When I was a kid, in the 1990s, my mom and I binge-watched The Weather Channel like it was Breaking Bad. We loved the enthusiastic, frumpy meteorologists. Local on the 8’s, with its seasonally changing elevator music. The Atlanta-centric perspective on northern climates. Monitoring storms, predicting accumulation, comparing temperatures across the country, the channel was somehow both soothing and fascinating. I briefly toyed with the idea of becoming a meteorologist.
I didn’t become a meteorologist, but I’m definitely still a weather nerd. And right now I’m so frustrated with how Winter Storm Juno, aka, the Blizzard of 2015, aka Snowmaggedon was covered.
Starting late last weekend, the northeast began bracing for a serious winter storm. Juno—thusly named (by the Weather Channel) after the fierce, vindictive Greek goddess—was being touted as “a top five storm,” “dangerous and life-threatening,” “historic,” and, my personal favorite, from the National Weather Service, “paralyzing, crippling, epic, memorable.”
Catesby Holmes
Catesby Holmes is a New York-based freelance writer and former travel editor. She has been published in Travel + Leisure, Wired, The Atlantic’s Citylab, and Endless Vacation, among other outlets.
My problem isn’t with the fact that some areas, such as New York City and western Connecticut, received less than half the expected snowfall. Modeling storm tracks accurately is incredibly complex; weather is the definition of unpredictable.
But do we really need all the hype? There’s nothing remarkable about snow in the northeast—it happens every year, often with notable accumulations. This dramatic interpretation of normal weather phenomena has become standard procedure in the U.S. media, not just in the winter but all year round. For the Weather Channel, CNN, and local news stations, every tropical depression is a historic hurricane-to-be; every nor’easter portends a blizzard; and every high tide heralds a tsunami.
As a result of hyperbolic pre-storm coverage this week, in an unprecedented move, New York City shut down its subways. Offices and schools closed. Families stockpiled a week’s worth of bread, milk, and whiskey. Even in Boston, which did indeed get 30 inches of snow, the hysteria wasn’t helpful. The city and its surroundings handled it admirably — the infrastructure is well in place because this happens every single winter — yet my normally reasonable friends watching the weather on TV were frantic.
There are worse things than being over-prepared. But yellow weather journalism has consequences. The National Weather Service is rapidly losing credibility with the public, who may eventually cease to heed its warnings when it matters, which is worrisome. But for me, the real problem is that when our so-called newscasters describe every storm as a natural disaster, it numbs us to actual weather-related tragedies. Does it seem right that Winter Storm Juno (death toll so far: one) gets more coverage than the May 2014 mudslide in Afghanistan that buried an entire village, killing thousands?
I blame the Weather Channel for America’s meteorological frenzy. As a former fan girl, this pains me. But ever since it was sold to an NBC-Bain Capital-Blackstone Group conglomerate in 2008, good forecasting has taken a backseat to high ratings. It’s not easy to make weather sexy, but here’s what the newly christened Weather Company tried. It fired the earnest on-air talent I grew up with and hired more colorful personalities. It launched dubiously weather-related programming such as Deadliest Space Weather and Fat Guys in the Woods. In 2012, ridiculously, it began naming winter storms. Meanwhile, the utilitarian Weather.com underwent a terrible redesign. Today, like the TV channel, the website is cluttered and largely interested in frozen lighthouses and shark attacks. And worst of all, it bought out Weather Underground, the last digital bastion for weather nerds.
The Weather Channel wasn’t alone in its dire predictions of Juno’s wrath. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association (NOAA) also issued serious warnings, but they were significantly more measured. Compare the NOAA’s above tweet about this significant nor’easter with this screenshot from Weather.com. Notice the difference in content and tone?
The most pathetic part of this descent into ineffectiveness and dishonor? The gambit hasn’t really paid off. The old Weather Channel, the one beloved by weatherphiles, was worth $3.5 billion when NBC bought it. Today, taking inflation into account, its value has declined. Ratings are also mostly down. And Weather.com, once one of the top-ten U.S. websites, is now ranked number 34. Late last year, TWC underwent a “reorganization,” laying off six percent of its staff.
It’s little wonder that TWC feels the need to make breaking news of every snowstorm that blows across the country. It needs the attention—and unlike the NOAA, a government service, it needs eyeballs to make revenue. I get it. But enough with the hype, already. The backlash against it has begun. And I imagine that’s not the attention that TWC had in mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment