Best frenemies: politicians and the press

Great article by David Runciman about why British politicians are so afraid of the newspapers. Excerpt:

Politicians are always complaining that the 24-hour media cycle doesn’t give them time to think because the story is always changing. But there is another problem. As well as having short attention spans, newspapers also have long ones. They are still there long after the politicians have gone, which means they always get the last word. At the beginning of the film The Queen, Tony Blair is ushered into Downing Street and told by his monarch that he is her 10th prime minister. It is not hard to imagine a similar scene being played out in the court of Rupert Murdoch. David Cameron, after all, is his seventh prime minister. Murdoch resembles the Queen in more ways than he might like to admit. As well as being autocratic, press power also tends to be dynastic (the Daily Mail still belongs to the Rothermeres; Murdoch is still desperate to pass some newspapers to his children, as his father passed some newspapers to him). A lot depends on being able to outlast the politicians. The web has undone plenty of things about the newspaper business, but so far it hasn’t undone that. Newspaper owners can keep their power in the family in a way that democratic politicians can’t, however much some of them (the Clintons, the Bushes) might like to try.

One day soon that might change. The web, as well as altering the way we consume news, has also speeded up the business cycle: online enterprises rise and fall much faster than traditional media operations. As yet, this hasn’t reached the newspaper business. No new national title has been launched for more than two decades, and none has gone out of business, with the exception of the News of the World. But if newspapers start folding, and newspaper ownership starts changing hands more rapidly than it has done in the past, that might finally break the spell of the press barons. If it does happen, though, the politicians won’t simply feel relief. They will also feel a pang of regret and perhaps even of panic. The web, for all its ability to cut newspapers down to size, can’t offer politicians the same comforts. Newspapers represent the sort of power that politicians know, understand and respect. However much they might complain, as Blair did in his dying days in office, about the “feral” qualities of the press, it is nothing compared with the feral qualities of the web. No one can control it. As Henry Kissinger complained of Europe, when you want to call the internet, who do you call? At least Murdoch offered that reassurance – a voice at the end of the line.

Earlier in the piece, Runciman makes a perceptive observation that the real power of British newspapers comes not from determining the outcome of elections (apolitical readers don’t do what they’re advised by editorial writers) but from their ability to foment and amplify enmities and rivalries within parties and governments — which gives electorates the impression of the one thing voters apparently hate, namely internal bickering and feuding.

Worth reading in full.

James Murdoch’s dilemma

Very sharp comment by Damien Tambini of LSE.

His latest testimony in front of the Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee showed that James Murdoch is in an impossible situation. To Parliament he basically has to say he knew very little of the industrial scale illegal intrusions on privacy that we now know were going on at News International. To his shareholders however, he has to maintain that he and his executives were in control of the company. In his testimony he has now had to repeatedly claim that he forgot meetings, did not follow up on information given to him and in particular that he appears to have had a ‘cavalier’ approach to in signing off a number of out of court settlements that cost the company a total of several million pounds. The allegation is that the payments were knowingly made at such high levels in order to close down the story, but Murdoch has claimed throughout that he approved the astronomical payments without any knowledge of the wider implications of these cases to the company.

Given the situation he finds himself in, James Murdoch gave a reasonable performance. But Murdoch is not an elected politician, and the performance itself is a secondary issue for shareholders. They have to ask a range of questions: whether the testimony demonstrates that James Murdoch was in effective control of the company and continues to be and in particular whether his testimony makes it likely that there will be a significant change to the business and regulatory environment for the company.

Geeky delights

This is why (a) I love geeks and (b) the rest of the world wonders what they’ve been smoking!

Er, full disclosure. I have a fancy piece of software that takes my digital photographs and processes them to mimic the grain pattern of, say, Tri-X B&W (i.e. analogue) film. When I demonstrate it to normal, rational people they shake their heads in wonderment and talk about leading-edge uselessness.

Textual perversions

I’ve been testing the Dragon dictation App on the iPad and iPhone. Here’s the test passage with the corrections/omissions encased in square brackets.

Dear I [iPad] this is a most interesting development, and one that I hope we will be able to build on. If I can master [it] adequately I think it would make me more efficient. [On] The other hand, it might seem very strange to others to watch somebody talking to the screen. But if the fish is the games [efficiency gains] were worthwhile then I think I would be able to overcome my embarrassment.

I really like the way it interpreted “efficiency gains” and “fish is the games”! But for short passages (e.g. SMS) it’s often accurate enough — especially given the way iPhone/iPad autocorrect creatively garbles what I type.

British diplomacy

I’m writing about last week’s London Confererence on Cyberspace and while doing some background research came on a splendid YouTube video made by the British Ambassador to Mexico — in both English and flawless Spanish. But — you know how it is with YouTube — what should appear on the side but this wonderful Monty Python sketch about the British Embassy in Smolensk.

The result of this serendipitous discovery is that I have been unable to write for at least five minutes on account of a severe outbreak of uncontrollable laughter. You have been warned.