Heather du Plessis-Allan: Blurred lines - face to face with the accused Christchurch gunman

A policewoman stands guard outside the mosque on Linwood Ave after the attacks. Photo / Getty Images

COMMENT:

I couldn't look away. Suppression lifted and the TV news put Brenton Tarrant's face on the screen for what seemed like the longest time and I stared.

I stared at the scab on his lip. I stared at his bald spot. Even at how short he was.

But I didn't feel angry at the TV news for doing it. Which I thought I would.

I thought I would because we've tried so hard to limit the publication of his name and the ridiculous white supremacist sign he pulled in court. And apart from a few glimpses of his face here and there in the immediate aftermath of the March 15 Christchurch mosques shooting, we haven't really seen him.

I'd assumed we never would. Or at least that there was a good chance we never would. Such was the determination to write him out of history.

But now we've seen his face. And hardly anyone reacted. And so it begs the question, what should we do during his trial?

There are calls to severely restrict media reporting of his court case.

Some of that's driven by anger at him. He doesn't deserve to get what he wants, and what he wants is attention. An audience for his ridiculous ideas. Notoriety. Ignoring him feels like the greatest punishment we could hand out.

Some of it's driven by concern that media may unwittingly turn him into a sort of hero figure. And that other angry young men may idolise that hero and copy the man they see in court. Just in the same way that he copied the Norwegian shooter Anders Breivik, who we all saw in court seven years ago.

The Al Noor mosque. Photo / Mark Mitchell

And some of it is because we've been told to censor ourselves. The Prime Minister refuses to say his name. So maybe we should too. She led us so amazingly during those difficult days. And we trusted her instincts. And perhaps we trust her instincts in this decision too.

In the days after the attack, I agreed with the Prime Minister. I was happy not to say his name on air and to accept the self-censorship by our media outlets. But, with the passing of time, I've changed my mind.

We shouldn't choose to be ignorant. Especially not when there are more where this man came from. He didn't hold these ideas in isolation. Others share them too. And to choose ignorance is to choose not to understand him and not to know the next one when we encounter him.

We also can't assume that a court case will necessarily turn him into the legend he wants to be. That isn't what happened with Breivik. Media coverage of Breivik's case showed how pathetic he really is. A copycat without original ideas. A fantasist who dreamt up a network of compatriots while living in his mother's house at 33. A man who wore home-made uniforms and a rack of home-made medals.

A policeman pictured outside the scene of the Deans Ave mosque shooting in Christchurch. Photo / Alan Gibson

It's incredible that Tarrant chose to emulate this loser even when the media coverage showed him up to be a loser. But, it just proves how hard it is to stop these men killing others. Even if you show their hero's weaknesses. Even if you blur their hero's face.

Already someone has invoked the Christchurch shooter. The month after the mosque attacks, a teenager opened fire on a synagogue in California. He also published a manifesto and praised Tarrant. This copycat attack happened despite all our efforts to ignore Tarrant's name and face.

At stake here is a principle the media have cherished up till now, and shouldn't be so willing to abandon. Public interest. That's not the principle of giving the public what they're interested in. It's the principle of telling the public what should concern them.

This shooter concerns us. Preventing this happening again concerns us. Understanding why people like him are so hateful towards our Muslim community concerns us.

Understanding and showing that he's no hero also concerns us.