This essay is part of an ongoing series on “peace preparation” — the emotional, relational, and narrative work that political agreements cannot do on their own. Earlier pieces traced how grief becomes identity and identity becomes grievance; this one asks how modern media and algorithms turn that grievance into a system, and what it would mean to build “media preparation” as a real pillar of any future peace.

How Media Turn Grief into Grievance

We often speak of grievance as though it were only a feeling or an ideology. But grievance is also a system. It is produced, amplified, distributed, monetized, and rewarded.

That is one reason it is so difficult to interrupt.

Grief in a Marketplace

Grief and grievance are not the same.

Grief tells the truth about pain. It says: something precious was lost, and that loss matters. It asks for witness, memory, justice, repair, and, when possible, healing.

Grievance begins near grief but does not remain there. It turns pain into a permanent dwelling place. It shifts from “This hurt us” to “Because this hurt us, others must suffer.” Mourning becomes identity. Identity becomes permission. Permission becomes politics.

That transformation is psychological. It becomes political. Today, it is increasingly digital.

Modern communication systems do not simply report conflict. They sort it, sharpen it, dramatize it, and return it to us in emotionally profitable forms.

This is more than intuition. Research consistently shows that today’s information environment favors emotional intensity over careful judgment. Brady and colleagues found that moral-emotional language spreads political messages more widely online. Vosoughi, Roy, and Aral showed that false news travels farther and faster than truth. Mooijman and colleagues found that moralized online language can contribute to conditions associated with violent collective action.

Taken together, these findings suggest a troubling dynamic: digital systems do not merely transmit public emotion. They often reward the forms of emotion most likely to harden identities, simplify moral judgments, and intensify conflict.

Outrage frequently travels farther than sorrow. Humiliation attracts more attention than complexity. Threats, denunciations, and dehumanizing language often outperform quieter expressions of grief, restraint, accountability, or repair.

This is the grievance economy: an attention environment in which escalation is often more visible, more profitable, and more politically useful than moral discipline.

Why Extreme Language Spreads

When a public figure declares that an entire population should burn, or warns that a civilization must be erased, the statement rarely spreads because it is persuasive. It spreads because it is combustible.

It gives supporters a slogan.

It gives opponents something to condemn.

It gives journalists a headline.

It gives influencers a clip.

It gives platforms engagement.

And it gives frightened people the temporary relief of certainty.

Extreme rhetoric simplifies the moral universe. We are innocent; they are monstrous. Our dead are sacred; theirs are strategic. Our fear proves reality; theirs proves manipulation.

That simplicity is emotionally seductive. It is also politically dangerous.

None of this means the pain beneath such rhetoric is false. Usually it is not.

Israeli grief is real. Palestinian grief is real. Lebanese grief is real. Iranian grief is real. American grief after terrorism and war is real.

The danger lies elsewhere.

Political actors, media systems, influencers, and digital platforms can transform authentic grief into political fuel.

After atrocity, people naturally reach for language equal to what they have experienced. That is profoundly human. Yet our public communication systems do very little to help grief remain grief. They are far better at rewarding the emotional habits that allow grief to harden into grievance.

A Case Study in Dangerous Amplification

One of the clearest historical examples comes from Rwanda.

During the 1994 genocide, Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines did more than reflect hatred. It helped organize and intensify it. Economist David Yanagizawa-Drott’s landmark 2014 study found that exposure to the station’s broadcasts significantly increased participation in killings by both militia members and ordinary civilians.

Rwanda was not a social-media story. It was radio, not algorithms.

But the lesson remains deeply relevant.

Communication systems become dangerous when they repeatedly normalize dehumanization, elevate threat, and reward participation in collective rage. Under those conditions, media cease to function merely as observers. They become part of the social........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)