A Russian national is interviewed by police after a fatal traffic accident in Nha Trang. Photo courtesy of the police

AF Reeves - @afreeves23

Have you noticed more news about badly behaved foreigners lately? Almost comical jewellery heists, angry traffic altercations, public vandalism, drug running, even assassinations. One could be forgiven, scrolling the past few months of headlines, for assuming Việt Nam had quietly become a country in which dangerous foreigners stalked the streets, striking fear into the hearts and minds of ordinary locals. To those of us who actually live here, that obviously isn't the case. So what is actually going on?

Two things to get straight before going any further. Firstly, I love Việt Nam. It is my adopted home, and I have used this column more than once to push back, sharply, against foreigners who disrespect the country, its people and its institutions. The arrogance and hypocrisy of perma-tourist tax dodgers, freeloading and abusing visa rules while complaining about migrants back home, still grates. My views remain unchanged, and I applaud the government's refusal to allow the country to become a dumping ground for other nations' trash.

Secondly, and just as importantly, foreigners make up a very small fraction of the population here at any given moment, even counting the millions of tourists who pass through each year. They stand out from the crowd. The visible incidents are a small fraction of crime, committed by a small fraction of society. That has to be kept strongly in mind before any fair and honest conversation about the misconduct of foreigners can occur.

I am not suggesting that crimes should be kept out of the news. The shooting in Bến Thành, cross-border drug arrests, trafficking cases. These are serious stories that deserve serious coverage. They are shocking, and I am all for making an example of offenders where necessary. Yet what I've also noticed, alongside the increased coverage of foreigner incidents, is something different. Two recent national op-eds, accessible in both Vietnamese and English, ran headlines implying that Việt Nam's hospitality and its rule of law were being deliberately tested by foreigners. I am sure I don't need to describe the comment sections.

The cumulative effect of such stories, of generalisation dressed up as commentary, is damaging. It slowly shapes public perception of what migrants are like. It creates unreliable stereotypes from selective cases, one of which involved a man visibly in the throes of a mental health episode. It erodes the public's confidence in a multicultural future that Việt Nam is, by every indicator, already moving towards. And it quietly diminishes the contributions of the many foreigners who have shown up here, learned the language, built businesses, started families and stayed.

It is cheap. As someone from a country where the conduct of migrants has been heavily weaponised by the media, I am concerned. I do not for a moment believe the authors of such pieces sit with smug faces, intent on sowing division. But journalism that shapes how a society sees its outsiders requires integrity and carries a responsibility heavier than the day's click count. The media are currently standing with a shovel, kicking the dirt and staring into the distance before deciding whether to build a road that is very hard to travel back down. I hope we choose wisely. VNS