Grief Porn Enters the Facebook Era

[pixy0stix]

gawker.com/this-kid-just-died-video-grief-porn-enters-the-faceb-1658876165

Right now, in a place you've never visited, a person you'll never know is dying. If he's dying in a particularly devastating way—and, more importantly, if he is leaving behind shareable content—it is possible that millions of strangers will mourn his or her death tomorrow. Why?

Last week, there is a good chance that Facebook served up to you a Buzzfeed post entitled "A Father Sings To His Dying Newborn Son After His Wife Dies Following Childbirth." Below the site's iconic yellow buttons—"LOL," "win," "omg," "cute"—sits, indeed, a video of a father singing to his dying newborn son after his wife died following childbirth. As the incubator hums and clicks, you can, if you want, watch a man in anguish sing for the end of his small family. In a tab next to Gmail, you can watch his helpless son die.

"The video has spread across the world," BuzzFeed boasts. According to Buzzfeed and YouTube's public statistics, the post has been viewed over three million times; the video, over 14 million.

As you could imagine, Facebook played a large part in the story's proliferation. BuzzFeed's post remained pinned to the top of the blog's Facebook page until Tuesday and, from there, was shared over 46 thousand times. For days after the video was posted and picked up on other sites, the story sat at the top of Facebook's "Trending" column, which appears on the right hand side of your Facebook page:

Facebook users shared Buzzfeed's post with captions like: "Speechless and sobbing"; "Omg so sad !"; "No matter what happens in your life,stuff like this brings it into perspective...Poor Guy....Heartbreaking." It bred a large community of people grieving in public over a single stranger's intense, seemingly private loss.

This most recent post is just one example in an Internet full of oddly hectoring tributes to fallen strangers. Gawker, true as always to our name, isn't exempt from cashing in on this desire. A quick look at our "tragedy" tag offers abundant examples of grief-for-grief's sake. Others push the category even further: A recent The Daily What post called (deep breath now) "Tragic Loss of the Day: 13 Year Old Anna Died in a Traffic Accident Two Weeks Ago. Share in Her Memory by Listening to Her Playing a Beautiful Rendition of Downton Abbey's Theme Song" embedded a now-popular video of a young girl who was killed while riding her bicycle. An UpWorthy post formerly titled "This Kid Just Died. What He Left Behind Is Wondtacular" (later given an SSRI and retitled "This Amazing Kid Got To Enjoy 19 Awesome Years On This Planet. What He Left Behind Is Wondtacular.") announces the death of a young man whose music career was aided by the help of a feeling Internet. It is an update on an older post: "This Kid Is Going To Die. He Is Also Going To Rock. And He Needs Your Help."

Grief porn is as old a tabloid category as sex scandal. Like regular pornography, it offers a packaged, heightened jolt that mimics a natural, human experience. It's voyeuristic, addictive, and compulsively attractive. It grabs at a desire to indulge when indulgence is otherwise unavailable. It promises a brief, satisfying release.

And, like regular pornography, the internet has transformed it. Freed from the already relaxed constraints of tabloid journalism, grief porn is no longer obligated to fake newsworthiness or importance. You don't need to die in a particularly tragic way; your death doesn't need to be the occasion for punishment or law-enactment. You just need to have produced consumable, shareable content before your untimely death. Rather than a news angle allowing a writer to smuggle grief porn into a paper, a grief-porn angle allows a content creator to smuggle a shareable unit onto Facebook.

There is an essential and almost appealing honesty to this (another way it resembles regular old sex porn): Look at This Video and Feel Sad and Then Tell Your Friends! And because in grief porn, unlike in porn porn, we imagine our indulgence in as noble rather than indecent, we feel comfortable—if not obligated—to share it with our friends.

This is by design, of course. On a crowded social internet that places a premium on generating outsized emotion and intense reaction, these stories are as close as a content producer can get to a guaranteed hit. Each social grief-porn story is surrounded by the jarring visual and verbal vocabulary of the social web: "TRENDING," "POPULAR," "SHARE," "LIKE," small upward-pointing arrows, tiny blue thumbs-up signs. We've already been trained, anyway, to present our best selves—the person we want others to believe that we are—on social media. The reaction to tragedy is not longer (just) a privately murmured better them than me but (also) a public performance: I am a feeling human!

It's hard to criticize people for honestly feeling an emotion, or publicly expressing those honest feelings. Even grief porn's most active consumers would agree that the grief one feels for a newborn whose life has only been introduced to you in the context of its impending death is different from the grief felt in confronting the loss of people who made up a part of your life.

Where Facebook and the content providers that orbit it have succeed is in gamifying and monetizing that honest reaction, frictionlessly converting the near-giddy emotional rush received from a awful story into a compulsion: "You have to read how sad this is." We dress it up with sad emojis and condolences, we talk about crying, and sometimes do cry, but it's entertainment—an episode of Parenthood, but with real people. It's something to see, extract a rush of feeling from, and forget. I mean, let's say it: We get off on it.

Maybe there is something noble to it. Sharing "A Father Sings To His Dying Newborn Son After His Wife Dies Following Childbirth" on social media could do good: A fund to pay for the "Blackbird" family's expenses has raised nearly $200,000. Similarly, the young musician who Just Died had a song reach number one on iTunes before his death. ("Blackbird," too, made a grim appearance at the top of iTunes' rock chart, so bully for UMG chairman Lucian Grainge, or whoever it is that owns Beatles recordings now.) Millions of people have watched the young girl's cover of the Downton Abby theme song, which is, I suppose, nice for her, and pretty good for Downton Abbey.

Because we live in such an odd time, we can even watch the "Blackbird" singer address his newfound Internet fame at the memorial for his wife and son. Even in his grief, and in confronting the strangeness of being at the center of a viral tragedy, he is warm and charming:

"I've had an outpouring of love and support, most of them involve the words 'I know words aren't enough, but.' And now I know how that feels, because when I say 'thank you' to all of you, that's not enough. I could never articulate how much your support and your strength and your prayers and your emails and your Facebook messages and your text messages—I don't know how any of you got my number, but there's been a lot of me just, 'Uh, okay, thank you, um.' I didn't bother going into the whole, 'I don't know who you are, but thank you.' I just—it has meant so much to me, and so when I say 'thank you' I know exactly what you mean."
"Doesn't that make it worth it?" you might wonder. "Isn't it worth the possibly misguided intent and the showiness of our Facebook crocodile shares if it relieves even the slightest amount of sadness for those at the center of these tragedies?" As with most questions about the effects of social media the only real answer is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I certainly don't think that we always know it does. I can't imagine many in a state of overwhelming pain would feel as gracious about Internet strangers texting to express their sympathies for lost loved ones they have never met.

There isn't much of a chance the victim is going to see our sympathies anyway. Unless we somehow procure his or her cellphone number, which apparently some do, we're expressing grief and pain for the benefit of our friends and families, not for the victims of a tragedy.

Or, really, we're expressing it for ourselves—to show the world our sensitivity and our humanity. We immerse ourselves in ectype pain and then treat normal human responses to these enforced emotional tests as badges of honor. We've convinced ourselves that these adventures into the darkest moments of others lives' are a way to honor them, and to honor humanity in general. We put our compassion on display in a Facebook post. We turn grief into a shibboleth for humanity. We stare at someone else's death and then tell others to do the same. It's porn we can share, because demonstrates our compassion. If only porn porn were so lucky.

[ijack]

I've never really understand why people share this kind of stuff. It's one thing if there is a reason behind it (fundraising or whatever), but to just share because it's sad is weird to me. I don't want to watch a dad sing to his dying son and I don't feel the need to share with my friends that I just sobbed because of something like that and everyone else should sob too.

[pixy0stix]

The real reason I pulled down my blog is because I received well over 3k hits on one of my blog posts that I wrote after ZB died. They came from a couple of different message boards, all private. I decided I didn't want to be displayed like that.

I'm not criticizing what others do. I think this article does well in expressing the conflicting emotions that I have about this subject. Being the focus of such attention is hard. You want to acknowledge that you care that everyone around you cares, but when it moves outside of your immediate sphere of influence... you start to wonder just how much of it is you becoming grief porn. (I've actually said that phrase to a couple of people when talking about this phenomena.)

[jlt19]

Since you posted this, I'm very interested to hear your thoughts on it. I don't think someone in my position can have a valid opinion really. Or, more so, I can have an opinion, but it doesn't matter. Only those truly affected matter.

ETA: I was writing my post as you were writing yours.

I imagine that was an odd feeling, to see that so many people knew about your situation. But it also shows that that's how many lives you and ZB touched. Yes, I'm sure there were a few that just clicked out of morbid curiosity, but please know that a lot of us, even those that aren't "regulars" have followed your journey from before she was born and felt we "knew" her and you and were genuinely interested in how you were doing, but felt it uncouth to ask.

[pixy0stix]

I think, if the family is using their grief as part of their activism, then it is totally ok to share and comment.

In this case... His baby died in the video. His baby DIED and people were sharing it without a care. It bothers me. A lot. Who knows why the video was posted in the first place. Maybe it was an accidental automatic upload. Maybe he did it to share with family and friends. But then strangers got a hold of it and started sharing. AND THEY TEXTED HIM! They inserted *their* grief into his very private grief. They made HIS grief about THEM. That's wrong. So very very wrong. So wrong that it hurts me to my core. I ache for this man who suddenly has to be extremely gracious when he has lost his whole world.

[thebreakfastclub]

My 6 year old nephew died of cancer 2 weeks ago. My BIL has been very active on facebook and his blog, in the 4 years since the diagnosis. Over 1200 people attended the 2 day viewing, which was in a church gym.

My SIL estimated that about 20% of those were people she'd never met and who were connected through the family on-line. She also had mixed feelings about the attention, while being grateful for the support.

One thing that makes it tough for the parents is that my BIL really seeks out the community experience, and always has, while my SIL is more reserved.

[pixy0stix]

I should clarify that my above statements had nothing to do with GBCN (or the other groups I'm part of). I felt no intrusion there.

It was the complete randoms that I couldn't figure out where the common connection was that upset me.

[jeaniebueller]

I don't know how I feel about this. I am very private about my grief and you will rarely see me discuss my DD either here or on my FB page or in IRL. I had many well meaning people make passive aggressive comments on their FB page referencing the loss of my DD and it made me very uncomfortable, as well as well meaning family members tagging me in their grief posts. I didn't like it, it felt like my privacy and feelings were being violated. BUT when I was in the thick of it, I didn't mind knowing that people I hadn't even met were praying for us, thinking good thoughts, etc. and it felt like a source of strength. Not knowing how that father's video became public, whether he put it out there or a family member or friend who shouldn't have put it out there, I don't know what to say. I also hesitate to share videos of others and grief though for that reason and that I don't like people making other people's grief about me.

[FloFTW]

I have to hide the grief porn sharers. I understand and accept that the people that share it are having real emotional responses and want to feel part of it and feel the need to share it, but that emotional response is not the same for me. It just makes me sort of angry and uncomfortable.

I guess I'm throwing in my opinion on this because that specific video, of the preemie dying, was just the last straw for me. It was over the top even without putting any personal emotions into it, but both my kids were preemies because I almost died. And my husband sings. That could have been us.

But anyway, the people that share these kinds of things do it all the fucking time. This kid or that kid just died of cancer. That damn photo of a dad taking photos with his little girl that match the photos of him with his dead wife.

I don't like it. I don't want to see it.

[pixy0stix]

Right. It's just so... balled up.

Even now I'm choosing my words carefully because I don't want to alienate anyone because I still tremendously need support. Plus, again, I didn't really feel that from here. BUT omg, there was just so much happening all at once, and you're trying to process everything and... yeah.

I can't believe complete random strangers found his telephone number and texted him. WTF!

[FloFTW]

LIKE LITERALLY RIGHT NOW, one of my friends just liked "Horrific crash kills family on 'dream trip' to Disney."

WHY would you like that. WHY.

[eponinepontmercy]

I didn't understand why that video was all over the place. I feel terrible for that man to have to go through that and then have perfect strangers think they have some kind of place in his life, as though randoms texts are going to make him feel better.

These things used to be private moments; ways for a family or friends to remember loved ones. Now, they are put out for entertainment. I mean, why is that video news? It's tragic and sweet, but it wasn't meant for mass consumption.

[runforrest]

It really is too much. And while some people may truly feel some emotions over these types of posts, I think a lot of it is people patting themselves on the back bc they shared the post and/or bc they "felt" something or sympathized with the grieving party.

Idk. It just rubs me the wrong way.

[penguingrrl]

I have never understood why people feel it's appropriate to share those things with the world. I think that moment was what should have been the most private moment in his life for that father and don't feel comfortable watching it (and have not watched it). I generally assume people want privacy in their grief and that there is no need or reason to intrude on that any more than invited to. I can't imagine what would go through people's heads to seek his phone number and text him.

[ttt]

Nov 21, 2014 16:01:39 GMT -5 pixy0stix said:

I think, if the family is using their grief as part of their activism, then it is totally ok to share and comment.

In this case... His baby died in the video. His baby DIED and people were sharing it without a care. It bothers me. A lot. Who knows why the video was posted in the first place. Maybe it was an accidental automatic upload. Maybe he did it to share with family and friends. But then strangers got a hold of it and started sharing. AND THEY TEXTED HIM! They inserted *their* grief into his very private grief. They made HIS grief about THEM. That's wrong. So very very wrong. So wrong that it hurts me to my core. I ache for this man who suddenly has to be extremely gracious when he has lost his whole world.

This is what I find so upsetting about some of these stories. I cannot believe total strangers were calling and texting this man. Send a card, if you feel so moved to contact him and share your sympathy, but don't impose on his time and make him be social towards you during the worst time of his entire life. Come on. This is when people are doing what makes *them* feel better rather than what they really think will make the grieving person feel better. 

[Scout'sHonor]

Unfortunately, there are people who revel in others' tragedies and with being so connected these days, it's too easy to share that. My MIL is like this and points out every hardship a person has faced when she talks about them. Like, it's a modifier for her, "Aunt So-and-so, who's first husband beat her..."

pixy0stix, your comment about the balance for needing privacy versus needing support is very eye-opening. I will admit to probably overwhelming people with offers of support, when I should just let them know once and step back. I appreciate your view on this.

[pamela]

I'm glad I'm not the only on skeeved out in some way by these type of posts. I was starting to think maybe my thinking was off, but really, it's no different than rubber necking at an awful wreck where you can see that someone died.

[sangria]

I've honestly almost quit FB a few times because I'll be scrolling through my newsfeed only to come across this, and many many stories like it that people feel compelled to share.

WHY? Why are you sharing this? I don't understand it and it makes me uncomfortable. It's just so fucking prevalent now, that even if I quit Facebook it doesn't matter because you know that anything that goes viral with be showing up and talked about everywhere.

[cattledogkisses]

Nov 21, 2014 16:28:19 GMT -5 @gracechen said:

I am so weirded out that strangers texted him.  OMG, what?!?  =/

I didn't watch the video and don't plan on it. That moment is so personal and intimate and I don't feel comfortable watching it.

I recently watched one of those videos where a military service person comes back from an overseas assignment and surprises their kid at school and I cried my eyes out and then felt weird about it, like I invaded on a private moment. It was on the CNN front page, so it wasn't something that I sought out. It was a beautiful and happy video, but as a private person, I felt a little conflicted. I am also an ISFP, so consider that, too. LOL

I'm probably not explaining myself well here, but overall, if others view these videos I don't take issue with it. But, personally, I can't.

I've posted about how some of my family members keep reposting photos from H's homecomings, which showcase some intense emotions, and how weird it feels to see complete strangers comment on what, to me, were very personal, intimate moments. And those were happy moments! I can't imagine what it would be like to have grief, which is a far more complex and painful emotion, shared with the masses. I'll insert the caveat that every person is different, but I imagine that for me it would feel incredibly intrusive. 

I cannot believe that people texted him! Boundaries! Learn them!

[ttt]

Nov 21, 2014 17:09:50 GMT -5 @mrsbecky said:

Nov 21, 2014 16:48:03 GMT -5 ttt said:

This is what I find so upsetting about some of these stories. I cannot believe total strangers were calling and texting this man. Send a card, if you feel so moved to contact him and share your sympathy, but don't impose on his time and make him be social towards you during the worst time of his entire life. Come on. This is when people are doing what makes *them* feel better rather than what they really think will make the grieving person feel better. 

I think this is so much of why it upsets me. People are taking this unbelievably personal and painful moment and making it about them, turning it into something that is about them, sharing it or contacting him etc to help make themselves feel better.....or something.

I didn't watch the video of the premie dying; I just couldn't do it emotionally, but I also didn't want to be part of his "grief going viral."

I do not understand the appeal of watching a video of a baby dying. Why would anyone want to watch that?? 

[jln]

I think, for a lot of people, there is such a disconnect with losing a child or a loved one that close to you. Many people can not fathom what that would be like so it becomes not something they're necessarily actively fearful of, but more intrigued or curious (can't think of a better word) by what someone going through that is feeling. I hope that makes sense.

[kershnic]

I've heard a similar complaint (discussion?) levied against the mass crowds that show up when a young person dies also. Especially situations like where a teenager commits suicide, and maybe wasn't such a popular kid in life - but then everyone who treated him or her badly is there crying at the funeral. When it goes too far it feels like the people responding are worrying about themselves and their own loved ones, and no longer actually grieving for the people in real pain.

[katfco]

Nov 21, 2014 16:58:56 GMT -5 pamela said:

I'm glad I'm not the only on skeeved out in some way by these type of posts. I was starting to think maybe my thinking was off, but really, it's no different than rubber necking at an awful wreck where you can see that someone died.

I think you hit the nail on the head right there. It's a combination of people have a fascination with being entertained by tragedy and this missing sense of personal privacy that's so prevalent lately. 

I didn't watch the video, and now, knowing the baby actually died in it, I'm so glad. While I remember when Abby was born, knowing her story was being shared to hundreds of strangers was personally comforting to me. But I can't imagine everyone seeing such a horrible, intimate moment. 

[heyjude]

I really don't like any of these posts. And it's always the same type of person who shares them, right?

I blame upworthy. I can't watch or read anything that says:

"Watch this man...mom...child...do the unthinkable..." Or whatever. They are ALL schmaltz. And I ignore them all.

The drama/tragedy porn has been a problem for awhile. It seems to be the modern era's version of a "freak show."

A couple years ago Gawker did a really intersting/sad/depressing article about a horribly genetically disfigured young girl and how she became an Internet meme and what that did to her life.

I just can't with the dad and the baby. Can't. It's not appropraite for me to witness as a nobody to his life. And that song? Oh I can't. When my mom was so terribly sick with cancer and we weren't sure what was going to happen and we were huddled in her hospital room, a roving volunteer guitarist played blackbird for us and that song is forever changed for me.

People need to think about what they share. That dad can share whatever he wants but all the millions of others need to think long and hard.

I go back to blaming upworthy. They traffic in this stuff and give others a cover to do the same.

[statlerwaldorf]

Nov 21, 2014 18:51:47 GMT -5 gravytrain225 said:

 I also despise the pictures of abused dogs and other animals that randomly show up on my newsfeed.

I never got the point of these.  Is there someone that sees that and decides not to abuse their dog?  I wonder if it does more harm that good.  Like some abusive asshole sees it and thinks that the way he abuses his dog is not that bad since his dog isn't as messed up as the dog in the picture.

[FloFTW]

It is 9:30 and I am just now about to bake a birthday cake.

ETA: LOL best wrong-thread-post ever.

[UMaineTeach]

Nov 21, 2014 16:02:19 GMT -5 thebreakfastclub said:

One thing that makes it tough for the parents is that my BIL really seeks out the community experience, and always has, while my SIL is more reserved.

There is a family nearby who lost a child this summer. It has been interesting to see how each parent has reacted to the community support, the attention, and the grief. Mom needed to stay home and not see anyone who didn't live with her and dad needed to get out of the house and talk with people about everyday things and attend all the football games his son wasn't playing in. Mom pours her grief into FB and her blog and dad pours his grief into the memorial fund he set up for awareness of what took his son's life and the causes his son believed in.


I was/am proud of the town for staying on the sane side of "bench and tree" territory, but there were times I felt like it might be close to crossing the line.

[wysiwyg]

Nov 21, 2014 19:46:22 GMT -5 heyjude said:

I really don't like any of these posts. And it's always the same type of person who shares them, right?

I blame upworthy. I can't watch or read anything that says:

"Watch this man...mom...child...do the unthinkable..." Or whatever. They are ALL schmaltz. And I ignore them all.

The drama/tragedy porn has been a problem for awhile. It seems to be the modern era's version of a "freak show."

A couple years ago Gawker did a really intersting/sad/depressing article about a horribly genetically disfigured young girl and how she became an Internet meme and what that did to her life.

I just can't with the dad and the baby. Can't. It's not appropraite for me to witness as a nobody to his life. And that song? Oh I can't. When my mom was so terribly sick with cancer and we weren't sure what was going to happen and we were huddled in her hospital room, a roving volunteer guitarist played blackbird for us and that song is forever changed for me.

People need to think about what they share. That dad can share whatever he wants but all the millions of others need to think long and hard.

I go back to blaming upworthy. They traffic in this stuff and give others a cover to do the same.

Upworthy always stuck me as the type of website that feeds off making people feel good about feeling bad. "Gee, I liked and shared this video! I did something! It gave me feelings about things!" 

I just find the whole grief porn thing gross.