This week’s New Republic carries an essay by Gregg Easterbrook that takes issue with the media’s use of the words shooter and gunman to describe the person eventually identified as Cho Seung-Hui in coverage of the recent murders at Virginia Tech. Easterbrook also takes umbrage at the use of shooting spree to describe his actons.

Similarly odd was the frequent use of the phrase “shooting spree” to describe the Blacksburg horror. A spree is a gay, carefree outing. Those who say “shooting spree” make it sound as if killing at random is therapeutic, even recreational: He felt depressed, so he went on a shooting spree. The only term that fits what Cho did is “rampage,” and a few reports used this word. But a disturbing number opted for “spree.”

Easterbrook’s argument is that such terms do not identify the evil in Cho’s actions, that they are not judgmental, that they are terms which refuse to acknowldge the moral universe, and that they are used in the service of a misguided and foolish political correctness. After browbeating his reader for several paragraphs, Easterbrook concludes more or less as follows:

Evil exists and must be spoken of as evil, not in euphemism. On a windy Monday morning in Virginia, evil armed itself and performed the most despicable of acts: pleasure in the taking of innocent life. Evil will arm itself again. As George Orwell showed, unless we call a thing what it is, we can neither think about it clearly nor oppose it.

To be sure, the language Easterbrook deplores is the language of media cliché, and that is dreadful in its own way. But it seems to me that there may be a number of valid reasons for seeking neutral, descriptive language for reporting about terrible and terrifying events. I’m not sure I understand Easterbrook’s indignation, and I very much fear that if journalists followed rules such as the ones he lays down, the result would be sensationalism, not moral edification. Also, since I myself initially found it difficult to find words to talk about the Virginia Tech murders, and since I don’t particularly like having motives prescribed to me by press pundits, I beg to differ.

First and foremost I think the problem we have with language in the face of mass murders is understandable because it is human, and it is human because evil, however monstrous, is human. When our minds are invaded by yet another proof of the moral horror of which we human beings are capable, a first reaction is to recoil from the knowledge. Far from being a sign of decadent public discourse, I think the media’s tendency to fall back on trade clichés is a sign of decency. Indeed I wish I could think that all the press coverage of the murders at Virginia Tech had reflected a decent distaste for voyeurism and sensation. I was bothered by the constant attempt on the part of reporters to provoke emotion from the young people they interviewed, asking them how they felt at a time when such a question bordered on being obscene. My friend Tim Burke put this in excellent perspective when he wrote on this blog:

 . . . Is it so hard to let the dead lie in peace for a few days, to reflect quietly and somberly on the horror and pain of it? Do we have to domesticate every event into the simple-mindedness of single-cause arguments, master the meaninglessness that sometimes comes with being human with the jabber of the punditocracy? Can’t we just reach out collectively to put a quiet hand on the shoulder of those who have lost friends, family and colleagues?

Easterbrook also charges that “news reports have treated the murderer’s history gently,” rather than labeling him a madman. “There simply are no circumstances under which a person of sound mind would slaughter 32 unarmed innocents.” Fair enough. I’m imagining a two-inch headline that reads, “MADMAN GOES ON KILLING RAMPAGE, MURDERS 32!” Such a head would satisfy Easterbrook’s criteria, but this is the kind of language we expect from The National Enquirer. Such language trumpets the horror itself as a commodity, a form of sentimentality; and it objectifies the murderer and his victims.

The unarmed innocents at Virginia Tech, their families, friends, colleagues, and associates, all who were slain, traumatized, or otherwise directly involved in Cho’s murderous rampage (see, I can use judgmental words), were, are, all of them–valuable and precious human beings. And while I am saying that I must also point out that Cho himself was a human being. Reporting that has attempted to understand Cho as a deprived and lost soul is not misguided. To seek to explain a particular evil as the absence of some good is deeply embedded in our culture. Before it was part of secular therapy, it was Christian. Indeed, it remains Christian. I hope there will be many who will include Cho in their prayers along with those whom he killed and hurt, as I do.