這大概是歷來對台灣媒體最沉重的批判。美國極富盛名的專業期刊《外交政策》發表專文，批台灣媒體濫用自由、煽情、媚俗，而且超爛、垃圾、把閱聽大眾變成僵屍。文章也批台灣很多名嘴使用極端骯髒、下流的字句。文章的結論是：除非閱聽大眾的消費習慣改變，否則台灣下一代只得繼續忍受「腦殘式新聞的疲勞轟炸」。
亞洲第一 不過爾爾
《外交政策》（Foreign Policy）期刊此文作者是曾在台灣工作的記者福克斯（Chris Fuchs）。文章指出，台灣的新聞自由是亞洲第一，不過外人看來，過去幾個月，全台灣只有兩件事，一個是黃色小鴨爆炸，一個是混血兒吳憶樺坐捷運、吃餃子、與媒體記者親熱。
十餘年來，台灣媒體已經因為「麥克風堵到臉上、百無禁忌、內容聳動、媚俗」而出名。按台灣《商業週刊》說法，大埔事件、海峽兩岸的《經濟合作架構協議》（ECFA）等大事未獲充分報導，可是貓熊「圓仔」的每一步都是新聞；關於黃色小鴨的報導也是滴水不漏。
名嘴文化 最不入流
文章指出，《中國時報》發行人吳根成提及自己一位朋友在歐洲居住多年後返台，對台灣所謂名嘴在電子頻道上的談吐大為震驚，因為他們嘴裡出現一些極為下流的字句，是美國最不入流的有線頻道也不能容忍的。
文章又引述新聞學教授楊艾俐女士的談話，稱台灣媒體缺乏國際視野，「國內的車禍比世界大事重要」，所以楊艾俐建議台灣的閱聽大眾，如果要知道國際大事，最好訂閱某些外國媒體的網路中文版。
即使社群網路的用戶也厭倦了台灣媒體這些現象，因此有人在臉書上以英文批道，「台灣媒體超爛」（Taiwan’s media sucks）。也有人批道，很多媒體提供的是垃圾新聞，會把觀眾變成僵屍（zombies）。文章說，報紙的閱讀率下滑，但是電視充斥著駭人聽聞、淫穢不堪、荒謬絕倫的新聞。
蘋果日報 罪魁禍首
文章指出，台灣的新聞自由一直受到壓制。1987年，蔣經國總統解除戒嚴，接著也解除報禁，台灣媒體開始享受新聞自由。採訪新聞已達20年、現職《旺報》記者的洪肇君說，解禁之初，從業人員其實很有文化使命感，媒體沒有太多腥膻之氣。
洪肇君提到，台灣媒體之所以走到今天這個地步，原因之一是香港《蘋果日報》獲准進入台灣，血淋淋的犯罪現場照片立刻吸引了讀者。
在美國發行的《世界日報》副總編輯魏碧洲表示，台灣愈來愈專注內部事務，對外在世界興趣缺缺，原因之一是台灣的國際空間遭到打壓，無法參與國際組織。《中國時報》發行人吳根成說，相較於大陸中央電視台以歷史及世界角度報導、評析，台灣的電視真應該感到慚愧。
閱聽大眾 決定方向
文章指出，平心而論，台灣媒體的調查報導不時發掘出有意義的素材，諸如高速公路的電子收費、食品添加物、科技公司違法排放廢水等，都應予以高度肯定。這說明了「台灣媒體只要肯做，它們有能力採訪真正的新聞，這令人鼓舞」。
但是，文章又說，最終方向仍然取決於閱聽大眾，如果閱讀大眾的習慣不改，不能對爛新聞「拒看、拒點閱、拒轉載」，則台灣的下一代只能繼續忍受「腦殘式新聞的轟炸」（bombarded by brain-dead news）。
不管對岸共匪.
嗯,從年初有一陣子新聞 , 不外乎是圓圓,鴨鴨,樺樺,柯柯.
現在的新聞重點是啥?(不談青蛙王子 , 人死後為大)
星星,柯柯,冰淇淋....................
圓圓沒人看了
鴨鴨爆了
樺樺回巴西了
柯柯好紅喔
原引用處:
Taiwan maintains the distinction of having the freest television and print media in all of Asia, ranking 50th among 180 countries worldwide in a press freedom index compiled by Reporters Without Borders, a French nonprofit. But if an outsider had docked on the island in the last few months, he might be forgiven for assuming that all of Taiwan was transfixed on two major news stories: a building-sized art installation in the form of an inflatable yellow duck, which on Dec. 31, 2013, exploded in the waters off of Keelung, a city near the capital Taipei, and a mixed-race Brazilian teenager on a self-discovery tour in Taiwan who rode the metro, ate some dumplings, and, on Jan. 4, made out with a reporter almost twice his age. While mainland China, Taiwan’s cross-strait rival, continues to keep a tight leash on its media, Taiwan’s freewheeling television, print, and web media — and their penchant for superficial reportage — are causing antipathy among a growing number of its inhabitants.
Over the last decade, Taiwanese media have come to be known for in-your-face, no-holds-barred reporting that manages to be simultaneously sensationalist and mundane. A popular online editorial published Jan. 7 by Taiwanese magazine Business Weekly lamented that important issues — like the county government forcibly taking land in Dapu, Miaoli, a village in northwest Taiwan, and the June 2010 signing of the Economic Cooperation Framework Agreement between China and Taiwan — remain underreported. Meanwhile, the island has seen what the editorial calls coverage “of every move” of the Taipei Zoo’s new baby panda for about half a year, and Taiwan’s Yahoo page has created an entire page devoted just to the now-deflated yellow duck, regularly re-posting news articles published in other media outlets. In a Jan. 6 editorial in China Times, a Taiwanese daily newspaper, media executive Antony G.C. Wu related a personal story of a friend living in Europe who returned to Taiwan after an unspecified period of time abroad, only to be shocked by what the Taiwanese talking heads were saying on-air. The rhetoric included frequent Chinese-language equivalents of “shit,” “what the fuck,” and other verbal bombs unfit for even some of the crassest U.S. cable news shows. Journalism professor Yang Aili, in a Feb. 12 editorial in the same publication, blamed Taiwan’s media for a lack of international perspective, observing that outlets seemed to attach “more importance to covering car accidents than to important world affairs.” (Yang advised readers to sign up for Chinese-language email updates from publications like the U.K.-based Financial Times and U.S.-based New York Times, instead of relying on the Taiwanese press.) Even users of social media are showing signs of fatigue; a search on Facebook — the social network of choice for young Taiwanese – revealed multiple pages devoted to discussing the problems with Taiwanese media, writ large. On one such page, a user rants in English that “Taiwan’s media sucks,” providing “junk-food like news” that turns the audience into “zombies.” The macabre, salacious, and ridiculous stuff populating Taiwanese media certainly enjoys a wide audience. Readership for Taiwan’s print media has waned over the last two decades; but as of March 2013, there were just under five million cable television subscribers in Taiwan, accounting for over 60 percent of households across the island, with news programming ranking second only to movies in viewership in 2012, the most recent time period for which data could be found. But with 17.5 million Taiwanese (about 75 percent of the island’s 23 million inhabitants) wired to the Internet as of May 2012, readers have increasingly been turning to the web for their news. That might help explain why Taiwanese were so intrigued by chatter about that giant yellow duck that 1.5 million people, presumably mostly from Taiwan, travelled to Keelung to snap pictures. Taiwan’s media have not always enjoyed the freedom they possess (and arguably abuse) today. During Japanese colonial rule from 1895 to 1945 and then also during the martial law period under the Kuomintang government, which lasted from 1949 to 1987 after the Kuomintang fled mainland China after losing the civil war, authorities maintained tight control on Taiwanese press. It wasn’t until 1987 — when then-President Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law — that restrictions on news coverage were removed and Taiwan’s media landscape came to life with a new crop of independent print publications and television stations. Andy Hong, a reporter for Taiwanese newspaper Want Daily and a journalist in Taiwan for 20 years, said that Taiwan’s post-martial law media did not originally run “bloody” or “gossipy” news stories, adding that “newspapers were like those published in the early days of China’s Republican era,” after China had toppled two millennia of imperial rule. Instead, Hong said, they thought they had an obligation “to promote cultural literacy.” Hong’s colleague Yongfu Lin, who became a reporter with the China Times in 1985 and is now deputy director of Want Daily’s cross-strait news division, said that in the years after martial law, “news reports were very diverse,” and the public had “fewer misgivings about the media,” partly because journalists were for the first time targeting political figures who were “once considered off-limits.” But Hong claimed things changed around 2003, when Hong Kong-based Apple Daily, a web site and broadsheet with a tabloid flair known for publishing color photos of grisly crime scenes and scantily-clad women, entered Taiwan and “immediately attracted readers.” One possible explanation for the domestic attraction of Taiwan’s increasingly inward-looking media is its continued diplomatic isolation at the hands of China, which still considers Taiwan a renegade province. Joe Wei, managing editor of the World Journal, a U.S. and Canada-based Chinese-language newspaper owned by Taiwan’s United Daily News, said he believes the lack of opportunities to participate in international organizations has led to a “loss of interest in things going on outside the island.” Hong agreed, saying, “It probably has something to do with the island’s mentality of being a small country.” In the China Times editorial, Wu noted that compared to Taiwan’s television media, even China Central Television, a Chinese Communist Party mouthpiece, covers a wider variety of topics with “both a sense of history and a worldly perspective,” adding that the outlet’s performance “is enough to make Taiwan’s television journalists ashamed.” Taiwanese media also reflect — and exploit — a schism between those preferring the island’s current status of de facto independence from mainland China and those who want something more formal. Strong political beliefs among Taiwanese, Hong said, have emboldened media outlets to reveal their own political character, thus cleaving the country’s media landscape into two halves, leading to highly biased reporting of almost any political or economic issue by media outlets sympathetic to one or the other political cause. To be sure, Taiwanese investigative journalists do occasionally break real stories. As early as 2005, Taiwan’s media began reporting on problems with the island’s electronic toll collection system, which most recently has come under fire for overcharging motorists. The magazine Business Today, a reputable business weekly, published an exclusive in May 2013 exposing the presence of carcinogenic additives in a popular brand of soy sauce sold in Taiwan, touching off a wide-reaching scandal involving some of the island’s most well-known food companies, and prompting the government to take additional steps to ensure the safety of all its food products. And in December 2013, Taiwan’s television and print media reported on accusations that a technology company in the southern city of Kaohsiung secretly dumped wastewater into rivers, leading to further government investigation. It’s heartening to know that Taiwan’s press has the capacity to cover real stories, when it wants to. But in the end, Taiwanese journalists and media critics say, it is the public’s decision to either tune in or tune out that will ultimately shape the direction of news content in Taiwan in the years to come. The public’s following a policy of “no watching, no clicking, no responding” to trivial news, the Business Weekly column argues, is the only way Taiwanese media will change. The prognosis is not good. It might “take decades before seeing results,” the column continues, even if the public does change its consumption habits. If it doesn’t, the next generation will continue to be “bombarded by brain-dead news.”
創作內容
美期刊批台媒：把大眾變僵屍
攻略 (23)