Shaped by a history of marginalisation, people living with a mental illness are frequently misrepresented by the media. (Illustration: Freepik) 
Concerns about the misrepresentation in the media of South Africa’s vulnerable communities are frequently attributed to a fragmented media landscape constrained by limited resources. In South Africa, in particular, these systemic challenges tend to impede accurate storytelling and also perpetuate stigmatising narratives about vulnerable groups.
In South Africa, health-related vulnerabilities, especially, are deeply interconnected with social and structural inequalities. Research from the University of Pretoria’s Health Sciences Faculty recently highlighted that our vulnerable communities are disproportionately affected by HIV, tuberculosis, noncommunicable diseases and mental health challenges.
Shaped by a history of marginalisation, people living with a mental illness are frequently misrepresented by the media. In the past two decades, these misrepresentations have moved away from obviously stigmatising words like “crazy” or “deranged” to more subtle but harmful distortions. Examples of the latter include the frequent use of images displaying looks of despair perpetuating unspoken social standards for appropriate and inappropriate behaviour in the context of mental illnesses.
Despite decades of awareness campaigns and policy promises, people living with mental health challenges still find themselves on the receiving end of a far more insidious threat: societal stigma. Stigma is a quiet but potent force that isolates, shames and often pushes individuals away from the systems designed to help them. Mental illness stigmatisation can lead to other adverse effects such as isolation, self-stigmatisation and noncompliance with treatment for fear of being shamed. In this respect, the World Health Organization has been unequivocal: mental health stigma is a global crisis that fuels persistent suffering and contributes to economic loss.
Across the world, as countries contend with a tsunami of geopolitical, health and safety catastrophes, one concept is rising to prominence in the halls of our governments, boardrooms, clinics and editorial newsrooms: care.
The earliest proponent of care ethics, Carol Gilligan, stated that an ethics of care starts from the premise that, as humans, we are inherently relational, responsive beings, and the human condition is one of connectedness and interdependence.
Feminist interpretations of care
With longstanding roots in social work and nursing, the feminist interpretations of care significantly shaped new literature about the dynamics of giving and receiving care, particularly within political and global policy contexts. Scottish economist and philosopher Adam Smith argued that a “care ethic is relevant to modern economics”, and political philosopher Kari Greenswag said that ethics of care should be considered an important lens through which to view complex international moral and political contexts.
Thinkers like Virginia Held have argued that real care isn’t about grand ideals, it’s about attending to the actual work of care, and to the often-invisible relationships between people, communities and institutions.
Still, far too often, SA media privileges spectacle over care. Burning informal settlements make for great photo opportunities, but rarely the thousands of families rebuilding their lives. People living with a mental illness are often curled up on floors, head in hands, reduced to a stock image of suffering, rather than recognised as individuals with agency.
When applied to the newsroom, care ethics is about narrative power, public trust and the reshaping of opinions. From a journalistic perspective, a care ethics framework shifts reporting from rule-bound and detached to attentiveness and a shared sense of humanity. American media scholar Joe Mathewson has argued that journalists, like caregivers in the traditional sense, are deeply entangled in relationships with sources, subjects and ultimately audiences. The notion of caring is thus grounded in the understanding that to be human is to exist in a web of relationships, that we are naturally connected, inherently interdependent and responsive and, critically, that our experiences are shaped by these connections.
Within these dynamics, a care ethics framework asks for more than just accurate and/or objective reporting. It is stepping up to a deeper kind of responsibility that recognises its impact on vulnerable groups, especially. In the media sense, care ethics is about ensuring that how we tell our news stories makes provision for practice rooted in attentiveness and care. It is ensuring a balance between professional and personal sources, revisiting how we report on mental illnesses, particularly when it’s tied to violence, tragedy or despair. These reporting methods reduce complex human experiences to pathology, and in doing so, reinforce fear and misunderstanding instead of compassion and clarity.
From a media reporting perspective, the discrimination against people living with a mental illness is not easy to address, as it is compounded by our strained healthcare system, political instability and competing priorities, but an ethics of care in South African newsrooms will reorient at least some journalistic responsibilities towards fulfilling the needs of and empowering SA’s vulnerable people.
Care ethics can be a lifeline for journalists tackling the deeply misunderstood and stigmatised issue of mental illnesses in SA. By shifting how stories are told, care ethics can start to dismantle harmful stereotypes, making space for people living with a mental illness to be seen as humans worthy of understanding, support and justice. DM
Florence de Vries is a PhD candidate in Stellenbosch University’s Department of Journalism. Her research focuses on care ethics and reporting on mental illnesses.
This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.
