Reprinted from The Indian Express, December 31, 2005
Pratap Bhanu Mehta
There is a danger that public morality in Indian will sink into a coarse and vulgar voyeurism. The most disquieting aspect about l`affaire Sanjay Joshi is not his relationships: what happens between two consenting adults is their business alone. But in the political brouhaha accompanying this episode, we are missing a fundamental question. What does it tell you about our society that secret cameras have become our preferred instrument of moral expose?
In a curious way there is an uncanny connection between the emerging culture of sting operations, ostensibly in the name of public morality, and the increasing dissemination of visual sleaze about private lives. Both revel in exposing a culture of temptation, where hedonism knows no limits of private integrity or public morality. Both trade on similar reactions in the target audiences. First, introduce a degree of sensationalism. Then occupy a high moral ground in the name of public morality.
We buy this, not because we are necessarily more discriminating and moral, but because seeing others exposed this way induces a self righteousness in us. Indeed, it could be argued that for the media and public culture in general bouts of self-righteousness are increasingly being used as a substitute for a moral life of discrimination. So long as we can find someone to dump upon, our moral task is complete; we are reassured of our own virtue. Discussions of public morality in India, especially among the middle classes are always amazing in one respect. Every such discussion is about all of us individually feeling superior to others: it is always others who are corrupt, others who are in the grip of the wrong morality, others who have shown bad taste, others who oppress other people. I have never understood how everyone could be so morally sanctimonious and yet society apparently not that moral. The only explanation is that we are interested in morality not for morality`s sake but because it is an occasion for the assertion of self righteousness.
Hidden camera exposures claim to expose hypocrisy of various kinds: in our sexual morality, or our public life. But the short-term gains they bring by way of exposures are considerably outweighed by their long term corrosive effects. Deep down, the purposes of these exposures is not to aid the cause of public morality, or induce virtue; it is to question the very possibility of morality. The aim is to abet a culture of corrosive cynicism. Imagine a dystopia where citizens could not be sure whether a hotel they checked into, whether a potential business partner they engaged with, did not have a hidden camera. A culture of hidden cameras does not portend a more accountable future, but an invasive dystopia. It is true that the virtuous do not have anything to hide, but this pervasive intrusion by private parties, is a serious imposition on our freedom. It would be an extraordinary travesty for a free society to barter away its freedoms for a puerile culture of prying.
One could object that there is a difference between exposes of public officials violating public laws and targeting private acts of private parties. This distinction is meaningful, but only up to a point. The context in which these so-called exposes are taking place, and the sensibility that underlies them, makes you wonder. A number of news channels now routinely run such exposes on petty officials, using means that are themselves questionable and far in excess of the purported crimes that are being committed. It is one thing to use sting operations in a controlled manner, with a clear public interest in mind. But the pervasiveness of so-called hidden camera exposes is debasing a currency that ought to be used very selectively.
That private parties should be allowed to entrap others is not as clear cut a moral issue as we pretend it is. But certainly a culture that lets hidden camera moral vigilantism run amock, would be far more dangerous than one in which a few transgressors ran free. `There, but for the grace of God, go I` is a far better aid to morality than `There, but for the grace of a moral vigilante, go I`. It is almost as if the culture of expose is converting the means into an end; the preying on the vulnerability of others has become an object of delight.
The fact that in the Sanjay Joshi case, we are more concerned about the political repercussions than the underlying morality and criminality of hidden cameras, suggests two things. First is of course that we prefer to discuss politics than serious moral issues. More alarmingly, we seem to have got so used to the idea that hidden cameras are acceptable, that we do not even worry about them. Or is that we are now fundamentally confused about what our freedoms mean? Perhaps we do not think that freedom is about the space to develop our lives as we authentically think fit. Perhaps freedom is about the opposite of authenticity, it is about voyeurism, the freedom to invade other people`s lives as and when we wish.
Yes, hidden cameras have occasionally exposed the wrong-doing of public officials, but their pervasiveness should outrage us. There is a deeper lie hidden in the truths these cameras are supposedly exposing: the lie is that under the grab of truth we are making everything available for vicarious consumption. We are living under the illusion that exposing our appetites, whether for money or passion, is a substitute for morality. We might catch a few bad fish in the process, but we will have lost a larger battle. We will end up making society a version of Fox TV: kitschy, coarse and puerile.
The writer is president, Centre for Policy Research
http://www.indianexpress.com/full_story.php?content_id=84970