A Thousand Words

  

I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to some of the expressions we take at face value. You know, those quaint statements which each one of us hears like a million times that we sort of take for granted. In particular, today, the phrase “a picture’s worth a thousand words” came to mind for some reason. After all, everyone’s heard the expression, right? But do you believe it … is it really true? And if it is, who’s choosing the words?

Ah! Right there is the problem with such an expression, isn’t it? For the words—spoken before, during, or after the showing of said picture—determine the context within which any scene is interpreted. Don’t believe me? Let’s do a little test.

What if I talked at length about the barbarity displayed by the German Army invading Russia in 1941? Went into the gory details of how Fascist forces bent on world domination steamrolled most of the free world, targeting whole races and social classes of people for extermination. Droned on about the many acts of documented sadism displayed by members of the German Wehrmacht and its more evil twin, the Waffen SS.  If I then showed you the following—fairly benign—pictures, what emotions come to hand? Anger? Sadness? Disgust?

Now, most of you will glance at the photos, note the ubiquitous Stahlhelm “Steel Helmet” worn by Nazi armies ravaging Europe from 1939 to 45, and move on. Some will notice that all of the soldiers in the pictures appear to have Asian features. Japanese, maybe? Some Fifth Column working against the Soviets in the Far East? But the true history nerds out there—my peeps—know that the Nationalist Chinese Army at the beginning of their war with Japan in 1937 made use of German advisors, tactics, and yes, equipment. That included the now infamous German helmets.

Did I catch you napping? Did you take it for granted that my usual mindless meandering through history wouldn’t have a “gotcha” moment? Sorry for that, but it was a pretty easy one—if for no other reason than you have the ability to Google it if something looks or sounds fishy.

But what if I wanted to be really nasty … wanted to affect the way world opinion considers an ongoing, real-world situation? Or forget the world, what if I just wanted to influence my own people?

Put yourselves in the shoes of the average Russian right now. You’re surfing the net ‘cause—you know—it’s the Twenty-First Century, after all, and that’s what people do. Never mind your internet has some pretty severe firewalls that block outside information from getting in. It’s all you have.

But you run across an article talking about the barbarity displayed by a rampaging Ukrainian Army which has invaded Russian territory. You read of thousands dead, wounded, and displaced. Of homes demolished, schools burned to the ground, and historic religious institutions destroyed. You continue reading to find that your government has dispatched a large combined arms force to deal with this threat, though further conscriptions might be necessary. How do you then interpret the following photos?

Do you feel anger? A sense of patriotism? Do you run down to your nearest recruiter intent upon defending Mother Russia? Never mind that these pictures were all taken inside Ukraine, and the destruction was actually caused by the Russian Army and associated mercenaries. If you don’t know that—and you only have the twisted words of the article to go along with it—you accept what you’ve read … what you’ve been fed.

Now, as easy as it is to manipulate perception using words to frame a picture, how much easier is it sometimes to simply let the pictures do the talking all by themselves? That potentially opens itself up to an unlimited number of interpretations, but can take for granted that the necessary context has already been generated outside the media source presenting the photo. And if said photo is only released to folks who’ve been primed to react to it—again through rhetoric—it can be explosive, all by itself.

Consider the following pair of images.

Both feature men in masks counting money. And yet, one looks nefarious and the other innocent. Why? Because we’ve trained our brains to see ski masks as attire worn by criminals. And we ourselves spent the last two years wearing surgical masks. Never mind the guy on the right just robbed a convenience store and the one on the left just stepped inside on a cold winter day in Alaska. Well … not really … I just made all that up, but you get my point, right? We are, as consumers of media, INCREDIBLY easy to fool. In large part because—frankly—we believe what we see. We believe pictures … and movies … and home-made videos. Even when the content appears to be unbelievable, we’re more likely to accept it than not. And it makes sense why, right? Who are you more likely to believe, after all, me or your lying eyes?

So by now you’re probably wondering what this has to do with anything at all. Or worse, you’re familiar with my previous rants and note the intense irony in a writer complaining about the danger of misrepresenting pictures. To be honest, I don’t know why this stuck in my craw this morning, but it did. I guess if there’s a point at all it’s to issue a word of caution, reminding us all of something we already know, we just forget from time to time. Namely, that not everything we see is real, and while multiple—equally valid—interpretations can perhaps be applied to any given image, we should always ask ourselves what the interpreter gains from it. More often that not, THAT’S the more accurate measure by which we should judge validity.

Am I urging you all to become paranoid, always doubting everything and everyone around you? No, not at all. That’ll make you crazy, or at least cause you to buy into every insane conspiracy theory that floats downstream.

I’m simply reminding you to be aware, to consider the context around the imagery presented to us in a literal torrent of digital information. To use the brain you were born with to make rational—not emotional—decisions. And that’s what the pictures do, more often than not, don’t they? They seek to engage our emotions, intentionally impeding our better judgement to achieve some other purpose. That rarely works to our best interest.

 So, as you find yourself out there surfing the digital waves, remember to be careful out there. Crazy as it seems, those thousand words can really sneak up on you.

M. G. Haynes