PressEthic

In May of this year, a suburban bride-to-be named Jennifer Wilbanks decided that she wasn't quite ready for marriage. Instead of telling her fiancé that, she took off with the money she had in her pocket and, due to a series of bizarre circumstances, shortly ended up getting asked all sorts of personal questions by Katie Couric on national television.

Some point to this as more evidence that the media is "broken." "Hey," this line of argument reckons, "people are starving and dying all over the world. There has to be something more important than this to report."

Yes, there is. There are reams of stories on war, starvation, trade, economics and other big stories that are being reported right now, fulfilling journalism's mission to write the vaunted "first draft of history."

But not everyone will read it. In fact, many won't.

A simple reason is that people love stories – stories with a simple who (in this case, slightly nutty bride), what (running away from the altar), when (on her wedding day!), where (she ended up New Mexico?!) and why (for that, they call in Katie Couric).

And, sadly, any story that may include the word "disapora" or "zeitgeist" isn't as easy to write in a story format.

It's not to say that readers are shallow or simplistic. They're not (not all of them, at least.) They're busy people, sitting on the subway wondering how much money they have in the bank, how they're going to get through another day of work, and how their families are fairing in this world.

Why then, do people read mindless stories? Because, with all honesty, the real world is hard enough to take as it is. Nurses might read In Touch Weekly because they see enough death on the clock, thank you very much. Firefighters may read Maxim because once they start thinking about how it could have been them on Sept. 11th they can't turn that line of thinking off, no matter how hard they try. Lawyers who specialize in child custory cases might read Gawker.com because making fun of Paris Hilton helps the mind turn down the sound of parents pleading for their kids.

The press is trained in looking at issues from all sides, and has altruistically cast that eye on its own products. That's why there are sections of the newspaper. Some readers want to hear about the creators of Curious George running from the Nazis, some want to read about Barry Bonds and his bionic arms, and some want to read about John Roberts getting interviewed for the last job he may possibly ever have.

And yes, some want to read about poor ol' Jennifer Wilbanks and her fast shoes.

The press isn't "broken." It's giving the people what they want, for better or worse. With the advent of blogs, if someone doesn't agree that a story should be front-page news, he's free to make his own virtual paper. But trying to tell people what they're reading is junk – and not giving them an alternative – is the fastest way to find yourself wondering why no one seems to be listening.