'Media literacy," wrote Joe Lee in the Sunday Tribune of May 13th, "is the ability to 'read' a newspaper or a radio programme or, especially today, a television programme, in a way that is alert to the techniques which may be used by programme makers...to persuade us of their viewpoint."
He was reacting to the controversy over the Des O'Malley love-in, arguing that, in the Republic, media literacy is critically important but disgracefully neglected.
He's right. Media literacy is important and neglected (even if not quite so neglected as he assumes; contrary to his belief, it is taught, with varying degrees of prominence, at DCU, DIT, NUI Galway, UL and other institutions). But children's programmes aside, it is seldom such a simple matter as in the O'Malley hagiography, which was about as sophisticated as the white hats (the law 'n' order Dessie posse) versus the black hats (the outlaw Charlie gang) in the B westerns of the old Saturday matinees.
Lee went on to warn, sensibly, about "the danger of indoctrination" before concluding, naively, I'm afraid, that "nobody can do more to teach media literacy than the media". In theory, it is of course true that the media have the greatest potential to teach media literacy.
But in practice, with the protection of mystique outweighing the desire to explain, that is not the way it works. Indeed, the media, prepared as they properly are to examine institutions and individuals - from the crucial to the trivial - devote alarmingly little time to examining themselves.
In that, to be fair, they are little different from other powerful institutions, and knee-jerk charges of "narcissistic", "navel-gazing" and even "incestuous" aren't exactly encouraging to those with a mind to bother.
It is sometimes argued that the controlling high priests of contemporary media have replaced the once high and mighty priests of religion as arbiters of manners and morals. Perhaps they have, but media-sponsored pop bands, star footballers and business "heroes" could just as easily be cited in this regard.
As with all propaganda, it is seldom the spectacularly biased or melodramatic programme that has the most persuasive effects. Such efforts can certainly whip up emotions and media storms. They may even have alarming short-term consequences.
But in the voracious media, they are invariably replaced quickly by the next sensation. It is the staple stuff that does the conditioning. As imperceptibly but incessantly as dripping water erodes rock, older ways and values - both good and bad - become eroded and "common sense" is recast.
So, while the O'Malley tribute can be fairly condemned as polemic posing as documentary, the obviousness of its leanings undoes it.
The media literacy required to, in Lee's word, "read" the RT╔ news or this newspaper or an O'Reilly paper or even the whole shebang of media as a distinct entity, is another matter. Ultimately, of course, ideology on the part of the "reader" confronts ideology on the part of the author, and firm footing may be difficult to find.
A simple method of promoting media literacy in any society is to encourage people to observe the contradictions between the messages of its ads and the messages of its news. With rare exceptions, everything else falls between these states of "sell" and "tell", and we can glimpse the stories and values of our culture.
It's equally crucial to recognise that what we read, hear or see in the media (including this), though it may have the imprimatur of a respected institution, cannot but be selective.
Imagine four people watching Coronation Street. They are critics, each for one of the following hypothetical magazines: Marxist Monthly, Analysis Periodical, Semiotics Sentinel and Social Studies. After watching, they write reviews suitable for their publications.
The Marxist may reflect on the injustices of capitalist societies and the way the cosy soap's characters are alienated from their true selves. The shrink may decide Coronation Street is really about Mike Baldwin's unresolved Oedipal problems. The semiological critic could be expected to focus on how meaning is generated through those lingering chimney-pot shots, contrasting interiors and the barmaid's make-up. The sociological approach would focus on the roles and traits assigned to characters as representatives of social groupings.
Presume that the reviewers write, within their contexts, fair and accurate reviews. Each way of looking at Coronation Street can produce meaningful conclusions. But few people are such specialised critics. Most of us cannot "read" media with sufficient knowledge of these and other systematic methods.
In fact, most of us respond to media with a jumble of reason and emotion, itself a product of our natures and experience. If, as many of us do from time to time, we use television, for instance, as shimmering wallpaper - anything to deflect thought from work, bills, worries - we are at best browsing, and certainly not "reading".
It's remarkable, too, how sensitive people can be about their ability to "read" media. Almost like such defining marks of identity as race, face and place, few people tolerate much criticism of their media literacy. This, in turn, often leads to the sort of absurd relativism that insists all interpretations are equally valid. They're not, of course. But like the legions of football fans who believe they know better than managers, many media watchers believe they can see further than the criticism they read.
Presumably, some can. Nonetheless, in a frenetic culture, in which fame is greatly desired and rewarded and public relations exists to distort proportion (and often even the truth), media literacy is a minefield. The formation of public opinion has always been a complex matter, and it is probably wise to cultivate scepticism in the face of suspiciously hard sells.
Then again, after that the risk is of healthy scepticism souring into unhealthy cynicism, because there is no shortage of cynical media out there chasing advertisers' wallets.
So, while Lee is right in his call for increased media literacy, it's not a simple matter. For a start, the subject is not of great interest to people who could arguably benefit most from it.
Perhaps younger generations, raised on the multimedia entertainments of Sony PlayStations, will be less passive and more media literate than their predecessors. But, in many cases, the cost of such media literacy appears likely to be paid in a diminution of verbal literacy. Think of the Waaasssuuup! ad. It says a great deal if you "read" it in a certain way. In the absence of adequate media literacy, the basics of which, as Lee argued, ought to be taught in secondary schools, gross simplifications thrive.
At one extreme, the media scarcely matter; at the other, they are inherently biased and to blame for just about any troublesome state of affairs. But we are not all innocents unwittingly corrupted by our reading, viewing and listening. We bring our own baggage to media - as they bring theirs to us.
Despite connotations of "baggage", however, this is not necessarily negative. There is massive daily distortion, of course, principally because the high priests of the media are just as obsessed with sex as the priests of religion ever were. But if accounts of serious issues have been influential or persuasive - indeed, if such accounts consolidate particular interpretations- then it is likely they have connected with feelings and thoughts already in place. Attempts to impose such feelings and thoughts on the audience can succeed, but seldom survive for long.
Still, it seems likely that most people do not like the media, even though almost everybody likes at least some of their products. For that reason, the savage review is generally much more popular than the praising one. Knowing that, reviewers often seek out material that can easily be mocked. Perhaps damning notices appeal to a communal begrudgery (which is often justified) or perhaps it's just that the language of vilification has got so much more energy than the language of praise.
Whatever the reason, the assumption that criticism is essentially a matter of fault-finding is widely held. People like to read and hear it, even if only to experience the pleasure of condemning it. It may be, as Lee contended, that the O'Malley love-in stresses the need for the teaching of television literacy.
If so, it also points up the need for the teaching of Irish television history. After all, decades of political censorship, the bluntest technique to persuade you of a particular viewpoint, produced distortion so prolonged that viewers who didn't read newspapers couldn't possibly have become "literate" on the conflict in the North. Then again, that's another day's story. Just don't expect television to teach you about that part of its history.