I remember only too well the first time I heard those ominous words accompanying a story on the BBC News. It must have been over fifteen years ago, perhaps more, although I can no longer recall details of the exact event that warranted the warning. But the sense of alarm it conjured up, mixed with a tinge of curiosity, will doubtless stay with me for some time. What on earth was about to be shown on prime-time television under the guise of the News that required viewers to be prepared for what was about to follow? The images were indeed shocking, and advance warning was undoubtedly appropriate, but compared to some of the footage we have encountered recently, it would hardly appear out of the ordinary. Indeed, the inclusion of a disclaimer at the beginning of news reports has somehow come to define the brutality and inhumanity of the world we currently inhabit and the depth of suffering we regularly witness, epitomised by the recent Russian invasion of Ukraine.
Rarely have I struggled so much to handle the relentless onslaught of distressing scenes of unspeakable suffering that has accompanied the attempted annihilation of a sovereign state: the needless loss of life of innocent adults and children, the destruction of homes, livelihoods and the way of life of those displaced by the conflict. Having worked voluntarily as a psychotherapist with some of the survivors of the Balkans war in the late 1990s, I encountered at first hand the impact of PTSD on those who had witnessed the atrocities of war. The trauma of the Balkans war lives on even today, transmitted down the generations: I can only imagine for how long the legacy of the current conflict will be felt across Ukraine.
But what are we to do about the daily avalanche of distressing images from which it is all but impossible to escape, whether presented on the evening news, in the newspapers each morning or transmitted direct to our smartphones, inviting so-called doomscrolling. It is, of course, important that we are informed of events and the scale of their impact, however distressing they may be: it is only such awareness that can inspire the acts of kindness that fund charities working at the front line, provide much-needed supplies for those who have lost everything and prompt offers of accommodation for refugees fleeing the conflict. But there is a point beyond which constant exposure merely traumatises us, risking compassion fatigue, a well-known phenomenon in which we become progressively detached from people’s suffering, paradoxically feeling less rather than more empathy for their distress. That watershed moment requires not only self-awareness but also the wisdom to heed the warnings that accompany news items, if only to preserve our sense of compassion for the next humanitarian crisis to fill our screens.
(Image courtesy of Leonhard Niederwimmer and Unsplash)