We cannot live by hard news alone, declares Vanessa Richmond. Cartoon by Reg Lynch 

“You’re the problem,” a male friend told me sternly a few weeks ago. I’m why the rich are getting richer and poor are getting poorer, why political apathy abounds, why environmental catastrophe looms. Because I, and people like me, read pop-culture stories – celebrity stories in particular. And because that’s what more and more media are covering instead of what they “should” be doing (politics, the economy and international affairs). Hence, society is going to hell in a handbasket.

His criticism is equivalent to what gets posted in the comments sections of news sites after almost any pop-culture story. After blogger Emily Gould’s article “Exposed” ran in The New York Times Magazine recently about the emotional trauma she experienced as a result of sharing too much of her and her friends’ lives online, many comments were variations on these ones: “Why is this important to me?” and “I expect more from The New York Times.”

Sure, it’s true that there’s no shortage of real, crucial issues. And I do read ‘serious’ stories about them every day. But I am proud to say my reading diet includes far more stories that are considered to be the journalistic equivalent of genetically modified candy corn.

I’m hardly alone. The readership figures for pop-culture stories are skyrocketing while those of traditional news and newspapers are on the decline. It’s not just democracy – readers voting with their clicks – that has convinced me of pop culture’s worth. I think much-maligned celebrity “gossip” pieces can provide a rich forum for values debates. So I’m proud to say I know as much about the Greek drama of celebrity life as I do about the sub-prime crisis or the cost of oil. And I consider them not candy, but flavourful parts of the main course.

Pop-culture journalism is like a misunderstood blonde friend who seems air-headed but gets the best marks in school, is the most fun to hang out with and the liveliest to talk to. That New York Times article by Emily Gould, published on a Sunday, had 1212 comments by noon on Monday. The most popular political op-ed had 102. That’s not unusual.

And that pattern plays out in the real world, in my experience. Recently, at a dinner with some friends, I mentioned a story I’d read that listed “hippy-crite” celebs – ones who say they’re concerned about the environment but whose actions suggest otherwise. John Travolta says “everyone can do their bit” when it comes to global warming, but travels alone in his 150-passenger jet. Madonna headlined the Live Earth concert in London but has $2 million invested in mining and oil companies. Brad Pitt spearheads a green reconstruction project in the Hurricane Katrina-stricken Lower 9th Ward of New Orleans – but flies in his private jet to and from meetings there.

The conversation about the environment, policy and personal responsibility lasted most of the evening. What are the worst environmental offences? What’s inexcusable and what’s unavoidable? What should governments be doing and what’s up to the individual?

Even the Emily Gould article is about the costs, benefits and limits of free speech, about censorship and privacy, about ethics in journalism. Did she go too far? What is too far? That’s what people talk about.

Or how about reports that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt bought a $60-million chateau in France: the perfect spot to welcome twins into the world. Mention the declining birth rate in developed countries, or the fact that the housing affordability crisis means many people are finding breeding just too expensive and you’ll get a few polite nods. But mention Brangelina’s recent purchase, along with the fact that each of their children has a personal nanny and people shout over each other to weigh in. People talk about the cost of children and the consumerism around it. Some say it’s wrong for a mother of four young kids to star in three movies this year – or to constantly uproot the kids as she does so.

In response to these stories, people I know talk about the value of marriage, of the ethics of having children versus adoption in an overpopulated world, of the difficulty of being a single parent, about a woman’s right to choose when she has kids and how, about child care and about men’s role in raising kids.

I mention this to people who doubt the complexity of the values debate spurred by celebrities and they tend not to believe me. But the same or even more heated arguments transpire – verbally and on news sites and blogs – than political ones between insider politicos. But while pop-culture readers accept that news readers cross into their territory, the opposite doesn’t necessarily apply.

In fact, most of the people who are critical of my reading tendencies would be horrified to hear they’re being sexist or elitist – but that’s often the case. One friend who says that every time he sees a tabloid he throws it in the garbage, acknowledges that men may read about sports, but says celebrities are far worse and thinks women are slaves to powerful media companies (gosh). Another friend said that with two university degrees, I’m capable of understanding the news (read: unlike some people) so I don’t need to spend my time on trash. He meant well, but doesn’t see his own bias.

Talking about patterns in pop culture is at least as useful a vehicle for social criticism as pure politics. It is politics. It’s also democratic. Pop culture is popular not because it’s dumb, but because it’s usually about the crucial questions of life and society, told with interesting characters and a constantly updating, suspenseful storyline.

Do I think all celebrity stories are valid and true? Well, I don’t tend to trust anything with unnamed sources – in news or pop culture. Do I think more media sites will publish only high-readership pieces and ignore news? Well, if they do, they’ll lack credibility and lose readers who want a balanced diet. And don’t tell me that I can’t sample tabloid journalism without becoming its dupe. Some critical distance is necessary when imbibing any form of journalism.

Do I think the current methods of gathering celeb news are okay? I have to admit that, like my other omnivorous eating habits, I eat meat but don’t actually kill the animal myself. I’ve never stalked a celebrity or hung out with the paparazzi, and I don’t plan to. In fact, I find the idea distasteful and would prefer that there were more ethical standards in place.

And as Lara Cohen, the news director at Us Weekly pointed out in her recent piece “Who are You Calling a Tabloid?”, political writers aren’t exactly angelic. “To say the news media’s coverage of [Barack Obama’s former pastor] Reverend Wright has been exhaustive is like saying that Us was mildly interested in Brad Pitt’s split from Jennifer Aniston. The true hallmark of sensationalised journalism is ginning-up controversy to drive sales. Wright’s outbursts were the mainstream media’s equivalent of Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah’s couch – a train wreck no-one could turn away from. And so they milked it, regardless of the impact on the very race they were supposedly covering objectively.”

At least I know what I’m eating.

Vanessa Richmond is a columnist and contributing editor with Canadian news site The Tyee
Reg Lynch is a freelance cartoonist