Murdoch media on the attack

Getting attacked in the media is no fun. Ten years ago, it happened to me, beginning with a front-page story in The Australian. So when I heard about a new book titled Getting Murdoched, I just had to read it. It helped put my experiences in perspective.

            Rupert Murdoch is one of Australia’s highest-value exports. From his father, he inherited a major Australian media company, and built it into something far bigger and more powerful. Called News Corp, or News for short, it acquired newspapers and television channels, becoming the dominant mass media presence in the country. But Murdoch wanted more, and expanded to Britain and the US. To enable US operations, he took out US citizenship.


Rupert Murdoch

            This is the economic side of the picture. The other side is ideological. Murdoch’s media outlets are well known for their highly partisan, right-wing politics. This political slant is combined with appeals to prejudice, in a style designed to highlight scandal. Many see it as a degradation of journalism.

            Occasionally, I leaf through Sydney’s daily newspaper The Daily Telegraph. It is notable for being relentlessly critical of the Australian Labor Party, trade unions, indeed any progressive cause.

            On top of that, Murdoch’s media often go on the attack, targeting individuals who are emblems of what they oppose. Typical targets are women, human rights campaigners, Indigenous figures, and anyone who tries to challenge the Murdoch media. The stories of these attacks are told, with great care, in Getting Murdoched. There are many books about Murdoch and Murdoch media; this one focuses on their targets.

            The chapters in the book cover the main targets: progressive political figures, foreigners, critics of mindless patriotism, women, queers, “scumbag celebrities,” those who get in the way of Murdoch’s ambitions, climate campaigners, and finally “people who haven’t suffered enough.” It’s quite a roll call of attack victims, and the stories aren’t pretty.


Lachlan Murdoch

Attack stories

Here’s a sample of the many cases described in Getting Murdoched.

* Anita Heiss, a Wiradjuri woman, was attacked by Andrew Bolt in Melbourne’s newspaper the Herald Sun as being too white, as being a “political Aborigine.”

* Sarah Schwartz, “a young Jewish lawyer who has campaigned against Israel’s human rights abuses,” was the subject of a contrived controversy.


Sarah Schwartz

* Scott McIntyre, a journalist at Australia’s Special Broadcasting Service, tweeted comments about myths about Anzac Day, a public holiday commemorating Australian and New Zealand troops. After a pile-on by Murdoch media, he was dismissed.

* Julia Gillard, Australia’s first female prime minister: “The Australian waged an unremitting campaign over many months about an ancient, inconsequential issue from her days as a lawyer doing pro bono work for a union in which her then boyfriend was an official.”

* Trans influencer Dylan Mulvaney was engaged to promote US beer Bud Light. Fox News mounted a campaign leading to a national boycott.

* Welsh singer Charlotte Church sang at Rupert Murdoch’s third wedding. Nevertheless, for years she was “hounded by the British tabloids”; Murdoch journalists hacked her phone.

* Over six years, The Australian published numerous articles, mostly hostile, about individuals who had criticised the newspaper: Julie Posetti (35), Margaret Simons (138), Robert Manne (269), Julian Disney (128) and Paul Barry (117).


Julie Posetti

* British climate scientist Michael Mann was vilified by Fox News, reflecting the Murdoch media’s persistent support for climate sceptics.

* Bob and Sally Dowler’s daughter Milly went missing in 2002, in Surrey, England. Journalists at Murdoch’s News of the World hacked Milly’s phone and ran stories drawing on private information.

Methods

Dodd and Ricketson tell about the attacks in a clear, straightforward way. If you had heard about some of them before — for example, the media harassment of Yassmin Abdel-Magied, causing her to leave Australia — the treatment here provides a convenient summary.


Yassmin Abdel-Magied

Quite a few are likely to be unfamiliar. The authors are meticulous in their writing, as they need to be to avoid being sued for defamation.

            In the beginning, they summarise the four main Murdoch-media attack tactics.

  1. Publish many articles contesting every possible point, so the target’s ideas are swamped.
  2. Attack personally, repeatedly, without compassion.
  3. Ignore critics of the Murdoch media, even when they are newsworthy.
  4. Continue asserting things shown to be false.


Matthew Ricketson

Dodd and Ricketson tried to contact the subjects of their stories, to learn about the personal effects of being murdoched. Many were willing to comment, and for most the experience was unpleasant, often highly traumatic. Some of the targets were personally tough, but it’s not just a matter of refusing to give in. The trouble is that the target’s family, friends and colleagues are reading the stream of bile, and some of them are influenced by it. Furthermore, some attacks are against family members.

            Dodd and Ricketson save the most horrible story to the end: the widespread hacking of people’s phones in Britain, including royalty and the parents of missing children. When this was exposed, it caused widespread revulsion.

What to do?

Murdoch’s media empire is large, profitable and influential. When you’re a target of a ruthless, pitiless media onslaught, what can you do? That’s an individual decision. The bigger question is, what can be done about a rogue media organisation, one that has forsaken the classic media principle of holding the powerful to account, instead serving itself and the powerful by attacking those less powerful? Dodd and Ricketson examine options, few of them promising.


Andrew Dodd

            They conclude that governments can’t be relied upon to address abuses, because News has too much leverage. Courts can’t be the solution, because News has more money and staying power, and is willing to spend millions to make plaintiffs go away.

            Complaining to media regulators is usually a waste of time. In Britain, the chair of the Independent Press Standards Organisation testified that of 8000 complaints received, just one was upheld. Toothless indeed. If only people knew, they wouldn’t bother.

            There is some hope. Journalists from other media organisations can challenge Murdoch media. News constantly attacks the ABC, in part because ABC journalists expose News bias.

            Dodd and Ricketson propose a strategy: build a coalition to push for regulation (including of social media), support independent media, and encourage media literacy. Sounds good, but who will take the lead?

            For individuals under attack, Dodd and Ricketson note the advice given by Malcolm Turnbull, former Australian prime minister: respond to every falsehood quickly and strongly. This is contrary to the advice from many media managers to say nothing, called starving the story of oxygen. That was the advice I was given.

The Australian attacks

In January 2016, there was a front-page story in The Australian attacking one of my PhD students, Judy Wilyman, whose thesis had just been posted on the university’s website. The article’s title included a false claim.

This article triggered a wider onslaught. On the website of the newspaper, there were hundreds of hostile comments. The university’s Twitter account was swamped with criticisms. Soon there was a petition asking the government to sanction the university. A one-sided account was added to the university’s Wikipedia page. Opponents of Judy’s research, within the university, pushed for her thesis to be investigated.

            While Judy was the primary target, I was a secondary target, as was the university. Over the following weeks, The Australian published a series of attack articles, but interest from other mainstream media was limited.


One of many tweets on a Twitter account set up to attack Judy, me and the university

            Judy’s research had been under attack for years, so senior university officials knew there would be an attack when her thesis was posted online. We prepared. I wrote a commentary posted at the same time, anticipating the attack. I wrote a response that was published in The Australian, and a detailed analysis of the original attack article, as well as responsesto several related attack articles, putting everything on my website.

            Ironically, the attack turned out to have some positives. It triggered great interest in Judy’s thesis, which was eventually downloaded tens of thousands of times, far more than any other thesis at the university. For me, as a researcher into suppression of dissent, the attack offered a wealth of material for social analysis. The university administration, which defended its procedures and did not buckle, showed its commitment to academic freedom.

            This was just one experience of being murdoched. If there are any lessons, they are: (1) be prepared for an attack; (2) cultivate allies, especially your employer; (3) respond carefully to every claim; (4) use the opportunity to gain greater attention to your views.

            Unfortunately, few targets of murdoching are in such a good position. The attacks are often unexpected and unending, potential allies fade away, and the experience is so distressing that responding is emotionally difficult.

            If you are a potential target, for whatever reason, read Getting Murdoched and do what you can to prepare. And whenever you’re aware of someone else being savaged by the Murdoch media, or other media for that matter, reach out to support them. In the midst of an attack, messages of sympathy are greatly valued.

Brian Martin
bmartin@uow.edu.au

Thanks to Jungmin Choi and Kelly Gates for helpful comments.

Outrage as a tool

Are you angry about something you saw online? Be careful, your emotion might be used as part of a campaign.

Imagine you run a chain of businesses in the US and decide to update your signage. You’ve already begun making the change at some shops, but then some social media campaigners start claiming this is a traitorous instance of wokeism, demanding that you revert to the old logo. Easy to ignore, right? Not if the campaigners are joined online by thousands of others, and they call for a boycott of your operations. It’s absurd, but it’s costing you a lot of money, so you acquiesce before the damage becomes too great.

            This is an actual case. It happened to the restaurant chain Cracker Barrel. What’s going on? Is it some sort of madness? Is it collective bullying, called mobbing? Yes, but why? Welcome to angertainment, a fusion of anger and entertainment, enabled by social media.

            This is the first of many stories in Ed Coper’s new book Angertainment. Coper is a long-time activist in Australia, helping set up the online site GetUp that supports progressive campaigns. He then took his expertise to other countries and campaigns, thinking social media was the ideal platform for left-wing causes. But the political climate shifted. Right-wingers became adept at using social media, and before long it became risky for anyone visible in the mainstream to support causes stigmatised by the right-wing mobs. Coper’s main focus is on those commonly called conservative, right-wing or MAGA. He says they have mastered the use of social media for manufacturing outrage when it isn’t warranted.

The uses of anger

Anger, directed outward, towards others, is called outrage. It can be used for positive purposes, to oppose injustice. People become angry when they see things they believe are unfair, such as discrimination, abuse, murder and torture. When outrage is harnessed and directed towards the sources of injustice, it lies at the foundations of social movements against oppression and exploitation.

            Coper is concerned about anger used in a different way, when it is directed for partisan political purposes, facilitated by social media. The first part of Angertainment covers social research on how people’s views are shaped. This might have been a boring tour of findings, but Coper spices up the journey with stories and colourful commentary.

            Social media platforms are not set up to serve the public interest, but rather to make a profit. They are less like libraries and more like bookshops. And what do they sell? Attention, because that’s what advertisers pay for. The longer you stay on Facebook or Instagram, or the more you use Google, the more money they make. These companies hire talented psychologists who devise ingenious ways to hook users. They do this by intermittent reinforcement. If you post a comment, you usually get just a few likes, but occasionally you get a huge number. It’s like hitting a jackpot. Experimenting to see what strikes a nerve, users learn that extreme content gets more hits. Outrage sells.

            Coper says emotions are contagious, especially collectively experienced emotions, and are even more contagious when they are experienced online concerning political issues. Social media enables using group anger for harm. Part of the problem is that outrage is easier to express online, because individuals are distanced from others. Also, people overestimate how angry others are: they mimic an imagined angry crowd. They would rather engage with others who have extreme views politically. Then there’s information overload, which makes people pay more attention to extreme content. The net result is that the more time people spend on social media, the more susceptible they are to angertainment.

            Coper says political operators in the US feign outrage to manipulate the news, and all that’s needed is to call something woke, as in the case of Cracker Barrel, with “the entire political project these days being an exercise in performative humiliation of your opponents.” (p. 152)

            Here is his summary of the elements of right-wing hysteria campaigns:

“1. Create fear-based emotive narratives and provocative lies.
2. Seed them into existing fringe social media conspiracy networks.
3. Spread them using fake accounts to game social media algorithms.
4. Drown out positive sentiment with troll armies.
5. Advertise them into people’s feeds using innocuous brands.” (p. 178)

It’s hard for me to know how influential such campaigns are. Right-wing hysteria has been around for a long time, for example during the McCarthyist anti-communist campaign in the 1950s. Are things worse today than before? Maybe not, but social media is a new element, and online campaigns introduce new dynamics. This is where Coper’s examination is most valuable.


Ed Coper

            It’s also questionable whether the political left is today a model of rational behaviour, promoting discussion rather than outrage. Coper claims that one side in the culture wars (the left) treats an issue as something to be discussed, whereas the other side (the right) treats it as theatre, as a spectacle. Such an assessment misses the rational voices on the right and theatrics on the left. Despite this one-sidedness, there is much to learn from Coper’s treatment.

Resistance

Best of all, he provides ideas for resistance to angertainment. These are basic things — like listening. Rather than attack someone because of what they say or represent, ask them what they think and listen to them. Stories, especially about shared human experience, reduce in-group favouritism.

            Coper says teaching people how to identify fake news doesn’t work. Better is to help people learn how the system operates, how angertainment is created and how it causes harm. That is precisely Coper’s aim in writing his book.

            A key skill worth acquiring is being able to ignore, to disengage. Social media algorithms are designed to foster engagement. Ignoring bait to engage is not easy, but it does counter the algorithms.

            On the other hand, Coper also says that angertainment needs to be directly countered, and for this he recommends finding compelling big ideas, ones that deal with people’s grievances. And while angertainment remains so prevalent, and changing the system is a long-term project, Coper says we should work within the system by promoting good content.

            This sounds almost contradictory: ignore provocations and disengage from social media, but also promote good content. Well, there are bound to be several ways to respond. Perhaps the biggest challenge is to get people off social media long enough to read a book. Who’s going to read Angertainment — engaging as it is — when they can’t resist doomscrolling? And for those of us not hooked on social media, how can we help others to kick the habit? I don’t have any good answers, but there are initiatives in schools to get students off their devices.

            Coper explains how social media campaigns can spill out into the mass media, but it can work the other way too, with confected outrage initiated in the mass media taken up in social media. Nevertheless, Coper is on to something important, something that people need to know more about.

Outrage dynamics

As I read Angertainment, one thing puzzled me: what’s the connection between angertainment, understood as weaponising popular outrage, and the sort of outrage dynamics that I had been studying for the past 20 years? In what I called the backfire model, powerful groups regularly use several methods to reduce public outrage from their actions. Consider torture, something most people see as horrible. Governments involved in torture typically use five sorts of methods to reduce public outrage.

  1. Secrecy. When people don’t know about something, they can’t be outraged by it.
  2. Devaluation. The victims of torture are called traitors, terrorists or criminals. When someone is seen as despicable, as less than human, as undeserving, then what is done to them doesn’t seem so bad.
  3. Reinterpretation. Perpetrators lie about what happens, minimise the consequences, blame others, and frame themselves as defenders of what is right.
  4. Official channels. When torture is exposed, and there is clamour to hold perpetrators responsible, official channels like investigative bodies and courts give the impression of offering justice, but often give only a semblance of it.
  5. Intimidation. Perpetrators threaten and attack those who speak out. Torture victims are often afraid to testify, fearing further harm.

All these methods were used by the US government and its supporters in the case of torture at Abu Ghraib Prison in Iraq, exposed in 2004.

            Now consider the outrage that drives angertainment. How are these five methods involved? A little reflection shows that each one is involved in its opposite. Consider the campaign against Great Northern, an Australian beer company, over its offer to match donations to buy private land for national parks. (Coper, pp. 182-184)

  1. Cover-up. Well, there’s no cover-up of the alleged wrong (support for the land purchases). Instead, it is trumpeted far and wide.
  2. Devaluation. The perpetrator (Great Northern) is the one denigrated and belittled — as woke.
  3. Reinterpretation. What the target of the campaign did (match donations) is blown up into something of great significance. This is the opposite of lying about or minimising the action.
  4. Official channels. These aren’t used to give an appearance of justice. Instead, they are ignored or rejected. An attack, based on a judgement, is mounted immediately without waiting for an investigation or adjudication.
  5. Intimidation. The target, the alleged perpetrator (Great Northern), is the one subject to intimidation.           

What can we do with this analysis? It provides a set of criteria for deciding whether outrage is over something important. The key is to look at the target of the campaign. Is it a powerful organisation doing something harmful? Or something else?

Brian Martin
bmartin@uow.edu.au

Thanks to Kelly Gates, Marina Granato, Suzzanne Gray, Anneleis Humphries, Olga Kuchinskaya and Elliot Temple for helpful comments.