Covering Trauma in Canadian Journalism

Abstract

This critical ethnographic study is an investigation of the effects of witnessing trauma for Canadian journalists and photojournalists working on national and international assignments. Our primary aim is to describe our participants’ understanding of the effects of covering trauma, disaster, or conflict within a journalism culture. Our findings are derived from in-depth interviews and workplace observations with journalists across Canada. Of specific note are the tensions that exist between the journalists’ beliefs about appropriate practices within the culture of journalism and their personal experiences in the field. These tensions may exacerbate negative effects of witnessing human violence and suffering. Articulating and exploring these tensions may contribute to our understanding of the use and type of support needed and desired by news workers both in and out of the newsroom.

Keywords

journalists photojournalists trauma journalism culture news media

“To be honest with you, I’m wondering what the cost of this work is . . . I’m starting to come to the conclusion that maybe this stuff really is getting to me . . . I guess some days I don’t know how much more I can do it.”

Journalists and photojournalists generally understand that it is their duty to enter into trauma situations to report or photograph what is happening, so that the story of these events can be conveyed to the public and the voices of the subjects can be heard. At the same time, though, their ability to remain unscathed by these events is sometimes beyond their control, and the personal repercussions of their work can be significant. For example, one journalist explains,

I have made a talent out of being able to bear any burden . . . I have managed it perfectly up until now, and now it’s starting—the lid just feels like it’s lifting up a bit. So, I’m starting to have a slightly different opinion. I mean, I think I always knew that was one of the risks but, I guess, combined with other things in my life, it’s maybe not such a great talent after all. It is in terms of a professional accomplishment, but maybe not for [being] a whole person.

This journalist describes a feeling of tension between the unspoken yet expected behavior of a professional journalist and the impact of that behavior on him as a person. It is almost as if he must make a choice between doing his job and taking care of himself, neither of which is an activity he can abandon; thus, he struggles with the turmoil of this stress.

In this article we present two interwoven stories: the effects on journalists of trauma reporting, and the tensions within the culture of journalism. In doing so, we hope to emphasize how tensions between these stories might influence the freedom that journalists and photojournalists have in seeking support and assistance when they need it. In particular, a central focus is on the cultural behaviors that may generate inflexible or disadvantageous attitudes toward help-seeking and self-care, which can restrict journalists from engaging in these activities.

Traumatic Stress in Journalism

As a foundation to understanding the primary effects of reporting trauma in a journalistic culture, we begin with a review of the literature on trauma and stress in journalism. There is strong research evidence that shows how journalists are impacted by their work specifically when covering news of disasters, war conflicts, and other traumatic events (Feinstein & Nicholson, 2005; Feinstein, Owen, & Blair, 2002; Keats & Buchanan, 2009; McMahon, 2001; Newman, Simpson, & Handschuh, 2003; Osofsky, Holloway, & Pickett, 2005; Pyevich, Newman, & Daleiden, 2003; Teegen & Grotsinkel, 2001; Weidmann, Fehm, & Fydrich, 2007). This research suggests that journalists’ experiences of trauma put them at risk for secondary traumatic stress (STS; Figley, 1995; Stamm, 1995), posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD; American Psychological Association [APA], 2000), and other types of effects such as job burnout, depression, and interpersonal difficulties (Backholm & Björkqvist, 2010; Collins, 2001; Kalter, 1999).

The literature on the secondary effects of trauma is definitive in that the cumulative effects of witnessing the trauma of others can potentially put the observer at risk for developing traumatic stress symptoms (Adams, Figley, & Boscarino, 2004; Buchanan, Anderson, Uhlemann, & Horwitz, 2006; Jenkins & Baird, 2002; Keats, 2005; Keats & Buchanan, 2009; Pearlman & McIan, 1995; Salston & Figley, 2003; Strupp & Casper, 2001). The population base for this evidence has been primarily mental health professionals, humanitarian aid workers, police officers, firefighters, and medical emergency personnel. Given that journalists witness many of the same events as these professionals, it is also important to engage in research on the traumatic secondary effects in the field of journalism (Johnson & Johnson, 2006; Keats & Buchanan, 2009).

The literature regarding PTSD among journalists is steadily increasing in the past 10 years. Empirical studies exploring PTSD include those focused on war correspondents (Feinstein & Nicholson, 2005; Feinstein, Owen, & Blair, 2002), journalists covering disasters (Cote & Simpson, 2000; Feinstein, 2004; Hallman, 2005; Strupp & Cosper, 2001; Weidmann et al., 2007), and general news reporters (Backholm & Björkqvist, 2010; Hatanaka et al., 2010; Marais & Stuart, 2005; McMahon, 2001; Newman et al., 2003; Pyevich et al., 2003; Simpson & Boggs, 1991; Teegen & Grotwinkel, 2001). In this literature, the reported prevalence of posttraumatic stress for journalists varies widely, often because of methodological differences. At the low end, Pyevich et al. (2003) reported a rate of 4.3% among a cohort of American newspaper journalists, while a lifetime rate as high as 29% has been recorded among war journalists (Feinstein et al., 2002; Ghaffar & Feinstein, 2005). It has been found that war correspondents (war photojournalists in particular) and local news reporters covering fatal car accidents, child deaths, and violence are most at risk for posttraumatic stress (Drummond, 2004; Frank, 2002; Norwood, Walsh, & Owen, 2003). Ghaffar and Feinstein (2005) investigated whether a particular type of journalism placed a journalist at more risk for developing PTSD. They found that photojournalists had more symptoms of PTSD and more physical health problems relative to other types of journalists because they were exposed to the greatest dangers and they were physically closer to the victims and survivors. Only two qualitative studies were found (Dworznik, 2006; Keats & Buchanan, 2009) that reported the effects of suppressing emotional reactions.

Some of these studies also stress that organizational factors and the culture of stoicism within journalism are most likely linked to the psychological and emotional stress reactions among journalists, including the risk of developing PTSD (Keats & Buchanan, 2009; Newman et al., 2003). Although journalists may experience comorbid symptoms of depression and substance abuse, these symptoms are often missed as possible symptoms of posttraumatic stress. Ghaffar and Feinstein (2005) explain that “While war journalists show higher rates of PTSD and major depression and drink more heavily, [their] data revealed that they were not more likely to have received psychological help for these conditions” (p. 2). According to a study conducted by Greenberg, Gould, Langston, and Brayne (2009), journalists were more likely to seek help from outside their place of work, if they sought it at all, and their attitudes toward institutional sources of formal support were ambivalent in comparison with their generally nonstigmatizing views on PTSD. As well, Simpson and Boggs (1991) reported a decade ago that approximately 50% of the reporters studied revealed that they had no preparation for the impact of their first traumatic assignment. Feinstein et al. (2002) suggest that this state of affairs speaks to a “culture of silence” (p. 1574) within the profession on issues of mental and physical well-being.

As described in the introduction, reporting the news entails long workdays, intense competition, and a fast work pace in the context of demanding deadlines. There is no doubt that journalism is a stressful profession that may lead to job burnout (Backholm & Björkqvist, 2010; Collins, 2001). The significant factors that predict burnout effects in general are occupations that are emotionally stressful, that have a perceived overload in work expectations, and that lack resources or work support for employees (Maslach, Schaufeli, & Leiter, 2001). The burnout effects consist of six main components: emotional exhaustion, depersonalization, a diminished sense of personal accomplishment in one’s job, physical exhaustion, cynicism, and ineffectiveness (Maslach & Leiter, 1997). All these elements are prominently at play in journalism work (Kalter, 1999). Kalter (1999), for example, reports that 40% of journalists experienced “job-related health problems ranging from insomnia to alcoholism and hypertension” (p. 30), and that job satisfaction among journalists has dropped steeply in recent decades, leading to an increase in early retirements. Over time, the cumulative effects of job-related stress take their toll and some journalists reach a point where they can no longer cope. Even though there is strong research evidence to support the construct of burnout, there is scant research on burnout effects among journalists (i.e., Backholm & Björkqvist, 2010; Cooks, Banks, & Turner, 1993; Kalter, 1999; Reinardy, 2006) and few anecdotal reports of stress and burnout in journalism literature (e.g., Cote & Simpson, 2000; Dworznik & Grubb, 2007; Fedler, 2004). Given what is known about the organizational stressors in news reporting and the predictors of burnout effects, it is probable that trauma-based journalists are particularly at risk for burnout effects.

Description of the Study

Primarily, we were interested in focusing on three key issues as part of this ethnographic study: (a) documenting the experiences of Canadian photojournalists and journalists who were exposed to trauma victims or survivors in national and international trauma, conflict, or disaster events, (b) exploring the effects of their exposure, and (c) understanding the connection between these effects and the culture of journalism. Through this investigation, we anticipated gaining a better understanding of the support journalists required and how they were affected by their work both in the short and long term.

We screened participants for levels of distress using the Impact of Events Scale-Revised (Weiss & Marmar, 1997) and collected data through interviewing 31 Canadian photojournalists and journalists who covered stories in the context of trauma, conflicts, and disasters. Our interview protocol included open-ended questions related to demographics, participants’ ideas about their role in journalism and descriptions of it, how they coped with stress (including preparations for trauma-based events, areas of key stress, changes in self from multiple exposure, and strategies of coping), descriptions of their relationship with colleagues, and ideas about help seeking (including beliefs, availability, avoidance), workplace issues (such as usual practices in trauma reporting or photography, ideas around reporting trauma events, and responses to their work from peers, managers, and the public). We then debriefed after the interview to check on distress levels and offered resources (e.g., Dart Center, counseling referrals, self-care resources). Additionally, six of these participants were followed for 1 to 4 days duringon-site observations in a variety of Canadian newsrooms.

Participants worked in both print and broadcast news and included 14 photojournalists and 17 journalists (both staff and freelance); 3 journalists were employed as editors and had worked on the front line for an average of 25 years. The ages of the 24 males and 7 females ranged from 28 to62 years, with a mean age of 41.5 years. Years of experience reporting in the field ranged from 4 to 36 years, with an average of 17.8 years.

Our analysis included transcribing verbatim the interviews and constructing detailed field notes from the on-site observations, then entering them into the MAX Qualitative Data Analysis software program (MAXqda, 1989-2007). This program allowed us to view all of our interview texts, write embedded memos, set up a code system by coding each text, and analyze the coded segments for categories and themes. Saldaña (2009) describes codes in qualitative research as words or short phrases that symbolically “represent and capture the datum’s primary content and essence” (p. 3); for example, belonging can be used as an in vivo code for a journalist who states, “Most photojournalists act that way because they want to be seen as belonging to the group.”

Once the texts have been coded in this way, similar codes can be grouped by shared characteristics into categories, which are named to reflect those characteristics either by a word or phrase; for example, coping with stress can be used as a category that includes codes related to needs and actions that participants described as ways of dealing with stress, such as belonging, exercise, or substance abuse. Finally, through analytical reflection on the content of each category, we constructed more abstract themes based on patterns, trends, or concepts that arose from these groups; for example, we noticed patterns in the rules that govern the behavior of journalists, and constructed a theme we named journalism culture. On this basis, we focus on two major themes: journalism culture and effects from covering trauma, conflict, and disaster.

Journalism Culture

In the course of this study, we noticed distinct cultural views arising from the journalists’ stories and through our observations in six Canadian newsrooms. Participants spoke about specific values, attitudes, behaviors, social nuances, and ways of being that characterized the group as unique. These cultural characteristics appeared to construct the limits and possibilities for how people expressed and worked with the field experiences they faced, how they interacted in relationship to each other, and how they achieved success in the profession. Specifically, there were three aspects of journalism culture that we highlight because of their relationship to the effects of reporting trauma: (a) silencing fears or behaviors that may be perceived as weakness, (b) defining who and what is successful in a journalism career, and (c) bowing to pressures related to extended work hours and types of assignments. In looking at these three aspects of the culture, we integrate these ideas with other authors in the literature.

First, journalists viewed displays of the negative impacts of witnessing trauma as a sign of weakness or a perceived inability to cope adequately. In the process of acculturation, they learned to suppress, silence, or ignore any impacts they experienced and to accept these impacts as a consequence of doing their work. Additionally, they understood that the responsibility for employee health and safety, as related to management, was neither enacted by nor required of their employer. Nonetheless, many participants expressed a hope or wish that management would be more understanding of their circumstances in the field. As an example, one photojournalist describes this perspective:

There are still plenty of prejudices out there . . . If people have a breakdown that is a sign of weakness. So, people will generally still hide things . . . As we get more and more educated about stuff, I think people are being more willing to come forward and say they indeed are afraid, or something’s happened, but it’s still very, very low on people’s agenda—especially if you’re a news executive; what they want is everybody willing to do everything. They really don’t want people turning down war zone coverage, and, ideally, to have people not bothered by it at all.

It is not surprising that in the context of these attitudes, journalists will struggle to conceptualize their reactions to trauma in a healthy way, and they will be hindered in their ability to digest, talk about, or seek assistance for their difficulties. This sentiment has commonly been reiterated by other authors. For example, Berrington and Jemphrey (2003) note that “it was widely felt that signs of an adverse reaction to reporting tragedy were open to interpretation by peers and editors as weakness—an inability to cope with the territory which goes with the job” (p. 241). As well, Feinstein et al. (2002) indicate that “ambition, coupled with a belief that war reporting enhances the career by giving a high media profile, left journalists reluctant to speak out about their fears and insecurities. Many chose to suffer in silence” (p. 1574). As evident here, silencing journalists’ distress is an integral part of the culture.

Second, further to the final quote above, participants recounted how the culture reflected and defined who became significant in news reporting. Most participants in our study noted that foreign assignments for both print and visual journalists were more highly lauded than local assignments. They described how journalists gained distinction through trauma-based work and in reporting war or conflict. All photojournalists spoke about their desire for foreign assignments or their goal of gaining paid work overseas. The significance of this perspective is important for a number of reasons. First, Greenwood and Smith (2007) reported how photographers on international assignments most frequently made pictures of human suffering, conflicts, and terrorism. Photographs depicting these types of violence rank highly in international photo competitions, such as Pictures of the Year International and the Pulitzer awards, and they comprise more than 65% of the winning photographs. Winning these types of awards has a very significant impact on a photojournalist’s career status, and it can increase the availability of opportunities for further work overseas. Second, not only is recognition as a foreign correspondent important among journalists but it also appears to be an important factor in how a journalist is ranked in the public eye. One journalist stated that the public “turned the foreign correspondents into celebrities . . . and then there is us [local journalists].” This was one of the most difficult aspects of the culture; not only is there significant competition for recognition among journalists in the newsroom but there is also competition for recognition by the reading and viewing public. This type of competition perpetuates the norm of risk-taking in getting a story or photograph in a dangerous environment. This issue is particularly important in a context where there is little institutional incentive or support for managing the possible consequences of this risk.

Participants described feelings of pressure to engage in extended work hours and difficult assignments as the norm in their business. According to Fedler (2004), the notion of extended, irregular hours has a long history in journalism culture. He writes, “They worked twelve or more hours a day, six days a week . . .” (p. 98). Our participants typically reported these same numbers. These long hours create stress for journalists, which often translates into poor eating habits, lack of rest, and unhealthy coping strategies such as excessive coffee, cigarettes, and other substances. Prolonged stress can also create other physical struggles for journalists to cope with. A myriad of research shows how detrimental constant stress can be (Maté, 2003), making it an issue that is necessary for journalists to address.

Stress may be created by the inability to refuse an assignment no matter what the circumstances. Journalists and management see refusing an assignment as unacceptable, as one experienced journalist explains:

There’s that underlying fear that if I say no, I’m going to lose my job, or not get promoted. It is unionized here, but if you refuse . . . you can be fired. So you can’t refuse an assignment. You can make a compelling case for why you shouldn’t go . . . but if you actually refuse and they don’t like you, of course then you can be fired.

This fear is particularly important in relationship to journalists and photographers who have had repeated experiences in foreign work and may be nearing the end of their career. As illustrated in the opening quote, cumulative trauma experiences may take a toll on journalists’ relationships, health, and quality of life.

Finally, we also noticed that the majority of our participants learned on-the-job (even if they had some educational training). Learning through experience allowed time for acculturation of novices into the spoken and unspoken values, beliefs, and behavioral expectations about how to engage in the professional practice of journalism as it relates to these very difficult trauma stories.

Types of Effects From Covering Trauma, Conflict, and Disaster

In this section, we present the various types of effects from covering trauma events as described by our participants. We did not formally assess our participants for psychiatric conditions such as posttraumatic stress disorder or acute stress disorder, or other conditions such as secondary traumatization or job burnout. Without these types of preassumptions, our interest was to hear how participants described the effects of their reporting. From this perspective, we found that their accounts of effects from their work fell into the following categories: psychological, emotional, cognitive, physical, and social/relational. To further understand the context in which these effects took place, we parallel the experiences of cultural restraints with the trauma effects.

Psychological Effects

Our data show that a large majority of participants reported symptoms that are similar to those experienced with secondary traumatic stress (STS) and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). As a screening measure, participants completed the Impact of Event Scale-Revised (Weiss & Marmar, 1997), a 22-item self-report questionnaire that measures the subjective distress of an event the participant experienced in the last 7 days prior to filling in the questionnaire. The response sets include aspects of intrusion, avoidance, and hyperarousal but is not a diagnostic for posttraumatic stress disorder. The participants in our study reported distressing events such as war-related trauma, kidnapping, homicides, suicides, work-related events, motor vehicle accidents, court arrests, family issues, child deaths, and illnesses. Out of the 31 participants in the study, 5 (16%) scored in the substantive distress range, 10 (32%) scored in the moderately distressed range, 9 (29%) were mildly distressed, and 7 (23%) scored in the subclinical range. A large percentage of participants (77%) experienced some degree of distress, whereas only a small percentage reported negligible distress (23%). Thus, from our interview data, we noted the similarity of participants who reported effects to STS and PTSD symptoms and so describe the effects using the three main symptom clusters of STS (Figley, 1995; Stamm, 1995) and PTSD (APA, 2000): intrusion, avoidance, and arousal.

Intrusion

This cluster of effects includes distressing memories or images of an incident, flashbacks (reliving the event), nightmares or dreams about other frightening themes around the event, and becoming upset or experiencing physical symptoms (e.g., sweating, heart racing, muscle tension) when reminded of an incident (APA, 2000).

In this study, flashbacks were reported by participants and described as uncontrollable, vivid, and detailed images, which “popped-up” regularly and unannounced either during the day or on waking up during the night. Many participants struggled to make sense of what was happening to them and subsequently questioned whether the flashbacks were normal or if they were making too much of these intrusive images. Some of the triggers leading to the flashbacks included certain smells, sounds, landmarks, and the colors and textures of food. For example, one photojournalist stated,

I’ve never told anybody this before but I still have a hard time eating tuna sushi because that was the color of [the corpse’s] skin. It was pale, white, and sort of vaguely fleshy . . . . That color, that tone, triggers it for me.

Another photojournalist was triggered by a particular smell that brought back a distressing moment as a flashback experience. He had a panic reaction to the flashback image and was left feeling shocked. He said,

It took me aback—I was totally taken by it . . . I didn’t expect it. I recognized the smell but I didn’t expect to have that kind of a reaction to the whole thing . . . . I worry sometimes that I create emotions by thinking . . . and this [image] really just came out of the blue and hit me right across the forehead.

From reports about intrusive images in this study, photojournalists reported them more often than journalists. Because they work in the world of images, they appear to have been more susceptible to these types of intrusions. As one photojournalist noted,

I was also having very, very vivid flashbacks. One particular incident was when I was looking at pictures of my children, and I wasn’t seeing my children, I was seeing images of children that I had filmed [after a massacre]. So, things were bubbling up pretty badly.

Some participants also reported experiencing nightmares. One journalist gives an account of the types of nightmares he had after spending an extended period of time in a war-torn country:

I would wake up and, literally, my entire bed would be soaking. I just couldn’t believe I was sweating so much . . . just horribly violent dreams. There’d be blood, and anxiety . . . . I’d always be waking up with my foot against the window, or I’d kick something at the end of my dream, and suddenly, I’d kick my TV, or I’d thrown myself out of bed . . . . It became pretty frightening actually.

Participants who described nightmares of this kind noted that they lasted for 4 to 8 months after a traumatic assignment. None sought help in managing this response. All participants who reported nightmares also reported questioning their mental health and being confused about what was happening to them.

Participants found they were unable to control their anxiety when thinking about and recalling trauma events. This lack of control was often experienced as “losing one’s mind”:

You’re anxious but you’re also, like, “who cares?” When I get anxious thinking about [the trauma], I have irregular breathing—the inability to take a deep breath and relax; I keep trying to keep it inside—I can’t . . . . I thought I might be losing my mind and not be able to work . . . . There was nothing I could do that would relax me.

Anxiety was described both as being tied to specific situations and as a general problem; it seemed to be an accepted consequence of the work. For example, one journalist describes her colleagues in the following way:

I had pre-existing depression. Having said that, a lot of these other journalists have pre-existing mood disorders as well, or addictions or alcoholism; they all have something. Almost all of them have anxiety. If they had it before, or they got it after, they all have it now.

Anxiety could be triggered in unexpected ways; for example, one journalist noted that turning on the television news when on holiday

has an effect on you. There’s sort of this inherent anxiety in it, even though it’s completely removed from your life and you have absolutely no control . . . .It just washes over you with this not particularly positive emotion. I really think that is traumatic.

Avoidance

The avoidance cluster includes trying to avoid any reminders of the trauma (e.g., thoughts, feelings, activities, places, people), having gaps in memory, losing interest in normal activities, feeling cutoff or detached from loved ones, feeling flat or numb, and having difficulty imagining a future (APA, 2000).

Many of the participants in this study underscored the need to detach or distance themselves from the horrific tragedies that they witnessed. As one participant describes, “I don’t think you can get too emotionally involved with what’s going on because I think you’ll be a basket case . . . . You almost become like a robot where you just relay the information.” According to the account of another participant,

It’s still tucked back there in a little box and I can still go back and think about it. I might not be able to talk about it, but I can think about it. I can just leave it there in the box, and don’t go back there.

A third stated, “I’m not thinking about the other things. And if they come up, yeah, I just package them in a box and put them in a corner and just don’t open that closet.” All three of these journalists find it difficult to deal with emotionally overwhelming events. It was common for them to isolate or put some kind of boundary around the experiences within themselves to cope.

Some participants also discussed feeling unmotivated, depressed, or numb, especially after coming home from difficult overseas assignments. One participant stated, “I was trying to numb the fear . . . the fear of the fact that these images were in my head. I was trying to get rid of these images;” another journalist reported, “I had these images from the suicide bombing . . . just constantly running through my head. I’d cry and I’d be okay for five minutes, and then I’d cry.” The struggle to be free of frightening and disturbing images was significant. This inner struggle sometimes found journalists seeking means such as drugs or alcohol to assist them in suppressing the memories. As one observed, for example, “I know an awful lot of people who have gotten messed up with drugs, messed up with alcohol, messed up with depression and mental illness, as a result of what they’ve done in their work.” Substance abuse as a means of coping appears to be more typical in this culture than seeking psychological assistance.

Some participants described experiences of dissociating during a traumatic event due to its overwhelming nature. For example, a journalist explains:

In that situation [of gunfire] . . . I remember saying to a reporter that [the insurgents] were warning—warning us and he looked at me, and said, “they were trying to kill you, don’t you get that? They were aiming at your head. It hit a foot above your head because they missed. Don’t you get that?” And I didn’t get it, I didn’t. I certainly didn’t walk away from it saying, “Shit, that was close; that was enough.”

In this case, the journalist was significantly detached from the reality of the situation he was in. In circumstances where journalists are dissociating, they are in grave danger because they are not reacting to the situation in a self-protective manner. Dissociation leaves them vulnerable to physical attack or emotional harm as indicated in the quote above.

Arousal

The arousal cluster includes general sleep disturbances, anger and irritability, concentration problems, hypervigilance for signs of danger, and an exaggerated startle response (APA, 2000).

Participants described their experiences of hyperarousal as the sense of being engaged, awake, and involved in life. However, it becomes overwhelming at times, as this journalist explains:

You’re all excited, hyper, hyper, hyper, and you see something absolutely atrocious and [you think] how am I going to deal with that? . . . . You’re awake, and you’re depressed, and you’re awake, and you’re depressed. And it pulls on you constantly . . . . I just couldn’t sort it out at the end anymore.

Journalists’ awareness of danger also extended into their lives with their families; for example, one journalist, who was a parent, talks about her response to her children’s normal activities:

I’m very aware that bad things could happen to them even though I know realistically that the chances are so remote. It’s just that I’ve covered way too many car accidents where kids have died, or abductions, or [things like] that.

It was common for participants to talk about this changed perception about the tenuous safety that they and their loved ones had in the world.

Emotional Effects

The most common emotional experiences reported were feelings of irritability, anger, and anxiety. These emotions were often connected to the isolation participants sometimes felt within the journalism culture; as one person stated, “No one is going to hold your hand [for support] here.” Irritability and anger was common; one photojournalist stated, for example, “I was angry. I would just erupt on people, to the point where if somebody was walking down the wrong side of the sidewalk . . . they’d get yelled at. I’d become completely unstable.” Another journalist describes anxiety this way:

I’m starting, actually, to get a bit of a level of anxiety that I’ve never known before in my life that’s sort of perpetual, recurrent, almost like a heart pain . . . . That’s the main consequence. I’m starting to think that there’s a bit of a cumulative effect. I don’t want it to continue to accumulate. I need to find a way to let some of the air out.

Feelings of irritability, anger, and anxiety may indicate that a journalist is getting “thin skinned” and becoming more emotionally sensitive and reactive due to frequent exposure to trauma; if unaddressed, these symptoms may exacerbate or create other significant difficulties (e.g., relationship issues, job loss). Also, irritability and anger appear to be more acceptable emotions in the culture of journalism, whereas sadness or distress are less so. Culturally, participants believed that crying was a sign of weakness and that tears must be controlled. As one journalist stated, “In the newsroom, anger is accepted and often expected, but sadness is not.” For photojournalists, the message was “participate in the technical processes so you never go too far into the emotional.” Many felt especially distressed when they cried; experiencing this reaction was a significant sign of loss of control. One photojournalist reflected this sentiment by referring to crying as something that happened to others; for himself the experience of tears was “. . . very unusual—my eyes watered up. Then they did it again about two hours after.”

It was also common for people to have delayed emotional responses. While in the field they were able to control their emotions to a certain degree; it was not until later, when they had personal space, did they react to the event. As another photojournalist explains,

When I said “I am not going to war zones anymore” it was as if all this stuff that had been kicking around was able to say “okay, here we go now—now it’s time for these memories to move to the foreground.” By going to a war zone, you’re exposing yourself to trauma again. You’re exposing yourself to real danger, so you don’t have to deal with past stuff because you’re getting new stuff all the time. When you don’t have that, I think your psyche is regenerating the trauma again. I think—like a lot of Vietnam veterans, when they fell apart is when they got back home.

Furthermore, when the cumulative impact of witnessing unraveled they described having unpredictable emotional outbursts, increased sensitivity, and feelings of despair and hopelessness. Many participants attempted to hold these emotional experiences at bay. For example, one participant stated,

Things can get so emotionally intense at times, so tragic, or so massively affecting that if I try to tell people about certain things, I can still start choking up the emotions that it brings back in me. So, I don’t [tell].

Furthermore, some participants found that the deep sadness diminished their capacity to derive enjoyment from their lives. This happened both immediately after a traumatic event and after an accumulation of events where participants felt emotionally drained or burned out.

In the most difficult situations, participants reported feelings of panic, being overwhelmed by what was happening, dread about what was coming next, or horror at what they witnessed. In these cases, some had a fear of death or of being harmed or injured. This often left them carrying the burden of witnessing alone. Some participants experienced a sense of inadequacy in the context of systemic failures that left people suffering and peoples’ dire needs unaddressed. In these cases, participants reported being on an “emotional roller coaster” where, on one hand, things would seem positive and exciting, and on the other, totally hopeless.

Finally, depression was a commonly reported experience. The adrenaline rush from the process of reporting a trauma or conflict event was attractive to participants, yet it left many with low energy levels once the event ended. Participants spoke about having difficulty functioning day to day, withdrawing from life, and occasionally feeling like they lacked a sense of life purpose. Experiencing depression was disconcerting as it impacted how they lived day to day. One journalist describes his experience this way:

I’m not alive in so many ways . . . . When I came home this last time, I was just horribly depressed. I wasn’t alive. There was just nothing to keep me going and also, ideologically, I had taken in a lot of what I had seen.

Even years after being in a conflict zone these effects were still present. As this photojournalist describes,

There are times when I feel—what’s the right word? Ennui—you know, an aimlessness—they don’t happen as frequently as they once did . . . but there are still some times when I don’t care, I don’t want to do anything, and I have always been a pretty driven fellow. To feel that way was very unsettling.

For those participants who reported feeling depressed, most struggled on their own to cope with it and few received a confirmed clinical diagnosis. It was usually a spouse or friend who would alert journalists to the problem and offer solutions, advice, or encouragement to seek help.

Cognitive Effects

A journalist described one of the expectations underlying her work: “We are supposed to be somewhat objective and dispassionate.” A photojournalist described another: “We are judged by what we do next, what we are going to come up with tomorrow; there is no time to sit on your laurels.” In an effort to fulfill these expectations, participants described attempts to emotionally detach from the experience while it was happening, to distance themselves from the trauma both in the field and back home, to forget what they had seen, and to minimize the experience as if it were not important. This participant describes how journalists minimize the reality of the trauma scene:

Journalists have a way we talk amongst ourselves. To a certain degree, it’s almost the way cops talk amongst themselves—there’s a sort of detachment. It’s like, “Did anybody die? No? It’s not a big story then.” Or “how many died?” If it’s over ten dead, then it’s a really big story, or over a hundred died, it’s a massive story.

Journalists learn to control emotions through how they think. One participant talks about this experience as a matter of staying “. . . in your head in some sense; whatever emotion is coming up you have to just swallow it and move on.” On the other hand, trying to create a separation between their emotions and thoughts in the context of their work had an unexpected consequence; for example, one journalist said, “My personality had been completely taken over by my work. In an effort to bolster my own self image, I was a journalist first and me second.” Another stated, “Sometimes I think shooting pictures is who I am, so I find it hard to divorce the job from who I am.” Both of these participants were concerned about their ability to control and limit their emotions and the subsequent effect of this limitation on the rest of their lives.

Furthermore, journalists spoke about seeing the world differently than family or friends, as this photojournalist explains: “You end up becoming pretty bitter and cynical about things.” Participants also noted that this was a common experience among peers: “We’re a very skeptical, cynical group,” one observed, and “we tend to be very cynical and self-contained people.” One journalist felt reluctant to spend time with his colleagues due to how cynical the group had become:

Journalists see the same thing all the time and so their view of the world isn’t how the rest of the world views the world . . . . It was totally skewed. For me it was a bit of an epiphany. I thought that I really shouldn’t hang out with photographers because all we are going to do is complain . . . “it’s us against the world, everybody hates us,” and I just don’t think it is healthy.

Another common struggle for journalists was trying to make sense of the trauma by ruminating about what they had seen, or if they had done the right thing at the time of the event. For example, one journalist working with a photographer stated, “I was with our photographer and we’ve kind of played this back quite a few times; you play back, ‘why did you react badly to that one as opposed to something else?’” Not only do these struggles to find answers happen for trauma situations specifically but also about life in general. As one photojournalist asks, “What are the answers to the inequities and indignities that I look at? What are the answers when I see people in Africa living off a dollar a day that can’t provide medicine and their children die?” This photojournalist’s sentiment reflects the commitment, responsibility, and obligation that journalists reported in relation to voicing the needs and perspectives of those who have little or no voice in deciding on or developing priorities for care.

Physical Effects

One journalist summarizes the cultural view around physical challenges: “Bite the bullet with everything that might be a problem.” This idea seemed to be applicable anywhere from the belief that time could not be taken to “eat lunch or take a break—just go, go, go,” to the expectation that a journalist would take significant physical risks or chances to cover a story (i.e., being attacked, threatened, risking death, experiencing injury or personal discomfort). Journalists note how job stress is the norm because the “journalism world is 24 hours a day.” This type of stress, combined with trauma reporting or photography seemed to create many physical struggles with illness or chronic health conditions. Problems reported by participants included, for example, fainting, hepatitis, mononucleosis, cancer, Crone’s disease, high blood pressure, minor strokes, heart attacks, and neck or back problems (or both). One journalist talked about his experience and its consequences:

I had a stroke; I didn’t lose anything. I’m very lucky. . . and the thing is my tool is my brain, my tool is my fingers, my tool is my eyes and if you mess with any of those things, you’re out of a job. [Stress] threatens your life, so that was a good warning to me.

Physicians advised some participants in our study to find other work as a result of the described problems, as this journalist relates, “I was diagnosed with acid reflux, and the first thing my doctor said, ‘You could find another line of work’ . . . . It’s no surprise that I would have things like that.” This resulting diagnosis and other problems around eating were perpetuated by not having time to attend to hunger so that journalists often found themselves eating convenience or fast food on the run. Fortunately for a number of journalists, health issues were solved by a more stable lifestyle, as this journalist describes, “A few days after [that event] I was in the hospital from exhaustion; I was totally undone . . . . It definitely taught me a lesson about looking after myself.” These often frightening experiences seemed to put individuals in a better position to better manage job demands.

In combination with stress and covering trauma, sleep disturbances were also very common. These struggles included having little time to sleep, ruminating about work experiences during the night, and not being able to rest due to anxiety, as this journalist describes:

I just had a steady diet of mayhem for four months straight, working too hard. I was a little bit sick . . . and one night I went to bed (the worst night), and I woke up about half an hour later just in a panic with heart pounding . . . . I thought I was losing my mind. I mean, all I could do to deal with it was walk around and then I was fine, right? As long as I kept pacing I was fine. I tried four or five times to go back to sleep and every time I lay down, I’d get this feeling of anxiety. Then I went to my bosses and I said, “Look, I can’t do this; I can’t work at this rate.”

As described above, one of the cultural codes is overworking to meet deadlines and cover breaking news. Additionally, some newsrooms have decreased the number of people able to cover what is required, leaving fewer people to do the same amount of work. Undoubtedly, this is taking its toll especially in combination with trauma reporting.

Depending on their assignments, many participants had been attacked or threatened on the job, or had fears about physical harm or even death because they were not always aware of what they would encounter (e.g., receiving death threats for covering particular criminal trials, or having depicted someone unfavorably in an article). Without exception, every participant interviewed experienced some kind of physical attack, with some being worse than others. Most journalists see these assaults as part of the job and they try to move on. It is also not uncommon for journalists to avoid talking about or debriefing these experiences with anyone.

Finally, most participants talked about the adrenaline rush they experienced during traumatic events. Some describe themselves as being addicted to the fast pace and high energy of the job as they work within these stressful situations along with the pressure to meet deadlines, as one journalist describes:

You’re so full of adrenalin; your head is just going through photo scenarios . . . you have zero time to process . . . and how it’s going to affect you, and what you’re actually seeing . . . . You have to run like a maniac because your editors want it on the website now . . . . And then you run, and you drive, and you download and you get the images out as soon as you can.

The desire for the adrenaline experience is a puzzling effect. On one hand, journalists can experience an incredibly fearful situation and on the other, when it is over, they may desire it again. Ian Stewart (2002) describes this in a unique way:

I was an adrenaline junkie getting high on the thrill of going to war zones and I didn’t want anyone else taking my fix. Wars were mine; I was guarding them like a heroin addict protecting his stash. It didn’t matter what promises I made to myself about keeping away from the front lines; my addictions seemed stronger than my dread. (p. 160)

The stress cycle includes the release of both adrenaline (response to threat) and endorphins (pain modulation). According to Scaer (2007), endorphins also inhibit conscious and unconscious self-protective responses that might interfere with effective survival behaviour (e.g., inhibiting the pain response so that the injured person can crawl to safety rather than taking the time to tend the bleeding wound). Endorphins are also linked with the brain’s reward mechanisms that produce an experience of pleasure. Thus he connects risk-taking behaviours associated with trauma reenactment (as Stewart describes above) with endorphin arousal.

Social and Relational Effects

Journalists described how relationships with family and friends suffered due to frequent exposure to trauma and human suffering. They often felt socially isolated and misunderstood because people did not want to hear their stories or could not grasp their experiences. A journalist explains, “There are no words to describe the kind of stuff that I saw because unless you’ve actually been there, you just won’t understand it.” This sense of isolation is often combined with feeling ignored when expressing what they witnessed. A photographer explains,

It was weird; these transitions are a bit strange . . . . I would come from a job in a remote location, with [poor] primitive people, and then I’m home at a wine-and-cheese party; . . . I’m standing in the corner feeling despondent. I don’t feel like I want to talk to anybody.

In terms of family, extended absences overseas left some participants feeling replaced and excluded, where the family seemed to have moved on in their absence. Reintegrating into, or being part of the family was difficult when combined with the demands of long hours, frequently missed family events, or feeling shaken from the types of events covered. In some cases, there was a desperation for maintained contact with family; for example, “I had [to have] a separation of work and the rest of my life; . . . I had to have friends. Work just took over as I just kept clawing to hang on to something.” Another journalist gives a similar account:

My wife and I were living in two different worlds . . . . I would go away on these trips . . . for four to six weeks sometimes, and I’d come back and I’d be like a complete stranger—a Martian. My family had continued to live a fairly happy and normal existence . . . whereas I was off looking at this awful stuff . . . . The compounding of the problem was I just couldn’t describe this stuff to my wife. So I stopped trying. I drank a lot, a lot; that helped . . . . My wife would describe me as distant, abrupt, drinking too much, removed from the family, and impatient . . . . I felt bad—I felt bad all the time especially when I was over there . . . . I felt bad when I was at home because I wasn’t doing my job [as a husband and father] and when I was on the job, I felt bad because I wasn’t at home.

This sentiment was reiterated by others: “I’m sure being away in dangerous places . . . does not help a difficult relationship. It’s just not the answer for helping people to stay together.” In these more extreme cases, journalists feel detached or cut off from people close to them.

Additionally, in learning to keep silent about their experiences, journalists believed that they could prevent family members or friends from worrying or feeling anxious about their work experiences, as this journalist stated: “I was most concerned about what talking about it would do for my wife and family the next time I had to go, and I just didn’t want to create anxiety for them.” Contrary to being a protective gesture for others, it created a greater distance and contributed to a loss of support for the journalist from people who were closest and most able to offer that support. This journalist states this point of view:

I used to come home and tell her all about it and then she would get stressed out. So then I stopped talking about it, which I think was much better for her. It was probably not better for me because then I lost one outlet to talk about it.

One aspect of potential long-term social consequences was participants’ challenges of fitting themselves into their more affluent culture (i.e., reverse culture shock). As a journalist explains, “I can’t share the Canadian life with Canadians in the same way I could before . . . so I just stick by myself.” In these types of cases, journalists seem to struggle with two different identities: one in a Canadian context, and the other in a Third World context. Descriptions of these (sometimes conflicting) identities reflected the different behaviors that journalists assimilated in different cultures as a way of adapting and surviving in multiple contexts.

Discussion

In reviewing the specific effects reported by our participants above, we see them as indicating assignment stress injury (ASI; Keats & Buchanan, 2009). This is an umbrella term that describes the broad range of injuries that the study participants described as a consequence of trauma assignments in the field and subsequent work in the newsroom with its added stress and demands. There were two key groups of injuries under this umbrella: acute conditions that interfere with daily functioning (such as emotional exhaustion or relationship struggles) and diagnosed psychiatric conditions (such as major depression or posttraumatic stress). There appears to be an intersection and relationship between these effects and the culture of journalism for people covering trauma and conflict.

Within the boundaries and possibilities of journalism culture, participants described assignment stress injuries as including both burnout (i.e., emotional or physical exhaustion, depersonalization, a diminished sense of personal accomplishment in one’s job, cynicism, and ineffectiveness) and organizational stress. Our findings are commensurate with the two studies reported in the literature by Collins (2001) and Kalter (1999). The participants in this study described the same work conditions of long workdays, intense competition, and demanding deadlines. As in Kalter’s study, our participants struggled with job-related health problems exacerbated by the expectations and attitudes within journalistic work that refusing an assignment is unacceptable and complaining about job-related stress is a sign of weakness or incompetence. As described here, organizational stressors in journalism have significant effects on journalists’ physical, emotional, cognitive, social, and psychological health. Both the lack of recognition of these work-related effects and the lack of support systems within news organizations compound the problem.

Our findings are also consistent with research in the literature on the effects of journalists reporting traumatic news events (Feinstein et al., 2002; Feinstein & Nicholson, 2005; McMahon, 2001; Pyevich et al., 2003; Simpson & Handschuh, 2003; Teegen & Grotwinkel, 2001). We found evidence that journalists suffer from intrusive imagery, avoidance behaviors, and increased arousal responses related to witnessing and, in some cases, experiencing traumatic events. Again, the combination of organizational factors and the attitude of stoicism contribute to health problems that place journalists at risk for developing STS and, in some cases, posttraumatic stress. Participants also reported depression and substance abuse; further research is needed to understand the relationship of these effects to STS and PTSD.

Through this exploration, we notice a number of struggles that raise questions for change. First, we were struck by how participants were unable to tell management or colleagues, and in some cases, family members and friends about the effects of their trauma-reporting experiences. We see this reluctance as a reflection of silencing within the culture. We wondered what elements would need to be in place to create a degree of freedom and safety for journalists to speak about their traumatic stress, burnout, and primary or secondary trauma effects in Canadian newsrooms. Second, the beliefs that journalist hold about journalistic culture and their role and identity as journalists or photojournalists appear to dismiss and devalue the reality of the effects of their field experiences. In this regard, we question how we might help in preventing the culture from limiting possibilities for repair and assistance. Finally, participants’ reports increased our awareness about the significant degree of tension between the collective cultural beliefs and values in journalism and the impact this has on its members as individuals. We would like to strive to add to the awareness of journalists’ mental health so that needed changes can continue to evolve and further support in the future can be developed. We attempt to address some of these ideas below.

Summary and Recommendations

In relationship to the safety around speaking about trauma effects, one journalist’s story highlighted the importance of collegial understanding. In this journalist’s account, he described a situation around a fatal car accident where both he and the police in attendance knew the victims. In this case, the police officer was openly expressing emotion, which somehow granted permission to the journalist to express his emotions as well. It was an emotional bonding for these two professionals, as indicated by his statement that he was “letting his guard down” when the police officer cried. This emotional expression gave them the ability to digest the reality of what had happened together, in the very moment that it was happening. Both professionals were able to fulfill their duties and benefited from expressing their emotions together. In general, we believe that this same sense of permission to express emotion needs to be present.

The outcome of research developed on other first-responder populations may be of benefit in the development of interventions for journalists and photojournalists exposed to trauma. In comparison to these first-responder groups we have a few cautionary notes. First, journalists are a specific type of frontline responder in traumatic situations; they respond for the public good in a vital and specific way (i.e., writing about or photographing the trauma). This calls for responsive and supportive assistance if needed. Second, interventions for other first-responder groups may not necessarily transfer to journalism because of the unique experiences and demands within this work. Because other professional cultures (e.g., military, police officers, firefighters, emergency personnel) embrace explicit assistance by offering training and organizational support for trauma exposure, journalism will likely progress in similar ways once awareness is established. For example, it is possible for managers and journalists to learn how to speak and listen to one another to create an environment of support and to challenge stoic attitudes by modeling or mentoring for effective communication.

As Palm, Polusny, and Follette (2004) suggest, “effective service delivery not only should include individual but also organizational considerations” (p. 74). In summary, we offer recommendations derived from suggestions from the participants in our study:

Education

Education becomes a key component for both management and journalists in understanding the effects of covering trauma and conflict. The more people understand burnout and trauma effects, such as those outlined above, the closer they will come to recognizing and making sense of what is happening to them. This type of education can take place on many levels, including journalism schools, articles prepared specifically for news workers, joint conferences between journalists and professional psychologists, and workshops for journalists in the newsroom as well as courses specifically for managers. Additionally, pamphlets, posters, websites, and other means of dissemination need to be developed and dispersed widely among news agencies and journalism schools. Research into the demand and utility of this type of education (e.g., Dworznik & Grubb, 2007) is still quite uncommon.

Considerations for the Culture of Journalism

As evidenced in the results of this study, the journalism culture limits the possibilities for what journalists can do. Consideration needs to be given to the workload, the high expectations for news production, the effects of the competitive nature of news gathering, and the prevalent attitudes about experiencing or expressing the impacts of witnessing trauma. Having permission to say “no” to a dangerous assignment without fear of job loss and ensuring that journalists have check-ins or rotating shifts in covering large, complex trauma events may contribute to shifting the way journalists are exposed to trauma. Offering occasional workshops on trauma and self-care may also normalize and address trauma effects.

Psychological and Social Support

There is no evidence in the research to date that psychological interventions are necessary for everyone who has experienced a traumatic event (Bisson, Brayne, Ochberg, & Everly, 2007, p. 1017). For those journalists who need psychological intervention, we strongly recommend that therapists have training and understanding of the culture of journalism and the types of assignment stress injuries with which journalists may be struggling. Formalized psychological supports within the workplace should address the specific needs that journalists present. We also recommend educating journalists about effective and helpful communication among themselves in an effort to normalize and maintain a healthy workplace. Additionally, clear accessibility to support services that intersects with and considers the culture of journalism in their delivery is required. The act of addressing journalists’ needs must be done within the limits and possibilities of the culture. We believe that this can best come about if journalists and professional counselors or psychologists work together.

Maintaining a Balance Between Work And Personal Life

Developing coping strategies such as taking time for exercise, maintaining healthy sleep patterns, ensuring a balanced diet, and taking time for relaxation and socialization are examples of beneficial strategies for maintaining a balance between work and personal life. These strategies may assist journalists in developing healthy boundaries between work and personal life.

In this article, we have shown the effects of witnessing trauma for journalists and photojournalists. We solicit actions that help break the silence in the culture and alleviate the tensions of its members so that the important work in journalism can continue without placing an unnecessary burden on its members.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: Authors received funding to conduct this research from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

References

Adams

R. E.

Figley

C. R.

Boscarino

J. A.

(2004). Compassion fatigue and psychological distress among social workers: A validation study of a secondary trauma instrument. New York: The New York Academy of Medicine.

American Psychiatric Association. (2000). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders IV-TR (4th ed., text rev.). Washington, DC: Author.

Backholm

Björkqvist

(2010). The effects of exposure to crisis on well-being of journalists: A study of crisis-related factors predicting psychological health in a sample of Finnish journalists. Media, War & Conflict, 3, 138-151.

Berrington

Jemphrey

(2003). Pressures on the press: Reflections on reporting tragedy. Journalism, 4, 225-248.

Bisson

J. I.

Brayne

Ochberg

F. M.

Everly

G. S.

(2007). Early psychosocial intervention following traumatic event. American Journal of Psychiatry, 164, 1016-1019.

Buchanan

M. J.

Anderson

Uhlemann

Horwitz

(2006). Secondary traumatic stress: An investigation of Canadian mental health workers. Traumatology, 12(4), 1-10.

Collins

J. L.

(2001). Health issues in journalism and reporting. Occupational Medicine, 16, 583-594.

Cooks

B. B.

Banks

S. R.

Turner

R. J.

(1993). The effects of work environment on burnout in the newsroom. Newspaper Research Journal, 14(3/4), 123-136.

Cote

Simpson

(2000). Covering violence: A guide to ethical reporting about victims and trauma. New York, NY: Columbia University.

10.

Drummond

W. J.

(2004). Equipping journalists with tools for emotional balance. Nieman Reports, 58(2), 79-81.

11.

Dworznik

(2006). Journalism and trauma: How reporters and photographers make sense of what they see. Journalism Studies, 7, 534-553.

12.

Dworznik

Grubb

(2007). Preparing for the worst: Making a case for trauma training in the journalism classroom. Journalism and Mass Communication Educator, 62, 190-210.

13.

Fedler

(2004). Insiders’ stories: Coping with newsroom stress: An historical perspective. American Journalism, 21(3), 77-106.

14.

Feinstein

(2004). The psychological hazards of war journalism. Nieman Reports, 58, 75-76.

15.

Feinstein

Nicholson

(2005). Embedded journalists in the Iraq war: Are they at greater psychological risk? Journal of Traumatic Stress, 18(2), 129-132.

16.

Feinstein

Owen

Blair

(2002). A hazardous profession: War, journalists, and psychopathology. American Journal of Psychiatry, 159, 1570-1575.

17.

Figley

(1995). Compassion fatigue: Coping with secondary traumatic stress disorder in those who treat the traumatized. New York, NY: Brunner/Mazel.

18.

Frank

(2002). The forgotten tribe: News coverage unlimited: How an international tragedy spurred an initiative to help newspeople who cover grisly stories. In Danieli

(Ed.), Sharing the frontline and the back hills: International protectors and providers: Peacekeepers, humanitarian aid workers and the media in the midst of crisis (pp. 331-335). Amityville, NY: Baywood.

19.

Ghaffar

Feinstein

(2005, April). Reporting under fire: Understanding psychopathology of war journalists. Psychiatric Times, XXII(4), 1-2.

20.

Greenberg

Gould

Langston

Brayne

(2009). Journalists’ and media professionals’ attitudes to PTSD and help-seeking: A descriptive study. Journal of Mental Health, 18, 543-548.

21.

Greenwood

Smith

C. Z.

(2007). How the world looks to us: International news in award-winning photographs from the Picture of the Year, 1943-2003. Journalism Practice, 1(1), 82-101.

22.

Hallman

(2005). International victims often the hardest part of reporting. Quill, 93(8), 19.

23.

Hatanaka

Matsui

Ando

Inoue

Fukuoka

Koshiro

Itamura

(2010). Traumatic stress in Japanese broadcast journalists. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 23, 173-177.

24.

Jenkins

S. R.

Baird

(2002). Secondary traumatic stress and vicarious trauma: A validation study. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 15, 423-432.

25.

Johnson

G. A.

Johnson

(2006). Secondary trauma associated with state executions: Testimony regarding execution procedures. Journal of Psychiatry and Law, 34(1), 25-35.

26.

Kalter

(1999). The workplace: Burnout. Columbia Journalism Review, 38(2), 30-33.

27.

Keats

(2005). Vicarious witnessing in European concentration camps: Imagining the trauma of another. Traumatology, 11, 171-187.

28.

Keats

Buchanan

(2009). Addressing the effects of assignment stress injury: Canadian journalists’ and photojournalists’ recommendations. Journalism Practice, 3, 162-177.

29.

Marais

Stuart

A. D.

(2005). The role of temperament in the development of posttraumatic stress disorder amongst journalists. South African Journal of Psychology, 35(1), 89-105.

30.

Maslach

Leiter

M. P.

(1997). The truth about burnout. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

31.

Maslach

Schaufeli

W. B.

Leiter

M. P.

(2001). Job burnout. Annual review of Psychology, 52, 397-422.

32.

Maté

(2003). When the body says no: The cost of hidden stress. Toronto, Ontario: A. A. Knopf Canada.

33.

MAXqda (1989-2007). Software for qualitative data analysis, VERBI Software. Consult. Sozialforschung GmbH, Berlin-Marburg-Amöneburg, Germany.

34.

McMahon

(2001). Covering disaster: A pilot study into secondary trauma for print media journalists reporting on disaster. Australian Journal of Emergency Management, 16(2), 52-56.

35.

Newman

Simpson

Handschuh

(2003). Trauma exposure and posttraumatic stress among photojournalists. News Photographer, 58, 4-14.

36.

Norwood

Walsh

Owen

(2003). Afterward: Journalists and traumatic stress. In Willis

, The human journalist: Reporters, perspectives, and emotions (pp. 133-152). Westport, CT: Praeger.

37.

Osofsky

Holloway

Pickett

(2005). War correspondents as responders: Considerations for training and clinical services. Psychiatry, 68, 283-293.

38.

Palm

Polusny

Follette

(2004).Vicarious traumatization: Potential hazards and interventions for disaster and trauma workers. Prehospital and Disaster Medicine, 19, 73-78.

39.

Pearlman

L. A.

McIan

P. S.

(1995). Vicarious trauma: An empirical study of the effects of trauma work on therapists. Professional Psychology: Research and Practice, 26, 558-565.

40.

Pyevich

Newman

Daleiden

(2003). The relationship among cognitive schemas, job-related traumatic exposure and posttraumatic stress disorder in journalists. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 16, 325-328.

41.

Reinardy

(2006). It’s gametime: The Maslach Burnout Inventory measures burnout of sports journalists. Journalism and Mass Communication Quarterly, 83, 397-412.

42.

Saldaña

(2009). Coding manual for qualitative researchers. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE.

43.

Salston

M. D.

Figley

C. R.

(2003). Secondary traumatic stress effects of working with survivors of criminal victimization. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 16, 167-174.

44.

Scaer

(2007). The body bares the burden: Trauma, dissociation, and disease (2nd ed.). CA: Hawthorn.

45.

Simpson

Boggs

(1999). An exploratory study of traumatic stress among newspaper journalists. Journalism and Communication Monographs, 1(1), 1-26.

46.

Stamm

B. H.

(1995). Secondary traumatic stress: Self-care issues for clinicians, researchers, and educators. Lutherville, MD: Sidran.

47.

Stewart

(2002). Freetown ambush: A reporter’s year in Africa. Toronto, Ontario, Canada: Penguin.

48.

Strupp

Cosper

(2001). Dealing with disaster. Editor and Publisher, 134(7), 10-15.

49.

Teegen

Grotwinkel

(2001). Traumatic exposure and posttraumatic stress disorder of journalists: An internet-based study. Psychotherapeutic, 46, 169-175.

50.

Weidmann

Fehm

Fydrich

(2007). Covering the tsunami disaster: Subsequent post-traumatic and depressive symptoms and associated social factors. Stress and Health, 24(2), 129-135.

51.

Weiss

Marmar

(1997). The Impact of Event Scale – Revised. In Wilson

J. P.

Keane

T. M.

(Eds.), Assessing psychological trauma and PTSD (pp. 399-411). New York, NY: Guilford.