Sufficient research has been conducted to show that the viewing of film, television and video game violence poses a considerable risk to the cognitive and social development of children and youth.
Research also shows that separate areas of the brain operate when imagining violence while reading about it versus being provided a stimulus of visual violence. Imagination and realistic* experiences are processed differently. So I, a pacifist pastor, am going to play Devil’s Advocate and say that there is moral-formational value in accounts of conflict and even violence in literature for young people.
Human beings are narrative creatures. We ourselves are shaped, and we shape the world around us, by story. And in the life of any given human, it is not simply one story, but a composite of stories that makes that person who they are. This composite most definitely includes fiction—stories which are not literally true but can function as a vehicle of truth. It is on fiction that I want to dwell here.
Good fiction serves as a proving ground for the moral formation of young people. Because of the limitations of our physical bodies, geography and time, no one of us can experience in one lifetime the sum total of events and circumstances which could prepare us for every ethical or moral choice. But a steady diet of good fiction can take us around the world, through the universe and back and allow us to vicariously entertain alternative solutions and possible moral choices through the viewpoint of story characters. Questions like ‘What would I do?’, ‘Could I do that?’, ‘Is that right?’, ‘What would happen?’ form of sort moral-ethical calisthenics program.
Significant in this workout is narrative conflict within which, I suggest, violence serves a necessary training function—surprisingly not toward violence, but against violence. Notice that I keep using the word ‘good’ in relation to fiction. There is a lot of bad fiction out there—both poorly written and lacking in instructional value. Good fiction, in terms of the treatment of violence within the narrative, should adhere to the following criteria in order to be of formational value:
1) Characters should have depth and complexity. No real person is simply bad or simply good, but instead contains both the capacity for great good and great evil. This includes holding out the possibility of redemption for characters who do evil.
2) Consequences of violence need to be portrayed. “Cartoony” violence—where an anvil dropped on the head incurs only momentary dizziness—doesn’t pass muster. Real consequences are physical and emotional injury, shattered lives and even death.
3) Violence for violence’s sake should be marginalized and critiqued within the story. Furthermore, alternatives to retaliatory violence—bargaining, truces, mercy, reconciliation and the like—should be presented with equal consideration.
I have to be honest and say that no story comes to mind which I have read that completely abides by these criteria; most incorporate one or two. With this in mind the important take-away nugget is that parents need to be involved in their child’s reading life. This means both reading what your child is reading and taking the initiative in helping your child process what they are reading in light of faith values.
* I consider visual violence to be more akin to a realistic experience. Video games in particular are increasingly designed from a first-person perspective—as if through one’s own eyes.
On my desk:
Guroian, Vigen. Tending the Heart of Virtue: How Classic Stories Awaken a Child’s Moral Imagination. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998.
On the web:
Plugged in Media Reviews
Science Daily: PG-13 Films Not Safe For Kids, Researchers Say
Science Daily: Was Orton Right? New Study Examines How The Brain Works In Reading;Offers Key To Better Understanding Dyslexia
Science Daily: Media Violence Linked To Concentration, Self-control
Science Daily: This Is Your Brain On Violent Media
Science Daily: Why An Exciting Book Is Just As Thrilling As A Hair-raising Movie
Research also shows that separate areas of the brain operate when imagining violence while reading about it versus being provided a stimulus of visual violence. Imagination and realistic* experiences are processed differently. So I, a pacifist pastor, am going to play Devil’s Advocate and say that there is moral-formational value in accounts of conflict and even violence in literature for young people.
Human beings are narrative creatures. We ourselves are shaped, and we shape the world around us, by story. And in the life of any given human, it is not simply one story, but a composite of stories that makes that person who they are. This composite most definitely includes fiction—stories which are not literally true but can function as a vehicle of truth. It is on fiction that I want to dwell here.
Good fiction serves as a proving ground for the moral formation of young people. Because of the limitations of our physical bodies, geography and time, no one of us can experience in one lifetime the sum total of events and circumstances which could prepare us for every ethical or moral choice. But a steady diet of good fiction can take us around the world, through the universe and back and allow us to vicariously entertain alternative solutions and possible moral choices through the viewpoint of story characters. Questions like ‘What would I do?’, ‘Could I do that?’, ‘Is that right?’, ‘What would happen?’ form of sort moral-ethical calisthenics program.
Significant in this workout is narrative conflict within which, I suggest, violence serves a necessary training function—surprisingly not toward violence, but against violence. Notice that I keep using the word ‘good’ in relation to fiction. There is a lot of bad fiction out there—both poorly written and lacking in instructional value. Good fiction, in terms of the treatment of violence within the narrative, should adhere to the following criteria in order to be of formational value:
1) Characters should have depth and complexity. No real person is simply bad or simply good, but instead contains both the capacity for great good and great evil. This includes holding out the possibility of redemption for characters who do evil.
2) Consequences of violence need to be portrayed. “Cartoony” violence—where an anvil dropped on the head incurs only momentary dizziness—doesn’t pass muster. Real consequences are physical and emotional injury, shattered lives and even death.
3) Violence for violence’s sake should be marginalized and critiqued within the story. Furthermore, alternatives to retaliatory violence—bargaining, truces, mercy, reconciliation and the like—should be presented with equal consideration.
I have to be honest and say that no story comes to mind which I have read that completely abides by these criteria; most incorporate one or two. With this in mind the important take-away nugget is that parents need to be involved in their child’s reading life. This means both reading what your child is reading and taking the initiative in helping your child process what they are reading in light of faith values.
* I consider visual violence to be more akin to a realistic experience. Video games in particular are increasingly designed from a first-person perspective—as if through one’s own eyes.
On my desk:
Guroian, Vigen. Tending the Heart of Virtue: How Classic Stories Awaken a Child’s Moral Imagination. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998.
On the web:
Plugged in Media Reviews
Science Daily: PG-13 Films Not Safe For Kids, Researchers Say
Science Daily: Was Orton Right? New Study Examines How The Brain Works In Reading;Offers Key To Better Understanding Dyslexia
Science Daily: Media Violence Linked To Concentration, Self-control
Science Daily: This Is Your Brain On Violent Media
Science Daily: Why An Exciting Book Is Just As Thrilling As A Hair-raising Movie
