Let's be clear about one thing: no-one made the crowd congregate on Castle St on Saturday night; no-one forced them to go to the pub and get liquored up, some to the point of fall-down drunkenness; no-one forced them to go out and take advantage of the rock-bottom booze specials seemingly designed for the weekend; no-one asked them to act up for the cameras; no-one coerced the more reckless among them to heave bottles, stones and expletives at the gathered constabulary.
Ultimately, no-one is responsible for their behaving like lobotomised morons other than themselves.
And yet, for all that, a sense of unease should attach itself to other "actors" in another drama portraying Dunedin, and its university, in a poor light.
The promos for it began towards the end of last week.
The participants were interviewed as to their hopes and expectations for the big event; the cameras followed them as they made the trip south, noting their progress and reporting their mood.
But beneath the fun and frivolity stirred a portentous foreboding.
By the time Saturday rolled around, we had a "happening" on our hands and the smart money - in the form of production crews and reporters rostered on in advance - suggested it was going to be televisual.
So evolved the latest episode of the local annual reality TV series: the 2008 Unofficial Undie 500 Show.
As it happened, Saturday produced an unseasonably sunny afternoon: after hibernating for months the sun put in a cameo to warm things up.
It was a good day for drinking.
And just in case we had lost the plot, or missed the coming story entirely, Saturday night's early evening TV news cut to the streets for a preview: as a sort of All Quiet on the Western Front sortie, gauging the mood and appetite for battle, acquiring footage for the bookending before and after shots.
In the end, it was a news editor's dream.
About midnight, there was a confrontation between a gathering of boozed up young people emerging from the Gardens hostelry, many of whom were alleged to be students, and the local constabulary, most of whom - like the media - had come in anticipation of a riot.
They were suitably attired and equipped.
Predictably, the obnoxious, idiotic few baited the boys in blue and the boys in blue responded.
Riot-police formations advanced. Crowds jeered and chanted.
It was perfect. A spontaneous news event made for television, and for once, the cameras were right there. Fancy that.
In this age of celebrity and notoriety, the inclination towards a 15-minute sashay down the runway of infamy is compounded by an evolving trend on the part of the electronic media towards highlighting the visual, the sensational, the sought-after sound bite and the trite commentary.
Yet all of us who work in the media - who are society's eyes and ears - have a right and a duty to report on public unrest and other incidents of interest. Whatever our qualms, to ignore the news would have been a serious dereliction.
So while those who have pointed the finger of blame at the media might not be entirely off beam, isn't the set of circumstances surrounding the "disorder" a little more multifaceted? Yes, of course the young people involved must accept responsibilty for their actions.
But are the police, who deployed tactics arguably calculated to get a rise out of a crowd of inebriated big-noters, beyond reproach?
What about the city's supermarkets, who outdid themselves in their efforts to sell booze for the occasion? What of their social responsibility?
While we're about it, let's not forget the landlords of north Dunedin who have done little or nothing over the years to sponsor student pride in their surroundings; nor the city council for allowing substandard housing to persist.
And neither should we ignore the university itself: it has sat on its hands for far too long over the escalating profile of its Scarfie "party-animal" habitat - one inextricably entwined, many will tell you, with the quintessential Otago university experience.
All this contextual material would be perfect for an investigative current affairs television segment.
But we don't appear to do those any more.
They are costly and they involve energy, intelligence and commitment.
It seems we prefer reality TV, especially when it can be portrayed as truly "real".
Simon Cunliffe is assistant editor at the Otago Daily Times.
