The trust deficit

It was admittedly the most humbling moment of Rupert Murdoch’s life. In a three-hour questioning session in the UK parliament, the media moghul denied any knowledge of the phone-hacking fiasco that has shuttered the News of the World. As the scandal spatters uncontrollably, Murdoch, by abdicating responsibility, has demonstrated he is no longer the person for the job. Neither are his trusted lieutenants.

In less than a month since the news has gone viral, everyone embroiled in the saga has emerged, or is on the verge of emerging, as obstructers of the truth, rather than deliverers of it — contrary to what journalists and their managers are paid to do.

The latest blow to that trust comes from the former editor of News of the World, Colin Myler, and the lawyer of the defunct paper, Tom Crone, who issued a statement barely 24 hours after the parliamentary hearing to say that James Murdoch allegedly lied to members of parliament. That he was aware of the phone-hacking methods of the newspaper as early as 2008. Lying at a parliamentary hearing is, of course, a criminal offence. News Corp, though, has denied this allegation.

While all of this is open to debate, there is no doubt that in today’s world of my-word- versus-yours, which is really an email exchange, more drama will follow.

Still, News Corp may need to un-Murdoch its leadership for reasons aside of failing to be in the loop. Good management is about setting an example and communicating it well. In a newsroom environment, the need of it is even more pronounced.

Most editors will admit that they have a fairly good idea of what will pass muster with the management and what won’t. Few editors dabble in unacceptable standards because usually, it could force them off the highway.

The fundamental rules in journalism are so nonflexible it’s easy to spot when someone is going off the road. That’s even more pronounced when news organisations get big breaking news. When they stay ahead of competition for a particular piece of news, as News of the World did, the most obvious question that an editor would ask of a reporter is, how they got the story. It’s called doing due diligence. Truth is that news and the power that most managers get from controlling it is so immense that few top managers, even non-editorial ones, will be able to contain their curiosity on how the news was broken. It’s often the topic for gloating over a dinner conversation — especially if you happen to be heading the organisation that is the talking point.

While it can well be argued, like the Murdochs have, that they were far from hands-on in what accounts for barely 1 per cent of their media empire, it’s still a leadership failure. In choosing leaders for news, the single biggest factor is their allegiance to the truth — an unbiased version of it, and a decent means of accessing it.

So when Rupert Murdoch tells parliamentarians that those responsible for the mess are those he trusted with the job, he is admitting that he can’t be trusted with his either.

The drama that has unfolded since July 4 holds several lessons for the news business. But the most demonstrable one comes from the 42-year-old Chinese wife of Murdoch, Wendi, who leapt out to slap a protestor who hurled foam at her 80-year-old husband — arguably her most prized possession. Murdoch would have done well to show the same zeal in defending the most valuable asset in the business of news — trust.

  Anjana Menon is Executive Editor, NDTV Profit. The views expressed here are personal