Form

June

The most recent bit of my shonky old car to fail is the system that connects my phone to the audio, which is why I’ve been listening to the radio instead of my usual podcasts on the way to work. As a consequence, I have twice this week arrived at the office trembling with anxiety and rage. I like to stay abreast of what’s happening in the world, but I am questioning how useful it is to listen to the morning news programme. Rather than feeling edified by the time I step out of the car, I end up furious or fearful or both. I’m working from home this morning, so instead of turning on the news, I headed out for a walk to listen to the urgent updates from larks and cuckoos.

It’s made me wonder what it means to be truly informed. News and current affairs programmes tend to focus on politics, economics, global warfare, and disaster, but do these things provide a complete picture of the world around us? We might argue that these are the common concerns of a civic society, a broad canvas that appeals to most of the people listening to the radio or watching tv. But news programmes also provide regular sports updates and traffic reports, items surely only of interest to football fans and commuters. Why don’t they include slots for arts bulletins on the hour or nature stories every 30 minutes? Who chooses what is mainstream and what is special interest?

So on my walk today I questioned whether the only way to stay in touch with important issues is to listen to the radio and whether refreshing my apps to find the latest detail on a distressing national event or following breaking headlines about the next international crisis is the best method for engaging with the wider world. To inform is to teach or instruct, to ‘give form’ to reality. To be informed literally means to be shaped. And it turns out that capitalism and conflict are not the only things that create truth and mould us into being.

When I move away from screens and devices into fields and lanes, I gather information differently. I don’t need a 7am weather report to tell me that the ground is damp today and slugs are about. Or that there are bumblebees thriving in the wild meadow and potholes on the roads created by heavy vehicles and heatwaves. I bump into a neighbour and exchange news at a micro level, learning about weekend plans and the benefits of acupuncture. I stop at the parish notice board to find out about new charity fundraising initiatives and community events. I spot a rainbow and remember stories about epic floods and hope. These embodied and social moments remind me that being informed requires knowledge and experience, facts and feelings. Not everything I need to know can be fed to me via the morning news. Just ask the noisy larks. When I choose alternative channels, I am shaped anew.