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The first chapter, Objectivity and Emotion, examines how these two concepts came to be viewed (falsely) as binary opposites and how in the normative Anglo-American objectivity paradigm emotion became frowned upon as a marker of poor journalism or ‘soft’ news. The origins of the objectivity norm are clearly contested academically, but this chapter argues that it arose principally as a professional code of practice in the late 19th century and early 20th century, partly to add credibility to journalism as a profession and partly to distinguish it (and defend it) from other emerging disciplines, most notably Public Relations. As Carlson and Lewis observe in relation to contemporary practice (2015: 2), the struggle over such professional boundaries often leads to different actors competing to apply or remove the label of journalism. The chapter sets the historical background and traces the recurring early challenges to the objectivity paradigm (such as the New Journalism of the 1960s and 1970s) during the analogue era before the advent of social media.

Chapter 2, Journalism and the Rise of Emotion in a Post-truth Society, focuses on more recent developments where the doubts around the objectivity paradigm resurface in the digital environment and the boundaries between traditional journalism and content on social media become increasingly blurred. It charts the rise of emotion in today’s populist media landscape, relating this to a variety of factors ranging from the advent of the ‘therapy culture’, ‘turn to affect’ and growth of autobiographical journalism to technological change associated with the era of social media, disruption to the traditional business models of news production, and the widespread use of user-generated content (UGC), which often includes raw, unedited emotive content. The chapter traces these developments against the broader trend of emotionalisation in popular culture, which had become well established by the late 1980s in the United Kingdom and was later played out with the public outpouring of grief over the death of Princess Diana in 1997. This chapter also looks at the performative aspect of broadcast news and elements of ritual that have entered into the coverage of stories on terror and natural disaster as part of this emotionalisation of culture.

The third chapter, Journalism Practice and Affect, identifies, categorises and describes the affective practices and behaviours of journalists, focusing particularly on coverage of traumatic news stories. These include the shooting of primary school children in Dunblane, Scotland, in 1996, in the pre-Internet era, and several contemporary stories dominated by social media ranging from the Syrian conflict to terror attacks in London and Paris. As outlined above, the chapter identifies two main affective behaviours, those of ‘cool detached’ and ‘autopilot’. It discusses how detachment can play multiple roles – outwardly displaying behaviour associated with professional journalism, as a practical tool to meet the commercial imperative to ‘get the story’, and serving as a defence mechanism against traumatic events being covered.

Chapter 4, Interviewing and Emotion, explores further the affective dimension of journalism practice, focusing on how journalists interview those caught up in conflict, disaster or private grief, and in wider contexts. The chapter examines the interview’s function as an affective ‘site of emergence’ in which the journalist, schooled in the professional norms of detachment, comes into contact with a victim of trauma who can be anything but detached. It argues that journalists, through experience and self-reflection, tend to build up their own affective practice of interviewing which sometimes casts aside the harsher edges of the objectivity norm and relies on a more empathic approach. This affective practice often occurs automatically with little conscious monitoring.

Chapter 5, The Herd Instinct, examines what is sometimes known as ‘pack journalism’ and the affective contagion that can occur between journalists when they arrive en masse to cover a scene of a big breaking news story. Such journalism has a long history and was famously captured in Timothy Crouse’s account of the 1972 Nixon–McGovern US presidential campaign Boys on the Bus. The chapter explores the origins of that contagion and herd instinct, which is partly due to commercial pressures to deliver the story ahead of the competition and personal pressures not to miss the story and be scooped by rivals. But it also investigates the affective dimension that binds groups of journalists together in ways that are at a non-conscious level.

The sixth chapter, Journalism and Trauma, concentrates on the potential trauma suffered by journalists exposed to difficult news stories in the field or material they are handling in the newsroom, the mental health risks and measures to reduce them. It draws on personal interviews with journalists and best practice developed by the Dart Center for Journalism & Trauma, a global charity based at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism in New York. The Dart Center provides support for journalists suffering from stress incurred through coverage of traumatic news stories; it also provides best practice guidelines and resources for emotionally literate reporting by promoting better understanding of issues around trauma. As a trustee and chair of its European operations, I have been closely involved over the past 15 years with many of the issues discussed in this chapter. These include how journalists can be exposed to vicarious suffering, traumatic stress and full-blown post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The chapter also explores the culture of silence or stigma that has hung over the topic of mental health and how the macho nature of journalism is gradually giving way to a greater understanding and to more open discussion of trauma.

Chapter 7, Journalists and User-generated Content, expands on this theme, exploring the affective impact on journalists handling a very particular type of user-generated content on social media ‘hubs’ (dubbed the ‘digital frontline’). The focus is on violent propaganda images, often inspired by ISIS and emanating from the Middle East conflict or what have been called ‘terrorist selfies’. The chapter explores the distinction between the relatively rare iconic analogue images of old referred to in this introduction and today’s pervasive digital material. Through interviews, it explores the lived experience of those journalists working with graphic user-generated content and how they attempt to cope with images of tragedy and suffering, which are often designed as propaganda. The chapter also looks at how news organisations have reacted to the issue and best practice now emerging for dealing with such material. One solution has been to create a distance between the journalist working on a social media hub and the material being handled on screen (making images smaller, turning off sound, only viewing one portion of the image), thus underscoring how detachment can work in this new context as an affective defence mechanism.

The concluding chapter encapsulates the changes in journalism culture and professional ideologies that have accompanied the rise of emotion and have led to what can be termed today’s ‘affective media landscape’. It argues that while journalists’ ideologies and values – including the sacred principle of objectivity – remain remarkably stable, their actual practice is changing to incorporate more emotionally charged material into today’s news. As a result, the contradictions and tensions at the heart of journalism practice are only increasing. The gap between what many journalists still believe in and espouse and what they actually do is growing. It is in this climate that the book makes an appeal for a refinement of the journalist’s mindset that can lead to a better understanding of emotion and journalism.