A few days ago, my colleague reported on tourists stranded after disembarking from the residential cruise ship Villa Vie Odyssey, whose operator had reportedly gone bankrupt and could no longer afford to pay for fuel. Amid the crisis, the story also had a heartwarming side: the warmth and welcoming spirit Cambodians showed to the arriving tourists.
It highlighted a different side of Cambodia. Despite being a relatively small country, Cambodia chose to do the right thing by welcoming and accommodating stranded tourists who had themselves fallen victim to the cruise company’s collapse, rather than turning them away.
One might have expected this human aspect of the story to receive greater international attention. Instead, the Financial Times published a headline that read: “Pensioners Bet on a Lifetime Cruise. They Ended Up in a Cambodian Scam Town.”
No headline expressed appreciation for Cambodia’s hospitality or acknowledged the kindness extended to the stranded passengers. Instead, Cambodia once again appeared through the lens of scams, even though the central story had little to do with the country’s scam industry.
The Financial Times is widely regarded as one of the world’s leading and most trusted international publications. Its reputation makes this editorial choice particularly questionable. It raises concerns not only about the correspondent’s approach but also about the editorial judgment behind framing Cambodia this way.
Two common framing techniques, leader framing and nation framing, play an important role in shaping public perceptions in the journalism industry today. In the case of Cambodia, the tendency is to move beyond the specific incident and associate the country as a whole with scams, regardless of how relevant that association may be to the subject. In this way, the complexity of an entire country is reduced to a single word: scam.
This reveals the power of journalistic framing and lexical choice. Selecting certain words and framing stories to provoke outrage has increasingly become part of an environment in which clicks, shares and commercial revenues are central to media operations. Yet, regardless of the impact such choices may have, there seems to be little consideration of their wider consequences, or even any sympathy for those affected by the resulting portrayal.
These practices involve selective headlines, emotionally charged terminology and skewed representations that can marginalize voices challenging prejudice or reinforce perceptions of migrants, minorities and entire communities as social, legal or security threats. The consequences extend beyond the immediate subject of a news report, shaping how international audiences understand people and places.
Cambodia is far from perfect, and we recognize the serious problems associated with scam networks operating within the country. These issues deserve scrutiny, investigation, and sustained reporting. But acknowledging these problems does not mean Cambodia should be denied fair and proportionate treatment in international coverage.
Dehumanizing and stigmatizing language can become normalized through selective reporting. It is unacceptable to apply the benchmark of scams to virtually everything associated with Cambodia, even when the subject has little or no relevance to such activities.
Cambodia is not the first country to experience this kind of persistent stereotyping by influential international media. Countries worldwide have faced similar portrayals, often leaving ordinary people with little ability to challenge or change the perceptions imposed on them. The consequences extend beyond national reputation. Such portrayals can affect tourism, investment, businesses and, ultimately, the livelihoods of innocent people who have nothing to do with the problems being reported.
This does not mean that negative reporting should be avoided. To interpret this argument as a call for international media to refrain from investigating Cambodia’s shortcomings would be a serious misunderstanding. Journalism must report both the positive and negative realities of a country. Scam networks should be connected to a story whenever the evidence and circumstances genuinely warrant such a connection. What should not happen is the persistent attempt to add in every story about Cambodia the word scam simply because an opportunity presents itself.
If anyone wonders why public trust in the media continues to decline, perhaps there is no need to look too far for an explanation. We, as journalists, must also take responsibility for eroding that trust. Public confidence does not disappear without reason. When audiences increasingly question the fairness, independence and credibility of established media organizations, that should serve as a wake-up call for major international publications, including the Financial Times, to reflect on their editorial practices and reconsider their approach.
But why does Cambodia continue to receive such negative international coverage?
While international media should be held accountable for how they portray Cambodia, it’s incomplete to examine the country’s international image without considering the factors that shaped it, including decisions made by the Cambodian government itself.
Of course, there have been underlying causes. The scale of scam networks operating within the country, the government’s failure to act decisively early on, and the lack of accountability for potentially complicit high-ranking individuals have all contributed to international scrutiny. These are legitimate issues that deserve sustained investigation and reporting. However, I believe another factor has received less attention, though some may disagree: the government’s long-standing treatment of independent media and its repeated crackdowns on press freedom.
The 2017 shutdown of The Cambodia Daily and the 2023 closure of VOD were particularly consequential decisions, along with the high-profile arrest of independent journalists. These were grave mistakes that had repercussions extending far beyond the newsrooms directly affected. They further strained the relationship between the government and an international journalism community that is extensive, interconnected and capable of mobilizing across borders.
Naming and shaming have long been part of transnational advocacy networks’ practices to hold powerful governments and institutions accountable. An attack on a media organization or the arrest and imprisonment of a journalist in one country can trigger solidarity campaigns, international scrutiny and sustained efforts to hold those responsible accountable. Such responses are not necessarily coordinated efforts against a country, but they demonstrate how deeply interconnected the global journalism and press freedom communities have become.
The government may have underestimated the wider consequences of its decisions. Closing a newsroom or silencing an independent media organization does not end scrutiny. Rather, it can generate further international attention and deepen mistrust between the government and the international media community. In the long run, these strained relationships can make it harder for Cambodia to communicate its perspectives and have its achievements and complexities recognized abroad.
Now back to our core issue. I understand that my criticism may not convince the publication or prompt it to acknowledge the concerns raised here. Perhaps the dignity and image of a relatively small country such as Cambodia carry little weight against the institutional confidence and editorial authority of a major international media organization. Perhaps commercial considerations matter more than the wider consequences for a country and its people.
But this issue should not end with one disputed headline or one publication. It requires broader recognition of how powerful media organizations shape perceptions and how easily repeated narratives can become accepted as truth. International media may not readily recognize the damage such practices cause, but the consequences can become increasingly difficult to reverse. By the time the damage becomes undeniable, it may be too late to correct perceptions built over years.
This is not simply about whether a story is inappropriate or whether Cambodia deserves a better international image. It is about journalism’s basic responsibility to be fair, proportionate and relevant. A country should not be reduced to its worst problems, and its people should not have to bear the consequences of a narrative that fails to recognize their humanity.
Like any other country, Cambodia deserves the right to be reported on in its full complexity. And the Cambodian people deserve better.
