The ongoing tragedies in Gaza are sickening. What’s more, the full extent of suffering is underscored by thousands of first-hand accounts who have documented their trauma and shared their experiences online. This is unfamiliar to us— in the infancy of global interconnectedness, we are the first to see war and tragedy coincide with the age of social media and unrestricted information exchange.

It no longer takes an internet deep dive to find real videos of death, injuries, and devastation caused by global conflicts. This content is disturbing, but is (re)posted with the intention of capturing a clear image of the harsh realities these people face. Revealing the true extent of the chaos will certainly elicit concern for the vulnerable citizens being affected, such as in Gaza, and we should definitely have primary reports of what’s going on.

But at what point are we beginning to cross the line? How much of this graphic content do we permit to enter mainstream media, and what are the ethical implications of recording death and suffering in the first place?

Journalism has always entailed an unwavering commitment to objective truth, however gory the details. But something feels off about documenting these tragedies. Social media pages such as Eye on Palestine have committed themselves to this effort, and have been quick to amass large followings (8.2 million at the time this was written). The account posts footage from inside the chaos of Palestine almost hourly, and no details are spared. Instagram users will find footage of parents holding their deceased children, bloodied arms peeking out from beneath mounds of rubble, and motionless civilians sprawled across city streets.

This is not how anyone wants to be remembered. Standing over disfigured bodies and pointing cameras in their faces is invasive, and dishonorable to the victims and their families. We are not generating concern for the individual so much as we are provoking gag reflexes and appealing to shock value. It’s dehumanizing, and desensitizes us to the sacredness of life. What’s more, these people have not only been stripped of life but their autonomy, and who are we to jump at this opportunity? Who are we to say, “these people can’t argue with me, so I’ll assume they’d agree to having the image of their lifeless face all over Instagram”? This is wrong, and not just moral skepticism: ethicists and philosophers such as Immanuel Kant have long disapproved of using people as means for any cause, and most modern voices agree that the dead still have a moral standing. Why else do we arrange elaborate ceremonies, host meaningful burials, and invest in cushioned coffins for our deceased loved ones?

We should still treat the deceased as though there’s still some life within them, out of respect for the life they once lived.

There are other ways to direct attention to Palestine and encourage support for them during these trying times. The gravity of the situation can still be communicated through the voices of the people— I’ve seen plenty of videos of brave Palestinians taking the stage and sharing stories of their experiences, embodying the collective desperation but unrelenting spirit of their people. These are still first-hand accounts of what’s taking place, and serve as unambiguous testaments to both the tragedies endured and the strength of Palestinians.

Editor’s Note: At the time of posting (11/16/23), Eye.On.Palestine now has 8.9 million followers.