Long live Leeks: why satire shouldn’t be controversial
By Warren Suen
Before I joined the writing team of RCHK Leeks, the school’s satirical newspaper, I was unaware of the magical ways satire was utilised to spread genuine concerns. Public perception of satirical journalism is unfair: some of my friends have talked about how Leeks is the go-to place for “CAS farmers” and that the RCHK Truth is where real journalism takes place. However, Leeks is so much more than that. Students can voice their opinions on any topic they want in an engaging, entertaining, and digestible way for all ages.
Satire has been controversial since the dawn of mankind. Thousands of years ago, the Greek playwright Aristophanes utilised witty dialogue to criticise the government and influential figures. Although he is now known as the Father of Comedy, his plays were often criticised. There were people who reviled his plays as slander to the point where they took legal action. Nevertheless, he formed the basis of satire as a form of commentary, and for that, I have massive respect for him (even if I had to recite one of his plays for Theatre class).
But isn’t it unfair how satire keeps being critiqued?
Just because satire is unconventional doesn’t mean it should be treated differently than other forms of journalism. Satire shouldn’t be controversial. It is an important type of journalism, having deep roots in history; in several instances, it even helped shape its course. An example is the rise of satirical cartoons in America before and during the Revolutionary War in the 1700s — where cartoons were used to ridicule King George III.
These cartoons utilised hyperbole to highlight the economic issues in his reign. The illustration above shows King George III’s lifestyle. Although he surrounds himself with royalty, he is seen feasting on eggs and sauerkraut — “peasant foods” — and using the tablecloth as a napkin. This satirises the economic state of Britain at the time, where even royalty had to be frugal. Britain had a national debt of £250 million when the war ended. The cartoon was published in 1792 and spread among the British.
"The [Founding Fathers] didn't just enjoy humour in satire — they believed it was politically important," said historians from Penn State University. "And so they employed the pen and the sword, using satirical works as 'weapons in a literary and ideological war to decide the future of the new Republic.'"
Not only did satirical media shape the ideology of America, but it also changed the minds of many other people. It crushes my heart to see how little positive attention something with thousands of years of history and rainbows of influence gets.
Satire is not just an alternative way to learn about different perspectives; it also keeps the information digestible. According to Massih Zekavat, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Flensburg, satire is a universal language that can challenge perceptions of behavioural controls and create social pressure to instigate behaviour. This is why political cartoons were so prominent — the simple satirical illustrations condensed the information into something everyone could understand and be persuaded by.
“Our mission statement in RCHK Leeks is to write articles and draw comics that all secondary school students can understand,” said Rex Lau, a designer and journalist for Leeks. “Satire is magical in that we can voice our opinions on topics in a way which entertains us and the audience.”
The Flesch–Kincaid test determines the readability of texts on a scale from 0 (very difficult to read) and 100 (very easy to read). When I tested two articles on the same topic: one satirical and one broadsheet, the satirical version received a score of 82, and the broadsheet receive 68. Now, what does this mean? Though the numbers look similar, the satirical article can be understood by someone with a 6th-grade education (age 11), while the broadsheet requires an 8th-grade education (age 14).
Some newspapers like South China Morning Post and The Truth have a division aimed at younger audiences, featuring simpler language and sentences. But their articles feel monotonous and unspecific, while satirical articles don’t have this problem.
Satire also balances traditional newspapers’ stone-faced news stories by providing something more lighthearted.
“Leeks provides me with laughter when I am stressed,” said Olivia Lo, an avid reader of Leeks. “It is a form of escapism: it provides entertaining articles to distract me from the heavy stories other places offer.”
There are reasonable justifications for satire’s controversy, though. A significant problem with satire is that it often gets misunderstood as real news. This problem is quite outrageous; in fact, there is a whole community to ridicule people who misinterpret satire.
This community finds people who think satirical headlines are actual news stories (and it’s hilarious). There is a reason why your teachers tell you to evaluate your sources. Not only do most satirical newspapers have disclaimers on their web page, but a quick Google search will also tell you whether or not they are satirical. It’s easier than finding which side of the political spectrum a newspaper leans on.
“It is really easy for misinformation to occur, especially in the age of social media. Therefore, it is extremely important for the reader to understand the news they are reading. It is also important for the newspaper to make it clear for the reader”, said Justin Yuen, the Project Manager for RCHK Leeks. “For example, we make it extremely clear that we are satirical — we explicitly mention it in our Instagram bio.”
So, how do we solve this debacle? The people who deem satire as controversial misunderstand it. They need to be informed about its true purpose and value. As a satirical journalist, I’ll personally give you three things you could do which would drastically improve my life. Firstly, tell your friends and family about satire’s importance. Secondly, encourage others to read satirical newspapers like RCHK Leeks. Lastly, donate to satirical websites so they can continue the bloodline of satire.
Let’s not let Aristophanes down, okay?