The 24-hour television news cycle has become a mainstay of everyday life. You can tune in once a day and get a summary of whatever news is breaking. The problem is that on any given day, there are not 24 hours-worth of breaking-news-alert style events. Little known fact: the 24-hour news cycle was a discovery and not an invention. Rather than a group of dexterous editors and producers devising the most efficient means of communicating information to their audience, it was something that American TV news channels stumbled upon in the aftermath of 9/11. The lesson that the US mainstream media took from the public’s response to their coverage of 9/11 was that there can be an endless appetite for breaking news. But all news, even if it’s as indelible as 9/11, is ephemeral by nature. As time went on and there were fewer new facts to be found and reported, the TV channels (particularly CNN) were reluctant to let go of this sudden and massive bump in viewership (and therefore advertising revenue) and felt the need to continue with breaking-news alerts . And so the 24-hour news cycle became ubiquitous for TV channels worldwide, as though there had never been any other way of doing things.

All of the Pakistani TV channels follow the format of the 24-hour news cycle, something that was created in response to a national crisis – a time when the public safety (not to mention levels of panic) is contingent upon their access to credible and relevant information quickly. Last year, we experienced just such a long-term crisis, and the media’s handling of it was less than optimal. American TV news, the birthplace of the 24-hour news cycle, took the pandemic very seriously, covered it every single day and scrutinised the Trump administration’s handling of it; so much so that it became the main issue of the 2020 presidential election and the driving force that got Trump voted out of office.

The impact of TV coverage of a crisis on how seriously people take it cannot be overstated. How much more likely are you to stay at home (or wear a mask if you absolutely have to go out) when the news tells you there were 490 deaths from Covid as opposed to 49? Data scientists estimate that there are at least 10 deaths due to Covid for every one that is reported. It wouldn’t be surprising that the real death toll is manifold higher than reported, considering the fact that many communities don’t have access to hospitals. Covid patients in these communities are both more likely to die at home (without access to emergency care); and more likely to die from Covid; period. The UN, the WHO and the international community have remained sceptical of our official Covid figures. The UK, which has a well-funded public healthcare system, fewer poverty-related co-morbidities and far more stringent lockdown policies, has a death toll that currently stands at over 103,000; ours is 11,560. Not only did the news media continue to parrot the government’s obviously faulty public health data throughout this pandemic, there were no serious attempts at independent data journalism from the local channels.

This discrepancy, keeping in mind that we don’t yet know how large it truly is, hampers the public’s risk assessment. Just as people check the weather every morning to determine what sort of clothes to wear, the reporting of accurate death and infection rates is paramount to ensuring that people are careful about catching and spreading the disease. Reporting raw infection figures (i.e. the number of positive cases reported each day), without putting them in the context of the number of tests conducted each day, led to the public perception that the infection was far less widespread than it was at even the peak of the first wave. Given the size of our population, the dearth of testing prevented the calculation of accurate infection-positivity rates throughout the course of 2020. Infection-positivity rates and death rates are key factors in public health policy modelling and the underreporting of risk has fatal consequences.

The media also did not operate during the pandemic in any socially responsible manner. How many newsrooms strictly enforce masking mandates indoors? And how many outlets provide their reporters, the people who go out into the field and risk exposure everyday, with n95 masks or personal protective equipment?

In the months following the first wave, there was a general misapprehension amongst the public that the pandemic was now over. This perception lingered until the coronavirus came back in the second wave, at least partly because the news cycle had moved on, forgot that the world was still battling a pandemic and allowed people to rest easy in the notion that if the coronavirus was still an issue they would be hearing about it on TV. We do not yet know how many people actually died in Pakistan during the first two waves of the pandemic, but certainly there were more than had to. Before the lockdowns, most countries had to make the tough choice between increased economic hardship and a higher death rate when deciding whether, how and how long to lockdown. Pakistan suffered on both counts.

As the PDM jalsas raged on amidst an ever-soaring infection-positivity rate, the talk shows were more interested in the political implications and long-term feasibility of this movement. The news reported breathlessly on the back and forth between Maryam Nawaz and the prime minister about whose dharna crowds were bigger. Perhaps they forgot that no political leader should ever endanger public health and safety for political gain, no matter how just or necessary the cause.

The writer is a staff member and can be found on instagram @amar.alam_literally