After Watching a Press Conference About a Seismic Intensity 7 Earthquake, I Wondered: Do We Really Need to Get Rid of Every “Toxic” Journalist?

The extent of the damage from the Kumamoto earthquake is gradually becoming clearer.

It is heartbreaking that lives were lost. Still, considering that the earthquake registered the maximum level of 7 on Japan’s seismic intensity scale, perhaps the damage was less severe than the worst-case scenario many had feared.

Amid the coverage, one press conference drew considerable attention online.

At a shopping mall, several employees had died in an explosion believed to have been caused by a gas leak following the earthquake. During a press conference held by the president of the company that operated the mall, one reporter questioned him in a particularly harsh tone.

“Why did the gas leak occur?”

“Why couldn’t it have been prevented?”

Most of the online reaction was predictable:

“This was a level 7 earthquake.”

“What is the point of asking that now?”

“The investigation is not even complete. Stop blaming him.”

I also doubt that asking those questions at that moment could have produced any useful answers.

The immediate priorities should have been securing the site and investigating the cause. Pressuring the company president at a press conference would neither bring the victims back nor reveal what had caused the accident.

But It Still Made Me Wonder

“We would be better off without reporters like that.”

Would we really?

I do not think the questions were appropriate in this particular situation. But as I watched the exchange, another thought occurred to me.

What would happen if every journalist in Japan who refused to read the room disappeared?

Japan’s Mainstream Media Has a Structural Weakness

Japan’s major newspapers and television networks operate within a system of press clubs known as kisha clubs.

A kisha club is a self-organized group of reporters assigned to cover a particular institution, such as a government ministry, police headquarters, local government, court, or major business organization. Members often work from a press room at that institution and collectively arrange press conferences and briefings. This gives them a steady flow of official information and regular access to the people they cover.

The clubs are run by the media rather than the government. However, membership has traditionally centered on major newspapers, news agencies, and broadcasters. Freelancers, magazine writers, and other journalists outside the clubs have not always had the same access. Supporters argue that the system enables fast and accurate reporting, while critics say its closed nature can encourage uniform coverage and overly close relationships with sources.

For reporters working within this system, maintaining relationships with government ministries, public agencies, and the police is important. Naturally, they want to avoid losing access.

That is not inherently wrong. Trust and working relationships are necessary for obtaining accurate information.

But the system can also create an unconscious brake:

“Would this question be going too far?”

If a journalist loses access, future reporting becomes much more difficult.

Some Media Outlets Carry Poison

This is where certain weekly magazines and independent media outlets enter the picture.

They can be tasteless. Their language can be harsh. They often use sensational headlines and are frequently accused of chasing page views or circulation.

There is some truth to that criticism.

Yet history also shows that these outlets have sometimes been the first to uncover stories that mainstream media had avoided for years.

Political corruption.

Corporate misconduct.

Sexual abuse concealed for decades.

Some stories were initially dismissed as irresponsible or vulgar, only to be proven true later.

In other words, such media can be both poison and medicine.

Poison Is Dangerous, but Over-Sanitizing Society Can Make It Rot

I am not defending yellow journalism.

Reporting that neglects fact-checking, personal attacks, and excessive public shaming should all be criticized.

But what would happen if we removed every trace of poison from society?

Only mainstream media would remain. Only reporters who knew how to read the room would remain.

“This is difficult to ask, so perhaps we should leave it alone this time.”

Who would feel safest in a world where every journalist made that choice?

Those in power.

They might be politicians, major corporations, or government agencies.

Democracy does not always function well when everyone is polite and agreeable.

Someone has to break the mood, accept being disliked, and sometimes pursue an issue with such persistence that they come close to crossing the line.

It is partly because this kind of poison exists in society that powerful people continue to feel that someone is watching them.

Of course, poison can harm people when mishandled. It must be criticized, challenged in court when necessary, and sometimes driven out.

Even so, I believe that a society from which all of that poison has been removed may be even more dangerous.

It is easy to say that society does not need poison. But in a society without a single drop of it, the people who usually sleep most peacefully are those who hold power.