Person of the Year

For 97 years, the editors of TIME have been picking the Person of the Year: the individual who, for better or for worse, did the most to shape the world and the headlines over the past 12 months. In many years, that choice is a difficult one. In 2024, it was not.

–https://time.com/7201547/person-of-the-year-2024-donald-trump-choice/

Adolf Hitler (1938) and Joseph Stalin (1939, 1942) had also been chosen Person of the Year by TIME for their significant impact on world events. 

The Moral Responsibility of the Press in Shaping Perceptions of Controversy

The press wields immense power in its ability to shape public perception and influence historical narratives. This role carries a profound moral responsibility, especially when journalists and editors choose to spotlight figures who have caused immense harm, such as war criminals or perpetrators of systemic violence. Time magazine’s historical decisions to name Adolf Hitler (1938) and Joseph Stalin (1939, 1942) as their “Person of the Year” highlight this tension. These selections were ostensibly made to acknowledge impact rather than endorse actions, but the distinction becomes murky when such figures are presented on global platforms, gaining a veneer of legitimacy.

What happens when the press shines its spotlight on individuals whose legacy includes brutality and oppression? The justification that the title is awarded based on influence, rather than greatness or morality, may hold some merit in theory. Yet in practice, presenting war criminals on magazine covers or in celebrated year-end spots carries consequences. It risks normalizing their actions or even glamorizing figures of destruction. Notably, while the title wasn’t intended as an honor, for many in the public eye, such recognition conflates power with admiration.

Distortion of Public Perception

The humanizing effect of a high-profile media feature plays a dangerous game. For instance, Stalin’s inclusion as “Man of the Year” just three years after orchestrating purges that took millions of lives moves the narrative from a condemnation of these horrors to a discussion of his supposed necessity as a historical figure. For Time to shine this light during his leadership validated his reign to a certain degree—not in the intent but in the resultant perception. Similarly, the acknowledgment of Hitler, even if intended to soberly reflect on his rise, reframed his fascist terror into an achievement quantified by global impact.

This distortion paves the way for the public to view moral atrocities through the lens of spectacle. When war criminals and convicted felons are raised to the level of global celebrities, the atrocities they commit risk becoming diminished through euphemism, footnotes in the broader recognition of their strategies or ambition. Media inadvertently lifts these figures out of the cages of moral accountability and places them into the pantheon of figures “worth knowing,” as if fame could consume their deeply tragic legacies. The implications are troubling. History may record their crimes, but contemporary portrayals through high-profile features soft-pedal these truths, allowing room for dangerous reinterpretations.

Ethical Responsibility in Journalism

The conundrum for media outlets is the clash between their duty to inform and their tendency to seek engagement through controversy. The press operates in an ecosystem that thrives on readership, clicks, and attention. Unfortunately, morally neutral—or even voyeuristic—marketing of controversial figures often generates this engagement at a high cost to ethical integrity. Journalists and editors choose whose stories to amplify. Responses of “but they were relevant” do not absolve the press of complicity in giving a platform to those who should only be remembered for their destruction, not obscured behind a strategic rebranding as masters of geopolitics.

Moving forward, a clear distinction must be made by media houses that assigning bandwidth to “impactful” figures like Adolf Hitler or Joseph Stalin does not mean offering celebratory podiums. Responsible journalism would emphasize the gravity of their misdeeds without succumbing to spectacle. This involves refusing the clichés of false neutrality, where tragedies are rewritten as mere “historical phenomena,” and proactively resisting glamorization altogether.

In 2024, Donald Trump was named TIME’s Person of the Year for his significant influence on global politics and his remarkable political comeback. After a tumultuous first term and losing the 2020 election, Trump returned to the political scene, winning the presidency again by expanding his voter base and capitalizing on economic frustrations. His victory marked a historic political realignment, with increased support from Black and Latino voters and suburban women. Trump’s influence reshaped American politics and the presidency, reflecting a broader global shift towards populism and skepticism of traditional institutions¹.

Footnotes

1. https://time.com/7201547/person-of-the-year-2024-donald-trump-choice/ ↩

Sources

Why Donald Trump Is TIME’s 2024 Person of the Year
Donald Trump named Time magazine’s ‘Person of the Year’
Donald Trump Is Time Magazine’s Person of the Year for …
Trump named Time’s ‘Person of the Year’ for second time
Donald Trump named Time Person of the Year again

A Sarcastic Reminder to the World

Media and recognition committees alike continue to blur lines of ethics and folly. If influence trumps morality so easily, why not carry the absurdity further and task Benjamin Netanyahu with the Nobel Peace Prize for “finally bringing peace to the Middle East”? After all, his policies have indisputably impacted millions of lives—for better or worse, in certain narratives more heavily weighted toward the latter. Such an award would crown decades of unresolved conflict with irony so thick even Orwell might blush.

Ultimately, the responsibility lies both with journalists and the society scrutinizing them. History demands accountability—not through reverence to power but by learning its limits. To abdicate this responsibility is to risk repeating yesterday’s atrocities with today’s convenient justifications. The pen and the press must never forget whose stories need to be told, and whose legacies demand unflinching condemnation, not passive recognition.

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