On Wednesday, November 26, at 3:51 pm, the Milton Academy campus was silent—students were home, enjoying fall break with family and friends. However, 7,800 miles away in the Wang Fuk Court estate in Tai Po, Hong Kong, the scene was calamitous. Flames engulfed buildings, severely damaging seven of the eight tower blocks. As many families in the United States prepared elaborate meals and reflected on their blessings, firefighters worked tirelessly for 48 hours to extinguish the blaze. Still, the death toll rose to over 150 before the fire came to a halt. Then came the major newspapers around the world covering the disaster, from local outlets like The Boston Globe to influential publications like The Times of India.
When a large-scale catastrophe occurs, such broad media coverage is inevitable. Typically, news outlets attempt to reduce repetition by approaching the subject from a fresh perspective. However, with the Hong Kong fires, nearly all articles I have seen shared a singular focus: celebrating the heroism of the firefighters, which to me was an incredibly disappointing angle. This is not to say that the over one thousand firefighters do not deserve the recognition; their courage is clearly inconceivable. But the Hong Kong fires weren’t some astonishing tragedy—in fact, they were practically predestined. According to Reuters, in July of 2024, Prestige Construction and Will Power Architects renovated the complex, and many of the materials incorporated during this time period were of vastly substandard quality. The polystyrene styrofoam used to block windows during renovation was both extremely cheap and flagrantly flammable, the plastic netting failed fire tests but was used regardless, and all the fire alarms in every building were incapable of alerting residents to possible flames.
We should ask not “how did this tragedy happen?” but “how did this tragedy not happen sooner?”
The reaction of the people of Hong Kong only contributes to the peculiarity of the event. According to an article by ABC News, many citizens do not agree that construction regulations should ban bamboo scaffolding, a highly flammable material and primary perpetrator of spreading the fire. This scaffolding is a traditional element of East Asian architecture and a visual distinction of cultural heritage. Many other nations like China and Japan have had similar ties to the design, but due to the overall safety risk, they compromised in favor of a metal replacement. Yet despite the tragedy that ensued from this highly dangerous element, many Hong Kong residents hesitate to turn away from the design choice.
What is the correct middle ground between cultural appreciation and safety measures? Do we erase culture for our own sake, or do we erase ourselves for our culture’s sake?
The way the media portrays events can have an enormous influence on how people think. As an extreme example, in North Korea, all books, movies, newspapers, and other consumable content are state-controlled, carefully curated to glorify the regime. As a result, citizens are indoctrinated into believing in the flawless nature of the country.
The impact of media coverage reverberates even in free societies. While the widespread coverage of the Hong Kong fires does not experience the same level of extreme authoritarian control as North Korea, the media’s lack of critical scrutiny narrows the public’s perception of the tragedy. Instead of attacking the easy avoidability of the tragedy with proper construction and safety checks by Prestige Construction, the media chooses to praise the incredible traits of the firefighters. This oversight not only devastates lack of critical thinking by observers but also contributes to the inevitable fact that no one will fix these issues in the future. Without taking the time to thoroughly acknowledge the scarcity of safety prioritization during the renovation, authorities from governments to private companies cannot establish any long-term safety reform. Without understanding the consequences of the catastrophe, both Hong Kong and the international observer risk repeating such devastation.
The Hong Kong fires, precisely because they were foreseeable, are tragic. The event stands as a symbol of deliberate cost-cutting, lax regulation, and a public too willing to prioritize cultural significance over safety. The media’s spotlight on heroism and resilience displaces the necessary outrage and reform that these preventable issues urgently require to vanish into history. When coverage chooses to comfort rather than to confront, we neglect the potential—and need—for progress.