If a
bystander saw a young girl on a fairground carousel who was evidently
considering leaping off during its languorous rotations, he might try
to prevent her from doing so, but if that girl was a grown woman
that same bystander might think she was crazy, high on drugs or
alcohol or just plain crazy, and look away, uncaring whether she went
ahead or waited like the other patrons for the ride to come to a
natural halt to alight more gracefully. Or, whichever he'd taken her
for – girl or woman - he might bear witness static and silently,
recording the split-second decision on his phone for his own
voyeuristic pleasure, only realising the perilous conditions
belatedly which would be too late had the girl-woman leapt as it was
no longer happening in real-time. And so his reactions too would be
second-hand for in the first instance he hadn't had any.
None
whatsoever. And whether he then does on a second viewing, removed as
he is now from the scene, is purely conjectural for perhaps he's as
calm as he was then or perhaps the crude cinematic effect thrills,
rather than chills, him and so he uploads it on social media. A bold
move that claims he was there with the footage to prove it. There as
a witness, a spectator, involved, but can he claim to be that? For he
wasn't, not really, not with every fibre of his being for his
emotions went untouched; the incident studied after like a museum
exhibit or confiscated propaganda that his brain at the time failed
to register, which even in the aftermath continues to deny him access
to its own unedited material, for the uploaded phone version, devoid
as it is of his own moral or empathic engagement, is now his truth.
This
variant goes viral. The global community watches, re-watches and
posts comments about the footage itself as well as the eyewitness
that took it, and this, in a matter of hours, becomes a stream of
conversation, its many threads stretching out to calculable others in
unpronounceable continents and even farther-flung countries. And yet
on the surface, it flows ever downwards with profile pictures which
underneath or next to it might have one word exclamation,
exclamation, or a fuller remark in reference to the footage or in
reply to a previous post.
It's a
virtual world with sci-fi qualities where everything is unimpeachably
shared, and shared, and shared, a bit like a sleeper that transverses
long distances and stops at few stations in order to carry gossip
from the cities to the less populated towns and remoter villages, and
which only runs out of steam when everything that could possibly be
said has been said and the furtherest corners have been reached. Then
it slows, terminates at the last station or leisurely chugs back to
its starting point and entertains those that missed it the first
time.
Amidst
this opining, the bystander would have been lauded and criticised;
been interviewed sympathetically and challenged; been held
responsible for his actions – his lack of intervention and his
instinctive reflex to stand and record which some take issue with and
others ignore because they can't be sure that if they were in that
situation they wouldn't do the same: reach for the phone like a
cowboy in a modern Western, which they argue does less harm than
pulling the trigger on a gun, although others proclaim such images
mentally stain those who were there and those who were not; and as
this debate wages the capturer usually vanishes.
Quite
simply, the furore dies and the matter is forgot. The argument does
not conclude or come to an overall consensus. The incident, which
could have gone largely unseen, has touched lives unasked because in
this rising tide of global culture there is no self-censorship.
The
upshot being that a bystander's reactions are not often determined by
the will of the individual but by the carousel already in motion.
Picture credit:
Fairground Carousel, St Giles Fair, Oxford, 1895, Henry Taunt