Too Much Is a Problem, Too Little Is a Problem—Someone Is Always Crying Out in Distress on TV

I was watching a Japanese TV infotainment show when I could not help but smile wryly.

“The number of Chinese tourists is falling, leaving tourist destinations and hotels in distress.”

…Wait a minute.

Wasn’t the same kind of show saying this not long ago?

“Foreign tourists are flooding in, and local residents are suffering from overtourism.”

When the number rises, the problems are “crowding,” “bad manners,” and “the impact on residents’ daily lives.”

When it falls, the problems are “declining sales,” “hotels in trouble,” and “tourist destinations in distress.”

So which is better: more Chinese tourists or fewer?

Apparently, in the world of TV infotainment shows, either an increase or a decrease is a problem.

The Same Thing Is Happening with Rice

I see exactly the same pattern in recent news coverage of rice.

When rice prices were soaring, the reports came day after day:

“It’s too expensive to buy.”

“Household budgets are being hit hard.”

“Consumers are crying out in distress.”

But as soon as rice prices begin to move downward, the story changes to:

“Farmers cannot survive at this price.”

“Producers are crying out in distress.”

Hold on a second.

Whose side are you actually on?

When rice is expensive, consumers suffer.

When rice is cheap, farmers suffer.

When the number of Chinese tourists rises, residents suffer.

When it falls, tourism businesses suffer.

No matter which way things go, someone loses out.

And every time, the television cameras dutifully find those “people in distress.”

What TV Infotainment Shows Need Is Not a “Fair Price”

Of course, in reality, people occupy different positions.

Some profit from an increase in tourists, while others are inconvenienced by the crowds.

Cheaper rice helps consumers but is hard on producers.

That much is obvious.

What is interesting is that TV infotainment shows point their cameras at whichever side is “in distress” at that particular moment.

Because these statements do not make much of a television program:

“Rice prices have settled within a reasonable range.”

“Tourist numbers are at a broadly appropriate level.”

It makes better television to have someone say:

“We can’t take any more.”

So when a number rises, they look for victims of the increase; when it falls, they look for victims of the decrease.

For television, what matters is not whether something rises or falls.

What matters is that, whichever way it moves, there is a “cry of distress” to capture.

That Is Why Television Has No Conclusion

An online commentator can take a position and say, “I prioritize consumers’ interests,” or “I place greater importance on protecting farmers.”

Television does not have it so easy.

It has to serve a broad audience while also taking fairness in broadcasting into account.

As a result, footage showing that “people here are suffering” is easier to use than an argument that “this is what we should do.”

Yesterday, it was consumers.

Today, it is farmers.

Last year, it was local residents.

This year, it is tourism businesses.

At first glance, it seems utterly unprincipled.

But in fact, there is one guiding principle that has remained completely consistent all along.

Television is not on the side of consumers, farmers, or local residents.

It has always been on the side of ratings.

Seen that way, the strange pattern of reporting—cries of distress when numbers rise and cries of distress when they fall—is remarkably consistent.