Books

Books

New news globocorp

The Murdoch Archipelago by Bruce Page; Simon & Schuster; Rs.520; 580 pp

Within the rapidly emerging global marketplace a new transnational media order is assuming shape and form. In this age of globe girdling satellite television, digital printing and publishing, news can be transmitted across continents in a matter of minutes. This new development was most dramatically showcased by the global television news channel CNN which brought live, minute-by-minute coverage of the wars fought in Iraq in 1991 and in 2003 into the living rooms of middle class India. Similarly the internet and digital technology have revolutionised newspaper publishing making most newspapers and magazines available online. In this new era of satellite television and the internet, the days when an Indian traveller abroad or a foreign tourist in this country didn’t know what’s happening back home are gone forever.

Over this scenario which promises unprecedented freedom of the press and intensive scrutiny of the multiplying acts of commission, omission and misgovernance of governments around the world, looms the large and somewhat sinister shadow of media tycoon and press baron extraordinaire, the (currently) US-based Rupert Murdoch. Arguably the most powerful media magnate in global history, because unlike the much celebrated and feared press barons of the past — Randolph Hearst (USA), Northcliffe and Beaverbrook (UK) — whose power and influence were contained within national boundaries, Murdoch’s influence is global.

Through his closely-held company News Corporation, Murdoch owns several newspapers and television channels in his native Australia; the Sunday Times, the News of the World, The Sun and the upscale The Times, London (once the most influential news daily in the world) in Britain, and the New York Post and several smaller newspapers in the US. And perhaps most important, News Corp also owns the BSkyB television platform which enables Murdoch to beam satellite television programmes (including the Fox news channel) to any and every nation worldwide, while limiting access to the platform of troublesome rivals.

Prima facie there’s nothing wrong about one individual owning so many influential papers and television channels. On the contrary, it could be evidence of entrepreneurial skill. But unfortunately as former journalist Bruce Page, the author of this remarkably well-researched book illustrates with telling examples, the News Corp business model is to cosy up to governments and ruling parties to secure business advantage rather than full disclosure of the acts of commission and omission of powerful governments who could be of present or future use to the company. This argues Page, who worked at the Sunday Times in the weekly’s pre-Murdoch era when under the leadership of editor Harold Evans it invented investigative journalism, is the very antithesis of the basic canons of news publishing and is creating an amoral global media monopoly, jeopardising the spreading global democracy movement.

Leveraging media influence to install friendly governments in nations scattered across the world to create "a corporatist sense of partnership with holders or likely holders of power" apart, the other enduring contribution of Murdoch to the media and communications industry is low-brow ‘tabloidisation’ or trivialisation of news. Though the Australian newpapers Rupert inherited from his father Sir Keith Murdoch were pastmasters in reporting scandal and trivia, the process of exporting tabloid journalism characterised by prominent all caps headlines and cavalier admixture of news and comment began in right earnest after a clever manoeuvre and delicious revenge of a Down Under colonial. In 1969 Murdoch acquired News of the World, Britain’s largest selling muck-raking Sunday tabloid (circulation 6 million). In a package deal he also acquired the The Sun, then a floundering daily tabloid.

Within the space of a decade, essentially by out-mirroring the Daily Mirror which provides a dumbed-down mix of pro-Labour political comment, salacious gossip, pictures of models and movie stars in various stages of undress and comic strips, The Sun was transformed into Britain’s largest selling daily with a massive circulation of 4 million. But while the Mirror remained pro-Labour, The Sun backed a new rising star in Britain’s political firmament — Margaret Thatcher — who swept to power in the general election of 1979.

Having backed the right horse in British politics, Murdoch wasted little time in influencing the newly installed government to help him scale up and acquire the best-selling Sunday Times and The Times in a package deal. According to Page, Mrs. Thatcher’s government exercised its discretion in Murdoch’s favour by exempting News Corp’s acquisition of the two newspapers from reference to the Monopolies Commission on the ground that taken together, the two newspapers were not "economic going concerns" despite the Sunday Times being highly profitable. At that time supposedly cast-iron guarantees were made to the board of Times Newspapers Ltd that the editorial independence of the two newspapers would be respected. But in short order Harold Evans the wunderkind editor of ST was out and William Rees-Mogg, the editor of The Times followed soon after. Within the Murdoch archipelago, editorial independence is old-fashioned; only those who meticulously toe the Murdoch line survive.

The tone and tenor of this riveting book makes it plain that Page is not a Murdoch fan, hardly surprising considering that Page is a former professional journalist writing about a media mogul who has turned every canon of professional journalism on its head. Thus the independence of the editor evokes little more than wry smiles within the global News Corp archipelago; blatant toadying to the ruling establishment whether in Australia, Britain, the US and latterly China is the unwritten rule which means that anti-establishment stories are suppressed; comment and facts are fudged in the amazingly dumbed down sensational headlines of The Sun and clones which set the pace in the News Corp stable. Even quality papers like the Sunday Times and The Times, by incrementally imitating the Page 3 culture of the tabloids, are a shadow of the innovative, news-breaking newspapers they once were. Ditto television channels: it’s soaps and popular entertainment all the way.

Unfortunately Murdoch’s ‘success’ has made the News Corp business model popular around the world. Right here in India as well, the concept of the primacy of the editor is dead and high-profile publishers micro-manage and overrule editors with impunity. Worse, tabloid style Page 3 culture has infiltrated into the most respected newspapers in the country with even financial dailies and magazines switching to a new jokey style of pro-establishment reportage. In the process, serious development issues and particularly news from the rural hinterland where the great majority of people suffer mind-boggling socio-economic injustice, receive scant attention in the new 21st century newspapers and television channels (including News Corp’s Star TV pan-Asia channel) following the successful News Corp model.

News has to be entertaining, or it’s not worth printing or broadcasting. That’s the magic mantra of News Corp and its panting imitators. And God save those who don’t chant it.

Dilip Thakore

Pale comparison

Digital Fortress by Dan Brown; Corgi Books; Price: Rs.567; 510 pp

Dan Brown author of the Da Vinci Code which has been on the New York Times bestsellers list for an unprecedented three years is assured of a place of honour in book publishing history. This religious history thriller which advances an outrageous proposition, has spawned a cult following and several connected industries. To cash in on the outstanding success of Da Vinci Code, publishers not surprisingly reprinted his earlier works expecting newly won Brown fans to lap them up with the same enthusiasm.

This reviewer bought the reprinted Digital Fortress expecting a replay of the riveting plot which made Da Vinci Code a transnational bestseller. But unfortunately it pales in comparison. Digital Fortress (first published in 1998), though a la Da Vinci Code is a fast-paced thriller, is set in cyberspace and doesn’t have the same optimal mix of art, adventure, popular history and romance. In Digital Fortress Brown, a former English and creative writing teacher, explores the subject of internet security and how e-mail messages, popularly perceived as a never-before safe and secure mode of instant communication, can be accessed and read by enemy security agencies across the world. It’s a gripping techno-thriller alright, but likely to appeal only to technophiles and computer geeks.

The book begins with an emergency within the United States’ National Security Agency (NSA) where its state-of-the-art advanced tech code-breaking computer ‘TRANSLTR’ with more than a million processors, encounters a mysterious code it can’t break. Trevor Strathmore, deputy director of the agency summons NSA head cryptographer, Susan Fletcher, a brilliant mathematician to break the mysterious code. What she uncovers sends shock waves through corridors of governmental power. NSA is being held hostage by software so complex that if not decrypted in time it will cripple America’s global intelligence gathering network. Thus begins a real or rather virtual war in cyberspace, where the ‘bomb’ (an encryption algorithm) will explode, exposing the entire American defence ministry’s intelligence data to any and everyone.

The villain in Digital Fortress is Ensie Tankado, a mathematics wizard, encryption software expert and former NSA employee, who scripts a coded algorithm with the potential to cripple NSA’s capability of accessing data transmitted on the information superhighway. It is this code which has stumped the TRANSLTR. Born with deformed fingers due to the effects of nuclear radiation his mother suffered when Hiroshima was nuked in 1945, Tankado grows up nurturing a deep-seated hatred of the United States. Later he reads about Japanese war crimes and Pearl Harbour and his hatred for America slowly fades. He starts learning about computers in his 12th year and by 20, Tankado is a cult figure among programmers and is offered a job in Texas by IBM. Thereafter, Tankado rides a wave of fame and fortune writing algorithms, prompting NSA to offer him a job in its crypto team.

A human rights activist, Tankado quits NSA when he learns that through TRANSLTR the agency can access and open every e-mail message and reseal it without anybody the wiser. A firm believer of the Latin aphorism quis custodiet ipsos custodes (who will guard the guardians?) he tries to go public about TRANSLTR and its capability with the help of Electronic Frontier Foundation — an online group of people championing the right to privacy — but is captured, accused of spying and deported to Japan. To take revenge for his disgraceful exit from the NSA and US, Tankado designs Digital Fortress and unleashes it on TRANSLTR.

Digital Fortress holds the reader’s attention from start to finish, despite some elaborate descriptions of processors and code breaking algorithms which could put off technophobes. But everyone is likely to experience an uneasiness about the internet and e-mail after reading this book, a feeling born out of the realisation that somewhere across the world, someone may be reading your online correspondence. Technophiles on the other hand may get to work on evolving their own unbreakable codes to encrypt their e-mail, in the awareness that a TRANSLTR clone could be eavesdropping.

An updated version of Big Brother could be watching…

Srinidhi Raghavendra