The retirement of media magnate Rupert Murdoch has prompted an outpouring of fawning commentary about the man and his media empire. Speculation about which of his children would inherit his multibillion dollar media behemoth, and the conflicts between siblings that would ensue, is rife. What the corporate media are ignoring however, is the sinister and ruthless heart of the media colossus Murdoch constructed.
Murdoch destroyed many lives to get where he is. I have written previously on the Murdochisation of the media, turning journalism into tabloid gossip, which obsessive celebrity culture, free-market zealotry, and pro-war jingoistic propaganda. The media he acquired forms, in the words of John Pilger, a cultural Chernobyl.
It is not only the poisonous role his media organisations have played, and the political influence they wield, which is buried by the congratulatory coverage of Murdoch’s retirement. The methods he used to build a media business model involved smashing working class organisations and families, and left a trail of broken communities. The staggering financial profits of News Corp, however admirable it may be to fans of corporate profit, is built on the bodies of the people struck down by the Wapping conflict.
What is Wapping? A bitter and vicious industrial dispute in 1986, the Wapping issue signalled the ascent of Murdoch, and the irreversible change of the corporatised media into tabloid journalism. Murdoch, already a wealthy man owning a string of high-circulation newspapers, wanted to increase his control of media outlets in Britain. He bought News of the World in 1968, the Sun in 1969, and the Times and other papers in 1981. Already a global media baron, he took it upon himself not just to buy another paper, but to undermine worker solidarity in the print media industry.
A bit of background here is necessary. In 1984-85, the miners strike swept British politics. Divisions were crisscrossing the nation. Murdoch’s newspapers published hate-filled rhetoric about the miners, denouncing them as traitors and hooligans. The print workers, who controlled the linotype typesetting technology used to print the news, refused to print the vicious and scurrilous vitriol of the Murdoch press.
The print workers, showing solidarity with the miners, raised the ire of Murdoch. The latter portrayed the print unions as luddites, wedded to an obsolete technology. To be sure, typesetting was an ancient technology by the 1980s. The print workers, 6000 of them, had spent their working lives with the old typesetting methods. Technology always changes, and we all have to adapt, to be sure.
In the days before computerisation and the internet, people read their news in newspapers. Today, we consume news online and newspaper circulation has declined.
So while the old printing presses had to be changed, and technological innovation implemented, Murdoch’s false portrayal of print workers as technologically resistant diehard Bolsheviks served to disguise his intention to smash working class communities. Taking advantage of the Thatcher government’s anti-union laws, Murdoch went through the motions of negotiations with the printing union. In the meantime, he built his non-union computerised newspaper plant at Wapping, dubbed by journalists as a fortress.
Picket lines were formed, and the dispute escalated. Murdoch chose, not to transition his workforce into new jobs or training, but to smash Fleet Street’s powerful unions. The print workers, 6000 of them, were sacked, and the protesters were isolated. Murdoch and his Tory allies, confronted by a pusillanimous Labour bureaucracy, crushed the print workers, their survival be damned.
Police were deployed to break the bones of the picketers, and break the strike. That victory launched Murdoch as a powerful media mogul not to be trifled with, willing to deploy the resources of the state against his working class opponents.
The former print workers, their jobs lost, went on to succumb to depression, marriage breakdowns, suicide, anxiety and all the ills associated with deindustrialisation.
I am of the computerised, IT generation, and it is incumbent upon people like me to never forget the bitterly divisive origins of today’s IT-driven journalism. The News Corp effect, promoting the neoliberal capitalist ideology of a pure free-market, infects the stories and culture of the Murdoch megalith. The nature of journalism changed, with the promotion of warmongering jingoism, the veneration of wealth acquisition, and the demonisation of the unemployed.
The phone-hacking scandal, with which we are all familiar, is only one part of the Murdoch media’s operating procedures. The victims of the phone-hacking intrusion includes the royals, Hollywood celebrities and wealthy personages; people who have the wealth and connections to fight back. News International employees deployed police bribery, the hiring of private detectives, and improper influence in the pursuit of stories.
Murdoch’s improper influence extends well beyond mobile phones and text messages. The concentration of media ownership in fewer hands, increasing the monopolised character of the corporate media, is the scandal about which no-one is talking. Australia has one of the world’s most heavily monopolised corporate media in the world, and Murdoch’s news outlets predominate the market in every capital city, and most regional areas. It is no exaggeration to describe the Australian media landscape as a Murdochcracy.
Is not media monopolisation, and the strict control of news and information, something for which we repeatedly criticised the Communist nations? In fact, with the relentless pursuit of private profit as its stated goal, News Corp and the Murdoch media machine has operated at a loss for decades. Of course, there are periods of profitability. But by its own standards of dedication to efficiency, News Corp entities post huge financial losses nearly every year. In February this year, News Corp announced another round of job cuts in the face of declining revenues.
Murdoch has spent his media career posturing as ‘anti-elite’ and fighting for the average punter. The punters out there, we are told, need a voice like Murdoch to stand up to the elites, you know, Greenies, climate scientists, welfare recipients, single mothers, indigenous people, refugees, workers – in other words the majority of the population. Murdoch’s background reveals the perverse falsity of this claim to represent the ‘ordinary punters’.
As Walter Marsh wrote, while Murdoch thanked the truck drivers, cleaners and camera operators in his resignation speech, he omitted the thousands of printers, typesetters, typists and journalists who were crushed by his steamrolling megalith to make way for the brave new world.
Hailing from a wealthy family, Murdoch went to Geelong Grammar school, and then off to Oxford. He made his first million while he was young – his father died and passed on the family business. However, the real injustice resides in what Pilger calls the media junta. The corporate media, monopolised by a few powerful corporations, have become Roman-like aristocrats of old, only these days the currency of this empire is news information.
Questioning the structure of the media compels us to ask ourselves what kind of society we want to live in.