The pleasure of demagogy is infinite. Opinion has slipped towards that soft mattress in which everything we say is certified only by our occurrences. The immunity enjoyed by saying what we want without any contrast circulates through the veins of the consumer society of opinion. The damage, like pleasure, is infinite.
Sometimes there are flashes, rare flashes, like this one now open in the pages of Le Monde This French newspaper, one of the largest newspapers in the world, published a cover of its weekly magazine in which President Macron appeared portrayed as a dictator of the 1930s. It was a mistake, they should never have done that simulation, said its director, in a long article that should be read in schools. They were attracted by the graphics, and that's where the taste for caricature slipped. The caricature is not always the face, but the cross, and sometimes the cross does not support everything. The rectification of Le Monde makes history; It is difficult to know if, in addition, it will do school.
The caricature, the grotesque, the treacherous disfigurement, is one of the temptations placed there, at our disposal, for the pleasure of demagogy. We find a grace and by that cucaña we circulate at full speed our occurrences, to disdain in virtue of a detail without real relevance to a public figure that is not dear to us. In this temptation journalists and politicians fall daily, people forced by their trade to be faithful to the truth or, at least, to the facts that would lead to a true interpretation of them.
The most frequent vehicle for malicious misrepresentation is the space of social networks, but the habit of insulting also revolves in more noble areas, including Parliament or the press, as has now happened in the pages of the highly reputed Le Monde. In the exercise of politics, in Spain, the tone of informational misappropriation is rising to exaggerate the defects of the opponent without giving any relevance to the dignity of the information that sustains the frequent insults or outrages. The lie is, also, a material not disdained to turn the other into a guiñapo. In the field of the press, journalists specializing in scandal and crucifixion make the office a sewer in which, in turn, politicians prone to the disqualification audacious, debased, their opponents. The result, now, is an immense chaos that requires a giant faith of errors.
In journalism, above all, rectifying is wise. EL PAÍS was a pioneer in the adoption of the faith of errors as a place where journalists' ego was emptied, and we tend to believe that only others are wrong. Then came the Ombudsman, an eye on which our failures circulate on Sundays, for the teaching of humility. Even so, in this newspaper, and in other major newspapers of the world, as Le Monde, as The New York Times or other icons of the press held by exemplary and even infallible, slip misprints, errors or other damages more devastating that make this office remains rabidly human.
Parliament has not created figures like that, it's a shame. The obligation that politicians have to control their language, as well as the obligation of journalists to monitor theirs, would give them a better country, less inclined to insult that is now the root of the worst period of national conversation, forty years later of having voted that we were going to get better thanks to a law that also obliged us to respect those who were not nice to us.