In 2007 when I got my first job as a TV reporter at an English news channel, I was taught the importance of ethics and balanced news. My boss at that time, a renowned and influential media executive, made sure to drill these concepts into my mind.

I was trained never to make accusations against an individual or group without presenting their side of the story. Since my personal opinion was irrelevant, I only reported the facts while remaining respectful of an individual’s wishes to be broadcasted on television. If I violated these rules, not only would I hear about it the next day, I would actually be up all night thinking of how my boss would react to my misstep. He taught me well.

This lasted for three years and once it was cruelly realised that local news in a foreign language had no future in Pakistan, making the transition to the Urdu news business presented a serious challenge.

Indeed my new employers also had a code of conduct and a set of self-defined ethics. There were documents and policies that preached exactly what I have mentioned above, but practicing the code was a whole different ball game.

I was often told to “go there, but don’t cover it”. I found this very strange. Surely more than 2,000 workers staging a sit-in outside the Karachi Press Club for more than two months is newsworthy? Despite being present at their press conferences and protests, I was never asked to send a single ticker.

My instructions were clear: If protesters were to get tear gassed, or lathi-charged, the channel must be the first to cover it, and I would be expected to state that the workers provoked the attack.

It did not take a genius to figure out why I was given these directives. All one had to do was to observe the sheer volume of advertisements that the organisation, whose workers were protesting, ran on our channel. The same rationale applied to other cash cows that made negative news. We went easy on them.

Soon I accepted the fact that large media houses needed the advertising money. I was trained to let it go. Surely it makes sense; you don’t spit where you eat.

Similarly, depending on the channels’ relation to the political party in question, some get five minutes of coverage while others as little as 40 seconds.

This kind of favouritism, however, causes many problems. Apart from being unethical, the reporter in the field is faced with hostility from the groups that are getting the short end of the coverage stick; crowd tempers rage and sometimes reporters are attacked. While the reporter finds it easy to blend with the crowd, the cameramen and the DSNG have nowhere to hide. Many thus regularly get roughed up.

I save the worst for last. All of the above practices have been a result of the dynamics of power, but I have partaken in news reporting that was not only sensational but that which made me sick to the stomach.

Take the 2012 Air Blue crash for instance. More than 150 Pakistanis lost their lives and their families were devastated.

So what did my channel ask us to do? It asked reporters to do what any media ethics workshop will teach you not to do.

One news van was moved to the airport and the other was positioned at a mosque where a number of funerals were to take place. I received a frantic call that morning with instructions to “hurry up”.

“The bodies have started arriving, move to a house in Nazimabad where the dead body of a son and father are to arrive shortly, and remember, you must get the version of the victims’ mother. I have moved a female reporter to another house near you, please help her if she has any problems.”

I had to capture the misery of a mother who had just lost her son and husband. It made me sick to the stomach but deep down I knew I had to do it.

As per my orders, we began rolling camera without first asking for permission and captured the tears on camera. Hesitantly I put the mic in front of the mother; the woman could barely talk and broke down hysterically. My job was done. I had the money shot.

I looked at the floor and tried to block out everything while she tried to utter a few words of prayer. This scenario repeated itself on numerous occasions that day, at the airport, at people’s homes, at funerals, and at mosques.

The younger reporters seemed to be desensitised, one going about her job in the most ‘professional’ manner as far as fulfilling her tasks was concerned, boldly walking up to someone and asking them, “Your son has been dead for two hours, how does it feel? What were his last words to you? How was he as a person?”

And then, there are the unwilling. I’ve been expelled from many a household and funerals, with the family insisting they do not want media coverage. But we do not take no for an answer. We get our cameramen to climb on walls, hide behind trees, keep the camera rolling while making people think it is off.

I would like to point out I am not against getting sound bites from the families, it is just the urgency and the impersonal manner in which it is done that’s the problem.

The proper way to go about this would be to wait for a bit, approach a family member or a friend who might get permission from the victim’s mother, and then speak to her on camera only if she is ready and willing.

This practice of procuring emotional ‘sound bites’ is standard. As soon as an incident takes place, an assignment editor or news producer will likely make a call to his reporters demanding the above as soon as possible. Why is he doing this? Well, because everyone else is. Apparently Pakistanis like to watch such things and they bring higher ratings. A producer’s performance is judged through the ratings he can attract compared to other channels. He must get this footage.

Despite all I have argued, I consider myself a supporter of the Urdu media, as I have witnessed it providing justice to many people by giving them a voice. All one has to do is look at the number of people who were on their death bed and news channels secured funding for their treatment, or got widows their rightful compensation. Corruption has been highlighted again and again, missing children have been found, education has been prioritised while most of all, tyranny and injustice in numerous cases has been curtailed through the airing of reports.

I have seen it do more good than bad. However, there are cases in which we do ourselves an injustice, as organisations, as journalists and as individuals. I wish the policies as inculcated by my first editor could once again be followed in the mainstream media. At its heart, good journalism is about practicing bringing forward ethical and balanced news, that educates rather than feeds people’s need for the sensational.

The writer’s identity has been changed to protect privacy