-engagement aids government transparency, the emphasis is on e-democracy, that is, enhancing citizen repre-sentation through electronic means. Similarly, the United Nations’ e-participation index is based on how much citizen participation websites enable, through e-information, e-consultation and e-de-cision making.

It is not clear whether such considerations are paramount in the Singapore government’s e-engagement strategies, although Singapore is frequently a topper on the UN’s e-participation rankings. This metric is, however, not without its own limitations. It mainly assesses the supply side of e-government services, rather than citizen atti-tudes and demands towards these services (United

Nations E-government Survey 2010). A detailed evaluation of the latter is much needed.

Currently, rather than the e-democracy frame favoured by e-governance scholars, the Singapore government may be implicitly applying an organi-sational communications frame to e-engagement, which is less civic-centric. While urging citizens to come forth and air constructive opinions through online and offline means “to do good and do right for Singapore”, PM Lee also stated the aims of e-engagement in his National Day Rally 2011: “We have got to get there, be in cyberspace and use it constructively to explain issues, to shape opinions, to rally support and to make Singapore work bet-ter.” Seen in that light, the most important bench-mark may be viewership, whether counted by page hits for websites or ‘likes’ for Facebook. More sophisticated measures would include ‘sentiment analysis’ by social media evaluation companies. These try to determine the extent to which posi-tive or negative sentiment has been generated for a particular subject.

From a more political point of view, the PAP, which now occupies 80 out of the 87 elected seats in Parliament, needs to keep pace with the oppo-sition popularity online. In this respect, there is mixed evidence. Opposition figures like ex-lawyer Chen Show Mao and young politician Nicole Seah enjoy huge popularity on Facebook, the former having over 30,000 likes and the latter with over 100,000 likes on Facebook. So far, the only PAP politician with larger numbers is the Prime Min-ister himself.

Then again, online popularity does not mean Parliamentary power. Nicole Seah, who was wildly popular online, lost the 2011 election to a heavy-weight senior minister with barely any online pres-ence. The number of comments on social media also means little when trolling is a norm: Quantity engagement does not mean quality engagement. It is also relevant to consider e-engagement within the larger media ecosystem, including mainstream media and offline engagement. Since mainstream media consumption is high (IPS Media Use and

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Political Traits Survey 2010) and government mes-sages pervasive there, one could to consider if citi-zens are incentivised to stay tuned to the govern-ment’s online channels, especially when its online messages are similar to offline ones.

Yet, increased e-engagement post-GE2011 could mean that PAP politicians—the majority in government—are trying in earnest to catch up with political opponents in the online field. In-creased e-engagement via social media may be the new normal in a ‘consultative government’ that a new generation of PAP leaders promise. But what all this will mean at the ballot box is yet another question with no clear answers at present.

Questions for discussion1. Do social media suit opponents of a regime

more than the regime in power?2. What are the relevant e-engagement bench-

marks for public sector organisations and commercial organisations?

Further ReadingAdvisory of Impact of New Media on Society

(2008). Engaging new media: Challenging old assumptions. Retrieved 6 February 2013 from http://app.mica.gov.sg/Data/0/AIMS%20Re-port%20%28Dec%2008%29%20-%20Engag-ing%20New%20Media,%20Challenging%20Old%20Assumptions.pdf

Clarke, A. (2010) Social media: Political uses and implications for representative de-mocracy. Retrieved 19 May 2012 from http : / /w w w.p ar l . gc .c a/Content/LOP/ResearchPublications/2010-10-e.htm

Macintosh, A. (2003). Using information and com-munication technologies to enhance citizen engagement in the policy process. In J. Caddy & C. Vergez (Eds.), Promises and problems of e-democracy: Challenges of online citizen en-gagement. Paris, France: OECD.

Mahizhnan, A. (2012). New media: Can old rules apply?. Global-is-Asian, Issue 13, Jan–Mar 2012. Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, Singapore.

George, C. (2013). For whom the libel tolls: Gov-ernment loses even as it wins. Retrieved 1 February 2013 from http://journalism.sg/2013/01/04/for-whom-the-libel-tolls-gov-ernment-loses-even-as-it-wins/.

ReferencesAdvisory of Impact of New Media on Society

(2008) Engaging New Media: Challenging Old Assumptions. Retrieved 6 Nov 2012 from http://app.mica.gov.sg/Data/0/AIMS%20Re-port%20%28Dec%2008%29%20-%20Engag-ing%20New%20Media,%20Challenging%20Old%20Assumptions.pdf

CivicPlus. CivicPlus website. Retrieved 3 Decem-ber 2012 from www.civicplus.com

Lee, H. L. (2011). National day rally speech 2011. Speech delivered 14 August 2011. Retrieved 19 November 2012 from http://www.pmo.gov.sg/content/pmosite/mediacentre/speechesnin-terviews/primeminister/2011/August/Prime_Minister_Lee_Hsien_Loongs_National_Day_Rally_2011_Speech_in_English.html

Macintosh, A. (2003) Using information and com-munication technologies to enhance citizen engagement in the policy process. In J. Caddy & C. Vergez (Eds.), Promises and problems of e-democracy: Challenges of online citizen en-gagement. Paris, France: OECD.

Saxena, K. B. C. (2005). Towards excellence in e-governance. International Journal of Public Sector Management, 18(6), pp. 498–513

Tan, T. H., Chung, S., & Zhang, W. Survey on me-dia traits and political use. Retrieved 19 Febru-ary 2012 from http://www.spp.nus.edu.sg/ips/ACM_Survey_on_Political_Traits_and_Me-dia_Use_2011.aspx

Tan, T. H., Mahizhnan, A., & Ang, P. H. Media myths and realities: Findings of national sur-vey of media use in the general elections. Re-trieved 19 February 2012 from http://www.spp.nus.edu.sg/ips/docs/events/Impact%20on%20new%20media_041011/S1_1_Tan%20Tarn%20How_0410.pdf

UN E-government Survey: Leveraging e-govern-ment at a time of financial and economic crisis 2010, http://www2.unpan.org/egovkb/global_reports/10report.htm

Yeo, G. Speech by George Yeo at the launch of Sin-gapore Infomap. Retrieved 19 February 2013 from http://a2o.nas.sg/stars/public/index.html.

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mediaasia CASEFILE

From fashion to the hereafter:Indonesia’s Republika, a modern Islamic newspaperJanet Steele

JaNet steele is associate Professor at the school of Media and Public affairs, George Washington University, Usa.MedIa asIa 40(1), pp. 27–33

Is there such a thing as Islamic journalism? And if so, what does it look like?

The claim that in Islam religion cannot be divorced from secular life is a familiar one, and the Islamic revivalism of the late twentieth century has prompted some scholars to argue for an Is-lamic theory of communication (Mowlana, 2003, p. 309). Others disagree with this view, warning against reductionism and observing that many dif-ferent kinds of media are consumed by a variety of Muslims in a wide range of countries that may or may not be majority Muslim (Khibany, 2006, pp. 5–7).

Although journalists at Indonesia’s Republika newspaper may not be aware of the academic ar-guments that inform this debate, they nevertheless wrestle with these concerns every day. Founded in 1993, Republika has an explicit mission: to serve the Muslim community. With an estimated circu-

lation of 70,000 and a readership of perhaps two to four times that number, it reaches a largely mid-dle-class audience of readers between the ages of 20 and 40.2

Indonesia is the world’s most populous Mus-lim country, but there has long been a feeling that Muslims have been ‘marginalised’ despite being the numerical majority. Although there is a long tradition of an ‘Islamic press’ in Indonesia, these papers have generally had small circulations and been short-lived. Republika, a large, mass-market-ed daily that has now thrived for 20 years, is an exception. According to the fourth quarter 2012 Nielson report, Republika is the third most-read newspaper in Indonesia.3

Founded in 1993 with the blessing of then-president Suharto and the financial support of Ikatan Cendekiawan Muslim Indonesia (ICMI), the Association of Indonesian Muslim Intellectu-

The case: Republika is Indonesia’s largest Islamic newspaper. Founded in 1993 with the blessing

of President Suharto and the financial support of the Association of Indonesian Muslim

Intellectuals (ICMI), Republika is now published by a media holding company.

Its value: This case illustrates a number of important themes in Asian media studies, including

the relationship between journalism and Islam, the difficulties of maintaining independence

under an authoritarian regime, and the advantages and disadvantages of commercialisation.

We cover everything from fashion to the hereafter. – Subroto1

28 CasefIle

als, Republika is now published by Mahaka Media, a business venture with many media holdings. Its history illustrates a number of important themes in Asian media studies, including the relationship between journalism and Islam, the difficulties of maintaining independence under an authoritar-ian regime, and the advantages and disadvantages of commercialisation. The case of Republika also suggests what the Islamic press in Indonesia might have to offer other developing democracies in the Muslim world.

Journalism and IslamWhen you first visit the office of Republika at No. 37 Jl. Warung Buncit, it does not look very differ-ent from any other Indonesian newspaper. Oddly shaped, with a large spiral staircase, the building was originally intended to be an ‘entertainment venue’, complete with a sauna on the fourth floor. There is nothing about it to suggest that it houses Indonesia’s largest and most influential Islamic newspaper.

At Republika, there is no Islamic attire, no white robes or long beards. Although many of the female reporters and editors wear headscarves, there are also some who do not. Like attending Friday prayers, “it is a private, individual matter”, says Nasihin Masha, the current chief editor.

Despite the lack of Islamic ‘symbols’, there is no question that Republika is a newspaper with the explicit goal of serving the Muslim commu-nity. Nasihin likes to say that Republika has five basic principles: It is modern, moderate, Muslim, nationalist and populist.4

Republika’s previous chief editor, Ikhwanul Kiram Mashuri, a graduate of both the modern pesantren Gontor and al-Azhar University in Cai-ro, is even more explicit about Republika’s mission as a Muslim community newspaper. In an in-house history of the paper, he wrote, “From the first page to the last … there is nothing outside of the frame-work of amar makruf nahi munkar [inviting good and forbidding wrong]” (Utomo, 2010, p. 1).

Scholars have argued that in Islam, ‘forbid-

ding wrong’ is paramount, and that Muslims have an obligation to stop evil when they see it (Cook, 2003). This doctrine is essential not only to Islam but also to the practice of journalism in both Indo-nesia and Malaysia, even among journalists who work for the so-called secular media. When asked to explain the meaning of their work, Muslim jour-nalists express the universal values of journalism, but do so within an Islamic idiom. These universal values include truthfulness, balance, verification and independence from power, but the paraideol-ogy is ‘justice’ (Steele, 2011).

The struggle for economic justice and pro-tection of the weak that are fundamental to Islam (Lewis, 1988; Aslan, 2005) are also enduring values in the practice of Indonesian journalism. As for-mer Tempo magazine editor Goenawan Mohamad once said, “It is very difficult in Indonesia if you don’t speak about justice. Indonesian history is the history of searching for justice, more than search-ing for freedom” (quoted in Steele, 2005, p. 23).

But how are such abstract principles imple-mented in practical journalism? Journalists at Re-publika often speak of the need to be inspiratif, or inspiring. As managing editor Elba Damhuri explains, in practice, this means not only report-ing on conditions as they are but also giving inspi-ration as to how they should be, and this is what makes Republika different from other media.

“This is what I mean by ‘substantial’ Islam,” he said. “We cannot stand by and watch our neigh-bours, who are poor, this is wrong. We cannot see churches burned. This is not permitted. We can-not allow Ahmadiyah communities to be burned. We work because we have something to say: toler-ance. This is substantial Islam.”5

When Syahrudin El Fikri, a senior editor at Republika, compares his paper with other Indone-sian newspapers like Tempo, a majority of whose journalists are also Muslim, he agrees that the religious creed of the journalists is the same. But what will be different, he suggests, is Republika’s focus on solutions. When there is violence against Ahmadiyah, Tempo will cover it by focusing on

29 frOM fasHION tO tHe Hereafter

the lack of tolerance. “We see it from a different perspective,” Syahrudin said. “We look to create a solution, not to add to the anxiety [kegelisahan]. Tempo will likewise focus on the problem of cor-ruption. Yes, we have to shine a light on corrup-tion, but how do we find a solution? How can it be solved in a positive way? In this manner, we are very different.”6

ICMI, Republika and the Press in the New OrderThe history of Republika is profoundly connected with the history of the press in modern Indonesia, and with the end of authoritarianism. Like a set of Russian dolls within dolls, the story of Republika—founded in 1993 by ICMI—can actually be traced all the way back to 1945.

Under President Suharto’s New Order gov-ernment, Indonesia’s press was tightly controlled through a series of regulations enacted and en-forced by the Ministry of Information. Although the Basic Press Act of 1966 explicitly guaranteed freedom of the press in accordance with the fun-damental rights of citizens, would-be press en-trepreneurs were required to obtain a press pub-lication enterprise permit, or SIUPP (Surat Izin Usaha Penerbitan Pers), before they could publish a newspaper or magazine. As David Hill has writ-ten, during the Suharto years, a news organisation had to produce “a raft of more than a dozen letters and preliminary permits, including letters of sup-port from all relevant professional organizations (the Indonesian Journalists Association and the [Newspaper] Publishers’ Association) at both the regional and national level, several permits from civilian and military authorities, [and] supporting letters from the financing bank and the printing company” (1994, p. 48).

When ICMI sought permission to publish a newspaper, it was fortunate to be able to draw upon the staff of Berita Buana, a paper that had been shut down one year earlier by an owner who feared that his permit would be withdrawn. That paper had, in turn, existed since 1945, and gone

through a number of incarnations, most recently being revitalised by a group of journalists who left Tempo magazine in the early 1990s. ICMI could thus rely upon a highly professional stable of jour-nalists trained in the style of Tempo and known for their integrity and hard-hitting journalism.

ICMI also had a complex history. Founded in 1990 and under the chairmanship of Minister of Research and Technology B. J. Habibie, ICMI was an incongruous mix of independent intellectuals, activists and government bureaucrats who hoped to curry favour with the regime. It was considered by many to be little more than a vehicle for Su-harto’s own re-election (Hefner, 1993).

Yet when the more progressive wing of ICMI combined with the former Berita Buana journal-ists, together they created a newspaper that was remarkable in its early days for a kind of ‘cosmo-politan Islam’ that indirectly challenged the au-thoritarianism of the very regime that had spon-sored it.7 Despite the obvious political pressures, Republika journalists were committed to creating a newspaper that was “tolerant, plural, and mod-ern, as well as pious and critical” (Hefner, 1997, p. 97).

During its first few years, Republika was the vessel for a remarkable range of Islamic discourse, especially in the pages of the weekly Dialog Ju-mat or Friday Dialogue. With an editorial board and council made up of some of Indonesia’s most respected Muslim scholars, including Nurcholis Madjid, Haider Bagir and Amien Rais, the stable of editors and writers was a ‘who’s who’ of Muslim intellectuals. Former Berita Buana journalist Daru Priyambodo explained:

The kind of Islam we tried to serve with this newspaper was cosmopolitan Islam, urban Islam. We wanted an Islam that was educated, open-minded, and that under-stood Islamic values. And that wasn’t too quick to say that the other person is kafir [unbeliever/infidel]! But we weren’t able to succeed, because there was too much pressure from other Islamic groups.8

The problem with being ICMI’s newspa-

30 CasefIle

per was that everyone thought they owned a piece of it, and it was impossible not to become politi-cised. According to journalists who were working for Republika at the time, the biggest change in the newspaper did not occur when Suharto resigned, but rather before. On 29 May 1997, the exact date of the Indonesian election, Muhammadiyah head Amien Rais wrote a column entitled ‘Kejujuran’ [Honesty], in which he called upon “all of us, the people, the government, and those running the election” to uphold honesty and justice (quoted in Utomo, 2010, p. 31). Again, according to Daru,

Suharto was very angry, and he demand-ed that the chief editor be changed. And Parni Hadi [the chief editor] stepped down, and was exchanged with a Habibie man who had no background in journal-ism. He was a good person, but he was asked to keep an eye on things so that nothing was published that was would make Habibie angry, Suharto angry, or the military angry. When this happened, for those of us inside, it was hopeless.9

Commercial Media and the Indonesian Middle ClassIn 2010, Republika celebrated its seventeenth birthday with the publication of an in-house his-tory (Utomo, 2010). In that book, the newspaper’s history is divided into two periods: the ‘political’ period under ICMI and the ‘business’ period un-der Mahaka.

In 1999, after B. J. Habibie was defeated in the presidential election, Republika foundered. Despite its progressive elements, ICMI had been a creature of the Suharto regime. Times had changed, and Republika needed a new investor. In 2000, Mahaka Media bought Republika and changed its economic basis, if not its Islamic ori-entation.

Pointing out that one reason for the frequent failures of Islamic media in Indonesia was that they were not on a sound financial footing, Ma-haka CEO Erick Thorir promised that Republika would continue to serve the Muslim community

but on a commercial basis. With a new emphasis on advertising and marketing, the paper would thrive.

To a very large extent, this has happened. The newspaper is now a successful business venture. As the in-house history notes, Republika has dis-pelled the myth that Islamic media is a poor place in which to advertise. Today’s readers are from Indonesia’s urban middle class, comfortable with both their religious values and a more consumer-oriented lifestyle. In this way. Republika also re-flects what Ariel Heryanto (2011, pp. 60–82) has described, as the new Muslim middle-class values apparent in the beautiful clothes and exotic lo-cations of the pious tearjerker ‘Ayat Ayat Cinta’ [Verses of Love]. Perhaps not coincidentally, ‘Ayat Ayat Cinta’ was first published in Republika as a serial story and later as a novel (El Shirazy, 2004).

Every Tuesday, Republika publishes a special supplement called ‘Leisure’. The section contains interesting and readable articles on fashion, food, travel and beauty tips. Although the supplement has a section called ‘Hijabbers’ Corner’, not all of the models in ‘Leisure’ are shown wearing hijab or head scarves.

Each Monday afternoon there is a weekly meeting that includes editors not only from ‘Lei-sure’ but also from the other supplements, includ-ing Gen-I (aimed mainly at the 20-somethings), ‘Islam Digest’ (Islam and the history of worship), and ‘Dialog Jumat’ or Friday Dialogue. Assistant managing editor Subroto, who presides over the meeting, explains that the ‘Leisure’ section is something that can be enjoyed by all. “We wanted something that can serve all our readers,” he said. “We were too masculine. Our readers are educat-ed; Islam doesn’t have to be stiff—it can be mod-ern. The image of Islam doesn’t have to be harsh. We want to build a house for all groups.”10

What differentiates ‘Leisure’ from women’s sections in other newspapers is the context of Re-publika itself. As ‘Leisure’ editor Indira Rezkisari noted, “I’m sure our readers read the other sec-tions, including ‘Islam Digest’ and ‘Dialogue Ju-

31 frOM fasHION tO tHe Hereafter

mat’.” Of course, she joked, “Our readers don’t pray all the time!”11

Is Republika a better, more independent newspaper now that it is run on a commercial ba-sis than it was under the controlled press of the Suharto years? This question is difficult to answer.

On the surface, it is obvious that, as with the rest of the Indonesian press, the news that is pub-lished in Republika is much more comprehensive and hard-hitting now that it was before. The kinds of issues that the paper reports on—corruption, poverty, politics and economics—are done with an openness and vigour that was simply not possible during the Suharto years (Romano, 2003).

Clearly, Republika’s market segment has become more important, and drives story selection. As chief editor Nasihin Masha explained, “like toothpaste”, each media has its own segment, and Republika is a Muslim community newspaper. As a result, the paper focuses more on Islamic political parties and matters of interest to the Muslim community than one would find in other Indonesian newspapers. An-ything deemed ‘pornographic’, including photos of women in skimpy clothing, is completely off limits.12 One frequently hears the statement that Republika is a family newspaper, and something that everyone in the house should be comfortable reading.

It is instructive to compare the post-ICMI Republika with Tempo newspaper, which was es-tablished in 2000 and employs a number of ex-Republika journalists who left the paper during the upheaval that occurred around the time of the change in ownership. Both papers have attractive, modern designs and use clear, straightforward lan-guage. The most readily apparent difference is Re-publika’s position on issues touching on freedom of expression. Whereas a number of Republika journalists may not personally object to Indone-sian Playboy magazine, Lady Gaga or discussions of the biography of Canadian lesbian-Muslim writer Irshad Manji, the newspaper as an institu-tion opposes them. The reverse is true at Tempo. Why? For Republika’s journalists the explanation is clear: “Because of our readers.”

In ‘Dialog Jumat’ and the other supplements that focus on religion, Republika also appears to be less willing to take on controversial positions that run the risk of offending the readers. Whereas in the early 1990s, the ‘Friday Dialogue’ section incorporated a wide range of opinion, including those of feminists, religious ‘liberals’, experts on human rights and even non-Muslims, today’s sec-tions on religion cater to the majority view. For example, during a recent controversy over a fatwa by the Indonesian Council of Ulama (MUI) against the banning of female circumcision, Republika stayed out of the debate. Although the controversy was widely reported in other Indonesian media, Republika published only a page-12 news story on the fatwa, and editors said they were unlikely to follow up with additional coverage on their ‘Pro/Kontra’ page.13

In a small discussion with its editors, the con-sensus was that reporting on the ‘pros and cons’ of female circumcision was “too much bother”, and that the issue had already been covered. “We can debate about this endlessly, or we can just agree to stop debating,” said one. “It’s counterproductive,” said another. “It’s just wasting time.”14

As the lack of debate on the topic of female circumcision within the pages of Republika sug-gests, it is possible that when the paper was sub-sidised by ICMI, it may have actually been freer to lead the Muslim community by providing a wide range of viewpoints. Although today’s Republika journalists point proudly to how Erick Thorir and Mahaka have taken Republika out of politics and placed it on a sound business footing, it is hard not to conclude that the newspaper has paid a price for this shift towards commercialisation, now repeat-ing the conventional wisdom rather than challeng-ing the perceived interests of either the readers or the advertisers.

Journalism, Islam, DemocracyIn the words of managing editor Elba Damhuri, it is a ‘dilemma’ to run an Islamic newspaper in Indo-nesia because nobody agrees on what Islam should

32 CasefIle

be.15 Even a simple question such as when the fast-ing month of Ramadan begins can be problematic, as Indonesia’s two largest religious organisations, Muhammadiyah and Nahdlatul Ulama (NU), fre-quently celebrate it at different times.16 As news-room editor Asep K. Nurzaman explained, one definition of tolerance is “how to live peacefully, not only between religions but also between NU and Muhammadiyah”.17

Assistant managing editor Heri Ruslan, who is also the editor of Republika Online (ROL), likewise explains that there are many different mazhab or schools in Indonesian Islam, and that each one thinks it is right. “So no matter what ROL includes, someone is angry,” he said. “They com-plain via Twitter and Facebook, and urge others to stop subscribing.”18

Since its founding, Republika has had to han-dle pressure from both inside Islam and out. With a mixture of pride and ruefulness, Republika jour-nalists can recite a list of the occasions in which the newspaper has been demonstrated against by Islamic organisations that have objected to some-thing they published.

Yet this critical give and take, be it in the pages of the newspaper or on Twitter or Facebook, is the essence of freedom of expression in a democracy. If no one has access to the absolute truth, then all citizens should be sceptical of the truth of their own opinions. This Lockean understanding of re-ligious freedom stands in marked contrast to the situation in neighbouring Malaysia, where state authorities have the right to determine what is and is not ‘Islamic’ (Steele, forthcoming).

As the 2010 Arab Spring witnessed numerous Muslim nations struggling to throw off the chains of authoritarianism, many commentators noted that Indonesia has much to teach the world about Islam and democracy (Pintak & Setiyono, 2011). Although the advantages and disadvantages of Re-pulika’s commercial model can be debated, its suc-cess nevertheless suggests that as a large, modern ‘Islamic newspaper’, Republika has much to offer. Despite the trade-offs in the transition from po-

litical to commercial, Republika continues to serve up a style of professional journalism that manages to speak for democracy and economic justice, while at the same time serving the interests of its Muslim readers.

Questions for discussion1. Are the values of journalism universal?2. Can there be such a thing as Islamic journal-

ism?3. Is it possible to conduct independent jour-

nalism under an authoritarian regime?4. What are the advantages and disadvantages

to a commercial model in journalism?

Notes1. Interview with Subroto, 8 June 2012. The

author is grateful to Jerry Macdonald for his critical reading of this study, and to both Jerry Macdonald and Elizabeth Bowen for their on-going support and encouragement.

2. Interview, Nasihin Masha, 4 June 2012. Field-work for this study was conducted between 1 May 2012 and 31 January 2013. All transla-tions from Indonesian are the author’s.

3. Interview with Irfan Junaedi, 25 January 2013.4. Interview with Nasihin Masha, 4 June 2010.5. Interview with Elba Damhuri, 4 June 2012.6. Interview with Syahrudin El Fikri, 15 October

2012.7. Islam kosmopolitan dalam berita [Cosmopoli-

tan Islam in news], Tempo, 9 January 1993.8. Interview with Daru Priyambodo, 2 January

2013.9. Ibid.10. Interview with Subroto, 8 June 2012.11. Interview with Indira Rezkisari, 8 June 2012.12. Exceptions to this rule are photographs in the

sports section.13. MUI tolak larangan khitan perempuan [MUI

refuses the ban on female circumcision], Republika, 22 January 2013.

14. Meeting with Republika editors Ferry Kisihan-di, E. H. Ismail and Yogi Ardi, 22 January 2013.

15. Interview with Elba Damhuri, 6 June 2012.16. During 2011, for example, Muhammadiyah

celebrated Eid on 30 August whereas NU decided on 31 August. Republika ultimately decided to go with what the government had decided (NU’s way) even though the general perception is that about 30% of paper’s readers are Muhammadiyah and only 10% NU.

33 frOM fasHION tO tHe Hereafter

17. Interview with Asep K. Nurzaman, 6 June 2012.18. Interview with Heri Ruslan, 28 December

2012.

ReferencesCook, M. (2003). Forbidding wrong in Islam.

Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.El Shirazy, H. (2004). Ayat-Ayat Cinta. Semarang:

Pesantren Karya Basmala. Jakarta: Republika.Hefner, R. (1993). Islam, class, and civil society:

ICMI and the struggle for the Indonesian mid-dle class. Indonesia, 56 (October), 1–35.

Hefner, R. (1997). Print Islam: Mass media and ideological rivalries among Indonesian Mus-lims. Indonesia, 64 (October), 77–103.

Heryanto, A. (2011). Upgraded piety and pleasure. In A. N. Weintraub (Ed.), Islam and popular culture in Indonesia and Malaysia (pp. 60–82). London and New York: Routledge.

Hill, D. (1994). Press in New Order Indonesia. Ja-karta: Pustaka Sinar Harapan.

Islam kosmopolitan dalam berita [Cosmopolitan Islam in news], 9 January 1993. Tempo, p. 33.

Khiabany, G. (2006). Religion and media in Iran: The imperative of the market and the straight-jacket of Islamism. Westminster Papers in Communication and Culture, 3(2), 3–21.

Mowlana, H. (2003). Foundation of communica-

tion in Islamic societies. In J. Mitchell & S. Marriage (Eds.), Mediating religion: Conversa-tions in media, religion, and culture (pp. 305–315). London, UK: T&T Clark.

MUI tolak larangan khitan perempuan [MUI re-fuses the ban on female circumcision], (22 January 2013). Republika, p. 12.

Pintak, L., & Setiyono, B. (2011). The mission of Indonesian journalism: Balancing democracy, development, and Islamic values. Internation-al Journal of Press/Politics, 16, 185–209.

Romano, A. (2003) Politics and the press in Indo-nesia: Understanding an evolving political cul-ture. London: RoutledgeCurzon.

Steele, J. (2005). Wars within: The story of Tempo, an independent magazine in Suharto’s Indone-sia. Jakarta, Indonesia: Equinox and ISEAS.

Steele, J. (2011). Justice and journalism: Islam and journalistic values in Indonesia and Malaysia. Journalism: Theory, Practice, and Criticism, 12, 533–549.

Steele, J. (forthcoming). Ramadan in the news-room: Malaysiakini, Tempo, and the state. In C. Formici (Ed.), Religious pluralism, state and society. London and New York: Routledge.

Utomo, A. (2010). Republika: Melintas zaman [Re-publika: Across the ages]. Jakarta, Indonesia: Harian Umum Republika.

34 researCH

mediaasia RESEARCH

Covering racial political issues in Malaysia: The effect of news frames on readers’ thoughtshaSRina MuStafa, wan noRShiRa wan MohD GhaZali & RaMli MohaMeD

Hasrina Mustafa is senior lecturer at the school of Communication, Universiti sains Malaysia. Wan Norshira Binti Wan Mohd Ghazali is an academic trainee at the department of Communication in International Islamic University Malaysia. ramli Mohamed is Professor at the school of Communication, Universiti sains Malaysia.MedIa asIa 40(1), pp. 34–46

This paper seeks to investigate the prevalence of four media frames as identified in an earlier

study of Malaysian newspapers with regard to a racial-political issue. This study likewise surveys

the audience frames to explore the extent to which media frames influence readers’ perception

on the issue. A comparative content analysis of news articles on Teoh Beng Hock’s death was

conducted on the New Straits Times, Sin Chew Daily, Utusan Malaysia and Malaysia Kini from

17 July 2009 to end of July 2010. Meanwhile, a survey on 400 readers of the four newspapers

was carried out. The result showed that all newspapers favoured the policy/action frame in

reporting the issue, followed by the conflict, human interest and attribution of responsibility/

blame frames. Meanwhile, the audience frames echoed that of the media frames but differed in

terms of sequence.

It is a known fact that racial-political issues dominate Malaysian media today. Many controversial issues relating to ethnicity and

politics enjoy extensive coverage and detailed analyses in the local media, especially in newspa-pers. Daily, Malaysians are bombarded with news on racial-political issues such as the political cri-sis in the Malaysian Chinese Association (MCA), an ethnic-based political party, internal conflicts within Pakatan Rakyat (the opposition parties) and the racial-religious conflict in the use of the term ‘Allah’.

Ethnicity and politics are the two main fac-tors that influence and shape the Malaysian media landscape today. According to Halimaton (2006), the media industries in Malaysia publish newspa-pers with different languages to serve the coun-try’s multiracial society. These ethnic-language newspapers are the means for each racial group to voice their aspirations, hopes and fears. Similarly, controversial political issues prevail in the Ma-laysian media reports even as most mainstream newspapers are owned and controlled by the gov-ernment or its allies. At the same time, many alter-

35 COVerING raCIal POlItICal IssUes IN MalaYsIa

native newspapers are known to be closely aligned with certain opposition parties.

Researches on news framing are often con-ducted to study various racial-political issues. Me-dia or news-framing analysis suggests a close cor-relation between news framing and public agenda. In other words, media are influential not just in determining what issues to think about but also how to think about those issues.

This study aims to investigate the relation-ships between news framing and audience fram-ing on the mysterious death of Teoh Beng Hock (TBH). He was a political secretary to the Selangor executive councillor of the opposition party. TBH was found dead on 16 July 2009, shortly after being interrogated by the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission (MACC) (Bernama, 2009). He was a key witness in a high-profile case investigated by MACC. Thus, his death became a contentious is-sue, as it involves political and racial matters and the coverage of this case was deemed a high prior-ity in print, broadcast and new media.

There are several reasons this issue is worth studying. First, from the public perspective, the case has become a controversial political-racial issue. Second, various newspapers portray and frame the same issue differently, based on agenda and target readership. And third, such research is yet to be conducted within a Malaysian con-text, particularly in examining the types of frame in media and the types of frame from audience perspective. Therefore, this study aims to exam-ine whether the frame set by the media serve as a frame of reference to readers. The research ques-tions of this study are as follows.

RQ1 How did the media report TBH’s death is-sue in terms of framing portrayal (number, size and types of photographs) in the New Straits Times, Sin Chew Daily, Utusan Ma-laysia and Malaysia Kini?

RQ2 How was TBH’s mysterious death framed and what was the dominant frame that emerged in the New Straits Times, Sin

Chew Daily, Utusan Malaysia and Malay-sia Kini?

RQ3 Did the audience frames from the survey study replicate the media frames observed in the content analyses?

Literature ReviewAn impressive literature contributes to an under-standing of the concept of framing or news frames in this study (e.g. Semetko & Valkenburg, 2000; Husselbee & Elliott, 2002; Scheufele, 1999; Weaver, 2007; Entman, 2007; McLeod & Detenber, 1999; Valkenburg, Semetko & Vreese, 1999; Pan & Ko-sicki, 1993). Entman (1993) projects a detailed ex-plication of how the media provides the audience with schemas for interpreting events. By this, he expounds that “to frame is to select some aspects of perceived reality and make them more salient in a communicating text, in such a way as to promote a particular problem definition, causal interpreta-tion, and moral evaluation, and/or treatment rec-ommendation for the item described” (p. 52). From the definition, there are four functions of framing: to define problems, to diagnose causes, to make moral judgments, and to suggest remedies.

In the process of selection and salience, newspa-pers attribute importance to certain parts of a story through framing. Scheufele (1999) identifies two types of frame: media frame and audience frame. The media frame involves the process of news pres-entation while the audience frame refers to the news comprehension activity. Adams and Schreibman (1978) define the media frames research into the production and content of news, while the research into audience frames is a type of effects research.

Media Frame: Framing PortrayalFortunato (2005) suggests two methods of framing in the media: exposure and portrayal. The framing exposure is significant to recognise the pattern of coverage employed by newspapers while the fram-ing portrayal (the main concepts of this study) focuses on the presentation of content in news-papers. It involves the decision-making process in

36 researCH

which facts or sides of an event are included and emphasised in a story. The portrayal is character-ised as the use of photographs, the types of news sources, the aspects of issue and the content being covered, by which Taylor and Sorenson (2002) de-scribe as elements of a story frame which involved language, sources and opinions quoted, and back-ground information.

The use of photographs in news stories is part of the framing portrayal because a photograph can suggest what issue is being reported and what frames are being employed. Yang (2008) suggests that photographs and captions are among the sev-eral framing tools to facilitate salience in an issue. The presence of a photograph with caption gives more importance to the news event. Jones and Wardle (2008) believe that images are secondary to the texts and can emphasise the innate meaning in the texts. Wardle (2007) has classified visual im-ages into three categories: personal (photographs of family, fiancée and friends of TBH), institution-al (photographs of the unfolding issue of police in-vestigation, court proceedings and post-mortem) and societal (photographs that reflect how the local communities are affected by TBH’s death). Christina Chin (2009) used the same classification in discovering the photograph display of a child murder case. Following Wardle’s categorisation, this research employed the same category in pho-tograph classification.

Framing has always been attached to agenda setting theory. Agenda setting propounds that the greater the media coverage given an issue, the more salient it will become to the public (Edy & Meirick, 2007; Price, Tewksbury & Powers, 1997; Entman, 2007). According to Entman (1993), sa-lience is to make “a piece of information more noticeable, meaningful, or memorable to the audi-ence” (p. 53). McCombs (2005) relates the concept of framing with media agenda and explains that media select and control the coverage of a given issue and set agenda for discussion. On the whole, agenda setting can be seen as another term for successfully performing the first function of fram-

ing, that is, defining problems worthy of public and government attention (Entman, 2007).

Audience FrameAccording to Pan and Kosicki (1993), the audience frame is a “schema of interpretations that enables individuals to perceive, organise, and make sense of incoming information” (p. 551). They further add that many researches on audience frames have tried to examine how and to what extent the specific media frames could influence read-ers’ awareness on certain subjects. Meanwhile, Scheufele (1999) posits that the audience frame as an attempt to reveal the extent to which certain audience frames are replications of media frames. Framing consists of several elements to allow for audience interpretation of certain issues. Pan et al. (1993) propose that the framing approach views news text as a system that is composed of ordered representative elements to endorse certain ideas and to provide a mechanism for audience text pro-cessing. It is claimed that the audience frame is thus a replication of the media frame.

Types of FramesJournalists can frame stories in multiple ways. A re-search conducted by Semetko et al. (2000) studied the occurrences of several types of media frames, i.e. attribution of responsibility/blame, human in-terest, conflict, morality and economic frames, while Gan, Teo and Detenber (2005) explored the conflict, human interest, issue/policy, regional perspective, horse race and constitutional crises frames. Another study measuring the effects of news frames conducted by Valkenburg et al. (1999) point out that there are at least four ways in which news is commonly framed: conflict, human inter-est, responsibility/blame and policy/action frames.

Neuman, Just and Crigler (cited by Valken-burg et al., 1999) project that the conflict frame en-tails conflict between individuals, parties, groups or institutions, which can also revolve around conflict in politics such as conflict among groups, among different views of the society, among dif-

37 COVerING raCIal POlItICal IssUes IN MalaYsIa

ferent economical and social interests, and among the different ways to solve the problems of soci-ety. The human-interest frame is another means to depict an event. This frame presents news sto-ries by focusing on individuals or emphasising on the emotional angle. According to Zillmann et al. (2004), some journalists highlight the misfortunes that befall others while others focus on the human impact, such as despair, agony and grief, to make their stories emotionally convincing.

The attribution of the responsibility/blame frame presents an issue by attributing responsibil-ity, crediting or blaming certain political institu-tions, government, groups or individuals (Valken-burg et al., 1999; Semetko et al., 2000; Gan et al., 2005; Cho & Gower, 2006). The policy/action frame is another technique used by journalists to frame their stories that weigh public concern on the solu-tions to certain issues. Shrestha (2009) recognises that this frame centres on policy measures taken by the government to handle certain issues or crises.

An Overview of the Malaysian MediaMedia organisations in Malaysia operate along certain rules and regulations and play a pivotal role in cultural, political and societal development, in which they shape attitudes and opinions, and influence political behaviour. The print media cir-culates newspapers in different languages to serve the multiracial society of Malaysia.

The New Straits Times (NST) is one of the leading newspapers in Malaysia. It serves as a ve-hicle for discussions and promotes thinking on current issues among the Malaysian ‘elite’ read-ers whose readership transcends racial groupings (Halimahton Shaari, Teck Hua & Raman, 2006). Nonetheless, NST is bound by certain regulations in editorial space. Lent (1984) explains that free-dom of the press in Malaysia has been tightened through ownership, management and control. “This was done by replacing long-established, family-operated newspapers with a new set of government dailies, by putting corporate control of newspaper groups in the hands of those close

to government and by instituting legislative and other controls over the distribution of foreign news” (Lent, 1984, p. 2). The ownership and con-trol of the newspaper influence the news direction in NST. In addition, Hoffman (cited in Khatirasen, 2006) asserts that the Malaysian press is different from foreign newspapers because they look for so-lutions for issues or problems in which NST pub-lishes ‘solution-oriented’ articles to help restore order in the country (Khatirasen, 2006).

Alternatively, Sin Chew Daily (SCD) is pub-lished in the Chinese language. Targeting the Chi-nese community, it is a market leader among Chi-nese newspapers and has the highest circulation. The Chinese media reported the issue in greater depth since TBH’s death was close to the heart of the Malaysian Chinese community. It is argued that a dominant characteristic of vernacular newspa-pers in Malaysia is the tendency to concentrate on events important to their respective communities (Halimahton Shaari et al., 2006; Halimahton Shaari, 2006). A study on the placement of religion-racial related issues in newspapers conducted by Hali-mahton Shaari and her colleagues (2006) find that stories about Moorthy, an Indian Muslim convert, was been covered extensively in both Utusan Me-layu (UM) and Malaysia Nanban, as the issue en-gaged Malay Muslim and Indian readers. The same study also reveals that Nyonya Tahir’s story ap-peared more frequently in SCD, as she had lived the lifestyle of Buddhism-practising Chinese, though she was born as a Muslim. In addition, Hock (1967) argues that the role of the press is to promote the political, social and intellectual development of the Chinese community internally, while fostering una-nimity among the Chinese externally to safeguard their interests. In this assertion, the Chinese print media become the means to help its own commu-nity and protect their rights.

Similarly, UM, which targets the Malay com-munity, serves its own purposes in news report-ing. As a Malay newspaper, UM is used to cultivate the spirit of nationalism among the people and op-erates as a channel to protect people from negative

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attitudes that can bring down Malays (Halimahton Shaari et al., 2006). Akin to SCD, UM is eager to concentrate on events perceived important to the Malay community. This newspaper also serves as a vehicle for the government to spread its vision to the society.

The last news medium sampled in this re-search is Malaysia Kini (MK). Well known as a controversial online newspaper, this medium fo-cuses more on the political and controversial is-sues. Issues related to government actions, espe-cially those with a political flavour, are highlighted and raised as the main topic. MK has always been the main target of the political actors for its open-ness and blatant criticism of those who fail in their responsibility to the society, such as bribery cases. With the aim of serving readers with transparent information, MK tries to continuously serve as a watchdog of the community on the actions of peo-ple in power. As an online newspaper, the young and educated are the main target audience.

MethodsThe research used the quantitative method via content analysis on media texts and survey re-search on respondents. There are two possible measures to analysing content frames in the news: inductive and deductive (Semetko et al., 2000). This study applied the deductive approach to identify the types of frames used in the coverage of TBH’s mysterious death. A deductive approach involves the process of predefining certain frames as content analytical variables to verify the extent to which these frames occur in the news. This ap-proach can be used on large samples and can de-tect the differing frames employed between the media and within the media (Semetko et al., 2000).

A purposive sampling was used. The popula-tion of this study was news articles from 17 July 2009 to 31 June 2010. The chosen time period is appropriate, as it was the day when TBH was found dead until mid-2010, as the case was still in court. The unit of analysis is the whole article. The re-searchers examined articles in NST and UM from

the front page to the nation section. Sections such as sport, education, economy and feature were not included. Similarly, the news selection was done from the front page up to the international section, since the complex section sometimes appears in between the international section in SCD. As for MK, the researcher subscribed to the online news-paper and gained full access to all TBH’s stories located in a specific link in the web page.

A pilot test was carried out to check the cod-ing schedule and inter-coder reliability as well as to avoid either the lack of categories or too many categories being offered. This research used Holsti’s inter-coder reliability statistic, which involved two independent different coders analysing four types of frames on 50 randomly selected sample articles from each newspaper. The inter-coder reliability of the pilot test was achieved in which each frame was reported as fulfilling the minimum acceptable alpha value, which should be greater than 0.7 (α > 0.7).

The study hired three coders to code a total of 1,017 articles (N = 1,017) from NST, SCD, UM and MK in order to avoid bias in coding. The coders were fluent in Chinese in order to code SCD. Sepa-rate coding sheets were used for each newspaper. Two categories of analysis have been developed: identifier categories, to categorise the media and pattern of coverage that coded items like coder, case, date and page (section); and value dimen-sions, to classify the coverage based on four types of frame in which the presence or absence of ana-lytical indicators/variables in each frame would be coded.

In the operationalisation of the value dimen-sions, at least five questions were created in each frame to help coders measure the extent to which certain frames appeared in an article. The domi-nance of each frame was determined based on Gan’s et al. (2005) claim that “when more of the criteria listed under each frame are met, the more facets of that particular frame are used and hence the more dominant the frame is in the article” (Gan et al., 2005, p. 451). The operationalisation of frames is shown in Table 1.

39 COVerING raCIal POlItICal IssUes IN MalaYsIa

Table 1The operationalisation of framing types

Types of frame Framing itemsConflict frame (a) Does the story reflect disagreement or split between parties, individuals,

groups, countries?(b) Does one party, individuals, group, country, reproach (accuse, criticise,

reprimand, condemn) another?(c) Does the story refer to winner or losers?(d) Does the story compare specific actions between parties, individuals, groups,

and countries?(e) Does the story reflect on the differing views towards the issue or policies

certain parties embrace? Human interest frame

(a) Does the story employ adjectives or personal descriptions that generate feelings of outrage, empathy-caring, sympathy, or compassion?

(b) Does the story emphasise how individuals and groups are affected by the issue/problem?

(c) Does the story go into the private and personal lives of the actors?(d) Does the story contain visual information that might generate feelings of

outrage, empathy-caring, sympathy, compassion?(e) Does the story use words that could stimulate emotional responses of outrage,

empathy-caring, sympathy, compassion?(f ) Record the types of feeling that have been observed in the news (choose only

ONE that appears most or first): Sad; Outrage/ anger; Panic/ alarm Sympathy/compassion; Disappoint/

dissatisfy/disagree; Happy; Concern/considerate/ thoughtful; OthersAttribution of responsibility /blame frame

(a) Does the story suggest that some level of government, parties, organisation or individuals has the ability to alleviate the problem?

(b) Does the story suggest that some level of government, parties, organisation, or individuals is responsible for the issue?

(c) Does the story suggest the issue requires urgent action?(d) Does the story suggest solutions to the issue?(e) Which party should be blamed for the issue that the story suggests? (Choose

ONE only) MACC; Government agencies (Judiciary system, Police, court proceeding);

Pakatan Rakyat; PKR; DAP; Lawyer presenting other parties/individuals (Presenting Teoh’s family, witnesses etc); Others (please specify)

Policy/Action frame

(a) Does the story describe on the policy measures and/or action will be taken or taken to control the situation/ to solve the issue?

(b) Does the story provide information in the implementation and undertaking on the issue?

(c) Does the story feature investigation taken to solve the issue?(d) Does the story mention the consequences of specific policy measures and/or

actions on the issue?(e) Are there reasons stated for undertaking certain policies and/or action on the

issue?

Neutral frame(a) The story describes on witnesses’ testimonies in neutral manner.(b) The news articles provide the summary information on Teoh Beng Hock

latest update.

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On the other hand, four enumerators were hired for the survey tasked with collecting data from the northern part of Peninsular Malaysia (Perlis, Kedah, Penang and Perak). Four hundred respondents were selected for this survey on the condition that they were readers of one of the newspapers in the study. The survey research de-liberately explored the presence of the four frames from the readers’ perspective in order to deter-mine whether there was any interaction between the media agenda and the public.

The survey was operationalised into two cat-egories: demographic information (gender, race, age, monthly income and educational level, types of newspaper read) and audience frame section. Taken up almost the same method of data collec-tion from Valkenburg’s et al. (1999) study, which used an open-ended type of questions, the audi-ence frame was analysed as follows.1) The questions below were asked to deter-

mine the types of frames developed by the respondents when it comes to Teoh Beng Hock’s issue:• Whatisthepictureyouremembermost

pertaining to the issue of Teoh Beng Hock?• Statethethreemostimportantissues

that first come to your mind pertaining to this topic.

• Thefollowingquestionswereaskedbased on each frame:

Human interest How do you feel about the issue? (Sad, angry,

dissatisfy, sympathy, considerate) Responsibility Who do you think should be blamed for the

issue? (MACC, Pakatan Rakyat, Malaysian government, PKR, DAP, lawyer presenting Teoh’s family)

Conflict State two parties that were involved in the

conflict/quarrel/disagreement/problem. (MACC, Pakatan Rakyat, Malaysian govern-ment, PKR, DAP, lawyer presenting Teoh’s family)

Policy/action Which party has consistently taken neces-

sary legal measure/action to solve the issue? (MACC, Pakatan Rakyat, Malaysian govern-ment, PKR, DAP, lawyer presenting Teoh’s family)

ResultsThe first research question aims to investigate the framing portrayal, which can be explained in terms of photograph display (size and types). In a sequence order, SCD displayed the most number of photographs, followed by MK, NST and UM (see Table 2).

Table 2Number of photographs displayed in the New Straits Times, Sin Chew Daily, Utusan Malaysia

and Malaysia Kini

Newspaper Photograph displayNew Straits Times 130Sin Chew Daily 592Utusan Malaysia 66

Malaysia Kini 242Total 1,030

Although the number of articles featured in NST is fewer than those in SCD, a total of 130 photographs accompanied 231 articles, which is almost every article reported in NST. Similarly, MK displayed a total of 242 photographs from 294 articles, followed by UM, which displayed the smallest number with only 66 photographs for the 170 articles. In the meantime, the size of the big-gest photograph measured in the four newspapers is shown in Table 3.

Another important finding is the use of a small photograph or icon to signify TBH’s stories in all newspapers. The icon served as a signal to readers and was accompanied by a general sum-mary of the issue in NST, SCD and UM.

Following Wardle (2007), this study has clas-sified the photographs into personal, societal and institutional types. The category of ‘Others’ was created to code photographs that did not suit the

41 COVerING raCIal POlItICal IssUes IN MalaYsIa

criteria of the three categories, such as a pho-tograph of the window of Plaza Massalam, the building where TBH was found dead. Although the numbers of photographs in all newspapers greatly differed, there was a similarity in terms of the types of photograph employed. Table 4 sum-marises the types of photographs that appeared in the four newspapers.

The most important part of this study, as stated in the second research question, is to in-vestigate how TBH’s death was framed in the four newspapers. Content analysis was conducted on 1,017 articles to explore the prominence of the four frames: human interest, policy/action, re-

sponsibility/blame and conflict.A simple descriptive statistic test was run

to compare the dominance of each frame used in each newspaper. It was revealed that different number of cases did not justify the distinction in terms of the trend of news framing. From the comparison made in Table 5, all four media were overwhelmed by the policy/action frame, followed by the conflict, human interest and responsibility/blame frames.

The third research question explores the likelihood that the audience frames replicate the media frames observed from the content analy-sis. The first part of the survey shows the demo-

Table 3Size of photographs for the New Straits Times, Sin Chew Daily, Utusan Malaysia and Malaysia Kini

Photograph size New Straits Times Sin Chew Daily Utusan Malaysia Malaysia KiniBiggest 240.25 sq cm 650.1 sq cm 274.4 sq cm 205.7 sq cmSmallest 4.4 sq cm 3.74 sq cm 8.68 sq cm 2.6 sq cm**Mean 30.33 sq cm 74.98 sq cm 32.44 sq cm 48.01 sq cm**Standard deviation

53.264 sq cm 69.217 sq cm 61.666 sq cm 28.297 sq cm

Table 4Types of photographs in the New Straits Times, Sin Chew Daily, Utusan Malaysia and Malaysia Kini

Types of photographs

New Straits TimesPercentage (%)

Sin Chew DailyPercentage (%)

Utusan MalaysiaPercentage (%)

Malaysia KiniPercentage (%)

Personal 6.9 16.5 8.8 14.1Societal 2.6 4.7 2.4 8.8Institutional 88.7 74.6 85.3 57.8Others 1.8 4.2 3.5 19.3Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

Table 5Types of frames in the New Straits Times, Sin Chew Daily, Utusan Malaysia and Malaysia Kini

Frame New Straits Times

Sin Chew Daily Utusan Malaysia

Malaysia Kini

Frequency Frequency Frequency FrequencyHuman interest 29 75 36 28Policy/action 72 317 62 70Responsibility/blame 16 107 23 10Conflict 39 151 30 52Total 156 650 151 160

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graphic information of the respondents. The cross tabulation between the newspapers and the racial category of respondents is presented in Table 6.

Meanwhile, Table 7 displays the cross tabulation between the newspapers and the respondents’ age.

The second part of survey researched the au-dience frame, which was started with the result of the types of photograph remembered most by

respondents. Following the same category in the content analysis, Table 8 listed the frequency of the types of photograph according to respondents.

Using an open-ended question, which allowed respondents to list their answers according to their knowledge and interpretation, Table 9 shows the result of the frame prominent in all newspapers according to respondents.

Table 6Cross tabulation between newspapers and racial category

Newspaper Malay Chinese Indian TotalNew Straits Times 37 42 22 101 (25.3%)Sin Chew Daily 0 121 0 121 (30.3%)Utusan Malaysia 115 1 0 116 (29.0%)Malaysia Kini 34 17 11 62 (15.5%)Total 186 (46.5%) 181 (45.3%) 33 (8.3%) 400 (100.00%)

Table 7Cross tabulation between newspapers and age category

Newspaper Age category Total20–29 30–39 40–49 50–59 60 and above

New Straits Times 51 32 11 7 0 101Sin Chew Daily 57 34 20 10 0 121Utusan Malaysia 53 39 17 6 1 116Malaysia Kini 37 19 6 0 0 62Total 198 124 54 23 1 400

Table 8Frequency of photograph types remembered by the respondents

Types of photograph Frequency Percentage (%)Personal 299 74.8Societal 25 6.2Institutional 70 17.5Others 6 1.5Total 400 100.0

Table 9Frame prominent in newspapers according to the respondents

Newspaper Human interest Public policy Responsibility Conflict Total

New Straits Times 19 39 27 16 101Sin Chew Daily 28 61 24 8 121Utusan Malaysia 16 55 15 30 116Malaysia Kini 8 36 10 8 62Total prominent frame 71 191 76 62 400

43 COVerING raCIal POlItICal IssUes IN MalaYsIa

DiscussionIn order to understand the framing portrayal of this issue, the numbers, sizes and types of photo-graphs were analysed in RQ1. The content analyses revealed that the institutional image was the most preferred type of photograph in the four newspa-pers, since more stories pertaining to court pro-ceedings, police investigation and the post-mortem were published. While personal and societal pho-tographs were not highly used due to the fact that there were fewer stories reported on these aspects. The use of photographs was important to suggest the frame of a story. These findings affirm the re-search conducted by Mustoffa (1992), that photo-graphs are important features to depict current is-sues of a case. Since the policy/action was the most prominent frame in all four newspapers, it is unde-niable that the institutional type of photograph was employed the most. It can be noted that the per-sonal photograph was less utilised, since it is closely related to the human-interest frame, which was not a prominent frame in this case.

However, the survey showed that despite its rare use, the personal photograph was most remembered by readers, followed by the institu-tional and the societal photograph. The societal photograph is sometimes appealing because it describes how people react to the issue. Although the news reports focused heavily on the court pro-ceedings, TBH’s family and fiancée grievances in the newspapers helped readers to recall the issue. The accompanying personal photographs, such as the sobbing parents and fiancée of TBH, had greater impact on readers. There were not many photographs of this type shown in the newspa-pers but the impact they had on the readers was pronounced. This is in line with Heath’s (1968) assertion that a good photograph of a dramatic occurrence permits readers to establish their own perspective of it and allow for their recall. Bear-ing the fact that SCD’s readers were the highest respondents, it is indisputable that the personal photograph was remembered most since the case was close to the hearts of the Chinese readers.

The second research question, which asked about the dominant frames in each of the four newspapers through content analysis, found that the policy/action frame was used extensively in all four newspapers, followed by the conflict, human-interest and responsibility/blame frames in NST and MK; the conflict, responsibility/blame and human-interest frames in SCD; and the human-interest, conflict and responsibility frames in UM.

The use of frames with certain frequency in this issue is not a surprising finding in an environ-mental where the media is highly regulated. It has been explicated above that through ownership and control, the newspaper is bound to certain rules and regulations in editorial space. Lent (1984) ex-plains that freedom of the press in Malaysia has been tightened through ownership, management and control. Therefore, reporters often take the safest route and do not want to get into unneces-sary trouble with the authorities in their reporting. Hence the policy/action frame is the most conven-ient way of reporting TBH’s issue.

The policy/action frame refers to policy measures taken and the outcome of action taken by the government or the responsible party in dealing with the issue. The analysis found that the frame focussing on TBH’s death inquest (specifi-cally police investigations and court proceedings), the second post-mortem and the hiring of inter-national pathologists—which is the policy/action frame—is the dominant frame in all newspapers. Meanwhile, the conflict frame underlines the dis-cord between the parties, groups, individuals and institutions. This frame was frequently used by court-hearing reports, such as the reporting of discrepancies in opinion in court and disagree-ments of several parties involved in this issue.

In contrast, the human-interest frame report-ed the emotional responses of TBH’s family, fian-cée and friends. The frame includes the personali-sation, dramatisation and emotionalisation of the news stories. In most cases, editors and journalists produce news story to capture and retain audience attention based on market needs. Although it can

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be said that the media prefer to select stories that are sensational and human-interest-based, which could excite the interest and curiosity of the pub-lic in the events of death and tragic social conse-quences (Husselbee & Elliott, 2002), it was differ-ent in this case. Since TBH’s death is a politically-related and high-profile case, the policy/action and conflict frames were used more frequently to suit the nature of the case, while human-interest value was less concentrated by all newspapers ex-cept for UM.

In general, the least employed frame in all the newspapers, except for SCD, was the responsi-bility/blame frame. This frame presents an issue by attributing responsibility and blaming certain political institutions, government, groups or indi-viduals on the dire occurrences that caught pub-lic attention, which deserved immediate action. Based on the assertion made by Hoffman (cited in Khatirasen, 2006), that the Malaysian press is dif-ferent from foreign newspapers because they look for solutions for any issues or problems, there is no doubt that the attribution of responsibility/blame frame was least used.

This study’s third aim was to discover wheth-er certain news frames had different effects on readers’ thought about THB’s issue and to find out whether the audience frames echo the media frames. From the survey results, it was found that 47.75 percent (191 out of 400) of the respond-ents believed the policy/action frame employed extensively by all newspapers. The survey, police investigations, court proceedings and the hiring of international pathologists were the answers most frequently given by the respondents. The court-related stories were quite technical in nature be-cause they involved proceedings and rules, which were simplified for readers and hence could be easily remembered by readers.

The other three frames were moderately scat-tered in the newspapers, according to the readers. The responsibility, human-interest and conflict frames scored 19 percent, 17.75 percent and 15.5 percent, respectively. The three frames did not

have any prominent or obvious difference from each other. However, the sequence of the frame used in all four newspapers differed in the survey when compared to the content analysis. Generally, we can say that there was no major difference in terms of percentage but the difference can be seen in the sequence of frames found in the survey vis-à-vis the content analysis.

In a nutshell, the survey discovered that re-spondents’ perceptions towards the issue were based on framing categories. According to the respondents, for the policy/action frame, the par-ties that have taken the necessary legal measures towards the issue were: the lawyer represent-ing TBH’s family (43.5%), the Malaysian govern-ment (25.2%), Pakatan Rakyat (10.8%) and others (20.5%). Meanwhile, 48.2 percent of the respond-ents believe that MACC should be blamed/held responsible for the issue, followed by the Malay-sian government (14.8%), Pakatan Rakyat (10.5%) and others (26.5%). For human-interest frame, sympathy (27.5%), dissatisfaction (25.8%), sad-ness (18.2%) and others (28.5%) were the common feelings expressed by the respondents towards the issue. Lastly, the respondents were in the opinion that the parties involved in the conflict pertaining to TBH’s death were: the conflict between MACC and Teoh Beng Hock himself (the highest, at 16.5%), followed by the conflict between the Ma-laysian government and Pakatan Rakyat (15.5%), the conflict between MACC and Pakatan Rakyat (12.0%), and other conflicts (56.0%).

ConclusionIt is the main aim of this research to identify dif-ferences in the news frames used among the four different media outlets. On the whole, the most common frames are the policy/action, conflict, human-interest and attribution of responsibility/blame frames. The research revealed that the domi-nant frames are very different from previous studies in the literature. This study used more of the policy/action frame in the coverage of TBH’s death rather than the attribution of responsibility/blame and hu-

45 COVerING raCIal POlItICal IssUes IN MalaYsIa

man-interest frames, which were found prominent in many previous studies since they are open to voice out many issues (e.g. Valkenburg et al., 1999; Semetko et al., 2000; Gan et al., 2005; and Zillmann et al, 2004). On the basis of preserving Malaysian unity and harmony, fewer attribution of responsi-bility/blame frames were used in news reporting. The fact that the Malaysian media are somehow controlled by certain parties (Lent, 1984), which have influence over their news direction, is partly accurate based on the result of this study.

The death of TBH was in the limelight of the Malaysian media for almost three years. It is worth to explicate that sensational legal cases have long captured the attention of the public and the media, especially in America (Fox, Van Sickel & Steiger, 2007). This is because “criminal trials and legal investigations make for fascinating news stories” (Fox et al., 2007, p. 61). Similarly, TBH’s court proceedings were covered extensively in all news-papers. Most court stories favoured controversial matters discussed during the court proceedings and sometimes focused on the family of TBH to personalise the issue. The claim made by Fox et al. above and that gender, race and class issues could help legal or criminal case arrive at the ‘national media stage’ are indeed supported through the major policy/action and conflict frames use in re-porting TBH’s case.

Following the same purpose of study by Valk-enburg et al. (1999) in discovering the effects of news frames on readers’ thoughts and recall, this study tried to determine the readers’ thoughts on TBH’s issue based on their exposure to four newspapers. It was learned that the ways TBH’s stories were framed had significant effects on readers’ thoughts and audience frames. Through the responses from the survey, the policy/action and conflict were the most remembered types of frames. Hence, the claim made by Price and Tewksbury (1997, cited in Rhee, 1997), that the impact of news framing importance is in the audi-ence’s interpretation, evaluation and judgement is demonstrated from the replication of media frame

in this study. Through the identification of certain attributes and the process of framing, the media bring the issue to public awareness and shape pub-lic perception on TBH’s case. In short, the media agenda is the basis for initiating issues of impor-tance, besides framing.

This study is limited in certain ways. Perhaps the most critical limitation is the preconception of the frames, in which they are known beforehand and that they suit the topic under investigation. This approach requires a clear idea on the po-tential frames that are likely to be encountered. Hence, this study is limited to frames that were already established. Besides, although the fram-ing indicators have been adapted from previous studies, throughout the coding process, coders might have interpreted the same indictors differ-ently based on their interpretation. To avoid the problem, the coders underwent extensive training before the actual coding process took place. In ad-dition, future research is needed to verify and im-prove the measures used in this study. This can be done by developing indicators that help to identify possible frames in news stories more accurately.

In view of the above discussion, this research sheds light to framing analysis in the context of the Malaysian situation in both the media frame and the audience frame. Moreover, the study has un-earthed the approaches of the Malaysian media in framing racial-political issues in order to capture audience interests while setting a media agenda.

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mediaasia RESEARCH

Online SNS usage patterns of undergraduate students in private universities of Dhaka, BangladeshShaMS Bin QuaDeR

shams Bin Quader is senior lecturer in department of Media studies and Journalism, University of liberal arts, Bangladesh (UlaB).MedIa asIa 40(1), pp. 47–59

The Internet is not only an ocean of in-formation but it has also given new ways of communication with everyone

(Vitak, 2008). One such communication trend fa-cilitated by the Internet that is gaining immense popularity worldwide is online social network-ing sites (SNS) (Joinson, 2008). These sites allow people to sign up free of charge and create on-line profiles, and provide a platform for people to interact with one another in a virtual sphere (Urista et al., 2008). These sites have become very trendy as more and more people are leaning to-wards SNS to share their everyday happenings with friends online, rather than through face-to-face encounters. SNS are continually improving themselves and making new facilities available in order to attract more users to their network. Also, these sites are mostly popular with the young generation, especially with the student popula-

In a country like Bangladesh, Internet accessibility and usage capacity is still limited only to

people of major cities, where the number of young urban adults using online social network

sites (SNS) is on the rise. This study tried to explore the reasons private university undergraduate

students of Dhaka city are using online SNS, what they do on these sites and whether spending

a lot of time on SNS hamper their studies. The findings showed that these students use SNS

primarily to connect and keep in touch with their friends and family, and their studies are

usually not hampered by the time they spend on SNS.

tion (Social Networking, 2008). The youth of the society now consider having a presence on SNS as a must-have status symbol and have adopted online social networking as a part of their life-style. As more and more students flock to these social network sites, it becomes important to find out why they are using these sites. What are they using these sites for? How is it affecting them or which aspects of their lives are being affected?

In a country like Bangladesh, Internet accessi-bility and usage capacity is still limited to the resi-dents of major cities and some suburbs (Chowd-hury et al.). The habit of spending many hours online is mostly one of young urban adults, among whom online social networking is on the rise (Rahman, 2011). Not enough research has been conducted to explore the usage patterns of online SNS among Bangladeshi students. Therefore, this research will be an exploratory study on SNS us-

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age of Bangladeshi undergraduate students and how this global phenomenon is affecting them.

Focus and Scope of ResearchAs already mentioned, the motivation for conduct-ing such a research was to get a better and deeper understanding of the usage of online social net-working sites by private university undergraduate students of Dhaka. The capital city of Dhaka was chosen primarily because it has the highest level of Internet coverage (Qubee Wimax Bangladesh, 2012) and accessibility in the country, and because it has the highest number of private universities (Ashraf et al., 2009, p. 18).

This research focused on Bangladeshi under-graduate students of Dhaka for the following reasons:• Thestudentsarematuredenoughtouseon-

line SNS.• Theycomprisethemajorityofusersofonline

SNS compared to other age groups.• Theyoutharethefutureleadersofthecoun-

try and therefore it is important to know their perspectives on emerging forms and trends of new media (SNS being one of the most popular trends in the current scenario).

• Understandingtheusagepatternsofthestudents of Dhaka may serve as a good refer-ence towards understanding similar patterns of students situated in other major cities of Bangladesh.This research tried to find out answers to the

following questions:• WhatareBangladeshiundergraduatestu-

dents using online SNS for?• WhatdotheydoonSNS?• HowareSNSaffectingthem?• Howdotheymaintaintheirstudiesalongside

their SNS use?The study assumes that undergraduate stu-

dents in Dhaka spend a vast amount of time on online social networking sites. It also assumes that SNS is influencing their daily lives. Thus, the study aims to use online SNS usage patterns as a step-ping stone towards measuring and comprehend-

ing wider online media literacy and communica-tion contexts among Bangladeshi youth.

Literature ReviewWhat is a social networking site (SNS)?To put it simply, SNS are websites based on the WEB 2.0 platform (Social Networking, 2008), a modern interactive web platform where anyone can join in for free and can set up an online pro-file page by using their basic contact details and preferences ranging from favourite movies, stars, books, music, quotes, activity and hobbies (Boyd & Ellison, 2007). These options vary from site to site, with some sites asking users to fill in every profile field in detail while others require only ba-sic contact information (Social Networking, 2008).

After setting up online profiles, a user can interact with other users signed on that SNS net-work and build online, virtual contacts that can be displayed as a list of friends. These friends can be people from real life or people found online with whom no real life connection is shared whatsoever (Boyd & Ellison, 2007). However, the word ‘friend’ carries a different meaning in the online world and is not similar in concept to a real-life friend (Social Networking, 2008). In online contexts, friends are only those who are invited by you or those whose invitation you have accepted for online social net-working. As users find online friends on SNS, they can browse through more friends from the friends list of people with whom they have already been connected. Hence this friend browsing cycle con-tinues and more and more people become friends on SNS, leading to the user’s own online network of friends.

Development of SNSThe ideas that generated the inception of SNS are not new. From the beginning of the Internet’s journey, when it was developed for the US Defense Department (Ruthfield, 1995), the main purpose of the Internet was to share documents with one another on the same network through remote ac-cess. From the start of the Internet, tools like e-

49 ONlINe sNs UsaGe PatterNs Of UNderGradUate stUdeNts IN PrIVate UNIVersItIes Of dHaKa, BaNGladesH

mail, online chat, web forums and message boards existed to facilitate online communication (Social Networking, 2008). The SNS that we experience today are also based on the same idea of online sharing and incorporate all those online commu-nication tools as well as other interactive features, as an upgrade from traditional online communica-tion.

The first-ever recognised SNS was Friendster. Launched in 2002, it could not maintain its strong hold in the online world and it fell in 2004 (Boyd & Ellison, 2007). In the wake of Friendster, other new SNS started evolving. LinkedIn, MySpace and Hi5 started in 2003; Flickr and Facebook (Harvard only) started in 2004 while Bebo started in 2005 (Social Networking, 2008).

With new SNS entering the online medias-cape, their focus is by no means the same. Each SNS is distinct on its own merits. Besides gen-eral SNS like Facebook, Myspace, Friendster and Hi5, other specialised SNS have also been popular (Boyd & Ellison, 2007). Some examples are as fol-lows:• LinkedIn:foronlineemployer-employee

communication• Youtube:foronlinevideosharing• Flickr:foronlinephotographsharing• Scribd:foronlinedocumentssharing• Twitter:foronlinestatusandupdatessharing

(Mischaud, 2007)Furthermore, SNS based on specific interests

are coming into being. The Copia is an SNS where book lovers can socialise with each other. SNS based on specific regions are also growing fast, for example, Bharat Student is an Indian site where all Indian students can interact and socialise.

Why Do People use SNS?The usage of SNS can be explained through the media theory known as The Uses and Gratifica-tions Theory. This theory can be seen as a psycho-logical communication perspective that deals with the fact that people use the media to fulfil their needs and wants. According to this theory, media

use depends on some factors, which include the psychological need for communication, social in-teraction, mass media consumption, communica-tion behaviour and the consequences of such be-haviour (Rubin, 1994, p. 419). Katz, Blumler and Gurevitch (1974) said that the uses and gratifica-tions perspective depends on the social and psy-chological source of human needs, which develop an expectation from the mass media leading to various degrees of media exposure and resulting in needs gratification and other consequences. Therefore, people use SNS because it helps them satisfy their needs. They turn to online SNS to seek emotional support and to quench their thirst for information (Joinson, 2008).

People also search for others in SNS to be a part of specific social groups. Through online so-cial networking, people get connected via SNS and fulfil their need for communication and social in-teraction (Urista et al., 2008). However, different people use SNS for different purposes, depending on their specific preferences, cultural background, social environment and behaviour traits (Urista et al., 2008).

Overview of SNSThe following is a quick look at the key aspects of online social networking sites.

FriendshipsOnline social network sites have given new mean-ings to ‘online friends‘ or ‘online friendships’. SNS allow people to connect with their peers in new, innovative ways. People connect with others based on some similar traits, likes and affiliations, such as school, religion or hobby. People use these ways to extend their network and keep in touch with their offline contacts as well as new online friends (Ito et al., 2008).

Self-directed learningIn social networking sites where social activity is mainly dependent on similar interests, people de-velop new ways of expressing themselves or learn

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more about something that they are interested in. People get to know about what needs to be done and how it needs to be done. People also share their ideas and work to get feedback from others (Ito et al., 2008). People learn about new innova-tions in an interactive way, where there is more freedom of expression than in any formal learn-ing environment. SNS provides the opportunity to develop necessary social and technological skills that are required in this modern age. People can now access important information and the trendy online culture to learn about things that were un-known to them before, as well as new values and symbols for communication developed for learn-ing in an online environment that gives rise to new cultural cues (Ito et al., 2008). The whole SNS plat-form provides a new way of educating oneself for the modern world.

Mobilising actionSince SNS allow people to find other people of similar interests, background and beliefs, it is pos-sible to come under one social umbrella. In times of need, groups of like-minded people can take collective action online by cooperating with each other to push forward a certain agenda for a cer-tain cause. SNS platforms make it easy to let eve-ryone know of the programme and detail the plans of how action can be carried out (Ellison, Lampe & Steinfield, 2009). People are also using SNS plat-forms to arrange online flash mobs and online sig-nature campaign to protest against a specific issue. All these activities can be done in minimum time with minimal effort, and yield maximum coverage.

Online Social Networking in BangladeshBangladesh is also feeling the heat of online SNS. The country has seen a sharp rise in Internet users in recent years due to the availability of cheaper mobile Internet technology and the introduction of Wi-max connectivity in Dhaka (Tauhid, 2008). Internet accessibility is not limited to personal computers (PCs) anymore. Internet on cell phones

have become increasingly popular and accessible over the past few years (Davies, 2010). Bangladesh Telecommunications Regulatory Commission (BTRC) statistics show that the country currently has around 70,000,000 mobile phone subscribers (Rahman, 2011). Bangladesh now has 800,000 In-ternet users and the BRTC expects it to cross the one-million mark in the near future.

But the Internet usage of most Bangladeshis has been limited to chatting, playing online games, social networking, reading news reports, search-ing for jobs and keeping updates of latest sports happenings on numerous sites over the World Wide Web, as opposed to other uses of the Inter-net (Rahman, 2011). Most Bangladeshis also use low cost handsets yjay do not allow them to ex-plore the full potential of the Internet with their mobile Internet subscription (Rahman, 2011). De-spite all these factors, the number of Bangladeshi users using SNS has shot up and continues to grow rapidly. More than one million Bangladeshis were already on Facebook as of March 2011, with the majority being youngsters (Internet World Stats). Twitter is still not that popular with Bangladeshi Internet users but community blogs and forums like Somewhereinblog, Tech Tunes and Projonmo are highly popular among Bangladeshi netizens and new people are coming to these sites, making them a commonplace for Bangladeshi Internet us-ers (Uddin, 2010).

Research Questions and HypothesesBased on the discussions on the Literature Review section and the overall focus of this study, two re-search questions were formulated.

RQ1 What is the purpose of using online SNS among private university undergraduate students of Dhaka?

RQ2 What for them are the effects of SNS usage on their academic standing?

The justification for formulating RQ1 is that

51 ONlINe sNs UsaGe PatterNs Of UNderGradUate stUdeNts IN PrIVate UNIVersItIes Of dHaKa, BaNGladesH

we assumed that the youth of Dhaka, especially university students, spent a lot a time in online so-cial networking. This was one of the motivations for choosing this area of study. In order to find out more about this matter, it was necessary to find, with empirical evidence, what kind of activities they were involved with while using online SNS. Be it connecting with friends, uploading photo-graph or videos, playing games or meeting new people, this research question would help us focus and find out more details about SNS activity and usage patterns of private university undergraduate students of Dhaka.

Since we assumed that university students logged onto SNS for vast periods of time, it was only natural to contemplate whether it would have a negative impact on their studies and, more specifically, their grades. By academic status, we mean the grades achieved by the students in any given semester. A high academic status signifies good grades and a low status means bad grades. A positive impact on their academic status means that their grades were improving and a negative impact means that their grades were falling. More accurate results could be found if we had access to their official results or academic transcript for the semester during which this study was un-dertaken. Since this access was not granted, this study relied on the truthfulness of the students about their academic statuses. If the students were interacting more with their friends online, rather than studying and researching, then their grades would understandably be affected. RQ2 had been formulated to find out whether the time and frequency of SNS usage by private university undergraduate students of Dhaka affected their academic statuses.

Keeping in line with the two research ques-tions outlined above, the study worked with two hypotheses.

H1 The private university undergraduate stu-dents of Dhaka mainly use online SNS for connecting with their friends and family.

H2 The private university undergraduate stu-dents of Dhaka agree that the frequency and time spent on online SNS negatively affected their academic statuses.

MethodologyThis research adopted a quantitative approach us-ing an anonymous survey method via a structured questionnaire with mostly close-ended questions. Belli (2008) states, “Quantitative research is em-pirical, using numeric and quantifiable data. Con-clusions are based on experimentation and on objective and systematic observations.” According to Hopkins, a quantitative research is concerned about quantifying relationships between variables and to determine the relationship between an in-dependent variable (IV) and another dependent variable (DV) in a population (2008).

This research gives insights into the online SNS usage habits of private university undergrad-uate students of Dhaka, using statistical figures. Considering RQ1, the private university under-graduate students of Dhaka is the independent variable (IV1) and their activity on online SNS is the dependent variable (DV1). In the case of RQ2, the time and frequency of SNS use by private uni-versity undergraduate students of Dhaka is the independent variable (IV2) and their academic status is the dependent variable (DV2). According to Hypothesis 1, the number of private university undergraduate students of Dhaka (IV1) would be directly proportional to their activity level of con-necting with friends (DV1). In Hypothesis 2, the time and frequency of SNS usage by the private university undergraduate students of Dhaka (IV2) would be inversely proportional to their academic statuses (DV2).

A sample size of 78 undergraduate students was chosen using a random sampling method. Among them, there were 11 female and 19 male students from Independent University, Bangla-desh (IUB), and 21 female and 27 male students from North South University (NSU). These two universities are the oldest established private uni-

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versities in Bangladesh and also the largest when it comes to student population (Sheikh, 2011). The number of students in IUB is approximately 3,000 (Independent University, Bangladesh, var-sityadmission.com, 2010) while and in NSU it is 12,000 (North South University, varsityadmission.com, 2010). Their combined total population of students is approximately 15,000. According to Bartlett et al. (2001), the appropriate sample size of a quantitative study where the total population is 10,000 or above should be about 83. In that case, our sample size being 78 was lower than the ideal size, so our margin of error was greater. This is in-cluded in the Limitations section of this paper.

Findings and AnalysisThe survey resulted in some interesting statistics. Table 1 shows that all respondents surveyed (both male and female) are Internet savvy. This indicates that the private university undergraduate students of Dhaka are well acquainted with Internet tech-nology and computer mediated communication. This finding reflects positively with our earlier as-sumption that Internet usage is in the rise among the youth of Dhaka.

Table 1Students using the Internet

Using the Internet Yes NoMale 46 0Female 32 0Total 78 0 Percentage 100%

In like manner, it is evident from Table 2 that the majority of these undergraduate students who use the Internet are in the age group of 19–21 years, 69.23% of the sample population. The age group of 22–24 years comes in second position, with 23.08%.

Meanwhile, Table 3 shows us that 83.33% of the sample population use the Internet every day. Females (84.38%) just edge over males (82.61%) when it comes to daily usage of the Internet. Very

few members of the sample use the Internet 3–4 times a week (15.39%) and still fewer, once a week. No one from the survey used the Internet only once a month. These results provide some empiri-cal evidence that the majority of the private uni-versity undergraduate students of Dhaka use the Internet daily.

The results from Table 4 shows that parents nowadays are more liberal about their children’s Internet usage. They want their children to use modern technology such as the Internet to keep them updated. Besides increased availability and low cost, the positive outlook of parents may be one of the reasons behind the rapid growth of In-ternet users, especially in the major cities of Bang-ladesh.

When asked if the respondents used SNS, 77 out of 78 answered ‘Yes’. Table 5 shows that SNS are highly popular with private university under-graduate students of Dhaka. When asked which social networks sites they use, the students un-doubtedly showed favouritism towards Facebook. A huge 88.46% of the sample log in to Facebook, which indicates that this social network site is not only the most popular SNS among undergraduate private university students of Dhaka, it may just be the most popular SNS in Bangladesh. Table 6 shows that more males use Facebook than females but it also shows that three female students use Facebook and Twitter, and three female students use Facebook, Twitter and MySpace. This indi-cates that SNS other than Facebook are not very popular among the youth of Dhaka yet, although it is the female students who are probably more wide-ranging when it comes to using SNS.

Tables 7 and 8 show that respondents spend a considerable amount of time on SNS, with the majority of them (71.80%) logging on to SNS every day and spending something between one and two hours (41.03%). Compared to the daily usage, very few students log in to SNS three to four times a week (19.23%) and once a week (8.98%). Not only that, more females (78.13%) than males (67.39%) use SNS daily. Whether it is less than an hour, one

53 ONlINe sNs UsaGe PatterNs Of UNderGradUate stUdeNts IN PrIVate UNIVersItIes Of dHaKa, BaNGladesH

Table 2Age groups of the students

Age group 16–18 19–21 22–24 Above 24Male 1 29 13 3Female 2 25 5 0Total 3 54 18 3Percentage 3.85% 69.23% 23.08% 3.85%

Table 3Frequency of Internet use by the students

Frequency of Internet use

Daily 3–4 times a week Once a week Once a month

Male 38 7 1 0Female 27 5 0 0Total 65 12 1 0Percentage 83.33% 15.39% 1.28% 0%

(Males: 82.61% Females: 84.38%)

(Males: 15.22% Females: 15.63%)

(Males: 2.17% Females: 0%)

(Males: 0% Females: 0%)

Table 4Parent’s view on the student’s Internet use

Parents’ view on Internet use

Positive Negative

Male 43 4Female 27 4Total 70 8Percentage 89.74% 10.26 %

Table 5Do the students use Online SNS?

Do you use SNS? Yes NoTotal 77 1Percentage 98.72% 1.28%

Table 6The students’ choice of SNS

SNS site Facebook Twitter Myspace Others Facebook & Twitter

Facebook, Twitter & MySpace

Male 45 0 0 0 0 0Female 24 2 0 0 3 3Total 69 2 0 0 3 3Percentage 88.46% 2.56% 0% 0% 3.85% 3.85%

(Males: 97.83% Females: 75%)

(Males: 0% Females: 2.56%)

(Males: 0% Females: 0%)

(Males: 0% Females: 2.56%)

(Males: 0% Females: 3.85%)

(Males: 0% Females: 3.85%)

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Table 7Frequency of using SNS

Frequency of using SNS

Daily 3–4 times a week One a week

Male 31 10 4Female 25 5 3Total 56 15 7Percentage 71.80% 19.23% 8.98%

(Males: 67.39% Females: 78.13%)

(Males: 21.74% Females: 15.63%)

(Males: 8.70% Females: 9.38%)

Table 8Time spent daily on SNS by the students

Time spent on SNS Less than 1 hr 1–2 hr 3–5 hr More than 5 hrMale 15 18 4 6Female 8 14 9 1Total 23 32 13 7Percentage 29.49% 41.03% 16.67% 8.97%

(Males: 32.61% Females: 25%)

(Males: 39.13% Females: 43.75%)

(Males: 8.70% Females: 28.13%)

(Males: 13.04% Females: 3.13%)

Table 9The student’s activities on SNS

SNS activity Connect with friends and family

Play games Meet new people

Online dating

Write blogs Upload photographs and videos

Male 27 1 8 2 2 3Female 24 10 3 0 1 9Total 51 11 11 1 3 12

to two hours or three to five hours, females on av-erage lead the time spent on using SNS over males. Only when it comes to using SNS for more than five hours do males (13.04%) take the majority over females (3.13%). These findings reflect that undergraduate students in private universities of Dhaka spend a considerable amount of time using SNS, and so it is important to find out what spe-cifically do they do while logged on to these SNS.

Table 9 and corresponding Figure 1 give us some insight about the SNS activity and pattern of the research sample. Respondents were allowed to choose more than one answer for this question. It shows that the majority of the students (51) con-nect with friends and family on SNS. The students

also spend time uploading photograph and videos (12), meeting new people (11) and playing games (11). They are comparatively less interested in writing blogs or online dating. Another interest-ing finding is that more male students (27) than females (24) connect with friends on SNS, whereas

Figure 1SNS activity of the students in the sample

Num

ber o

f stu

dent

s

60

40

20

0Connect with

friends and familyPlay

gamesMeet new

peopleOnline dating

Write blogs

Upload photos/videos

55 ONlINe sNs UsaGe PatterNs Of UNderGradUate stUdeNts IN PrIVate UNIVersItIes Of dHaKa, BaNGladesH

the majority of females play games (10) and up-load videos (9) on SNS, more than males (1 and 3 respectively).

These findings show that there is a insignifi-cant difference between males and females in the use of SNS like Facebook. The prior assumption that males play games more than females also quickly turns into a myth as this study shows that there is a significant number of the female respondents who claim to play online games as much as male respondents.

Table 9 also shows that female students up-load photograph and videos more frequently than their male counterparts. Concerning meeting new people (8), online dating (2) and writing blogs (2), male students outweigh their female counterparts (3, 0 and 1 respectively). It points out the male students’ desire to explore and make new connec-tions with unknown people on SNS whereas their female counterparts seem quite content with in-teracting with friends that they already know and with other SNS-related activities.

Therefore, in answering RQ1, it is clear that private university undergraduate students of Dha-

ka use online SNS to connect with their friends and family, matching with our Hypothesis 1. In other words, the findings of this study show that the number of private university undergraduate students of Dhaka (IV1) is found to be directly proportional to their activity level of connecting with friends and family (DV1) on online SNS, thus proving our Hypothesis 1. Comparatively few re-spondents have an interest in meeting new people, online dating and writing blogs. Playing games and uploading photographs and videos are more prev-alent among female students in the sample. When asked whether SNS usage negatively affected their academic statuses, 37 (47.4%) said ‘Yes’ (20 male and 17 female) while 41 (52.6%) said ‘No’ (24 males and 17 females). The majority of the students (52.6%) responded that their SNS usage activity did not affect their academic status. Let us consid-er Tables 7 and 8 once more. The majority of the respondents logged on to SNS daily (71.8%) and spent one to two hours on SNS every day (41.03%). Combining these findings with Figure 2, we get the following graph.

It is evident from Figure 3 that even though

Figure 2Does SNS usage negatively affect the academic status of the students?

Figure 3SNS usage pattern of the students and its effect on their studies

Num

ber o

f stu

dent

s

Num

ber o

f stu

dent

s

25

20

15

10

5

0

35302520151050

Use SNS daily 1–2 hours a day

Negatively affetcs academic status

FemalesMales

FemalesMales

Yes No

Does not affect academic status

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most of the students use SNS daily for one to two hours, the majority believe that it did not usually hamper their studies. Therefore to answer RQ2, the frequency and time spent on SNS by private university undergraduate students of Dhaka does not, according to the said students, negatively af-fect their academic statuses. This disagrees with our Hypothesis 2. To summarise, the time and fre-quency of SNS usage by private university under-graduate students of Dhaka (IV2) is not inversely proportional to their academic statuses (DV2), thus disproving our Hypothesis 2.

SNS usage not negatively affecting their aca-demic statuses seems to be a popular choice with the students of the sample, and it is expected. The students enjoy their time networking with friends on SNS and that is why they probably did not want to admit if it really had a negative impact on their studies. For this reason, a more in-depth look into this phenomenon is necessary. How SNS affects their academic statuses or, to be more specific, in what kind of academic related activities the stu-dents are engaged in over the Internet, is shown in the table below. The respondents were allowed to choose multiple answers.

From Table 10 and Figure 4, one can draw a clearer picture on the study-related activities of the students of the sample over the Internet. It is evident that the majority of the students (27), both males and females, use the Internet for getting in-formation. This means that when the students go online, besides using SNS, they also spend their

time researching and gathering information re-lating to their studies and assignments. However, many of them (22) agreed that spending time on-line and on SNS killed study time. Then again, they also stated that they performed online dis-cussion about studies (21) and sometimes engaged in online study groups (9) as well. These findings show that the students from our sample actively engage in various academic related activities over the Internet while networking with friends via on-line SNS. This may be one reason behind why the most of the students’ academic statuses are not negatively affected by heavy SNS usage.

LimitationsA larger sample of the respondents will increase the validity of the results of the study and will help to sketch the real picture much more clearly. The sample size was 78, due to limitation of time and resources. Ideally, it should have been something

Table 10Types of academic-related activities practised

by the students

Academic-related activities

Male Female Total

Get information 12 15 27Online study discussion

11 10 21

Online group study

4 5 9

Kills study time 10 12 22

Figure 4Study-related activities of the students

Num

ber o

f stu

dent

s

Get information Online study discussion

Online group study

Kills study time

FemalesMalesTotal

30

25

20

15

10

5

0

57 ONlINe sNs UsaGe PatterNs Of UNderGradUate stUdeNts IN PrIVate UNIVersItIes Of dHaKa, BaNGladesH

between 80 and 200 (Bartlett et al., 2001). It was difficult to find relevant literatures in the context of Bangladesh because no wide-range research on social networking sites usage has been carried out in Bangladesh so far. Furthermore, in a country like Bangladesh, Internet accessibility, income to purchase PCs, laptops, SNS-supported cell phones and overall literacy levels of the population are still lacking (Ardt et al., 2005). It is therefore difficult to perform a wide-range research on a subject like SNS activity.

This study focused on the undergraduates of Independent University, Bangladesh, and North South University, where the students have similar backgrounds. For example, the majority of them are from affluent families and they are mostly set-tled in Dhaka. Due to these reasons, their cultural orientations, surrounding environments, overall lifestyle and online behaviours are quite similar. For example, 77 out of the 78 respondents (98.72%) from the sample (Table 5) answered that they use online SNS. If more students were surveyed, from other private universities of Dhaka, the findings may be more varied and of greater validity.

Finally, this study would have produced more accurate results if permission to access the stu-dents’ grades or official transcripts for the semes-ter during which this survey was done could have been managed. But the university authorities were reluctant to give this permission and so the study relied on the honesty and integrity of the students regarding their academic statuses. These are some of the limitations of this study.

ConclusionThe aim of this research was to shed some light on the online social network sites’ usage patterns by private university undergraduate students of Dhaka. The findings provided a platform towards a better understanding on online SNS activities and its effects—online media literacy and com-munication contexts—on university students of Dhaka. This study is by no means a comprehensive one but the findings from the sample size provide

a scenario that may be a reflection of a wider be-havioural pattern concerning university students of Dhaka. The findings provided two conclusions. First, private university undergraduate students of Dhaka use online SNS primarily to connect and keep in touch with their friends and family. Sec-ondly, these students spend a substantial amount of time on SNS but it does not, according to them, usually hamper their studies or negatively affect their grades. One reason behind this may be that these students also engage in various academic activities like research, information gathering and online study discussions while being logged on to SNS. Studies on SNS behavioural patterns or other related fields are rare in Bangladesh. Therefore, this study can serve as a reference for further stud-ies in the future.

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Loh, J., & Woods, R. (2005). Report on primary education in Bangladesh: Challenges and suc-cesses. Produced by Bangladesh Bureau of Ed-ucation Information and Statistics (BANBEIS) and Bangladesh Ministry of Women and Chil-dren Affairs (MWCA). To be delivered at the third Summit on South Asian Development hosted by South Asian Society for Regional Cooperation (SAARC). Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://ih.stanford.edu/rosenfield/resources/Primary%20Education%20in%20Bangladesh.pdf

Ashraf, M. A., Ibrahim, Y., & Joarder, Md. H. R. (2009). Quality education management at pri-vate universities in Bangladesh: An explora-tory study. Jurnal Pendidik dan Pendidikan, Jil. 24, 17–32. Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://web.usm.my/education/publication/jpp24_mohammadashraf_17-32.pdf.

Qubee Wimax Bangladesh has now full Dhaka coverage (2012). BDTechie. Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.bdtechie.com/qubee-wimax-bangladesh-has-now-full-dha-ka-coverage.html

Bangladesh Internet Stats: Usage and Population Statistics. (2011). Miniwatts Marketing Group. Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.internetworldstats.com/asia.htm

Bartlett II, James E., Kotrlik, Joe E., & Higgins, Chadwick C. (2001). Organizational Research:

Determining Appropriate Sample Size in Survey

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Research. Information Technology, Learning, and Performance Journal, 19(1). Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.osra.org/itlpj/bartlettkotrlikhiggins.pdf

Belli, G. (2008). Nonexperimental Quantitative Research in Lapan. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from http://media.wiley.com/product_data/excerpt/95/04701810/0470181095-1.pdf

Boyd, D. M., & Ellison, Nicole B. (2007). Social network sites: Definition, history and schol-arship. Journal of Computer Mediated Com-munication, 13(1). Retrieved from on 7 March 2012 http://jcmc.indiana.edu/vol13/issue1/boyd.ellison.html

Chowdhury, G. S. Q., M.A.B., Iftekhar Ibne. Mu-hammadd Chowdhury, Foizul Islam. Achiev-ing broadband Internet access with WiMax in developing countries (e.g. Bangladesh). Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.csd.uwo.ca/People/gradstudents/mchowdh3/paper/Accepted/WiMax_Paper_Upg.pdf

Davies, S. (2010). Teletalk to get Bangladesh’s first 3G license. Cellular-news. Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.cellular-news.com/story/46318.php

Ellison, Nicole B., Lampe, C., & Steinfield, C. (2009). Social network sites and society: Cur-rent trends and future possibilities. The poten-tial for technology enabled connections. Michi-gan State University. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from https://www.msu.edu/~steinfie/EllisonLampeSteinfield2009.pdf

Gromov, G. (1995). Roads and crossroads of the Internet history. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from http://www.netvalley.com/cgibin/intval/net_history.pl?chapter=1.

Hopkins, W. G. (2008). Sportscience, 4(1). Re-trieved on 7 March 2012 from http://www.sportsci.org/jour/0001/wghdesign.html

Iconnect: Internet without bounds. Iconnect. Re-trieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.it-connectbd.com/about.php

Ito, Mizuko, Horst, Heather, Bittanti, Mateo, Boyd, Danah, Herr-stephenson, Becky, Lange, Patricia G., Pascoe, C. J., & Robinson, Laura. (2008). Living and learning with new media: Summary of findings from the Digital Youth Project. Macarthur: The John D. and Cath-erine T. Macarthur Foundation.

Independent University, Bangldesh. (2010). Var-sityadmission.com. Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.varsityadmission.com/Bangladeshi_University/University_Detail/?University_ID=161

Joinson, A. N. (2008). Looking at, looking up or keeping up with people? Motives and uses of

Facebook. In Proceedings of ACM CHI 2008 Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, April 5–10, 2008. Florence, Italy.

Katz, E., Blumler, J. G., & Gurevitch, M. (1974). Uses and gratifications research. Public Opin-ion Quarterly, 37(4), 509–524.

Mischaud, E. (2007). Twitter: Expressions of the whole self. MSc dissertation, Department of Media and Communications, London School of Economics and Political Science. North South University. (2010). Varsityadmission.com. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from http://www.varsityadmission.com/Bangladeshi_Uni-versity/University_Detail/?University_ID=202

Rahman, Md. Fazlur. (2011). Net users grow, con-tent not. The Daily Star. Retrieved on 8 March 2012 from http://www.thedailystar.net/newD-esign/news-details.php?nid=170840

Ruthfield, S. (1995).  the internet’s history and development from wartime tool to the fish-cam. Crossroads  2.1. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from http://xrds.acm.org/article.cfm?aid=332202

Rubin, A. (1994). Media uses and effects: A uses and gratifications approach. In J. Bryant & D. Zillmann (Eds.), Media effects: Advances in theory and research (pp. 413–436). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates Inc.

Sheikh, A. K. (2011). Private universities: A curse or a blessing? The Independent. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from http://www.thein-dependentbd.com/paper-edition/others/freeforall/53324-private-universities-a-curse-or-a-blessing.html

Social networking: A quantitative and qualitative research report into attitudes, behaviors and use. (2008). Ofcom Office of Communications.

Tauhid, B. R. (2008). Wimax ready to launch in Bangladesh. Ground Report. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from http://www.groundreport.com/Media_and_Tech/WiMax-is-ready-to-launch-in-Bangladesh/2873509

Uddin, N. (2010). Social media usage in Bang-ladesh is close to zero. Thinking Youth Blog. Retrieved on 7 March 2012 from http://www.youthinkers.com/2010/08/25/social-media-usage-in-bangladesh-is-close-to-zero

Urista, M. A., Dong, Q., & Day, K. D. (2008). Ex-plaining why young adults use MySpace and Facebook through uses and gratifications the-ory. Human Communication, 12(2), 215–229.

Vitak, J. M. (2008). Facebook friends: How online identities impact offline relationships. MA dis-sertation, Graduate School of Arts and Scienc-es, Georgetown University, Washington, D.C.

59 ONlINe sNs UsaGe PatterNs Of UNderGradUate stUdeNts IN PrIVate UNIVersItIes Of dHaKa, BaNGladesH

Appendix 2Survey questionnaire

Survey questionnaire ID: …………….. (For official use, leave blank)

Survey on the Online SNS usage patterns of the undergraduate students in private universities of Dhaka, Bangladesh

Please fill out the following questionnaire using the best of your knowledge. When answering questions with options, choose the option that best suits you by circling or ticking it. When answering questions with spaces, write in your answer in the given space. Thank you for patience and time for filling out this questionnaire that will contribute to a research which will try to find the patterns of usage of online social networking sites among undergraduate students in Bangladesh.

1) Gender: a) Male …… b) Female ……2) Age:

a) 16–18 …… b) 19–21 ……c) 22–24 …… d) above 24 ……

3) Father’s education:a) SSC …… b) HSC ……c) Honours …… d) Masters ……e) Others ……

4) Mother’s education:a) SSC …… b) HSC ……c) Honours …… d) Masters ……e) Others ……

5) Monthly family income:a) 10,000–30,000 ……b) 30,000–50,000 ……c) above 50,000 ……

6) Do you use Internet?a) Yes …… b) No ……

7) How frequently do you use Internet?a) Daily …… b) 3–4 times a week ……c) Once a week …… d) Once a month ……

8) How do your parents view your Internet usage?a) Positive …… b) Negative ……

If negative, then why?a) Your parents think you spend too much

time online. ……

b) Your parents think that you don’t study due to Internet usage. ……

c) Your parents think that Internet usage is making you unsocial. ……

d) Others, please specify. ……9) Do you have an account in any online social

networking sites?a) Yes …… b) No ……

If yes, then in which site?a) Facebook …… b) Twitter ……c) MySpace …… d) Others ……

10) How frequently do you use social networking sites?a) Daily …… b) 3–4 times a week ……c) Once a week …… d) Once a month ……

11) How long do you spend your time on online social networking sites?a) Less than 1 hour ……b) 1–2 hours ……c) 3–5 hours ……d) More than 5 hours ……

12) What do you do in social networking sites? (You can choose more than one option)a) Connect with family & friends ……b) Play games ……c) Meet new people ……d) Online dating ……e) Write notes/blogs/journals ……f) Upload photos/videos ……g) Share web content ……h) Others, please specify ……

13) Does time spent on social networking sites have a negative effect on your studies?a) Yes …… b) No ……

14) What kind of academic related activities do social networking sites allow you to engage in? (More than 1 option is allowed)a) Helps you to get information for assign-

ments ……b) Allows you to discuss about studies on-

line ……c) Makes online group study possible ……d) Kills your time for study ……e) Others, please specify ……

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mediaasia RESEARCH

When news becomes entertainment:Representations of corruption in Indonesia’s media and the implication of scandaleliSaBeth KRaMeR

elisabeth Kramer is a Phd candidate in the University of sydney, australia.MedIa asIa 40(1), pp. 60–72

In the current political climate, the Indonesian media is able to report openly on a range of

previously taboo political issues (Sen & Hill, 2000; Kakiailatu, 2007; Tapsell, 2010). One issue

that garners substantial attention is that of corruption. In stark contrast to the limited media

reporting on corruption prior to 1998, it has been a stalwart issue for the press since the

Reformation era (1998–), dominating both print and television media. This paper explores how

corruption has been portrayed in the media, concluding that there is a clear tendency towards

a ‘politics-as-entertainment’ depiction of corruption cases, as evidenced by the inclination

towards ‘scandalising’ the issue. This paper argues that this format of reporting has broad

implications for the anti-corruption movement in Indonesia because it trivialises a key political

issue and can ultimately discourage meaningful public debate and engagement with the anti-

corruption movement.

In the current political climate, the Indone-sian media is able to report openly on a range of previously taboo political issues (Sen &

Hill, 2000; Kakiailatu, 2007; Tapsell, 2010). One issue that garners substantial attention is that of corruption. In stark contrast to the limited media reporting on corruption prior to 1998, it has been a stalwart issue for the press since the Reformation era (1998–), dominating both print and television media. The increase in media attention has been driven by two main factors. First, following 1998, there were changes in legislation that subsequently

increased media freedom. Indonesia’s Media Bill was redrafted in 1999 during the Habibie Presi-dency, terminating the watchdog activities of the Ministry of Information, which had previously served as a proxy mechanism for censorship (Sen & Hill, 2000, p. 7; Anwar, 2010). With these new laws, Indonesia’s media became one of the freest in Asia (Anwar, 2010). Second, following 1998 there was a widespread proliferation of new me-dia outlets, resulting in an increase in the absolute number of newspapers, television and radio sta-tions and online news websites, inevitably leading

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to an increased quantity and availability of infor-mation.

The desire to report openly on corruption has become almost an obsession in Indonesia fol-lowing decades of media censorship on the issue. The reason for this is twofold: it is the assertion of a commitment to holding those in politics ac-countable to the public and it forces improved transparency of the government. The media plays a key role in informing the public about political issues and providing information required by the general population so that they can make sound decisions and participate more meaningfully in the democratic process (Balkin, 1999; Street, 2001); therefore, it functions as a key mechanism for promoting political transparency and account-ability. Moreover, the public appear intrigued with the corruption scandals that emerge, demanding more news on corruption while the media fuels this interest with provocative stories highlighting the scandalous nature of corruption cases.

In Indonesia, a broad spectrum of reporting styles exists, but the tendency towards report-ing corruption as sensationalised political scan-dal is increasingly apparent (Margana, 2009). Front-page articles with dramatic headlines and paparazzi-style photographs charting the latest evidence and speculation as they emerge, are now commonplace.1 Such reporting is a double-edged sword: it increases public awareness of corruption cases and the figures involved, but it also risks triv-ialising them in favour of overstated coverage that emphasises the dramatic elements of the cases rather than the underlying institutional and sys-temic causes of Indonesia’s ‘culture of corruption’.

This paper explores the nature of corruption reporting in Indonesia, drawing upon key corrup-tion scandals that captured the media (and the na-tion’s) attention in 2011–2012. It argues that media coverage of corruption issues has erred towards a ‘politics-as-entertainment’ format to attract read-ers and sustain interest in corruption scandals as they play out over an extended period of time in the political and judicial arenas. To this end, I

identify three key forms of reporting which aim to pique curiosity and intrigue: ‘scandalisation’ (skan-dalisasi), ‘soap-operafication’ and the reporting of banalities. These three modes of reporting play into the increasingly dominant trend of ‘politics-as-entertainment’, which has the potential to influ-ence public opinion about corruption issues in a number of ways. While they generate interest, and sometimes even outrage, surrounding corruption issues, these modes of reporting are more likely to promote knowledge of particular personalities and cases rather than encouraging a deeper un-derstanding of the political and structural reasons that underlie much of the corrupt behaviour of In-donesian public officials.

The Influence of Media on PoliticsThe influence of the media is normatively ac-cepted as crucial in shaping public discourse and debate. Even though it has no formal authority to condemn the behaviour of public officials, a free mass media is widely understood to have an obli-gation to promote good governance and facilitate debates about corruption in several ways. These include raising public awareness about the causes, consequences and possible remedies for corrup-tion (Rose-Ackerman, 2003, p. 73; Peruzzotti & Smulovitz, 2006). Indeed, some view the media as being one of the institutions capable of having widespread impact upon debates on corruption (World Bank, 2011).

More commonly, however, the media is seen to play a role in investigating and reporting the details of corruption cases as they unfold. These types of stories also act as a check on those in government, who presumably wish to maintain a positive public image in order to further or main-tain their political careers. The symbolic capital of a ‘good reputation’ is something that politicians and public officials use to not only gain public sup-port but also influence political decision-making (Sanders & Canel, 2006, p. 457). The potency of the media in discrediting politicians and expos-ing ‘unacceptable’ behaviour gives it unparalleled

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power in shaping how these individuals are viewed by the public. Thus, the media has been identified as a core social accountability mechanism within democratic systems, providing a continuing check on political misconduct in between elections (Grimes, 2008, p. 4). As a source of knowledge for the public, the media is recognised as a key pillar of democracy, often referred to as the ‘fourth es-tate’, providing information to citizens upon which they can form opinions and make decisions relat-ing to a range of political issues.2

While the media has an important role to play in monitoring governments, it is far from a panacea when it comes to accountability. There is a normative assumption that the media, as a pur-veyor of information and knowledge, automati-cally empowers its citizens and promotes trans-parency. However, this is at best a crude inter-pretation of a highly complex relationship (Street, 2001, pp. 231–232), the weaknesses of which are exposed by looking more closely at the metaphor of transparency itself. Literally, the term transpar-ency “suggests a medium through which we view things” (Balkin, 1999, p. 394), which is conceptu-ally separate from the ‘object’ being observed and which does not substantially alter the nature of the object itself. Yet the media is not conceptually sep-arate from what it reports, as it has a deciding role in what is reported and how it is framed. Journal-ism is a structured activity shaped by sources, the publication’s interests and the availability of mate-rial resources (Street, 2001, p. 152–155). The me-dia thus creates its own political reality by shaping public opinion on the issues on which it reports.

Even if journalists and editors believe that they are speaking to an existing audience (or audi-ences), they are in fact “imagining them and con-stituting them” (Street, 2001, p. 53). The relation-ship between media and audience can be viewed through the prism of ‘dependency’, where this dependency takes a range of forms. Ball-Rokeach and De Fleur (1976, p. 6) identified three such de-pendencies: (a) to understand the world around us; (b) to determine ways in which to act mean-

ingfully within that world; and (c) as a form of ‘fantasy-escape’ from everyday problems. In con-structing its reporting for a specific audience and with a specific ‘dependency’ in mind, the media can alter various forms of cognition, feelings and behaviour within a specific setting. This concep-tual framework allows for an assessment of media outside of its normatively-held role as an informa-tion provider. Accessing information provided by the media is not necessarily the primary reason that people are attracted to news stories: all forms of media, not just the tabloid media, embody a source of entertainment and potential escapism.

The media represents a powerful vehicle for shaping public opinion and consequently is prone to elite capture and commercial interests.3 These elites can come from within or outside of the government. Concerns related to government co-option stem primarily in situations where freedom of the press is limited by government ownership of a large proportion of the media, which may be-come a vehicle for government propaganda and/or experience censorship (Djankov et al., 2001, pp. 2–3). The privatisation of the media is thus, on the one hand, promoted as a positive step for accountability. On the other hand, however, a pri-vatised media is not necessarily the remedy for this problem, particularly in states where a small, wealthy elite class are able to capture the market or where the pressures of economic competition pit the maximisation of sales against fourth estate responsibilities.

Media ownership in Indonesia does reflect a level of elite capture, with wealthy business peo-ple and politicians among the owners of several high-profile media conglomerates in the country.4 For example, Aburizal Bakrie, the current chair-man of the Golkar political party, owns a number of media outlets, both print (Surabaya Post) and television (ANTV and TVONE), as well as several online media sites. Another prominent example is Suryo Palo, who created his own political party, Nasdem, in 2010. He also owns the newspaper Media Indonesia and television channel MetroTV.

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Ownership of the media by elites does not appear to have resulted in the suppression of reporting on corruption issues, indeed, such reporting appears to be at an all-time high; however, it does influ-ence which stories are reported and how they are portrayed (Tapsell, 2012). In deciding what cases are covered, and the depth with which they are covered, elites hope to manipulate public percep-tions of issues related to their interest, either by skimming over negative reports concerning their own interests, or by highlighting the weaknesses of rivals.

Why Scandal?Scandals involving politicians or bureaucrats are a by-product of a free media, as the freedom to report on the private behaviour of public officials is often curtailed in cases where the media is re-stricted by the government (Achter, 2003, p. 65). However, the decision to expose and report on a scandal is one influenced by more than just the ability to do so: just because reporters can report on scandals, it does not mean they must do so. The reasons for reporting scandals can be considered within three broad categories: ethical, political and profit-driven. These reasons are not necessar-ily mutually exclusive; however, one of these rea-sons often provides the dominant motivation for publicising a story.

If we accept the premise that the media—for all its limitations—is a crucial component of a functioning democracy, it follows that informing the public of matters of national interest is a core responsibility of journalists. The reporting of po-litical scandal is often framed in these terms: the media have a moral obligation to expose unethical behaviour by political figures because the public have a right to know how their elected representa-tives act when representing their interests. The media has a long history of exposing improper behaviour among public figures, and this infor-mation can ultimately be used to hold them to account, either by forcing resignation and/or by spurring prosecution and conviction.5 This tradi-

tion, however, is not easy to maintain. Corrup-tion cases often involve complex legal, economic and financial dimensions, and ‘good’ investigative journalism assumes that journalists have the re-quired legal and financial understanding to be able to analyse all aspects of the situation, which is not always the case (Ronning, 2009, p. 166). Journal-ists leave themselves open to defamation suits if they are not able to support their accusations with evidence. These considerations may ultimately de-ter the media from reporting certain cases or ac-cusations, undermining the ethical responsibility to provide pertinent political information to the public. Consequently, the motivations to report on corruption scandals may be driven by other, less noble, factors.

Although media scandals are often based on exaggeration and sensationalism, they still can play a role in raising public awareness (Lull & Hin-erman, 1997). Scandals that expose unacceptable behaviour by public officials (albeit not necessarily illegal activity) have implications for both their po-sition and profile. Scandals are a manifestation of the ‘politics of shaming’ that can not only damage an individual’s reputation, but also serve as a social reminder that despite any legal outcomes, certain acts still constitute moral transgressions (Tumber & Waisbord, 2004, p. 1145). In cases of corruption where evidence can be brought against those ac-cused, the scandals instigated by the media may potentially have tangible legal ramifications in-cluding investigations and/or convictions.

More fundamentally, the reporting of scan-dals raises deeper questions about a person’s moral integrity. Even if the person has not been found to have committed a crime, they may still be perceived to have transgressed social norms reflecting dominant conceptions of morality—what personal behaviour is acceptable versus what is unacceptable (Tumber and Waisbord, 2004, p. 1146). In this way, the reporting of scandals can open the door for public discussion about morals and values, stimulating debate about and public interest in the basic principles that underpin how

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politicians act as individuals.Reporting on political scandals may also be

driven by competing political interests. The me-dia is built upon links, networks and relationships that may sometimes blur the line between who is ‘inside’ and who is ‘outside’ (Ronning, 2009, p. 167). The interests of media organisations, busi-nesses and politicians have the potential to blur, which can influence decisions about what stories to include and omit, what issues to report on and whose names to mention. The media is not apoliti-cal, and personal, business and political relation-ships can influence reporting just as strongly as investigative journalism and ethics. In the politi-cal arena, the media can also be used as a tool for discrediting other politicians or parties. The expo-sure of certain ‘unacceptable’ behaviour may have follow-on benefits for other elites such as rival politicians or those with connected business inter-ests. Gillespie and Okruhlik (1991, p. 88) contend that this kind of coverage is focused upon discred-iting opposition rather than confronting corrup-tion issues in any meaningful way. Reports of cor-ruption scandals, particularly the targets of such reports and the intensity of the scrutiny, can thus be engineered to meet these political interests if media outlets or journalists have political links to specific parties.

Scandals for ProfitIn the case of Indonesia, the trend towards the ‘scandalisation’ of corruption cases does represent a desire to increase audience numbers and there-fore profits (personal communication with Igna-tius Haryanto, 3 February 2012). This has a pro-found impact upon dominant media narratives.6 As a result, the media is now increasingly directed towards influencing consumers of the private sphere and less directed towards serving the needs of public citizens. This influences both the stories reported and the quality of reporting: corruption cases are portrayed in a dramatic fashion with a fo-cus upon intriguing key players rather than on un-derlying structural reasons supporting corruption.

If profit-making is the primary raison d’etre for a media outlet, the timely breaking of stories that capture public attention may be prioritised over thorough fact-checking, unbiased reporting and an overall commitment to quality journalism, side-lining the fourth estate role of providing news for the benefit of informing and educating the public (Tumber & Waisbord, 2004, pp. 1144–1145). The competing interests of democratic responsibilities and profit-making represent a dilemma for media outlets, which need to formulate their own priori-ties in relation to this nexus.

So why would a media group choose to focus on scandals? Aside from any political advantages the reporting of corruption may hold, scandals themselves are also a profitable genre of news (Tumber & Waisbord, 2004, p. 1147).7 Some au-thors argue that scandal appeals to an innate hu-man characteristic, identified by the German con-cept of schadenfreude—taking pleasure in the mis-fortune of others. However, there is debate about the extent to which this can adequately explain the popularity of reporting on scandal (Thompson, 2000; Achter, 2003, p. 67). Other authors identify the essential function of scandal as revealing the humanity and human frailty of others, “to strip off the impersonal masks donned by those in author-ity” (Moodie, 1990, p. 881). Whatever the reason, scandals sell, and the rise of ‘politics-as-enter-tainment’ as a format for reporting is reflected in the increasing popularity of sensationalised news coverage. As competition between media outlets increases, scandals that attract public interest are used as a means to stimulate audience numbers, subsequently boosting corporate profits.

As the line between news and entertainment is increasingly blurred, reporting on scandals be-comes less about informing citizens for the public good and increasingly about catching and retain-ing their attention as consumers. In their assess-ment of the influence of the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal in the United States, Carpini and Williams (2001, p. 178) argue that national politics “has been reduced to a sometimes amusing, sometimes mel-

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odramatic, but seldom relevant spectator sport” and diverts the attention of the government and the public away from more substantive issues. The rise of ‘politics-as-entertainment’ is also danger-ous because media scandals are designed to pique and retain interest and do not necessarily lead to truth, revelations or depth of coverage (Balkin, 1999, p. 407; Street, 2001, pp. 44–45). If the me-dia’s focus is on generating interest and not on the reporting of ‘truth’, then it is no longer fulfilling its public interest role and meeting the expectations of its function as the fourth estate.

The changing media landscape has also put pressure on media outlets to produce 24-hour coverage of breaking scandals. The urgency to ‘produce’ news can lead to a disregard for journal-istic practices, as media outlets scramble to ‘scoop’ their competitors. Moreover, the 24-hour news cycle puts pressure on journalists to find new an-gles for stories (Tumber & Waisbord, 2004), which can result in the reporting of ‘banalities’ merely in order to keep a story in the spotlight.8 This focus on breadth, as opposed to depth, has also led to an incessant need for political commentary, with scrutiny resembling that of the paparazzi rather than hard-hitting investigative journalism aiming to uncover the root of the case. Instead of report-ing purely on facts, coverage tends to frame po-litical scandals as soap operas or even situational comedies (depending on the nature of the scandal at hand), encouraging sensationalism and specu-lation, which serves to extend the shelf life of a particular story. Coverage of political corruption within the media in Indonesia is voyaging into this territory.

Media, Corruption and the Case of IndonesiaPrior to the New Order (1966–1998), the Indone-sian media had a history of reporting on corrup-tion issues.9 Concern over the number of corrupt colonial officials emerged during the latter years of the Dutch colonial regime (Wertheim, 1963). In the early Sukarno period, corruption featured

as a key political issue, and was widely reported in Indonesia’s newspapers, with several Minis-ters and bureaucrats being accused of corruption, even though the number of criminal convictions remained low (Setiyono et al., 2012). Anti-corrup-tion reporting was much more subdued during the New Order, alternately being suppressed and co-opted by the government for political gain (Smith, 1971, pp. 437–439; Margana, 2009). During the Reformation era, the focus on particular cases has waxed and waned, but corruption has been a dom-inant theme that shows no sign of fading.

Incidences of corruption from the national, regional and local levels were frequently reported in the media in the twelve months between mid-2011 and mid-2012. However, the media focused most intensely on issues that emerged as a result of the conjecture and discussion surrounding the appointment of a new head for Indonesia’s Cor-ruption Eradication Commission (Komisi Pem-berantasan Korupsi, KPK) in December 2011. With the anticipation of the appointment of a new KPK chief, media coverage focused on three par-ticular corruption cases that had been identified as priority cases for the KPK.10 The first of these was ‘Centurygate’, the case in which the govern-ment approved a Rp. 6.7 trillion bailout package under suspicious circumstances for the privately-owned Bank Century. The bailout package was al-legedly a far larger sum than required and there are indications that a substantial proportion was siphoned off and channelled towards other politi-cal interests, including political campaigns.11 The second of the cases was the Wisma Atlet scandal that emerged out of construction contracts for the Southeast Asian (SEA) Games held in Jakarta and Palembang during 2011. Members of the House of Representatives (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat, DPR) were accused of accepting bribes in return for fa-vouring certain contractors in the procurement process for the games. Though several key mem-ber of the Democrat Party have been implicated in the scandal, the majority of media attention has focused upon former beauty queen-turned-

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politician Angelina Sondakh. The third was the Cek Pelawat scandal in which Nunun Nurbaeti was accused of distributing approximately Rp. 20.65 billion to members of the DPR in return for the appointment of Miranda Goeltom as deputy chairperson of the Bank of Indonesia. Media re-ports about each of these scandals abounded, closely following new developments and the lives of the key corruption figures involved. Even before being resolved, the scandals had taken their toll upon public opinions of corruption and the gov-ernment.

The portrayal of these three corruption cases during the case study period was diverse; however, through an analysis of newspaper, magazine, and television coverage, there were discernible trends in how they were reported Scandals naturally lend themselves to reporting genres that draw on sen-sationalism, soap-operafication and banality, all of which are apparent in the Indonesian media’s cov-erage of these cases. Sensationalism relates to the ability of media coverage to use presentation, con-tent and language to attract attention and provoke an emotional response (Vettehen et al., 2005). It can manifest itself in several ways, for example the placement of the news story on the front page of a newspaper or running it as the primary breaking news report on television, particularly if the topic is not necessarily a new one. The use of images, including title font, photographs, graphics and even bright colours also attracts audience atten-tion. Articles about Angelina Sondakh and Nunun Nurbaeti were commonly accompanied by photo-graphs of the women. Television coverage featured camera shots following the corruptors as they ar-rived at the airport in Jakarta (as with the case of Nunun), as they arrived at and left the KPK, or during other public outings. The images often had a paparazzi-like quality, resembling images one might expect to find in a gossip magazine.

The primary aim of sensationalised reporting is to pique interest rather than to inform. Reports about the extravagant lifestyles of those accused of corruption are a prime example, contrasting the

rich, immoral corruptors with the honest, hard-working average Indonesian. Having fled the coun-try, Nunun was recognised while out shopping in Bangkok and subsequently extradited to Indonesia in December 2011. By emphasising the circum-stances around her arrest, the media highlighted that she had been living a life of luxury while in hiding from Indonesian authorities.12 In the case of Angelina Sondakh, referred to affectionately as ‘Angie’ by the Indonesian press, the corruption suspect is presented as a beautiful woman with a tragic family history and a bright young recruit for the Democrat Party.13 Her fall from grace through her embroilment in the Wisma Atlet scandal is used to exemplify the ultimate moral transgres-sion: someone who had it all but still put selfish interests ahead of the public good. This form of sensationalism aims to provoke a strong emotion-al response that will compel readers to follow the case with more interest in future.

The term ‘soap operafication’ describes the inclination to portray scandals as unfolding dra-mas with lead characters, both on the side of good and evil. As the soap opera begins, the lead char-acters and their support cast are introduced, with other actors entering the show as the story pro-ceeds, and the audience is made familiar with all aspects of their personal and political life. Along-side the establishment of these characters, we are introduced to the broad premise of the drama, though we do not know all the details. The mys-tery follows the key actors through the soap op-era, with the ultimate goal of determining whether these characters are indeed guilty of corruption. This form of reporting draws upon human curios-ity and voyeurism, exemplified by the popularity of tabloid reporting and paparazzi journalism.

The Cek Pelawat scandal, in which parlia-mentarians were bribed to support the election of Miranda Goeltom as deputy head of the Bank of Indonesia, lends itself particularly well to this style of reporting because several key aspects of the case remain unexplained. First, the motivation for Nunun in becoming embroiled in the distri-

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bution of money to DPR members was unclear. Nunun had no direct political link to Miranda Goeltom, nor did it appear that they had close personal relationship (although photographic evi-dence did eventually emerge indicating that they had previously met at social functions). This im-plies that Nunun was working on behalf of another party, whose identity was unknown. Second, the source of the funding was a mystery: who would have an interest in ensuring that Miranda Goel-tom was elected? Third, Miranda herself denied any knowledge of the transactions, despite the fact that witnesses attested that they had been paid off in return for supporting her appointment as Vice-President of the Bank of Indonesia. Miran-da refused to acknowledge any culpability in the payments, which challenged the very basis of the bribery case. Finally, like all good soap operas, this case also included what was ostensibly a case of amnesia. Nunun’s ability to recall details was alleg-edly inhibited by a serious brain affliction, limit-ing her memory and ability to recall details. This prompted the KPK to order independent medical tests in an effort to refute the assertion she could not be called as a witness in the court proceedings related to this case.14 Media coverage of the events speculated upon each of these enigmas in head-lines, opinions pieces, readers’ letters and through cartoons, fuelling the conversion of politics into a form of entertainment.

A development in the Centurygate scandal also demonstrates the emphasis on drama in media coverage of the case. In August 2012, former KPK chief Antasari Azhar, in prison for complicity in a murder, alleged that Indonesian president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono and a number of other high profile officials met in October 2008 to discuss the legal ramifications of the Bank Century bailout. Antasari accused the President of personally ap-proving the bailout plan, in direct contradiction to statements from the President himself that he was not involved in the decision. While these allega-tions themselves are unsubstantiated, the ensuing media coverage has the hallmarks of soap-oper-

afied reporting. The President, Yudhoyono, is the main character in the drama, with Antasari Azhar playing his adversary. The mystery to be uncov-ered is who is lying and who is telling the truth. To this end, a high-profile supporting cast has also been brought in, such as Hatta Rajasa, coordinat-ing minister for the economy and leader of the Partai Amanat Nasional (National Mandate Party, PAN) political party, and Denny Indrayana, the deputy minister for law and human rights. Both were supposedly in attendance at the meeting and issued press statements to the effect that a meet-ing did occur but there was no discussion of the Bank Century bailout.15 The ensuing speculation is typified in an article in online news site, Tempo Interaktif (10 August 2012), which ventured that the swift denial by the President was indicative of deeper concerns: “Oddly enough, the President seemed to feel the need to reinforce the denial. It creates the sense that the issue is very worrying for the President”. The analysis of the President’s response and the extrapolation that it implies guilt stimulated further development of the narrative from a different angle, providing a new direction in which the soap opera can progress, and room for further speculation on who was involved and who knew what in relation to the case.

A third aspect of scandal reporting in the In-donesian media is its focus on banalities—namely the reporting of news on corruptors that is neither central to the case nor relevant to understanding the underlying motives for corruption—through in-depth coverage of trivial aspects of the corrup-tors’ lives that are unrelated to the charges they face. The focus on Angelina Sondakh’s personal life, including accusations that she had an affair with her late husband’s brother and persistent coverage of her relationship with a former KPK investigator, are more akin to gossip and tabloid reporting than hard-hitting journalism. For exam-ple, an article in the Jakarta Globe (26 July 2012) ran the headline ‘Angelina asks boyfriend to visit late husband’s grave with children’; it reported that Angelina had asked her boyfriend to visit her late

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husband’s grave with her children for Idul Fitri while she was in detention—a story that had no relevance to the corruption charges Angelina was facing and no obvious public interest value. This genre of reporting, focusing on the minutiae of Angelina’s private life, draws upon public curiosity about her personal activities rather than the im-plications of her actions as a lawmaker and parlia-mentarian who has allegedly acted against public interest by accepting bribes.

Another example of such reporting was the keen media interest in the conditions of detention for Nunun Nurbaeti in the Cek Pelawat case,. One example of this reporting was provided by Seputar Indonesia entitled ‘Nunun is without special facili-ties’ on 12 December 2011, following her transfer to Pondok Bambu gaol in East Jakarta. This par-ticular article occupied almost two pages of the newspaper, with large photographs of the room, other inmates and the front gate of the prison, as well as brief details on what she was being fed and her anticipated daily routine. It did not include any reference to a statement from Nunun about her new living conditions, or a discussion of the significance of her detention. While Seputar Indo-nesia may have scooped its competitors, this new information was far from pertinent to the serious issue of corruption.

These three modes of reporting—scandali-sation, soap-operafication, and the reporting of banalities—play into the increasingly dominant trend of ‘politics-as-entertainment’, which has the potential to influence public opinion about cor-ruption issues in a number of ways. While they generate interest in corruption issues, and some-times even outrage, they are more likely to pro-mote knowledge of particular personalities and cases rather than deeper understandings of the political and structural reason that underlie much of the corrupt behaviour by public officials.

ImplicationsThe pervasive coverage of corruption issues in Indonesia’s media has one clear outcome: the

prominence of corruption in the government is thoroughly underscored for the Indonesian pub-lic. What is less straightforward are the potential impacts of the reporting trends, the sensational-ism of cases and the focus on banalities on popular attitudes towards anti-corruption efforts and the movement as a whole. The positive effects of the media coverage are, put simply, increased public awareness of the problem through the broadcast-ing of case progression, public statements by those in power and condemnations of corruption. Sev-eral scholars and institutions propose that with-out widespread social support, governance and anti-corruption reforms will have little success (for some examples see Galtung, 1998; Johnston, 1998, p. 124; USAID, 2010; World Bank, 2011). Howev-er, as Danang J. Widyoko of Indonesian Corrup-tion Watch (ICW) notes, the majority of Indone-sia’s anti-corruption activists are well-educated, middle-class citizens, and thus the question for the movement becomes how to engage ‘ordinary’ Indonesians (personal communication, 20 January 2012). Consequently, the impacts of media cover-age upon public perceptions of corruption take on a key significance, particularly as combating cor-ruption is continually highlighted as a key political issue in Indonesia.

The influence of increased public awareness of corruption issues could have several potential outcomes. On the positive side, it may spur local-ly-based campaigns, attendance at anti-corruption rallies, the signing of petitions, donating funds to or volunteering for anti-corruption organisations and other expressions of solidarity with the anti-corruption cause. However, increased awareness has not automatically produced such outcomes in Indonesia. Anti-corruption rallies remain the bas-tion of NGOs and student groups, failing to ap-peal to a broad cross-section of Indonesian soci-ety. Donations from the public to anti-corruption NGOs also remain low, with organisations such as Indonesia Corruption Watch (ICW) assembling ‘mobile marketing’ teams to sign up individuals as regular donors in an attempt to subsidise their

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regular funding.The nature of media reporting on corruption

has raised a number of concerns about how peo-ple perceive the issue of corruption and has con-sequences for overall public attitudes towards the issue. Assuming that there is no such thing as ‘bad publicity’ in the case of raising awareness about corruption issues contradicts observations of how anti-corruption sentiment plays out on the ground in Indonesia. There is concern that the scandalised nature of reporting is fostering interest towards corruption that is based on intrigue and entertain-ment rather than on consideration of corruption as a serious political topic.16 Corruption cases, particularly those discussed in the previous sec-tion, attract public attention because of their dra-ma, rather than their reflection of a system that is not functioning as it should; they are soap-operas rather than a serious indictment of a dysfunctional political system. Moreover, the over-arching inter-est in hair styles, fashion and relationships (Amir-uddin, 2012) is testimony to the fact that corrup-tion reports sometimes tend to focus on aspects that are unrelated to the crime itself.

In diverting the focus of these cases from the crimes to unrelated aspects of the personality or appearance of the accused, the portrayals stop highlighting the detrimental aspects of the crime for the wider public. Ball-Rokeach and DeFleur (1976, p. 17) contend that media messages not linked to an individual’s social reality may have lit-tle effect on altering their behaviour. Scandalised depictions of cases which fail to relate cases back to the reality of regular people, or put forward a sense of how these cases have real impacts for the public, are thus unlikely to change the behaviour of the general public who are not already involved in the anti-corruption movement.

A second concern is that the extensive cover-age of corruption cases in the media is leading to perceptions of the anti-corruption movement as being ineffective. In a study on the impact of nega-tive reporting about unions and its correlation to public support for the union movement, Schmidt

(1993) concluded that media coverage that high-light the negative aspects of the union movement, namely strikes, led to a decrease in public support among non-union members. Similarly, those who are not already involved in the anti-corruption movement may feel less inclined to take action as a result of incessant media reporting, which rarely reports successes. The cases, particularly if they are not resolved in a timely manner, contribute to the sentiment that the fight against corruption is an ‘unwinnable’ war and thus not worth the investment of personal time. In reporting all the obstacles facing the investigation and prosecution of corruption cases in meticulous and unrelenting details, the media does nothing to help overcome the impression that corruption is an entrenched part of Indonesia’s political culture, and that even professionals tasked with overcoming the prob-lem are struggling to do so. The increased apathy towards corruption issues will do little to boost public interest or support for the anti-corruption movement, even if the progress made by the anti-corruption movement is admirable given the sheer size of the task.

ConclusionThe media is crucial in shaping public discourse and attitudes towards political issues. As the In-donesian media is now able to report openly and freely on corruption, dissecting and understand-ing the impact of this coverage takes on a new importance. This paper has analysed some of the trends in the Indonesian media coverage, drawing upon reports on three major corruption scandals between 2011 and 2012. The Indonesian media appears to be reporting on corruption with vigour, enthusiastically covering scandals to the point that the problem saturates publications and television programming. This, in itself, is not a bad thing, as these reports serve to inform and educate people about events and actions in the political arena, providing them with access to information that they might not otherwise have.

The concern, however, lies in the depiction

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of the stories. The dominant ‘politics-as-enter-tainment’ format, with its focus on characters and intrigues, encourages a cosmetic interest and a superficial understanding of corruption issues facing the Indonesian government. This, in turn, leads to a diminished quality of political discourse in which “political arguments are trivialized, ap-pearances matter more than reality, personalities more than policies, the superficial more than the profound” (Street, 2001, p. 185). Moreover, it un-dermines optimism in the anti-corruption cause and discourages people from investing time in a cause that they see as an unwinnable war. With its key democratic role as the fourth estate, the me-dia has a responsibility to inform citizens in a way that not only provides oversight, but also fosters meaningful debate about issues facing the state. In this way, the framing of corruption scandals as en-tertainment in Indonesia poses a risk to the anti-corruption movement, encouraging interest but not necessarily meaningful action.

Notes1. Personal communication with Dr Meuthia

Rachman, Professor of Sociology at Univer-sitas Indonesia (17 January 2012); J. Danang Widoyoko, Director at Indonesian Corruption Watch (20 January 2012); and Ignatius Hary-anto, Director of the Centre for Press Develop-ment in Jakarta (3 February 2012).

2. As Schultz (1998, p. 1) notes, the term ‘fourth estate’ has become so popular that it contin-ues to be used even though “most people have forgotten—if they ever knew—what the first, second and third estates were”.

3. Elite capture and media bias do not inevita-bly lead to negative impacts for the citizenry. Corneo (2006, p. 39) asserts that a biased media has the scope to improve the political equilibrium if there are distortions in report-ing across the media sector as a whole. How-ever, Corneo also argues that while such an outcome is possible, the general tendency is for elite capture to be targeted at manipulat-ing public opinion in a way that overwhelm-ingly benefits the interests of the elite who own the media.

4. For further reading on the issue of media own-ership and its impacts in Indonesia, see Tapsell (2010).

5. One commonly cited example of this scenario is the Watergate scandal in the early 1970s, in which American President Nixon was ultimate-ly forced to resign over links to an attempt to break into the Democratic National Committee headquarters. The outcome of this case is seen as an example of the triumph of investigative journalism in holding public officials to account (Heidenheimer et al., 1990, p. 6).

6. For a useful discussion of the impacts of com-mercialisation of media upon public account-ability, see Habermas’ seminal work, The structural transformation of the public sphere (1989). Habermas contends that the rise of the media has led to the commodification of in-formation and opinion, and that the media no longer serves the public good, but instead aims to influence consumers in the private sphere.

7. While there is little investigation into the exact financial gain related to the reporting of scan-dals within Indonesia, studies into the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal in the United States have dem-onstrated that television stations, particularly 24-hours cable news channels, generated huge increases in audience and revenues as a result of coverage (Tumber & Waisbord, 2004, p. 1147).

8. I thank Ignatius Haryanto for his insight in this respect and credit him with sharing with me his concept of ‘the reporting of banalities’ in the Indonesian media (personal communica-tion, 3 February 2012).

9. Corruption issues were commonly discussed in the media in the years leading up to 1965, though little academic work has been pub-lished on this topic. One rare example of his-torical reporting on corruption in Indonesia is a recent edition of Indonesian language maga-zine Historia (2012), which published a collec-tion of articles on prominent corruption cases during the 1950s.

10. This is not to suggest that no other cases have been the target of media coverage. What sets these cases apart, however, is prevalence, con-sistency and the breadth of coverage.

11. For a complete account of the Bank Century case through to 2011, see Soesatyo (2012, pp. 131–174). Soesatyo is connected with the Gol-kar political party and this may influence some of the conclusion he presents, but the facts of the case (as they were known at the time of pub-lication) are presented clearly and concisely.

12. Some examples of coverage include Tempo’s article ‘Seperti apa rumah mewah nunun di Bangkok?’ (Tempo Interaktif, 19 December 2011) and a piece in the Jakarta Globe (27 De-cember 2011) that described Nunun as having

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been on “a nine-month shopping spree in Sin-gapore and Thailand”.

13. Angelina Sondakh was crowned Miss Indone-sia in 2001. Her late husband, also an MP, died suddenly of a heart attack in February 2011, leaving her widowed with one child and two stepchildren.

14. Examples of coverage include articles on memory loss such as: ‘Nunun’s memory fine, but not her ankle: Golkar’ (The Jakarta Globe, 16 June 2011), ‘Nunun questioning will prove truth about memory loss: KPK’ (The Jakarta Post, 20 December 2011) and ‘Memahami otak Nunun Nurbaeti’ [Understanding the brain of Nunun Nurbaeti] (Kompas.com, 18 July 2011).

15. For examples of coverage, see ‘Hatta rajasa bantah ada rapat century di istana presiden’ (Berita Satu, 13 August 2012 ) and ‘Denny In-drayana: Antasari Azhar berbohong’ (Tempo.com, 10 August 2012).

16. I would like to thank writer and activist Har-tono Sutejo for our discussion and his insights in this respect (personal communication, 19 January 2012).

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mediaasia RESEARCH

Job satisfaction of journalists:Professional aspirations, newsroom culture and social contexthao XiaoMinG, cheRian GeoRGe anD Shi conG

Hao Xiaoming is Professor in Wee Kim Wee school of Communication & Information, Nanyang technological University, singapore. Cherian George is associate Professor in Wee Kim Wee school of Communication & Information, Nanyang technological University, singapore. shi Cong is a doctoral student in Bowling Green state University, Usa.MedIa asIa 40(1), pp. 73–84

Job satisfaction is one of the most popular topics in organisational behaviour research, as it

affects organisational productivity and job commitment. This study examines various factors

contributing to the job satisfaction of journalists by contextualising the research in the unique

Singapore environment, where the news media, as state-protected monopolies, provide

journalists with job security and good monetary rewards. Singapore’s news media clearly

deviate from the liberal norms in terms of the legal framework within which they operate,

yet the Singapore journalists compete well against professionals from other countries for

international awards for editorial excellence. The newsroom culture ensures that the local

journalists see themselves as supporters rather than adversaries of the government but at

the same time require them to question the government about its policies and decisions.

Singapore thus serves as an interesting context to test various factors that may contribute

to journalists’ satisfaction with their job. Through a survey of 447 Singapore journalists, this

study examines various factors that may affect the job satisfaction of journalists, including

individual characteristics, job rewards, newsroom culture, perceived role of journalism, and

the performance of their news organisations. The findings show that what matters most

to Singapore journalists is how they see their institution perform in informing the public.

Journalists who feel greater autonomy and believe in the adversarial role of the press are more

satisfied with their job as journalists. In the meantime, monetary reward, job security and

demographic differences are not significant factors in determining job satisfaction.

Job satisfaction is one of the most popular topics in organisational behaviour research as it affects organisational productivity and

job commitment. Both scholars and business

managers show interest in understanding factors affecting job satisfaction and the linkage between job satisfaction, organisational productivity and job commitment.

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While job satisfaction is generally under-stood as how people feel about their jobs, it is more than a simple pleasure-displeasure response (Warr, 1998). Rather, job satisfaction is a complex and multifaceted concept. According to Blum and Naylor (1968), job satisfaction is the general attitude of workers based on how they feel about wages, working conditions, control, promotion, social relations in the work, recognition of talent, personal characteristics, and group relations (p. 364). Moreover, job satisfaction, which involves synthesising various attributes of one’s work and work-related experiences, can be affected by one’s own values, ideals and beliefs (Bergen & Weaver, 1988, p. 2). In other words, job satisfaction can be a result of the nature of the job itself, the physi-cal work environment, the incentive and financial reward, the quality of relationship with colleagues and supervisors, one’s adaptation to the organi-sational culture, and opportunity for personal growth within an organisation.

Journalism is a profession where job satis-faction for many depends on the spiritual as well as the material benefits, as it has been described as a noble profession with a public mission that requires high integrity and commitment from its practitioners (Mott, 1962; Weaver & Wilhoit, 1996). Despite the fact that journalists need to be hired by an institution to practise the trade, they do not necessarily place loyalty to the institution above their professional mission. “In theory, the professional man places service above personal gain” (Mott, 1962, p. 863).

Many journalists are idealists who see their job not simply as a means to make a living but also a platform to achieve their own vision for the profes-sion and fulfil their professional obligations to soci-ety. It has been argued that as a universally practised profession, journalism has universal values shared by journalists around the world despite the fact that its actual practice varies from country to country (Hao, 2006). Whether the media environment al-lows journalists to practise such professional values naturally affects their satisfaction with their job.

Although research on job satisfaction among journalists could be traced back to Samuelson’s (1962) study of the migration of newspaper journal-ists to other careers, most early studies on this topic focused on journalists in the United States (e.g. Beam, Dunwoody & Kosicki, 1986; Lee, Sobowale & Cobbey, 1979; Nayman, Mckee & Lattimore, 1977; Olson, 1989; Pastennack & Martin, 1985). More recent studies on the job satisfaction among journalists begin to look at journalists elsewhere or compare journalists from other countries with their counterparts in the United States (Chan, Pan & Lee, 2004; Chang & Massey, 2010; Kodrich & Mellado, 2007; Lo, Wei, Chan & Pan, 2002; Ryan, 2009).

Research on journalists in other countries helps to enrich our understanding of job satisfac-tion among journalists. While most of the factors affecting the job satisfaction of journalists can be found universally, unique factors may be found in different social contexts. For example, Chan, Pan and Lee (2004) found that journalists in China might derive satisfaction from job autonomy like journalists elsewhere but those who prefer party media as ideal news outlets demonstrate higher levels of job satisfaction. This led the author to argue that to understand job satisfaction among journalists, it is important to take into account journalists’ ideal press models, which reflect jour-nalists’ aspirations and possibly determine their career goals and professional identities (p. 265).

This study aims to enrich our understand-ing of job satisfaction of journalists by examining how journalists feel about their jobs in Singapore, where journalism is practised with neither the de-gree of press freedom required by liberal democra-cies nor the kind of control found in authoritarian/communist societies. The safe and secure working environment offered by the state-protected media monopoly allows Singapore journalists to ply their trade with restraints rarely found in countries with such an advanced economy as well as freedom from the deprivation and corruption that plague the profession in many less developed societies (Hao & George, 2012).

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In such a context, how would journalists feel about their job? Would they share the values that affect the job satisfaction of journalists else-where? How do journalists with different profes-sional aspirations and idealistic views of the roles and functions of the news media feel about their job as journalists? The answer to these questions would help us better understand how journalists see journalism as a profession, a public service and an occupation.

Literature ReviewStudies on job satisfaction among journalists started as early as the 1960s (Samuelson, 1962) and became prevalent later when a major decrease in job satisfaction was reported by both trade pub-lications and scholarly works. The exploration of job satisfaction among journalists has revealed a number of factors that contribute to job satisfac-tion among journalists.

Some of these factors relate to the working conditions of journalists, including salary, work-load, job security, relationship with supervisors and colleges, and conflict with family (e.g. John-stone et al., 1972; Reinardy, 2010; Samuelson, 1962; Weaver & Wilhoit, 1986). At the same time, the opportunities offered by journalism to those who are interested in writing, news-gathering and current affairs also make the job satisfying to some journalists (Weaver & Wilhoit, 1986). Bergen and Weaver (1988) argued that the level of job satis-faction varies across organisations of various sizes, and a big difference exists between medium-sized and small- or large-sized newspapers. Other stud-ies (Daniel & Hollifield, 2002; Stamm & Under-wood, 1993) showed that journalists resist changes in organisational policies and structures, which impact their job satisfaction in a negative way. Like in other occupations, journalists’ job satisfaction can be also affected by the perceived status, power and prestige they enjoy (Demers, 1994).

Of greater interest to academics is that past studies have indicated that job satisfaction of jour-nalists is related to their professional aspirations,

which refer to a set of normative ideals and beliefs that members of a profession uphold (Chan, Pan & Lee, 2004). Johnstone, Slawski and Bowman (1976) noted that journalists who upheld the dominant professional value of neutrality tended to be more satisfied with their job. Weaver and Wilhoit (1986) found that journalists who strongly believed in the disseminator role of journalism tended to be more satisfied with their job than those who preferred the adversarial role.

Due to their professional aspirations, journal-ists’ perception of how their work environment facilitates or handicaps them in achieving such aspirations affects their job satisfaction. Bergen and Weaver (1988) found that journalists’ per-ception of how well their organisation had done in informing the public was the strongest predic-tor for job satisfaction. Beam (2006) argued that journalists enjoyed high satisfaction when they felt that their work was valued. Weaver and Wilhoit (1986) noted that journalists’ job satisfaction was also determined by whether their freedom of re-porting would be affected by internal constraints such as the budget and external constraints such as the government, a hostile public and powerful advertisers.

While earlier studies on job satisfaction among journalists focused on journalists in North America, more recent studies also examined jour-nalists in different cultural, social and political settings, such as Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Chile, Hong Kong and Taiwan (Chan, Pan & Lee, 2004; Herscovitz, 2000; Im, 2003; Kodrich & Mel-lado, 2007; Lo, Wei, Chan & Pan, 2002; Massey & Ewart, J. 2007; Pollard, 1995). Most of these studies were descriptive and focused on work-ing conditions as factors affecting job satisfaction among journalists, but there were also studies that focused on the impact of professional aspirations. For example, Chan, Pan and Lee (2004) called for attention to the importance of taking into account journalists’ ideal press model in understanding their job satisfaction. They argued that the ideal press models reflecting the aspirations of journal-

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ists are developed and maintained in specific and concrete contexts. The congruence or incongru-ence between the aspirations and realities deter-mines the job satisfaction among journalists.

The extension of research on job satisfaction among journalists to other parts of the world adds to our knowledge about journalists’ attitude to-wards their job and various motivations that affect their job satisfaction. Of particular importance to our understanding of the job satisfaction among journalists around the world is to what extent is job satisfaction affected by the professional aspira-tions of journalists and the working environment for them to achieve such aspirations. While jour-nalists share many universal values as a profession, their aspirations to uphold such values can be facilitated or handicapped by their working envi-ronment. As a result, to fully understand the rela-tionship between professional aspirations and job satisfaction, we need to study journalists in other parts of the world, especially in countries where journalism is practised under unique conditions.

The Singapore ContextJournalists in Singapore practise their trade in a social context that differs from various typolo-gies of the press. While Singapore lacks the press freedom and civil liberties of liberal democracies, the state has not completely commandeered the media in the style of totalitarian regimes (Hao & George, 2012).

Foreign critics of the Singapore press de-scribe the local press as “lacklustre” and “obeisant mouthpieces of the establishment” (Tan, 1990, p. 1) but the Singapore government justifies its stand against a Western-style free press on the ground of national building and social harmony. The rul-ing People’s Action Party (PAP) argues that the press has no right to obstruct the government’s work through unrestricted freedom because the government is elected by the people and therefore represents citizens’ wishes. “In such a situation, freedom of the press, freedom of the news media, must be subordinate to the overriding needs of

the integrity of Singapore, and to the primacy of purpose of an elected government,” said Lee Kuan Yew (1971), the first prime minister of the Singa-pore republic.

Through legal means, the PAP government took drastic actions against the press by suspend-ing dissenting newspapers and detaining dissent-ing journalists in its early years. Such harsh meas-ures became unnecessary after the government consolidated the press through the Newspaper and Printing Presses Act introduced in 1974. Through the act, the government could name the board of directors of newspaper companies and thus indi-rectly has a say in the appointment of the editorial chiefs of newspapers. In addition, the requirement for newspaper companies to be publicly listed with management shares, which have voting power 200 times of the ordinary share and can be only sold to people approved by the government, ensures that the management of newspaper companies be controlled by people with close ties with the gov-ernment. The Singapore Press Holdings (SPH), which houses all but one newspaper in Singapore, is managed by ex-government officials, who have been deputy prime minister or minister (see Hao, 1995; Hao & George, 2012; George, 2007; Lee & Wilnat, 2009).

Similar to the newspaper industry, the broad-cast industry is monopolised by MediaCorp, which evolved from a state broadcaster. MediaCorp runs all free-to-air television stations in Singapore, in-cluding Channel News Asia, an all-news station, as well as most radio stations and Today, the only newspaper outside of SPH. Like SPH, MediaCorp has also been historically managed by people with strong government links (see Hukill, 1998; Lee & Wilnat, 2009).

The press model and industrial setup make Singapore a unique environment for journalism. It differs from both the Western democracies and the traditional authoritarian/communication soci-eties. Neither do the Singapore journalists enjoy the same amount of freedom as their counterparts in the West nor do they suffer from the outright

77 JOB satIsfaCtION Of JOUrNalIsts

control of the news as their counterparts in the au-thoritarian/communist societies. Singapore jour-nalists, who benefit from the job security and rela-tively good pay provided by media monopolies, do not often face direct news censorship by the gov-ernment. More pressure is felt through interaction with government officials and newsroom opera-tions that restrain journalists in covering certain types of news considered potentially threatening to social harmony and national security (Hao & George, 2012).

Against such a background, it becomes inter-esting to see how Singapore journalists feel about their job. In particular, we want to know what fac-tors have greater influence on journalists’ satisfac-tion with their job. Are those factors related to job conditions or related to professional aspirations more influential on journalists’ satisfaction with their job? Because of the relatively good pay and job security, we do not expect the working con-ditions and the demographical differences among journalists to play a significant role in affecting journalists’ attitude towards their job as in other countries. Rather, we assume that job satisfaction among Singapore journalists is more related to their professional aspirations, their vision for the function of journalism, and their perception of what the public thinks of the performance of the news media.

We did not develop particular hypotheses for the relationship between various demographic vari-ables and the job satisfaction among journalists as we believe demographic variables such as gender, education, income and positions in the newsroom would have less impact on the job satisfaction among the Singapore journalists, whose attitude to-wards their job would be more likely to be affected by how the overall media environment impacts on their pursuit of professional aspirations.

Past research shows that journalists’ percep-tion of their own institution’s performance in in-forming the public directly affects their satisfac-tion with the job (Bergen & Weaver, 1988). There-fore, we proposed the following:

H1 The higher the rating given by journalists to their organisation in informing the public, the more satisfied they will be with their job.

Secondly, previous studies pointed out the link between the autonomy of journalists and their satisfaction with the job. By analysing the data about journalists in various countries, Weaver (1998) concluded that “the proportions of journal-ists perceiving a great deal of freedom are related to the proportions claiming to be very satisfied” (p. 461). Therefore, we hypothesised the following:

H2 The greater autonomy that journalists per-ceive in their work, the more satisfied they will be with their job.

In addition, we examined how journalists who preferred certain roles for the media feel about their jobs. Based on past literature (Chan, Pan & Lee, 2004; Johnstone, Slawski & Bowman, 1976; Weaver & Wilhoit, 1986), we assume that journal-ists who have high aspirations for their profession tend to be idealists who want the media to per-form a social function beyond merely informing the public of what is happening in the world. Such social functions can be understood as an advocate for the public, analyst or interpreter of events and issues, or adversary to powerful institutions in so-ciety. We would like to see if journalists who prefer to see a more active role for the media feel com-fortable to work in the Singapore context, where the government has a strong say in deciding what role media should play in the Singapore society. Past literature shows that journalists from differ-ent countries may disagree about various roles the news media should play (Weaver, 1998) but it is not clear if such disagreements affect their job satisfaction. However, it can be inferred from the study by Chan, Pan and Lee (2006) what journal-ists believe the press should be and whether their aspirations can be supported by the press environ-ment affect their satisfaction with the job. There-fore, we hypothesised the following:

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H3 The higher the importance that journalists place on the popular advocacy role of me-dia, the more satisfied they will be.

H4 The higher the importance that journalists place on the analytical/interpretive role of media, the more satisfied they will be.

H5 The higher the importance that journalists place on the adversarial role of media, the more satisfied they will be.

MethodsThe data for this study came from a survey of jour-nalists working at Singapore Press Holdings (SPH) and MediaCorp, who account for about 95 per-cent of the journalists in Singapore. Singaporean journalists working for foreign media were not included in the survey because they work for or-ganisations with different cultures. We contacted the management of SPH and MediaCorp to obtain their permission to administer the survey to their journalists. While SPH agreed to the request, Me-diaCorp declined.

With the support of the SPH’s management, we distributed the questionnaire to all the jour-nalists working for various newspapers under the company’s umbrella in October 2009. Out of the 930 copies of questionnaire disseminated, we managed to obtain 330 completed responses. As for MediaCorp, we tried to distribute the ques-tionnaire through our personal contacts. We were able to contact about 200 journalists from among the 300-plus journalists working in the company, and received around 100 completed question-naires. After removing incomplete questionnaires, we managed to get a total of 447 respondents, con-sisting of 282 SPH journalists and 87 MediaCorp journalists as well as 78 journalists who did not specify whether they work for SPH or MediaCorp.

Of these 447 journalists, 19 percent held managerial positions such as editor, deputy edi-tor or assistance editor. Slightly more than half of the respondents were female (59%) and married

(53%). Almost two-thirds of the respondents were 40 years old and below, with 36 percent of them being 30 years old or younger. Almost a third of the respondents have worked as a journalist for five years or less (35%) and the mean score for their journalistic experience was 10.8 years. Most of them have at least a Bachelor’s degree (86%). Chinese journalists accounted for 76 percent of the respondents, followed by 10 percent Indians, 8 percent Malays and 2 percent Eurasians. In terms of religious beliefs, 34 percent were Christians, 16 percent were Buddhists and 9 percent were Mus-lims, while 29 percent stated that they held no re-ligious beliefs.

Variables measured‘Journalists’ job satisfaction’ was measured with a single item adopted from the study by Weaver and Wilhoit (1996). Respondents were asked to indi-cate on a 4-point scale, ranging from 1 = ‘very sat-isfied’ to 4 = ‘very dissatisfied’, the extent of their satisfaction with their present job (M = 2.15, SD = .65).

‘Comments from superior’ was measured with a single item from Weaver and Wilhoit (1996) in which respondents were asked to indicate on a 4-point scale (1 = ‘regularly’, 4 = ‘never’) the extent to which they received comments on their work from people who are above them in their organisa-tion (M = 1.96, SD = .71).

‘Comments from news sources’ was measured with a single item from Weaver and Wilhoit (1996) in which the respondents were asked to indicate on a 4-point scale (1 = ‘regularly’, 4 = ‘never’) the extent to which they received reactions or com-ments on their work from news sources (M = 2.25, SD = .89)

‘Comments from readers’ was assessed using a single item from Weaver and Wilhoit (1996) in which the respondents were asked to indicate on a 4-point scale (1 = ‘regularly’, 4 = ‘never’) the extent to which they received reactions or comments on their work from readers, listeners or viewers (M = 2.04, SD = .84).

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‘Autonomy’ was measured using three items adopted from Bergen and Weaver (1988, 1996). The respondents were asked to indicate on a 4-point scale the extent of their freedom in per-forming their work through these questions: ‘How much freedom do you usually have in selecting the stories you work on?’, ‘How much freedom do you usually have in deciding which aspects of a story should be emphasised?’, ‘How much freedom do you usually have in deciding how the stories writ-ten by others will be used in your newspaper or station?’ and ‘If you have a good idea for a subject which you think is important and should be fol-lowed up, how often are you able to get the subject covered?’ Responses to the three questions were averaged to create a composite scale, with lower scores denoting higher levels of autonomy (M = 2.29, SD = .67, Cronbach’s α = .78).

‘Organisation’s success in informing the pub-lic’ was measured by a single item adopted from Bergen and Weaver (1988, 1996). Respondents were asked to indicate on a 5-point scale (1 = ‘outstanding’, 5 = ‘poor’) the extent to which they thought their news organisation had performed in informing the public (M = 2.77, SD = .86).

Respondents were asked to assess the impor-tance of various factors they considered in judg-ing their job as journalists. These items, adopted from Weaver and Wilhoit (1996), included the pay, fringe benefits, editorial policies of the organisa-tion, job security, chance to develop specialty, autonomy, and chance to get ahead in the organi-sation, chance to help people and chance to influ-ence public affairs. Respondents were asked to in-dicate on a 3-point scale (1 = ‘not too important’, 3 = ‘fairly important’, 5 = ‘very important’) the extent of the importance they placed on these factors.

Respondents were asked to indicate how im-portant they thought a number of things were that news media did or tried to do today, ranging from ‘get information to the public quickly’ to ‘set public agenda’ and to ‘provide entertainment and relaxa-tion’. We used the responses of the participants to various statements to create three variables to

indicate the different roles journalists believe that news media should play.

The first role, named ‘popular advocacy’, was created through averaging the responses to four statements, namely ‘get information to the public quickly’, ‘develop intellectual and cultural interests of the public’, ‘give ordinary people a chance to ex-press their views on public affairs’ and ‘motivate ordinary people to get involved in public discus-sion of important issues’ (alpha = .72).

A composite measure of the role ‘adversary’ was created through averaging the response to two statements, ‘be an adversary of public officials by being constantly sceptical of their actions’ and ‘be an adversary of businesses by being constantly sceptical of their actions’ (alpha = .94).

Another composite measure of the role ‘ana-lyst/interpreter’ was created through averaging the responses to two statements, ‘provide analysis and interpretation of complex problems’ and ‘pro-vide analysis and interpretation of international developments’ (alpha= .70).

ResultsOur findings show that, in general, journalists in Singapore are quite happy with their job. Of the 447 respondents, 12.2 percent of them felt very satisfied and 63.4 percent fairly satisfied with their present job, while 21.8 percent were somewhat dissatisfied and 2.6 percent very dissatisfied. In terms of the proportion of journalists who felt very satisfied, Singaporean journalists are not as happy as journalists in North America, Europe and South America, but they are comparable to their Asian counterparts in China, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Korea.1

In order to examine the factors influencing job satisfaction, hierarchical regression analyses were run. We first examined the relationships between various demographic variables and job satisfaction. We did not find any relationship be-tween job satisfaction and gender, age, education or whether the respondents hold a managerial position. Those who have worked as journalists

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longer are less likely to feel satisfied with the job. On the other hand, the better-paid journalists are more likely to be satisfied with their job.

In addition to the demographic variables, we also examined the relationships between job sat-isfaction and various factors that the respondents perceived to be important in judging their job. There were no significant relationships between job satisfaction and the importance of pay, edi-torial policy, job security, specialty development, autonomy, chance of getting ahead, helping peo-ple and the influence on public opinion. The only relationship found was between the importance of fringe benefit and job satisfaction. Because no relationship was found between the importance of pay and job satisfaction among the respond-ents, ‘fringe benefits’ here may have less to do with monetary rewards and more to do with other types of benefits, such as opportunities to travel and to write. Please see Table 1 for the details.

Next, we ran regression analysis to exam-ine relationships between job satisfaction among journalists and comments about their work, per-ception of their work and the perceived roles that they believe media should play. Please see Table 2 for the details.

Journalists are social critics who like to com-ment and criticise, but how do they face criticism and comments on their own work? Would other people’s comments on their work make them feel less satisfied with their own work? Our findings show that comments by superiors do not make our respondents feel dissatisfied with their job. On the contrary, those who receive comments from their superiors on a more regular basis are more likely to feel satisfied with their job. However, comments from their sources and readers do not matter to their satisfaction or dissatisfaction of the job.

An overwhelming majority of the respond-ents found it extremely important (58.6%) or quite important (36.8%) to get information to the public quickly. A small proportion (5.8%) of the respond-ents rated their news organisation’s performance in informing the public as ‘outstanding’ and most

of them rated it as either ‘very good’ (32.8%) or ‘good’ (41.6%). Only a tiny minority (1.4%) rated it as ‘poor’ and the rest (18.5%) rated it at least as ‘fair’. Those who rated their news organisation’s performance in informing the public positively are more likely to find greater satisfaction with their job. Hypothesis 1 is therefore supported.

How autonomous the respondents feel as journalists in Singapore is related to their job sat-isfaction. Journalists who feel more freedom in selecting a subject or a story to work on, decid-ing what aspects of a story to emphasise, and us-

Table 1Important factors in evaluating job and job

satisfactionStandard

coefficientsSig.

Block 1: DemographicsGender .123 .051

Age .099 .406

Education .000 .992

Years as journalist .284 .036

Position (journalist vs. editor)

–.039 .568

Income –.254 .009

R2 .047

Block 2 factors perceived to be importantPay .081 .222

Fringe benefit –.190 .005

Editorial policy .087 .185

Job security –.046 .466

Specialty development

–.037 .513

Autonomy .067 .313

Getting ahead –.116 .074

Helping people –.024 .761

Influencing public opinion

.059 .447

R2 .110

81 JOB satIsfaCtION Of JOUrNalIsts

ing other people’s stories tend to be more satisfied with their job, supporting Hypothesis 2.

As for the media’s role, the perception of the media as an advocate for the public and an analyst/interpreter of news events does not affect their job satisfaction. However, the perception of media as adversaries against public officials and businesses is related to how they feel about their job as jour-

nalists. Those who believe that the news media should act as adversaries of public officials and businesses and be sceptical of their actions are more likely to feel satisfied with their job as jour-nalists. Hypotheses 3 and 4 are thus rejected while Hypothesis 5 is retained.

It should be noted that when more factors were controlled in this regression model, demo-graphic factors all ceased to be significant. Experi-ence as journalists and pay, which used to be sig-nificant factors in the previous regression model, are no longer significant when more factors are taken into consideration. This indicates that job satisfaction may correlate with work experience and income, but length of work and income are unlikely to be the real causes for job satisfaction or dissatisfaction among Singaporean journalists.

Discussion and ConclusionDespite strong criticism of the Singapore press by Western critics, news media in Singapore have no difficulty in finding people who aspire to be jour-nalists. The majority of the journalists (63%) who responded to our survey chose journalism because of personal interest in and passion for journalism. Only a minority of them (11%) chose journalism simply because it provides them with a job or they were attracted by the scholarship offered by the news media.

For Singapore journalists, job security, mon-etary reward, promotion and other materialistic incentives do not seem to really affect how they feel about the job. This could be partly attributed to the fact that in Singapore, the journalistic job provides good materialistic incentives for journal-ists or at least there is no lack of them for journal-ists to feel dissatisfied with the job. Unlike journal-ists in some countries where financial situations of the media companies make journalists concerned about their pay and job security (Weaver, 1998), the media monopolies in Singapore have provided journalists with relatively good pay and job secu-rity to make such factors non-significant for job satisfaction.

Table 2Factors influencing job satisfaction among

Singaporean journalistsStandard

coefficientsSig.

Block 1: Demographics

Gender .016 .812

Age .117 .399

Education .012 .863

Years as journalist .130 .396

Position (journalist vs editor)

.043 .598

Income –.171 .114

R2 .056

Block 2: Comments about their work

Comments from superiors

.242 .001

Comments from sources –.144 .125

Comments from readers .108 .291

R2 .133

Block 3: Perception of work Job in informing the public

.304 .000

Autonomy .214 .008

R2 .245

Block 4: Perceived media rolePopular advocacy –.025 .746

Adversary –.225 .005

Analyst/interpreter .007 .925

R2 .287

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What is of interest to us is whether the per-ception of autonomy affects how journalists in Singapore feel about their job. There is no denying that journalists in Singapore do not enjoy as much freedom as their counterparts in liberal democ-racies. In the Freedom of the Press 2010 Survey conducted by Freedom House (2010), the Singa-pore press was rated ‘not free’ and ranked only 32nd among 40 Asia-Pacific countries. In the meantime, autonomy is highly valued by our respondents, the major of whom believe that autonomy is either ‘very important’ (51%) or ‘fairly important’ (43%) in judging their job.

Our findings about the relationship between the autonomy perceived by journalists in their work and their satisfaction with the job shows that the lack of autonomy may not dampen jour-nalists’ liking of their job. What matters is how much autonomy they perceive to have. The more autonomous our respondents feel in their work, the greater satisfaction they find with their job, like journalists elsewhere (Weaver, 1998). This corresponds with what have been found among journalists in China, who work in a more restraint press environment (Chan, Pan & Lee, 2004). What is more, those who believe autonomy is important in judging their job do not necessarily feel more frustrated with their job than those who care less about autonomy as a factor in assessing the job. This seems to tell us that although journalists in Singapore also value the importance of autonomy in their work, their perceived autonomy in work is not in total incongruence with their expectation of autonomy in work and therefore does not lead to their dissatisfaction with their job.

Like journalists elsewhere, Singapore journal-ists have a strong sense of their public mission. The overwhelming majority of the respondents find it extremely or very important for the news media to get information to the pubic quickly. Moreover, they believe their own organisations are doing a good job informing the public. About 80 percent of the respondents believe their organi-sations are doing an ‘outstanding’, ‘very good’ or

‘good’ job in informing the public. Those who rate their organisations more favourably tend to get greater satisfaction from their job. This shows that professional aspirations carry more weight than job conditions on job satisfaction among Singapo-rean journalists.

In Singapore, journalists are reminded by the government to support its efforts in nation build-ing. Speaking to the American Society of Newspa-per Editors in 1988, Lee Kuan Yew made it clear that the Singapore press is not allowed “to assume a role in Singapore that the American media play to America, that of invigilator, adversary and in-quisitor of the administration” (Lee, 1988). This, however, does not stop many Singapore journal-ists from seeing an important role for them to be an adversary to both public officials and business-es by being sceptical of their actions, especially among those who have less work experience as journalists.

An interesting finding is that journalists who believe it is important for the press to be an ad-versary of public officials and businesses actually are more likely to be satisfied rather than dissat-isfied with their job as a journalist in Singapore. Despite the fact the Singapore does not provide an environment to practise an adversary press, the aspiration for many journalists to take an adver-sarial stand against public officials and businesses obviously has not resulted in their frustration with the job. On the contrary, those who endorse an adversarial stand are more likely to find greater satisfaction with the job. This certainly cannot be understood as evidence that the Singapore con-text provides enough room for these journalists to practise adversary journalism and therefore makes them find the job more satisfying. A more plausible explanation would be that despite the limitations, journalism in Singapore nevertheless provides space for journalists to question public officials and businesses. While the space is not as much as in countries where the press is seen as a watchdog monitoring the government activities, it does allow Singapore journalists who prefer an

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adversary stand enough room to fulfil their aspi-rations. Another possible explanation is that no matter how journalism is practised in different countries, the nature of the job always allows jour-nalists to question, to challenge and to investigate. That alone makes journalists who like to challenge power feel gratified.

The overall findings of this study show that despite the uniqueness of the Singapore press en-vironment, journalists in Singapore share similar aspirations with journalists in other countries. There is no denying that the Singapore journalists face more restraint in press freedom than journal-ists in Western countries but journalism is never-theless a gratifying profession for people who are motivated for and interested in the job. With good monetary incentives and job security provided by the media monopolies, job satisfaction for Singa-pore journalists is more likely to derive from their perceived achievement of professional aspirations. Those who believe that their news organisation is performing a good function in informing the pub-lic, and they can exercise autonomy in their work and check on powerful institutions in society, are more likely to find their job gratifying.

Note1. For comparative data about journalists in these

regions, please see article by Weaver’s (1998, p. 462)

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mediaasia RESEARCH

Environmental communication in India: Lessons from OrissaMaitReyee MiShRa

Maitreyee Mishra is assistant Professor in the Institute of Communication, Manipal University, India.MedIa asIa 40(1): 85–95

This paper1 takes a philosophical approach in exploring communication on environmental

change, and through existing research and case studies, looks at environmental communication

in the Indian paradox: an ancient philosophy that respects nature, and a modern nation that has

shunned the natural world for development. The paper looks at the mass media, perceptions

of nature and environmentalism in traditional thought, while drawing from examples in the

eastern Indian state of Orissa, where the role of communication is more complex provided

the dichotomous relationship between Orissa’s fragile ecology and an adamant political

environment.

A great deal has changed since the begin-ning of the environmental movement. People all over the world are now ques-

tioning the dominant paradigm enshrined in the pro-development philosophy of the West. More has changed since the post-liberalisation era—with political ideologies vested in increased pri-vatisation and private investment. In this impas-sive philosophy, there is no space for the world of nature. As the human race expands, so does the scramble for space. The cycle of increased pro-duction and consumption, propelled by advertise-ments, has not only meant that we are using more of the Earth’s resources than we need but it also means that the real producer—our Earth—is re-duced to just a commodity.

In a fast-changing world where often the rights of the natural world and of animals and hu-man beings dependent on it are trampled upon, communication can play an important role in con-

veying the needs of the natural world, providing a channel for expression, discussion and action.

As bulldozers of industrialisation continue to move in to replace indigenous peoples from their homes bound by nature, many are resist-ing change. Grassroots movements against envi-ronmental change are showing us that the Earth comes before material benefits that ‘development’ can offer. Not only have perceptions of indigenous people changed now from destroyer to protec-tor of the environment (Mishra, 2013) but many movements have also been started by these com-munities and groups against development and destruction of their ancestral lands. These groups have risen against displacement and dislocation in both physical and spiritual forms, from the lands they have inherited and inhabited for generations. All these movements have raised fundamental questions on modern connectivity with the Earth. Are we growing more and more disconnected

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from the Earth? Can we sustain the future?Many peoples’ movements for environmen-

tal justice have made their voices heard, created networks and affected policy processes. The mass media are at the heart of this struggle against en-vironmental change—they inform, they educate, they affect perceptions and understanding of both the natural world, and of our relationship with it.

This paper takes a conceptual-philosophical approach to explore communication on envi-ronmental change, and through the use of exist-ing literature, research and case studies, explores the role of environmental communication in the paradox that creates India—an ancient philosophy that respects and understands nature, and a mod-ern India that has shunned the natural world for growth and ‘development’. The paper draws par-ticularly from the example of the eastern Indian state of Orissa (Odisha), where the role of commu-nication is more complex provided the dichoto-mous relationship between Orissa’s fragile ecology and an adamant political environment.

Environmental Communication: An OverviewEnvironmental communication can be traced to folklore, where communities in the global ‘south’—indigenous groups that include the Native Ameri-cans, the Africans, the Indians and the Chinese—communicated with their people about the Earth. This can be seen in folk culture and traditions that teach the young about environmental values, cre-ating their perceptions and understanding of the natural world, and of the Earth as ‘Mother’.

Cox (2006), compared Kenneth Burkes’ ‘sym-bolic action’ to the Shannon-Weaver model, stat-ing that unlike the latter’s model of communica-tion “symbolic action assumes that language and symbols do more than transmit information: they actively shape our understanding, create mean-ing and orient us to a wider world” (p. 12). Cox (2006) defined environmental communication as “the pragmatic and constitutive vehicle for our understanding of the environment as well as our

relationship to the natural world; it is the symbolic medium that we use in constructing environmen-tal problems and negotiating society’s different re-sponses to them” (p. 12). For Cox (2006), environ-mental communication educates, persuades and helps in the solving of environmental problems, and this communication inherently also is consti-tutive, thereby helping to compose “representa-tions [and perceptions] of nature”.

Another book that explores environmental communication is Communicating Nature: how we create and understand environmental messages by Julia B. Corbett (2006), who defines environ-mental communication as:

Expressed in values, words, actions and everyday practices; individually inter-preted and negotiated; historically and culturally rooted; ideologically derived and driven; embedded in a dominant so-cietal paradigm that assigns instrumental values to the environment and believes it exists to serve humans; intricately tied to pop culture, particularly advertising and entertainment; framed and reported by the media in a way that generally sup-ports the status quo; mediated and influ-enced by social institutions like govern-ments and business (p. 8).

According to Jurin, Roush and Danter (2010), environmental communication is “the systematic generation and exchange of humans’ messages in, from, for, and about the world around us and our interactions in it” (p. 15).

Environmental communication hence consti-tutes all the ways in which we communicate about our natural world; it helps shape our perceptions of the natural world and of our relationship to the Earth; it is persuasive and educative. Environ-mental communication also is ‘culturally rooted’, shaped by cultures, authority and is interpreted individually.

The shaping of environmental ideologyIn Lynn White, Jr.’s (1967) article, ‘The historical roots of our ecological crisis’, White traced the his-

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tory of the Western attitude towards nature to the teachings of Christianity, which he stated “espe-cially in its Western form … is the most anthro-pocentric religion the world has seen”. For him, by “destroying pagan animism, Christianity made it possible to exploit nature in a mood of indiffer-ence to the feelings of natural objects”.

White can be said to have triggered some of the initial discussions on religion and perception of nature, and hence leading to discourses on en-vironmental ethics. As he argued, the way nature was perceived by most non-Western cultures (Zen Buddhism) was “very nearly the mirror image of the Christian view”. Corbett (2006) provides a per-spective of early European settlers who “believed it was their Christian duty to impose, control, civilise, tame, subdue, and in essence, denature nature” (p. 23), a view that can be said to be just the opposite of the Native Americans perceptions of nature and the relationship of humans to na-ture. Chief Seattle, of the Duwamish tribe, in his famous speech, said: “We are part of the Earth and the Earth is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters; the reindeer, the horse, the great ea-gle—these are our brothers” (cited in Kerry Ward, 2009, p. 36).

To the Native Americans, as can be seen from this speech, humans formed a part of nature, and were not superior to it—all living things were in-terconnected, forming a fraternity, a unity. Chief Seattle foretells the future of the ‘White Man’: If he “treats his mother the Earth and his brother the sky as things to be bought”, a time will come when man’s “appetite will devour the Earth and leave be-hind only a desert” (cited in Kerry-Ward, 2009, p. 36).

Other philosophical bases, including those of Shintoism, Buddhism and Hinduism, underline a similar understanding of the connectedness of all living beings. The Vedic concept of Vasudeva Kutumbakam, for example, entails that all living beings are part of one large family, protected and overseen by Mother Earth, who in turn provides, sustains and punishes (when required, through

natural disasters) (Dwivedi, 2003). The underlin-ing principle behind this concept is the valuing of the Earth as one’s own mother, “as one ought not to insult, unduly exploit, and violate one’s mother, but be kind and respectful to her, [similarly] one should behave toward Mother Earth” (Dwivedi, 2003). These philosophical concepts provide a rich background to the basis of Hindu, Buddhist and Jain thought in which unity in pluralism is central.

The Jain principle of Asteya stresses on distin-guishing between need and greed, and if one takes “more from nature than meets [one’s] essential need, [one is] stealing from nature…clearing an entire forest would be seen as violation of nature’s rights and as theft” (Kumar, 2006). The Earth’s ex-ploitation for selfish reasons is hence considered “unjust and sacrilegious” (Dwivedi, 2003). The necessity of (wo)man living in harmony with the Earth and using as much as is required is stressed upon. Nature takes a usual feminine form and was seen as ‘mother’, giving and sustaining life. All life therefore, as all living beings are connected, de-serves respect—all beings possess a soul. The lim-its of human habitation were also structured on the basis of this relationship, where space was di-vided between all living beings, including humans.

Vandana Shiva (1993) traces the origins of the environmental crisis to “the mistaken belief that human beings are not part of the democracy of na-ture’s life, that they stand apart from and above na-ture” (p. 265). Much has been discussed about the role of religion in shaping perceptions of the Earth, of nature and of human relationship to other living beings. White’s supposition, as mentioned earlier, targets the notion of anthropocentrism, in which humans are considered supreme beings. In this view, nature exists only to serve humans.

Today, human population expansion and ur-banisation has meant the encroaching of these eco-logical spaces devised by traditional thought, and has also led to decreased communication between humans and their Earth, and with their children and grandchildren. Most countries around the world with the adoption of Western models of de-

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velopment have also assimilated Western notions of nature and perceptions of our relationship to the environment. Fewer children grow up within a natural setting as more and more families move to cities; even fewer experience an untouched natural system. For children in the cities, parks, which simulate nature, provide the only ‘natural’ setting. Corbett (2006) argues that childhood ex-periences with nature influence the formation of ideology. She observes that in the US, “there has been a very real decline in children’s direct experi-ences, especially with healthy and abundant sys-tems”. She highlights the role of experiences with nature for a child because this experience is “like baggage a child carries that helps shape the pre-sent and future” (p. 15). The need for environmen-tal communication in the post-modern era would mean revisiting the connection that people once had with the Earth. Therefore that environmental communication needs to include communication with the environment.

The media and environment: Environmental journalism and cinema as persuasionThe mass media play a large role in shaping our perceptions of the natural environment and affect-ing our attitudes and actions. As Cox (2006) states, ‘mainstream media’ and ‘entertainment media’ are the most important sources of information on the environment. Cox (2006) observes that “few main-stream media have the space to document less dramatic problems, such as loss of biodiversity or the impacts of new synthetic chemicals”. Instead they more frequently cover specific events as op-posed to ‘longer-term developments’ (Wilkins and Patterson, 1990 cited in Cox, 2006; Anderson, 1997). On television, importance is given to envi-ronmental stories with greater ‘visual quality’ (An-derson, 1997).

Let us now take a look at environmental journalism, which plays a large role in providing information, and in educating and persuading au-diences to act on environmental issues. There are several environmental magazines, which include

National Geographic, The Ecologist and Mother Earth News. Many newspapers have a section on the environment—The Guardian, The Independ-ent, The Times and New York Times (in NYT en-vironment is covered under Science). Alternative media, especially online news websites, have been sprouting and there is a plethora of options and voices. Cox (2006) observes that the widest ac-cess to environmental information and news is provided by the online media. Examples of online environmental news providers include the Envi-ronmental News Network (enn.com); Grist (grist.org); and Environmental News Service (www.ens-newswire.com). All of the magazines and newspa-pers mentioned above also have an online edition and do provide environmental news.

In India Down to Earth remains the most im-portant magazine on environmental issues. Some newspapers like The Times of India and The Hindu have an environmental section (in The Hindu it is covered under Science and Technology). Most newspapers cover environmental news though coverage rests mostly on events and occurrences. Indian environmental news websites include the portal of The Centre for Science and Environment (cse.org) and India Environmental Portal (indiaen-vironmentalportal.org.in).

The medium of film, through both fiction and documentaries, has been used to explore environ-mentalism and affect perception of the natural environment. Though there are many documen-taries on environmental issues, some recent ones would include ‘An Inconvenient Truth’ (2006), ‘The 11th Hour’ (2007) and ‘Age of Stupid’ (2009). Cinema informs, educates and persuades audienc-es indirectly through its imagery, themes, symbol-ism, metaphors and allegory—all used to weave a narrative that engages and moves the audience to think, rethink and, in some cases, act. There are many examples of such films; some noteworthy features would include the 1988 Canadian film ‘The Man Who Planted Trees’ and the critically acclaimed Studio Ghibli animated films by Japa-nese directors Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata

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(‘Princess Mononoke’ in 1997; ‘Laputa: Castle in the Sky’ in 1986; ‘Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind’ in 1984, ‘Pom Poko’ in 1994, and the 2001 film ‘Spirited Away‘. Other environmentally con-scious films include Disney’s ‘Brother Bear’ (2003) and ‘Pocahontas’ (1995), Pixar’s ‘Wall-e’ (2008), Jimmy T. Murakami’s 1986 animated feature, ‘When the Wind Blows’ and James Cameron’s 2009 film ‘Avatar’.

In the Disney animated feature ‘Pocahontas’, a song sequence explores the contrast between Native American and Western perceptions of the Earth. The movie’s namesake, the Native Ameri-can tribal chief ’s daughter Pocahontas tells John Smith, an English explorer who has landed in the New World: “You think you own whatever land you land on/ the Earth is just a dead thing you can claim/ But I know every rock and tree and crea-ture/ Has a life, has a spirit, has a name.”

In India, many documentaries have been made on environmental issues, some have been on conservation such as the documentaries of Valmik Thapar and Mike Pandey; some others have ex-plored specific events such as pollution of a river or a lake. Other filmmakers have focused on com-munity uprisings and environmental movements (such as ‘Buddha Weeps in Jadugoda’ and ‘Chali-yar, The Final Struggle’). However, few of these are widely available to audiences.

Indian cinema, particularly Bollywood, at-tracts large audiences. However, it is hard to point out a mainstream film that runs purely on an en-vironmental theme. Other non-Bollywood cin-ematic traditions have occasionally provided rich environmental narratives. Satyajit Ray’s ‘Pather Panchali’ (1955) explores nature subtly, through the traditional narrative of birth, death and re-birth. In Girish Karnad’s film, ‘Cheluvi’ (1992) the human condition transcends allegorically to explain the systematic destruction of nature. The film’s protagonist’s transformation into a tree and her subsequent suffering symbolises nature’s si-lent destruction. In Girish Kasaravalli’s ‘Dweepa’ (2003), rich in visual metaphor, the destruction of

natural spaces now controlled by modernisation, leads to spiritual and physical deterioration of those not ready to let go of their connection with the environment.

Orissa: Development and Environment ChangeIndia, having succumbed to neo-liberal philoso-phy, witnesses a number of complex environmen-tal debates. Should industries be set up provided the environmental repercussions? Should we use nuclear power? What should we do with all the plastic, e-waste, non-biodegradable waste that is now piling up? What do we do with chemical inputs in agriculture? What about the people dis-placed from their homes due to an environmental crisis? How do we handle an environmental cri-sis? India’s ‘modernisation’ has meant a change of perception in the relationship of humans with our environment. This, as will be discussed, is also the case with Orissa. This section first looks at the conflict between Orissa’s environment and its development needs, and then proceeds to discuss environmentalism and the perception of nature in Oriya traditions and thought.

Orissa, one of the poorest states in India with a per capita net state domestic product that is 24 percent below the national average (Reserve Bank of India, 2010) is also one of the country’s most ecologically sensitive regions, frequented by droughts, floods and other calamities. The last few decades have seen drastic changes in the state’s cli-mate and environment, with rising temperatures, widespread deforestation, coastal erosion and agricultural decline, among other environmental problems. In 1999 the highly destructive ‘super cy-clone ’ that lasted three days, swept across coastal Orissa and caused the deaths of over 15,000 peo-ple. It also caused the destruction of entire villages and uprooted thousands of trees. Since then, the state has seen alternating floods and droughts. Floods in August 2010 affected 85,000 people, mostly in southern Orissa (Outlook India, 2010).

Despite Orissa’s fragile environment, the neo-

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liberal reforms of the 1990s saw the government’s focus shifting to rapid industrialisation through mineral resource extraction, leading to the open-ing of Orissa’s rich natural resources (the state contains more than half of India’s bauxite reserves) to exploitation by both national and international industrial houses. Some of these include the UK’s Vedanta Resources Ltd, the South Korean Pohang Steel and Iron Company (Posco), India’s Tata and Jindal. The Orissa government has signed 43 memoranda of understandings (MoUs) with sev-eral of these industrial houses (Amnesty USA, 2007, & Pandey, 2008, cited in Mishra, 2013). SomeSo of them have already started their opera-tions, which have in turn resulted in the displace-ment of indigenous people from their traditional homes located in mineral-rich areas of the state. Furthermore, this has also led to the contamina-tion of water bodies, deforestation and innumer-able ecological destruction of these areas. Though the Orissa government recognises the state of Orissa’s environment and the imminent crises, environmental needs and concerns have been pushed aside for larger development goals. The government of Orissa’s (2010) Climate Change Action Plan dichotomises the present policies of industrialisation and impacts on the environment, deducing that growth is more important than cli-mate change and environmental concerns.

Orissa is at the heart of the crisis, being one of the poorest states and desiring to compete with other states and to improve its infrastructure and quality of life. Yet the state has had to face an array of environmental disasters, most of which affect the poor. Orissa had been a predominantly rural state until recent times. Rural-urban migration is a recent phenomenon and most Oriya people—though now city dwellers—could still have a rural home somewhere.

Environmentalism in Oriya traditionsVillage life (which itself is no longer highly es-teemed) induced a constant natural interaction with one’s environment; there was familiarity

and understanding of ways of nature, and an in-nate respect for the Earth. This is evident from Orissa’s own folklore, its Hindu traditions and philosophical outlook. Orissa’s tribal people also possess strong notions of connectivity with the Earth, viewing rivers, trees and mountains as part of one’s own family. During the three-day annual Oriya Hindu festival of Raja, the Earth is believed to be menstruating and therefore she must be treated with care. Young girls, assuming a symbol-ic unison with Mother Earth, are at the heart of the festival, and are not allowed to do any household work and instead play on dolis (swings). During these three days the “tilling of the Earth by farm-ers for agriculture” is not allowed (Pattnaik, 2008). The festival marks the fertility of the Earth and this is when the monsoons start. Pattnaik (2008) believes that the festival reflects ‘the spirit of sci-entific environmentalism’.

Other Oriya traditions also reflect similar traits of environmentalism. It is also in this very tradition that leaves are not to be plucked in the night, believing the plants to be asleep. During the holy months of Kartika (October and November), the Oriyas, who love eating fish, refrain from fish-eating, as these months mark the fish-breeding pe-riod (Pattnaik, 2008). Although the festival of Raja is still celebrated, the physical and perhaps (spiritual) distance from the village has changed the nature of the festival. In villages traditional swings used to be placed for the children (specifically girls) to play with; in the cities, with smaller bearings and hardly any garden or trees to accommodate the large swings, the significance of this environmen-tally-conscious festival is somewhat negated. Hu-man interaction with the Earth is, as seen above, considered symbiotic in Oriya folklore— trees, riv-ers, plants and other animals were respected and cared for. In Orissa, as in other parts of the develop-ing world, the migration of people from the villages to the cities has also meant a symbolic disconnec-tion with the Earth. This interaction with the Earth is being eroded and most people are being cut off from their rural connection.

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Environmental communication in OrissaOrissa has a considerable media presence with several newspapers, television and radio channels, and a history of cinema dating back to 1936. The mass media of the state have been largely echoing views on industrialisation and private investment, as laid out by the state government (Mishra, 2013). There has been widespread support of industrial activities in ecologically fragile areas. Mishra’s (2008) study of the media in Orissa for the cov-erage of agricultural and environmental news and features showed that environment-related stories were rare and hardly made it to the front page. Studies conducted on Oriya and English dailies, television and radio programmes showed a lack of media interest in environmental reporting and also pointed towards a dependency on govern-ment sources of information on environmental concerns (Mishra, 2008). Most coverage would be related to general issues around global warm-ing or climate change, with a focus on information from experts. She also observed that “most cover-age [was] limited to scientific expertise, extension, agricultural policy information and innovations”, demonstrating a rather top-down approach to in-formation on environmental issues.

This may be due to two reasons: a lack of in-terest and a lack of knowledge of environmental issues. Newspapers in the state do not generally have a section on environment, so environmental stories are issue- or event-dependent. Further-more, alternative sources of information are not usually sought out. According to Anderson (1997), official sources “enjoy advantaged access to the media and become ‘primary definers’ of the issue in question”, a point that can also be extended to Orissa.

In 2009, as part of a road-widening project, hundreds of large trees were uprooted in many parts of Bhubaneswar, the state capital. The story was not covered by the media for several months, showing a disregard for issues that do not appear to be dramatic in nature. Furthermore, there was little desire to question what was happening. Peo-

ple the author spoke to were dissatisfied and sad-dened by the uprooting of the trees that they had ‘grown up’ seeing.

People’s voices and movements in Orissa: Cases and discoursesThe communication of ecological change has been seen in peoples’ movements across Orissa, where communities, particularly tribal peoples affected by development activities, are voicing their dis-satisfaction. Two cases of peoples’ movements are discussed here: Niyamgiri-Vedanta and Jagatsin-ghpur-Posco.

The UK-based Vedanta Resources signed a memorandum of understanding (MoU) in 2003 with the government of Orissa to construct an alumina refinery and coal thermal plant at Lan-jigarh in Orissa’s Kalahandi district. Though the alumina refinery was eventually built at Lanjigarh, at the foot of the Niyamgiri hills, Vedanta wanted to set up an open-cast mine in the hills by blast-ing the mountain’s top. Fearing the destruction of the hills that they considered their gods, the Don-gria Kondh tribe opposed the company, blocking roads (Mishra, 2013). In October 2010, following years of local, national and international agitation against Vedanta’s activities, the government of In-dia blocked Vedanta’s plans of expanding the alu-mina refinery, stating that the company had vio-lated the Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) notification.

Similarly, in 2005, the Orissa government signed an MoU with the South Korean iron and steel company Posco to construct a steel mill at Paradip in Orissa’s Jagatsinghpur district. As the project was to displace close to 2,000 people, vil-lagers feared losing their livelihoods and for “the last seven years the people from three gram pan-chayats (village-level governments) have been protesting against what they deem an ‘illegal oc-cupation’ of their lands” (Mishra, 2013). A people’s organisation, Posco Pratirodh Sangram Samiti (PPSS), was formed in 2005 to protest against the project. After various appeals and halting of the

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project due to the NC Saxena Committee report2 by the central government, the project is now underway after an environmental clearance was given by the Ministry of Environment and Forests (MoEF). Protests by the villagers and PPSS have continued.

Mishra (2013) observes some positive traits from recent people’s environmental movements, where “unlike the 1950s and 1960s where minority interests were not publicised and were ignored to make way for larger national development goals, the last two decades have seen a shift in both awareness and empowerment of marginalised communities”. The Niyamgiri-Vedanta case drew a lot of media and international attention, with “building of grassroots, local, national and inter-national networks; advocacy by activist organisa-tions, and perhaps also leading to an appreciation and greater understanding of the environment and of the customs and traditions of the Dongria Kondh” (Mishra, 2013).

Mishra (2013) observes that in general the mass media “though somewhat receptive to the needs of these communities have not been rep-resentative of these counter-development argu-ments”. The Niyamgiri-Vedanta issue saw emerg-ing horizontal communication models through alternative media coverage (public discussions) particularly over the Internet.

Similar use of the Internet, including the use of social networking websites by the Posco Prati-rodh Sangram Samiti, was also seen. Policy in-formation and citizen’s rights are available on the Internet for people wishing to use this information towards achieving environmental justice (Mishra, 2013).

The coverage given to the Niyamgiri conflict in the mainstream media, in alternative media and through advocacy groups is quite interest-ing. The Niyamgiri case saw the use of the visual medium through a documentary titled ‘Mine: The Story of a Sacred Mountain’, made by Survival In-ternational, on the ways of living of the Dongria Kondh tribe. The documentary, which was highly

positive, focused on the self-sufficiency of the tribe, the threat of Vedanta’s plant and also on the tribe’s resolve to ensure that Vedanta leaves their ancestral lands. Other communities’ movements, particularly against government-backed mining and industrial projects such as the ones in Jagat-singhpur (Posco) and Kalinganagar (Tata), did not receive the international support that Niyamgiri received (Mishra, 2013).

Whether it was content on the Internet (blogs) or documentaries (available online) or reports re-leased by Amnesty International, the narrative was bent on the spirituality of the Dongria Kondh, their unique culture, their connection to the Earth and dependence on it. The Dongria Kondh, through this narrative and these discourses, became a met-aphor for the natural world, fighting against the rape of the environment. Some photographs are available online and one can always see a colour-ful, gleeful young man or woman in these pictures. The general international coverage of the Niyam-giri issue was positive, where the Dongria Kondh’s struggles were highlighted; their self-sufficiency, dependency and resolve to protect their revered mountain are discussed; their struggles were said to be representative of similar indigenous peoples’ struggles. They were perceived as ‘pure’ and ‘un-touched’, unaffected by modern society, and mod-ernisation (in the form of Vedanta) was gnashing itself at this people. A few online discourses by Survival International drew parallels between the Na’vi tribe in the James Cameron film, Avatar, to the Dongria Kondh. ‘Avatar’ is an allegory for colo-nisation, and the RDA corporation in the film was a fitting comparison to Vedanta.

The tribal movement itself led to blockades of their sacred hills, the tribe’s symbolic gatherings on the top of the hill and ritualistic singing. Some of these traditions were mentioned in newspapers, both national and international. Grassroots or-ganisations such as Friends Association for Rural Reconstruction (FARR), which helped the Dongria Kondh understand their rights and channel their struggles, probably laid the foundation for the

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networks that formed at the local, national and in-ternational levels. Survival International, Amnesty International and other organisations, as well as celebrities, stepped in to support the tribe. As a result, the mainstream media, too, found greater cause to cover the culture, spirituality and envi-ronmental unity of this tribal group. International newspapers and media also moved in to cover the story by travelling to the Niyamgiri hills. Thus, through this coverage, through public outcry and advocacy provided by organisations such as the ones mentioned above, an international public opinion was shaped. Information was available on the Dongria Kondh, and people all over supported the tribe.

A trend of negative environmentalismThe following trends can be seen from the analysis of media and patterns of communication in Orissa:1. Authority bias: Media dependency on an ‘au-

thority’ for sole source of information, lead-ing to audience perception based on author-ity. This authority includes state institutions and research organisations, hospitals and doctors, multinational corporations and also a heavy dependency and positive perception of information from the so-called West in the media.

2. Local is not ‘in’: For mainstream media, in-digenous and local has never solely been a source of reliable information. There is a lack of informational pluralism. Struggles of ‘lo-cal’ people are perceived through the glass of modernism and development, and therefore creation of news is based on this.

3. Natural environment as commodity: There is now a widespread representation of the natu-ral environment as commodity. This is con-strued and perceived as thus due to excessive commercialism.

4. Media are unquestioning: The media are generally receptive to representations of the environment as in perceived by the status quo. This leads to an unquestioning attitude,

particularly in the case of the environment and environmental struggles.Communication on the environment un-

doubtedly has the power to affect public opinion; the media in Orissa have to move beyond conserv-ative boundaries and perhaps even revisit Orissa’s traditional wisdom.

Conclusion: The Future of Environmental Journalism and CommunicationIt is certain that the environmental crisis needs to be disentangled quickly. Maria Mies (1993) in her chapter “Who made nature our enemy?” la-ments, “We cannot touch nature, we cannot com-municate with nature as living natural creatures; an invisible barrier separates us.” Eastern cultures did not believe that the Earth was a silent specta-tor, and therefore needed our voices to communi-cate her pain. Indeed, for most of these cultures, the Earth gave and sustained life and took when required; the Earth’s wrath was real. Perhaps the Earth has been communicating to us through her anger (as the Hindus would believe), through all the natural disasters that we have witnessed. Na-ture is perhaps, after all, not silent.

This paper attempted to look at environmen-tal communication through an analysis of percep-tions of nature found in religion, traditional prac-tices, drawing largely from examples of Orissa, where a strong tradition of environmentalism exists in folklore that has shaped individual and community outlook towards nature. This tradi-tional environmentalism, however, is contrasted to present political ideologies and paradigms, which are instead vested in quick industrialisation through mineral resource extraction.

The conflict between traditional environ-mental thought and persistent attitudes of devel-opment has resulted in many people’s movements, particularly in tribal areas. Those who support de-velopment are not from these areas, and not being from there, they cannot fully empathise with the Earth—they have perhaps grown hard. People’s voices towards environmental justice have been

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communicated through the networks that have been built, through grassroots, local and interna-tional advocacy organisations; the Internet and sometimes mainstream media. Communication about the Earth, in all the ways possible, can help create perceptions of nature; induce action and bring the essential questions about where humans are placed in the planet to the public forum. Voices are definitely calling out for environmental jus-tice—through this communication we are able to experience and feel for people we have never met.

The role of environmental communication is also to communicate with the Earth, by under-standing and caring, through the realisation that we are part of the world and not superior to any living being. The discussions drawn earlier on the wisdom provided in many cultures and philosoph-ical traditions leads us to reassess our role on the planet. Corbett’s (2006) argument on the impor-tance of the interaction of children with the envi-ronment is a key point, as this interaction will help them shape their future, and will also help in shap-ing their understanding of all living beings and their relationship to them. This familiarity with the environment will not only help in building and sustaining a healthy mind and body but will also lead to compassion for the Earth. Compassion en-tails that we understand another, love and respect another and care for their feelings, and therefore we are naturally compelled to pause and think be-fore we harm the Earth through any of our actions.

The mass media have a large role to play in shaping the perception of the human-nature rela-tionship. They will need to be willing to provide and portray alternative environmental discourses and alternative voices, thoughts and perhaps greater concern for ethics. They will need to in turn also question norms and existing industrialisation mod-els; to assess, reassess, think and rethink on all mat-ters pertaining to the environment. A one-dimen-sional approach to perceiving the Earth through ex-cessive consumerist media attitudes and practises needs to be questioned. Mindless consumerism undermines the sanctity of nature.

There is also a greater need for using environ-mental films, pamphlets and government inter-vention to improve understanding of environmen-tal issues, particularly those which are not main-stream ones. School and college education require adopting a holistic pattern, placing emphasis on human interaction and relationship with the en-vironment, thus helping to create environmental consciousness, love for nature and appreciation of the co-existence of life. This essential process of human communication with the environment will help the environment become a part of their per-sonality. Children of the future have the right to peace of mind; the right to be born in lands where the air is clean, free from noise; where they are able to experience a clean stream and not a pol-luted one, and where there is enough room for re-flection. It is in this future that we can perhaps be better humans.

Notes1. This is a revised draft of a paper presented at

the 20th AMIC Annual Conference on “Taking stock of media and communication studies: The challenges and opportunities of globalisa-tion, new media and the rise of Asia”, 24–27 June 2011, Hyderabad, India.

2. In November 2010, the N C Saxena Com-mittee confirmed the violation of the Forest Rights Act (FRA) in the case of the Orissa government’s acquisition of land towards the Posco project (See Mishra, 2013). The Orissa government, however, argued that there were no forest dwellers in the area of the proposed Posco plant, leading to the project’s eventual environmental clearance.

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