WHEN BLACK MEDIA BECOMES PART OF THE PROBLEM
WHEN BLACK MEDIA BECOMES PART OF THE PROBLEM
The Jason Arday tragedy should force our community to ask some uncomfortable questions.
The death of Professor Jason Arday has left many people angry, heartbroken and deeply uncomfortable about the way public figures—particularly Black public figures—can become the subject of relentless online scrutiny.
Jason Arday was only 41 when he was found dead at his home in south London. His family said he had endured what they described as a sustained campaign of abuse and misinformation. The Mayor of London, Sadiq Khan, also described the public treatment of Arday as an “unacceptable public hounding and campaign of abuse.”
That should make every platform in our community stop and think.
What exactly are we creating when controversy becomes content?
There is a growing concern about social-media platforms that turn people's private struggles, controversies and reputations into entertainment. Headlines are designed to provoke. Videos are designed to generate outrage. Gossip spreads faster than corrections. And once something has gone viral, the human being at the centre of the story can become almost invisible.
We have to ask ourselves whether chasing clicks, followers, comments and advertising revenue is worth the damage that can be done to real people.
And this isn't about saying that journalists should never investigate powerful people. Accountability matters. Truth matters. Investigative journalism matters.
But so does responsibility.
There is a massive difference between legitimate journalism and turning someone's downfall into entertainment.
There is also a difference between reporting allegations responsibly and presenting speculation, gossip or unverified claims as fact.
Black media has an enormous responsibility because our platforms reach our own communities. We should be building our people—not constantly tearing them down.
We should be celebrating Black achievement.
We should be challenging racism.
We should be holding institutions accountable.
We should be protecting young people from the psychological damage that relentless online humiliation can cause.
And most importantly, we should remember that behind every headline is a human being.
The controversy surrounding Jason Arday is still unfolding, and there are legitimate questions that deserve proper investigation. But his death should not become another opportunity for people to generate clicks.
It should become a moment of reflection.
What kind of Black media do we want?
Media that informs?
Media that investigates?
Media that challenges power?
Or media that feeds on scandal because outrage gets views?
We have a choice.
If you believe a platform consistently produces content that is harmful, divisive or irresponsible, you have every right to withdraw your support.
Unfollow. Unsubscribe. Stop sharing. Stop giving harmful content oxygen.
That isn't censorship.
That's choosing what you want to support.
And if you're a media platform reading this: remember that having the power to publish something doesn't automatically mean you should.
Our community deserves better.
Our young people deserve better.
And the people we report on deserve to be treated as human beings—not content.
Jason Arday's death should make us pause before we press “publish.”
Because once the headline is out there, you cannot always take back the damage.
BLACK MEDIA MUST DO BETTER.
This article expresses an editorial opinion. Allegations concerning individual publications or their conduct should be supported by the underlying posts, articles or other evidence before being presented as fact.
















