Lyrics: Not as violent/profane/"offensive" as they used to be?

There's an assumption that the number and intensity of references to sex and violence and otherwise "offensive" content has a certain upward trajectory across the years: each generation of parents complains about how media content is somehow worse than it was when they were young: more anti-social, dumber, or more harmful in some way. If you look at ALL media experiences, this trend seems to be holding. Yesterday, parents worried about rock and roll music and comic books, today they worry about video games and Facebook. Mind you, I don't think that this cycle of worry has anything to do with the actual effects of these media experiences: most of the people on either side of these moral panics aren't very interested in empirically testing their claims. Nevertheless, content analyses of media experiences would, I think, show a kind of evolution over time, with some taboo activity (typically related to sex or violence) getting more numerous, intense, and realistic as time goes on.

But if you look WITHIN a certain medium, like popular music, I'm not sure the trend holds. Have the lyrics of songs gotten "worse" - more references to sex, drugs, violence, other taboo subjects - over the past 20 years? Two things make me think they have not obeyed this upward trajectory.

1: personal experience. I admit, I'm an old fogey. I'm 36, I mostly listen to music that was written last century (and occasionally before that), but I listen to pop radio on a semi-regular basis and absorb aspects of most cultural trends in the way that any user of meme-based entertainment websites does. I can still detect the shifts in popular genres of music (the ascendance of EDM for example). Of course, there are small sub-genres I'm completely unaware of, but that was always the case: there were always musical niches listened to by the minority of listeners, and often those were the places where future popular music would arise from. But I'm willing to bet that even if you sampled music from every genre you could find, even the small ones, the lyrics would not be any "worse" than they were in the 1990's. So I guess I'm making two claims: the "worst of the worst" in lyrics today is no worse than it was in the 90's, AND the average popular song is no "worse" in lyrics today than it was at that point. The extent to which lyrics of popular music were anti-social and taboo-violating peaked in the 90's (but maybe I'm just saying this because it was the time when I came of age, when I was rebelling, seeking out the "worst" lyrics I could find).

2. Crime rates in the United States. I recall that many people - pundits, scholars, and everybody else - looked at the trend in violent crimes in the US during the 20th century and assumed that the upward trend would just continue. But it didn't. Murder rates, burglary, you-name-it have all fallen since the 90's. There are many reasons for this, I'm sure, but it made me think about lyrics and certain assumptions about lyrics simply because it was another case of people being mistaken about a trend continuing unabated. I'm not saying these two trends (assuming the lyrical trend is real), which would be more-or-less simultaneous, are causally related (though if I had to speculate, I would say that the lyrics reflect social reality and not the other way around, or its a reciprocal relationship). It just got me thinking that trends are often part of cycles, not inexorable laws with one trajectory.

Of course this is just a hunch. I'm looking for a quick way to do a little content analysis to test this hunch. There are a lot of useful databases out there now, so I assume it could be done.

To return to my point about lyrics and their place in the media environment: I get the sense that teen rebellion (or just rebellion in general) is no longer the domain of popular music. Lyrics went about as far as they could go in terms of violating taboos. The internet clearly allows for more rebellion, more anti-social behavior (not only in word, but in deed), which, I suppose, underscores the importance of taking a holistic view of media use, whether you're a parent, a scholar, or both.

What is Wikipedia now?

I was searching for information on a current event for class discussion: the Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings. Before, I was assigning a reading to another class: the wikipedia entry on Bandura's Bobo Doll study (I didn't feel as though students were ready to read an academic article from the early 60's, and I thought that the wikipedia article did a good job of distilling the essence of the article and doing so in a manner that most undergrads could understand and remember it). I felt a bit guilty about using Wikipedia in these ways. I wasn't holding up Wikipedia as an object of study (how is it created? Who creates it? How trustworthy is it relative to other sources?), but instead using it as if it were a legitimate source of information.

Upon reflecting on these feelings of guilt, I thought about how Wikipedia has probably changed over the past few years, since gaining prominence. Initially, the question was "is Wikipedia as reliable as published sources?" The assumption was that, because it is open to be edited by anyone, it could never be as reliable as published, vetted sources. As far as I know, it is still as open to change as it was back then (though perhaps the structure of correcting errors and detecting bias has been improved), but I think its wrong to assume that openness determines the extent to which any document is trustworthy. The factor that people should be paying attention to is motivation to introduce bias.

Think about other sources of information on the web. Is there some motivation to introduce bias to the information? In most case, there is some motivation. Maybe it is to please corporate shareholders, or to retain a certain audience so that they can get more views within that niche and generate profit that keeps them afloat. With Wikipedia, there are some particular topics that are edited frequently by interested parties, but as I understand it, the system has a way of detecting those and flagging those. But for my purposes, for using it in class as a way of getting the facts straight about Sandy Hook, or learning about Social Learning Theory, doesn't it present a much more even-handed, complete summation of these entities than any other available source on current events?

Maybe it wasn't always this way. There might have been a contingent of people adamant on shaping public perception of some event or entity that systematically altered the Wikipedia entries on those things. That was when there was some public conversation about the trustworthiness of Wikipedia entries. But now that that conversation has dropped out of the news cycle, out of the public consciousness, are those interested parties still as numerous, and as interested? These things have implications for the true trustworthiness of the content on Wikipedia. I am skeptical that people intent on fooling people retained their passion for altering Wikipedia entries, or, in that passion, eclipsed the Herculian efforts of volunteers working for Wikipedia to keep it free of disinformation and bias. But who knows?

The Werther Effect 2.0: Psychogenesis in the Internet Age

One of my favorite films from the last few years starts and concludes with an idea that, aptly, took root in my brain and has been something I think about long after I saw the film for the first time. It is articulated by the main character Dom Cobb: "An idea is like a virus, resilient, highly contagious. The smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you." Soon after seeing this film, I learned about the Werther effect. 

The idea of the Werther Effect is simple and unnerving. When people are informed through news reports or fictional stories of the fact that other people have committed suicide, they are more likely to commit suicide themselves. The message (e.g., a news report of suicide or suicide statistics or a story about someone committing suicide) likely makes the message receiver believe that the act in question is something that people, perhaps people similar to him or her, do. That isn’t to say that it makes the act socially acceptable or condones the act. By conveying that it has happened and that someone else did it, the message makes the act salient to the receiver, introduces it as a possible course of action, and may imply that it is common. Some theorists say that it may just be a simple suggestion-imitation model of behavior. In either case, it is more likely that the message receiver will commit suicide than if they had not heard the message at all (see Etzersdorfer, Voracek,& Sonneck, 2004; Gould, 2001; Hittner, 2005; Phillips 1978, 1979; 1982; Wasserman, 1984 for details, Thorson & Oberg 2003 for a contrary view).

In the top-down world of mass media production, news editors have been encouraged to downplay suicides, making them less likely to inspire readers to commit suicide. But if we assume that the same relation holds between exposure to the message and suicide in the age when exposure is "viral" (i.e., spread through online social networks) and/or search-based (i.e., determined by in-the-moment interests), then how do you curb imitative suicide? The story of someone’s suicide might spread through a group of people who are already preoccupied with the idea or seek out this kind of information. It may spread through people who are trying to offer support. 

This might be part of a more general problem in the age of the internet (where messages reach people through social networks or based on their consistency with people’s pre-existing pre-occupations/preferences). There might be other kinds of behaviors (anorexia, cutting one’s self, abusing drugs) and even other ways of thinking (depressive thought patterns) that are similar to suicide in that they are capable of being directly influenced by messages (i.e., not entirely physiological in origin), they are generally considered to be undesirable (i.e., painful for the individual and community), and are stigmatized (that is, not talked about). This particular kind of stigmatization makes these behaviors and thought patterns different from acts of aggression toward others, which, as a culture, we seem to have no problem discussing. This stigmatization leads, in certain communities, to an attempt to overcome the stigma through communication, through sharing experiences with the behavior or thought pattern and through support, to let people know that they are not alone. This reaction to the silence of the stigma is unquestionably well intentioned and it may have positive effects, but the evidence of suicide contagion makes me wonder if there are unanticipated effects. It may make message receivers who do not yet exhibit the undesirable behavior or thought pattern (or who do exhibit it but to a lesser extent than the extreme examples they hear about) more aware of the negative behavior or thought pattern, believe that it is more common or that what they are experiencing is more serious or more intense than they would have otherwise thought, and believe that it is something that people like them do or, worse yet, something that people are (as in: a permanent, defining characteristic, e.g., a depressed person, an alcoholic, etc.). 

Possible stimuli that may lead to a negative behavior or thought pattern becoming more common include advertisements for drugs or programs treating depression, anxiety, and other psychological conditions; online support groups; social media messages (Facebook and Twitter posts) related to the topic; news stories encountered via major news sites (e.g., NYTimes) or circulated virally via social media (e.g., Twitter). Make no mistake: there is plenty of evidence to suggest that these tools are useful in combating the spread and intensity of suffering and so they should not be discarded unless there is evidence that they do more harm than good. Its unrealistic to think that they ALL do more harm than good, but the evidence of suicide contagion via mass media suggests that it is worth examining whether some of thee messages, under certain circumstances for certain people, may, in fact, backfire. Establishing whether or not any messages designed to curb suffering that is not physiological or physical in origin backfire is the first step. Then, it is essential to understand why this happens, when this happens, and be able to modify the messages so that it doesn't happen anymore: all possible given the wealth of data on Internet use.