The National Communications Commission recently punished Sanlih Entertainment Television for misusing historical video footage in a documentary on the 228 Incident by fining it NT$1 million and ordering the station to improve its internal editing and oversight system. What was unusual was the commission's order telling Sanlih to invite experts on media ethics to teach an eight-hour course to all departmental managers within two months.
Although this kind of punishment has been used in Britain, it was new to Taiwan. This has the public wondering: Will a media ethics course work? Can you really teach ethics just because you are a media communications expert?
A US study analyzing the effectiveness of teaching news media rules and ethics concluded that short-term classes in ethics may not build a solid foundation for ethical behavior but they can help improve reasoning and decision-making.
In other words, ethics isn't simply a dogma about morality and standards.
Moral standards can be in conflict with one another. For example, an overemphasis on media ethics may limit freedom of the press, while freedom of the press may endanger national security. As such, ethics is significant as a method of dialectical reasoning, or moral reasoning. This not only has practical implications for the media, but also involves personal choices about the meaning of one's life and values.
Although ethics education has its flaws, looking at the emphasis placed on teaching philosophy in advanced democratic societies shows that it is a key foundation in elevating the public mind. Teaching ethics alone does not guarantee an improved media, but without it, improvement is impossible.
This brings us to the next question: What kind of ethics courses have the journalism and communications departments in various universities and vocational colleges established, and who is teaching them? The answer is disheartening. There seems to be no ethics course in most schools' curriculum, and practically no media ethics academic with a strong background in moral philosophy.
Four years ago, the School of Journalism at National Taiwan University tried to invite two outstanding professors to teach such a course, but no student signed up for the class. There are also some communications instructors who regard ethics education as unimportant because they do not understand philosophy. Neither are there philosophy teachers who are involved in teaching media ethics.
In short, media ethics is a wasteland in this country.
Given the lack of media ethics experts, who will teach such a class? True, the nation has some excellent journalists and documentary makers who insist on sticking to journalism's core value -- truth and public welfare. Their example can have a positive effect that others can emulate. However, they still lack a sound grounding in moral philosophy.
Plato's ideal rulers were "philosopher kings." To realize this ideal, he thought that if philosophers could not be rulers, then rulers should be taught to be philosophers.
If we were to follow Plato's reasoning, we should encourage philosophers to do media research, or encourage media workers to study philosophy. Communications education and the academic world should work together to find a way to foster media ethics scholarship.
If we don't plant the seeds today, there may be nothing to harvest tomorrow.
Flora Chang is a professor at the National Taiwan University's Graduate Institute of Journalism.
Translated by Marc Langer
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s
US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) were born under the sign of Gemini. Geminis are known for their intelligence, creativity, adaptability and flexibility. It is unlikely, then, that the trade conflict between the US and China would escalate into a catastrophic collision. It is more probable that both sides would seek a way to de-escalate, paving the way for a Trump-Xi summit that allows the global economy some breathing room. Practically speaking, China and the US have vulnerabilities, and a prolonged trade war would be damaging for both. In the US, the electoral system means that public opinion
RSS