There’s more of a difference between radio and television than the fact that TV has pictures. I first understood this when I moderated a panel that was to be recorded for later airing on both.

It was an excellent panel, and afterward, I watched the raw video to help with the final TV edit. There were five guests – each famous or prominent, or both, and the fellas on the panel all got along swell. The one woman – other than me – actually didn’t quite agree with them, although she was pleasant about it and very professional.

From the video it was obvious she wasn’t glamorous, which was noticeable only because we’re so used to seeing good-looking faces on the tube. And like most people, she had not cultivated the animated, head-tilting, light-catching mannerisms of someone accustomed to being televised.

Several weeks later I was driving in my car, when on came the broadcast of our panel. Since I’d seen the raw video again and again, I could practically reenact it word-for-word. When it came to the point where the woman I was referring to started to politely disagree, it was arguably impressive. She was disagreeing with a famous astronaut, a powerful general, a representative from the White House and the head of a global foundation. And I knew exactly what she was going to say.

What I didn’t see coming was that her voice alone – carried on the radio – brought me to another place. It was compelling. Transfixing. She made one striking point after another. I was not deceived by her looks. It was as if I had heard her for the very first time.

This is a lesson about the nature of being human, being victims – if you will – of our bodies, how our brains process information differently when solely listening to audio as opposed to our eyes and our ears both at once.

This, in a nutshell, is the power of radio, far, far beyond the glitz of TV.

I’d not thought of this experience for many years until two incidents, two days running.

The first was a television documentary about Timothy Treadwell, who was fascinated by brown bears, and spent time getting close to them – physically close to them – in the wilds of Alaska. Three years ago he and a companion were mauled to death by a bear while they were camping. By happenstance, he had turned on his video camera, although the lens cap had remained in place.

The grizzling outcome was an audio of their horrific deaths, and the documentary showed a producer listening to the tape in front of Treadwell’s closest family member. She had never listened to the recording herself, although she is sitting there while he did so. At one point the producer ripped off his headphones, looked at her in earnest, and said, “You must never listen to this tape.”

The next morning, I went out to my front porch, picked up my paper and settled in for my daily perusal. The story was just one among many, but the headlines were clear as a bell: “Panic and chaos on new tapes from 9/11 … Newly released recordings of calls from burning towers.”

While the towers were burning, some 1,600 emergency calls came in. Of these, 31 came from inside the World Trade Center itself.

There have been lawsuits about gaining access to these tapes, and now – five years later - they are finally being heard.

Knowledge is power, but let’s not forget that technology is a two-edged sword. The ability to relive human anguish at this level is unprecedented in human history. We must be cautious, where perhaps we were once cavalier.

I'm Moira Gunn. This is Five Minutes.