AI
Saturday, October 09, 2010 8:00:55 PM
Book: Inside The Secret World Of Rupert Murdoch
By Michael Wolff | smh.com.au | 13 December
In the Weekend Edition of the SMH October 9-10 there is a Memoir .. "Falling out with Rupert", curiously i
cannot find it, it is an edited extract from Man Bites Murdoch by Bruce Guthrie .. thought this may be it, but no.
Rupert Murdoch is portrayed as a doting father
but a ruthless, pragmatic businessman
Rupert Murdoch gave some 50 hours of interviews to the Vanity Fair media columnist Michael Wolff for The Man Who Owns the News and went so far as to encourage and cajole his family, his executives - even his mother, the formidable Dame Elisabeth - to co-operate and open up to the author.
The question is: why?
Wolff told me during his sojourn in Australia to interview Dame Elisabeth and some of the siblings that none of the News Corporation executives he had interviewed understood Murdoch's rationale for wanting to expose himself and his family to the scrutiny of an author he barely knew and seemingly on the basis of one slightly flattering article in Vanity Fair.
Wolff mused that Murdoch's son-in-law, the publicist Matthew Freud, whom he describes in the book "as a man of unspeakable craftiness" and "lounge-lizard smoothness", was pressuring him to do a book so as to burnish the "Murdoch brand and legacy" after the deal that delivered the media mogul the long-coveted Wall Street Journal.
Certainly it is not the first time Murdoch has felt the need to have a third party document a sort of triumphalism he occasionally feels when once again he has proved the naysayers wrong and pulled off yet another deal against all odds.
He did it in 1993 when, having escaped bankruptcy by the skin of his teeth and come back in an aggressive, expansive mode, he gave William Shawcross unfettered access to write a definitive biography, simply titled Murdoch. In 2000 it was the American business journalist Wendi Goldman Rohm who was given Murdoch's blessing to produce an eminently forgettable tome, The Murdoch Mission: The Digital Transformation Of A Media Empire, which painted the tycoon as a digital svengali who would single-handedly lead the world's media into the 21st century. Interestingly, Wolff notes, for someone supposedly leading the charge to the digital future "Murdoch, at 77, can't use a computer, doesn't get email, can't get his cell phone to work properly, can't even imagine changing the variables on a spread sheet".
But if Murdoch was looking to Wolff to burnish his brand, then he must surely regret having exposed himself and those around him to such an acerbic and fearless interrogation that flatters few - with the possible exception of the heir-apparent, James Murdoch, and the "forgotten daughter", Prue.
The News Corporation executives are written off as a B-team of "not the brightest light bulbs" who seek to ingratiate themselves by deferring to anything the boss might want, "never questioning, just doing".
Lachlan Murdoch, perhaps the most unco-operative and suspicious of Wolff's interviewees, comes in for particular and probably unfair treatment. Wolff writes that Murdoch's two most senior lieutenants, chief operating officer Peter Chernin and Fox News chief Roger Ailes, found the one-time heir to the throne "callow, insubstantial and, ironically, un-Murdoch-like". The two men gleefully boasted about having pushed him out of the family business.
Wolff is both charmed by Murdoch's self-effacing manner and good humour and mesmerised by the way in which he seemingly exercises absolute control over his empire and the opportunistic nature of his corporate strategy. Yet at the same time, the author is repelled by the predatory nature of his business dealings - ruthless, cold-hearted and utterly pragmatic.
The thread of the book is the inside story of Murdoch's $US5.2 billion ($8 billion) acquisition of Dow Jones & Co, the owner of The Wall Street Journal, from the Bancroft family and how he and his minions schemed to drive a wedge between the family members who had previously said they would never sell to Murdoch. That insight alone into the inner workings of a business deal in New York makes the book a worthy read.
But between tales of big-deal machinations and revealing interviews with the various Murdoch siblings - Prue, Elisabeth, Lachlan and James - the intriguing part of the book is Wolff's attempts to psychoanalyse his subject and determine "what makes Murdoch run". It is a task made difficult by the fact that Murdoch finds it impossible to talk about his own motivations. "He's not good at explaining himself and gets annoyed and frustrated when he's asked to do so," Wolff writes. For Murdoch, the past is the past; there are no regrets, no looking back; it is all about the future, the next deal, the next trophy for the corporate wall.
As a result, we are left with the author's musings about the Murdoch legacy, his dynastic ambitions and whether the vision for a global media company has never been more than just gut-instinct opportunism.
Central to the narrative is Wolff's view that Murdoch is changing - becoming more liberal
COMMENT .. hmmm, that is at odds with the article which eludes me ..
- and that his "life is now largely spent around people for whom Fox News is a vulgarity and a joke". The catalyst for this, Wolff argues, is Murdoch's marriage in 1999 to his third wife, Wendi Deng, 38 years his junior. "Of all the office affairs in history, Murdoch's may be the biggest cliche, both silly and sweet. This monster, this control freak, this cold bastard, is as blissfully helpless in the face of a determined woman of lowly rank as any lonely, erotically deprived, death-fearing man would be."
Wolff provides plenty of juicy titbits, from Murdoch dying his hair ("obviously and vainly orange - or, occasionally, aubergine") over the bathroom sink to Wendi's IVF treatment, the $US44 million New York penthouse, the sibling rivalry and the fact that Murdoch is, according to one of his executives, a classic "two-pot screamer".
Given the breadth and depth of Wolff's access, this is an important book and certainly the most pertinent and revealing portrait of the most politically powerful media tycoon in the world. It is certainly an accurate portrayal of Murdoch the businessman, capturing him at his pragmatic, devious, deal-making best. But it sheds little light on the private Murdoch who, besides being disarmingly charming, is a doting father and warm, compassionate, generous and loyal to those who serve him.
When the collective Murdoch families gather for Dame Elisabeth's 100th birthday celebrations at Cruden Farm near Melbourne next year, the book should make for some lively discussion. That in itself, might make for a fascinating follow-up. I am just not sure that Wolff will be among the invitees.
Reviewed by Bruce Dover - a former News Corporation senior executive and author of Rupert's Adventures In China (2008).
http://thebigchair.com.au/news/radar/rupert-murdoch
Ok .. try searching .. "Former editor Bruce Guthrie gives a rare insight into
the behind-the scenes machinations of the Murdoch global media empire" .. more on track ..
When Rupert comes to town
October 9, 2010
Former Herald Sun Editor Bruce Guthrie after winning his court case. Photo: Joe Armao
HUGE doors, as wide as they are tall and painted a glistening gold, greet you on the 13th floor of the Herald & Weekly Times tower on Southbank. It's not the sort of decor you expect from the people's paper, the Herald Sun, bought by more than 500,000 a day and read by almost three times that many across Victoria.
The eastern and northern sides of the executive floor are home to HWT's most powerful players, the managing director and the chair of HWT respectively. Between their offices is another, right on the corner. It is the best office in the whole place, but, it is vacant for most of the year, in a constant state of readiness in case The Great Man should drop in. It is Rupert Murdoch's office and on this day, October 27, 2008, he is in town. Consequently, everyone is on edge.
Managing director Peter Blunden, who imagines himself the most influential man in Melbourne, has come to work especially early this day. So has Rupert's sister, Janet Calvert-Jones, HWT chair. The volatile Blunden was my immediate predecessor as editor-in-chief of the Herald Sun and then became my boss. He couldn't really decide whether he liked the job or not.
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As the world financial crisis gripped, robbing the Herald Sun and the Sunday Herald Sun of crucial circulation and advertising revenue, the increasingly vexed Blunden had been heard to say more than once: ''This f---ing job is doing my head in.'' Worse, he would often append some derisory comment about the latest directives from News's head office, such as: ''You won't believe what those c---- in Sydney have done today.'' These outbursts were one part pressure-valve, one part bonding ritual. But they did nothing to engender confidence.
Despite Blunden's reputation as a gifted tabloid editor, I had actually inherited several problems at the Herald Sun: it was losing circulation and readership, and its website was growing more slowly than most. By 2008, I had slowed the paper's sales decline, significantly boosted readership and jump-started our website. It seemed pretty clear I would be at the paper for at least five years.
Midway through morning news conference on October 27, I had been summoned to the 13th floor for a meeting with Rupert Murdoch. These meetings between proprietor and editor were legendary, often humbling and sometimes career-ending. If he was unhappy with my performance on the Herald Sun, this is where I would find out - I would get a bollocking. When I arrived at the conference room, I was surprised to find it wouldn't be a one-on-one. Blunden was there, that day's edition close by. Murdoch arrived last, and in a discursive mood. He spoke in generalities about the state of the business, and expressed a kind of calm resignation about the circulation challenges facing News titles around the world.
Eventually Murdoch picked up a copy of the day's paper.
I tensed.
''Well, Bruce,'' Murdoch said. ''The whole town would have been talking about your page one today. It was very good; just what we need.''
Page one that day featured a whopping great mulloway that a professional fisherman had caught on our behalf in the Yarra as part of a series we had done on the health of the river, and our page one lead reported that bullying and violence were growing in state schools. Both had been hand-picked.
''Thank you, Rupert,'' I said. ''We're trying every day to give the readers stories they won't be able to get anywhere else. It seems to be working. The worst thing that can happen to a daily newspaper is that it becomes a discretionary spend.''
''Yes, yes,'' agreed Murdoch. ''People have to feel they must buy it every day.''
As the meeting wound down I felt uplifted. I now appeared to have Rupert's imprimatur, and that left me pretty much untouchable. How was I to know that sometime that week, perhaps on the very day that he had applauded my performance, Murdoch would sign off on my dismissal, plunging me into a professional crisis? I hadn't factored in his ruthlessness but it should have been clear from our final exchange.
''How is The Age faring these days?'' asked Murdoch.
The general consensus was that we were in a very strong position, prompting the observation that Melbourne could be a one-newspaper town in five years.
Murdoch squared his jaw and looked at us. ''That,'' he said through gritted teeth, ''has to be our goal.''
Straight after my session with Rupert there was a lunch in the HWT dining room. As is usual at such gatherings, Murdoch is afforded such respect that the atmosphere winds up being quite stilted. The most significant moment for me occurred before the lunch got under way.
During my 22 months in the job, Janet Calvert-Jones had been a largely benign presence; we had never had a single one-on-one meeting. That said, she had made it known recently she was unhappy with our reporting on her good friend Christine Nixon, the Victorian police commissioner, caught junketing with Qantas - or, at least, I had been led to believe she was unhappy.
Calvert-Jones had the endearing habit of giving me a peck on the cheek whenever I met her. But at the Monday lunch with her brother she didn't move from her spot as I arrived in the dining room to join the pre-meal drinks. So I advanced on her and planted a kiss on her cheek. I have to admit, looking back, she didn't seem entirely comfortable with this. She may have even shrunk back; certainly there was no warmth in her greeting that day. As the lunch got under way, I was sufficiently troubled by her reaction to reflect on the Nixon coverage. It was fresh in all our minds as we had splashed with it just four days earlier, on October 23, 2008.
Around 12.45pm on the day of publication, Blunden called by my office. ''Janet's upset about our coverage of Christine Nixon this morning,'' Blunden said. It was the only time during my editorship that any concerns she may have had about my performance or the paper's editorial positions had been brought to my attention, hence I regarded it as enormously significant. Blunden said she felt we had gone too hard on Nixon and her husband, who were entitled to take the trip.
''They're mates,'' said Blunden.
I was brought out of my lunchtime reverie when Murdoch unexpectedly made an observation about Nixon: ''I gather the police commissioner has been in trouble.''
''She got into strife for taking a free trip with Qantas that she probably shouldn't have taken,'' I said, adding: ''But basically she's done an OK job over a long time. The good judges reckon she'll give it away in April when her contract is up'' - which she subsequently did.
My comments were as much a peace offering to Calvert-Jones, who sat at her brother's side, as anything else. Murdoch merely nodded and moved on. I was troubled that he had obviously been briefed on the story and quickly concluded it must have come up in discussions with his sister or in briefings by Blunden.
Four days later it came up again when, en route to Sydney, Blunden raised it anew. ''Not sure we did the right thing with Christine Nixon,'' said Blunden, apropos of nothing. Blunden's reference to Nixon was especially perverse because in between the Monday lunch with Murdoch and the Friday discussion with Blunden, Nixon had made a public statement that she had decided to pay for her fare.
Days later I bumped into Michael Wilkins, editorial manager at News's Sydney headquarters, and his wife, at the Melbourne Cup. Rupert had flown out of the country 48 hours earlier and, as usual, around News the death watch had started.
''Heard any rumours from Rupert's visit?'' Wilkins asked.
''No, not a thing,'' I replied.
''The only one I've heard,'' said Wilkins, ''is that Phil Gardner's got some big new gig.''
''Really?'' I said. I hadn't heard anything.
The following Monday, after a two-week run of accomplishments, I was again summoned to the 13th floor. This time I was to see News Limited chief executive and chairman John Hartigan, who'd taken up residence in Calvert-Jones's office.
I had no idea why I was there.
''It's good to see you, John,'' I said. ''I didn't know you were in town.''
''I had to come to town to have a conversation neither of us is going to enjoy,'' he said.
Much of journalism is about taking the room temperature, knowing when to press and when to withdraw. With that one utterance, the temperature in Calvert-Jones's office plummeted to sub-zero.
''Is there a problem?'' I asked in a voice that had suddenly grown thin.
''Yes,'' said Hartigan, his own voice a little thin too. ''We are going to make a change.''
''To what?''
''Editor-in-chief.''
With that, the floor dropped away.
This is an edited extract from Man Bites Murdoch, by Bruce Guthrie (MUP), RRP $49.99, to be released on Wednesday.
http://www.smh.com.au/national/when-rupert-comes-to-town-20101008-16c1j.html?from=watoday_ft
Shucks, it didn't have the bit from the one i am looking at re the ethical environment of the Murdoch psyche ..
Here is part of it .. [...] "For Murdoch's 1988 editorial gabfest at aspen .. We were being like generals from some all-conquering army .. speakers included ... ex president Richard Nixon, ... Paul Volker ... By the end of the first day, attendees were muttering there was too little discussion of newspapers and far too much about geopolitics, most of it reflecting Rupert's peculiarly right-wing view of the world ... Sunday promised much. First up was Tom Petrie, veteran new editor of The Sun in London. H is presentation was wildly entertaining, with it's stories of chequebook journalism, general skulduggery and ultimately, "heavy lifting" of rival papers stories if The Sun were unable to match them.
For anyone who too journalism seriously it was appalling. ... "Tom," I said. Do you have any ethical framework at all at the London Sun? ... The place simply erupted. "Ethics? At The Sun? You've got to be joking," sh outed one of the execs from the London broadsheets. ... derision, raucous laughter and general hysteria .. Eric Beecher would later gleefully report that the proprietor [Murdoch] had turned red when i first asked the question and blue when i repeated it .. [Petrie said he couldn't hear it the first time, then again after the 2nd time .. he finally said] .. "To tell you the truth, we don't rally have any ethical framework at all" ... But we better get one, because if we don 't Maggie Thatcher will give us one".
So that's some of the bit i couldn't find and wanted to say .. hope all are having a nice day, blue and breezy down here .. 11am .. porridge time ..
By Michael Wolff | smh.com.au | 13 December
In the Weekend Edition of the SMH October 9-10 there is a Memoir .. "Falling out with Rupert", curiously i
cannot find it, it is an edited extract from Man Bites Murdoch by Bruce Guthrie .. thought this may be it, but no.
Rupert Murdoch is portrayed as a doting father
but a ruthless, pragmatic businessman
Rupert Murdoch gave some 50 hours of interviews to the Vanity Fair media columnist Michael Wolff for The Man Who Owns the News and went so far as to encourage and cajole his family, his executives - even his mother, the formidable Dame Elisabeth - to co-operate and open up to the author.
The question is: why?
Wolff told me during his sojourn in Australia to interview Dame Elisabeth and some of the siblings that none of the News Corporation executives he had interviewed understood Murdoch's rationale for wanting to expose himself and his family to the scrutiny of an author he barely knew and seemingly on the basis of one slightly flattering article in Vanity Fair.
Wolff mused that Murdoch's son-in-law, the publicist Matthew Freud, whom he describes in the book "as a man of unspeakable craftiness" and "lounge-lizard smoothness", was pressuring him to do a book so as to burnish the "Murdoch brand and legacy" after the deal that delivered the media mogul the long-coveted Wall Street Journal.
Certainly it is not the first time Murdoch has felt the need to have a third party document a sort of triumphalism he occasionally feels when once again he has proved the naysayers wrong and pulled off yet another deal against all odds.
He did it in 1993 when, having escaped bankruptcy by the skin of his teeth and come back in an aggressive, expansive mode, he gave William Shawcross unfettered access to write a definitive biography, simply titled Murdoch. In 2000 it was the American business journalist Wendi Goldman Rohm who was given Murdoch's blessing to produce an eminently forgettable tome, The Murdoch Mission: The Digital Transformation Of A Media Empire, which painted the tycoon as a digital svengali who would single-handedly lead the world's media into the 21st century. Interestingly, Wolff notes, for someone supposedly leading the charge to the digital future "Murdoch, at 77, can't use a computer, doesn't get email, can't get his cell phone to work properly, can't even imagine changing the variables on a spread sheet".
But if Murdoch was looking to Wolff to burnish his brand, then he must surely regret having exposed himself and those around him to such an acerbic and fearless interrogation that flatters few - with the possible exception of the heir-apparent, James Murdoch, and the "forgotten daughter", Prue.
The News Corporation executives are written off as a B-team of "not the brightest light bulbs" who seek to ingratiate themselves by deferring to anything the boss might want, "never questioning, just doing".
Lachlan Murdoch, perhaps the most unco-operative and suspicious of Wolff's interviewees, comes in for particular and probably unfair treatment. Wolff writes that Murdoch's two most senior lieutenants, chief operating officer Peter Chernin and Fox News chief Roger Ailes, found the one-time heir to the throne "callow, insubstantial and, ironically, un-Murdoch-like". The two men gleefully boasted about having pushed him out of the family business.
Wolff is both charmed by Murdoch's self-effacing manner and good humour and mesmerised by the way in which he seemingly exercises absolute control over his empire and the opportunistic nature of his corporate strategy. Yet at the same time, the author is repelled by the predatory nature of his business dealings - ruthless, cold-hearted and utterly pragmatic.
The thread of the book is the inside story of Murdoch's $US5.2 billion ($8 billion) acquisition of Dow Jones & Co, the owner of The Wall Street Journal, from the Bancroft family and how he and his minions schemed to drive a wedge between the family members who had previously said they would never sell to Murdoch. That insight alone into the inner workings of a business deal in New York makes the book a worthy read.
But between tales of big-deal machinations and revealing interviews with the various Murdoch siblings - Prue, Elisabeth, Lachlan and James - the intriguing part of the book is Wolff's attempts to psychoanalyse his subject and determine "what makes Murdoch run". It is a task made difficult by the fact that Murdoch finds it impossible to talk about his own motivations. "He's not good at explaining himself and gets annoyed and frustrated when he's asked to do so," Wolff writes. For Murdoch, the past is the past; there are no regrets, no looking back; it is all about the future, the next deal, the next trophy for the corporate wall.
As a result, we are left with the author's musings about the Murdoch legacy, his dynastic ambitions and whether the vision for a global media company has never been more than just gut-instinct opportunism.
Central to the narrative is Wolff's view that Murdoch is changing - becoming more liberal
COMMENT .. hmmm, that is at odds with the article which eludes me ..
- and that his "life is now largely spent around people for whom Fox News is a vulgarity and a joke". The catalyst for this, Wolff argues, is Murdoch's marriage in 1999 to his third wife, Wendi Deng, 38 years his junior. "Of all the office affairs in history, Murdoch's may be the biggest cliche, both silly and sweet. This monster, this control freak, this cold bastard, is as blissfully helpless in the face of a determined woman of lowly rank as any lonely, erotically deprived, death-fearing man would be."
Wolff provides plenty of juicy titbits, from Murdoch dying his hair ("obviously and vainly orange - or, occasionally, aubergine") over the bathroom sink to Wendi's IVF treatment, the $US44 million New York penthouse, the sibling rivalry and the fact that Murdoch is, according to one of his executives, a classic "two-pot screamer".
Given the breadth and depth of Wolff's access, this is an important book and certainly the most pertinent and revealing portrait of the most politically powerful media tycoon in the world. It is certainly an accurate portrayal of Murdoch the businessman, capturing him at his pragmatic, devious, deal-making best. But it sheds little light on the private Murdoch who, besides being disarmingly charming, is a doting father and warm, compassionate, generous and loyal to those who serve him.
When the collective Murdoch families gather for Dame Elisabeth's 100th birthday celebrations at Cruden Farm near Melbourne next year, the book should make for some lively discussion. That in itself, might make for a fascinating follow-up. I am just not sure that Wolff will be among the invitees.
Reviewed by Bruce Dover - a former News Corporation senior executive and author of Rupert's Adventures In China (2008).
http://thebigchair.com.au/news/radar/rupert-murdoch
Ok .. try searching .. "Former editor Bruce Guthrie gives a rare insight into
the behind-the scenes machinations of the Murdoch global media empire" .. more on track ..
When Rupert comes to town
October 9, 2010
Former Herald Sun Editor Bruce Guthrie after winning his court case. Photo: Joe Armao
HUGE doors, as wide as they are tall and painted a glistening gold, greet you on the 13th floor of the Herald & Weekly Times tower on Southbank. It's not the sort of decor you expect from the people's paper, the Herald Sun, bought by more than 500,000 a day and read by almost three times that many across Victoria.
The eastern and northern sides of the executive floor are home to HWT's most powerful players, the managing director and the chair of HWT respectively. Between their offices is another, right on the corner. It is the best office in the whole place, but, it is vacant for most of the year, in a constant state of readiness in case The Great Man should drop in. It is Rupert Murdoch's office and on this day, October 27, 2008, he is in town. Consequently, everyone is on edge.
Managing director Peter Blunden, who imagines himself the most influential man in Melbourne, has come to work especially early this day. So has Rupert's sister, Janet Calvert-Jones, HWT chair. The volatile Blunden was my immediate predecessor as editor-in-chief of the Herald Sun and then became my boss. He couldn't really decide whether he liked the job or not.
Advertisement: Story continues below
As the world financial crisis gripped, robbing the Herald Sun and the Sunday Herald Sun of crucial circulation and advertising revenue, the increasingly vexed Blunden had been heard to say more than once: ''This f---ing job is doing my head in.'' Worse, he would often append some derisory comment about the latest directives from News's head office, such as: ''You won't believe what those c---- in Sydney have done today.'' These outbursts were one part pressure-valve, one part bonding ritual. But they did nothing to engender confidence.
Despite Blunden's reputation as a gifted tabloid editor, I had actually inherited several problems at the Herald Sun: it was losing circulation and readership, and its website was growing more slowly than most. By 2008, I had slowed the paper's sales decline, significantly boosted readership and jump-started our website. It seemed pretty clear I would be at the paper for at least five years.
Midway through morning news conference on October 27, I had been summoned to the 13th floor for a meeting with Rupert Murdoch. These meetings between proprietor and editor were legendary, often humbling and sometimes career-ending. If he was unhappy with my performance on the Herald Sun, this is where I would find out - I would get a bollocking. When I arrived at the conference room, I was surprised to find it wouldn't be a one-on-one. Blunden was there, that day's edition close by. Murdoch arrived last, and in a discursive mood. He spoke in generalities about the state of the business, and expressed a kind of calm resignation about the circulation challenges facing News titles around the world.
Eventually Murdoch picked up a copy of the day's paper.
I tensed.
''Well, Bruce,'' Murdoch said. ''The whole town would have been talking about your page one today. It was very good; just what we need.''
Page one that day featured a whopping great mulloway that a professional fisherman had caught on our behalf in the Yarra as part of a series we had done on the health of the river, and our page one lead reported that bullying and violence were growing in state schools. Both had been hand-picked.
''Thank you, Rupert,'' I said. ''We're trying every day to give the readers stories they won't be able to get anywhere else. It seems to be working. The worst thing that can happen to a daily newspaper is that it becomes a discretionary spend.''
''Yes, yes,'' agreed Murdoch. ''People have to feel they must buy it every day.''
As the meeting wound down I felt uplifted. I now appeared to have Rupert's imprimatur, and that left me pretty much untouchable. How was I to know that sometime that week, perhaps on the very day that he had applauded my performance, Murdoch would sign off on my dismissal, plunging me into a professional crisis? I hadn't factored in his ruthlessness but it should have been clear from our final exchange.
''How is The Age faring these days?'' asked Murdoch.
The general consensus was that we were in a very strong position, prompting the observation that Melbourne could be a one-newspaper town in five years.
Murdoch squared his jaw and looked at us. ''That,'' he said through gritted teeth, ''has to be our goal.''
Straight after my session with Rupert there was a lunch in the HWT dining room. As is usual at such gatherings, Murdoch is afforded such respect that the atmosphere winds up being quite stilted. The most significant moment for me occurred before the lunch got under way.
During my 22 months in the job, Janet Calvert-Jones had been a largely benign presence; we had never had a single one-on-one meeting. That said, she had made it known recently she was unhappy with our reporting on her good friend Christine Nixon, the Victorian police commissioner, caught junketing with Qantas - or, at least, I had been led to believe she was unhappy.
Calvert-Jones had the endearing habit of giving me a peck on the cheek whenever I met her. But at the Monday lunch with her brother she didn't move from her spot as I arrived in the dining room to join the pre-meal drinks. So I advanced on her and planted a kiss on her cheek. I have to admit, looking back, she didn't seem entirely comfortable with this. She may have even shrunk back; certainly there was no warmth in her greeting that day. As the lunch got under way, I was sufficiently troubled by her reaction to reflect on the Nixon coverage. It was fresh in all our minds as we had splashed with it just four days earlier, on October 23, 2008.
Around 12.45pm on the day of publication, Blunden called by my office. ''Janet's upset about our coverage of Christine Nixon this morning,'' Blunden said. It was the only time during my editorship that any concerns she may have had about my performance or the paper's editorial positions had been brought to my attention, hence I regarded it as enormously significant. Blunden said she felt we had gone too hard on Nixon and her husband, who were entitled to take the trip.
''They're mates,'' said Blunden.
I was brought out of my lunchtime reverie when Murdoch unexpectedly made an observation about Nixon: ''I gather the police commissioner has been in trouble.''
''She got into strife for taking a free trip with Qantas that she probably shouldn't have taken,'' I said, adding: ''But basically she's done an OK job over a long time. The good judges reckon she'll give it away in April when her contract is up'' - which she subsequently did.
My comments were as much a peace offering to Calvert-Jones, who sat at her brother's side, as anything else. Murdoch merely nodded and moved on. I was troubled that he had obviously been briefed on the story and quickly concluded it must have come up in discussions with his sister or in briefings by Blunden.
Four days later it came up again when, en route to Sydney, Blunden raised it anew. ''Not sure we did the right thing with Christine Nixon,'' said Blunden, apropos of nothing. Blunden's reference to Nixon was especially perverse because in between the Monday lunch with Murdoch and the Friday discussion with Blunden, Nixon had made a public statement that she had decided to pay for her fare.
Days later I bumped into Michael Wilkins, editorial manager at News's Sydney headquarters, and his wife, at the Melbourne Cup. Rupert had flown out of the country 48 hours earlier and, as usual, around News the death watch had started.
''Heard any rumours from Rupert's visit?'' Wilkins asked.
''No, not a thing,'' I replied.
''The only one I've heard,'' said Wilkins, ''is that Phil Gardner's got some big new gig.''
''Really?'' I said. I hadn't heard anything.
The following Monday, after a two-week run of accomplishments, I was again summoned to the 13th floor. This time I was to see News Limited chief executive and chairman John Hartigan, who'd taken up residence in Calvert-Jones's office.
I had no idea why I was there.
''It's good to see you, John,'' I said. ''I didn't know you were in town.''
''I had to come to town to have a conversation neither of us is going to enjoy,'' he said.
Much of journalism is about taking the room temperature, knowing when to press and when to withdraw. With that one utterance, the temperature in Calvert-Jones's office plummeted to sub-zero.
''Is there a problem?'' I asked in a voice that had suddenly grown thin.
''Yes,'' said Hartigan, his own voice a little thin too. ''We are going to make a change.''
''To what?''
''Editor-in-chief.''
With that, the floor dropped away.
This is an edited extract from Man Bites Murdoch, by Bruce Guthrie (MUP), RRP $49.99, to be released on Wednesday.
http://www.smh.com.au/national/when-rupert-comes-to-town-20101008-16c1j.html?from=watoday_ft
Shucks, it didn't have the bit from the one i am looking at re the ethical environment of the Murdoch psyche ..
Here is part of it .. [...] "For Murdoch's 1988 editorial gabfest at aspen .. We were being like generals from some all-conquering army .. speakers included ... ex president Richard Nixon, ... Paul Volker ... By the end of the first day, attendees were muttering there was too little discussion of newspapers and far too much about geopolitics, most of it reflecting Rupert's peculiarly right-wing view of the world ... Sunday promised much. First up was Tom Petrie, veteran new editor of The Sun in London. H is presentation was wildly entertaining, with it's stories of chequebook journalism, general skulduggery and ultimately, "heavy lifting" of rival papers stories if The Sun were unable to match them.
For anyone who too journalism seriously it was appalling. ... "Tom," I said. Do you have any ethical framework at all at the London Sun? ... The place simply erupted. "Ethics? At The Sun? You've got to be joking," sh outed one of the execs from the London broadsheets. ... derision, raucous laughter and general hysteria .. Eric Beecher would later gleefully report that the proprietor [Murdoch] had turned red when i first asked the question and blue when i repeated it .. [Petrie said he couldn't hear it the first time, then again after the 2nd time .. he finally said] .. "To tell you the truth, we don't rally have any ethical framework at all" ... But we better get one, because if we don 't Maggie Thatcher will give us one".
So that's some of the bit i couldn't find and wanted to say .. hope all are having a nice day, blue and breezy down here .. 11am .. porridge time ..
Jonathan Swift said, "May you live all the days of your life!"
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