Politics or Parliament?
What is the role of a Press Gallery?
by Sarah Binney
JULIA GILLARD’S RECENT INTERVIEW with Lenore Taylor has highlighted the disdain that many in the community — from citizens to political masters — have long vented towards the Federal Parliamentary Press Gallery (aka The Press Gallery).
Former Prime Minister Gillard has delivered a scathing critique of contemporary media practices, suggesting the press gallery — the grand gate-keeper of all that is read, seen and heard about Australian federal politics — is largely preoccupied with leadership destabilisation at the expense of policy heavy reporting.
Gillard says we live in one of the most concentrated media markets in the world and that “the impacts of this concentration are diverse and undesirable. Above all, it means bias matters more, simply because there is less capacity to contest arguments and less diversity of commentary”.
Gillard is referring to what appears to be an historical monopoly of opinion in reporting federal politics. With a clear pecking order among journalists — with revered opinion-shaping veterans in place at the summit — the argument has been that there is too little variety in what comes out of the press gallery. If the most senior journalists opine the failings of our politicians, then, many argue, these opinions become self-fulfilling truths as less experienced and less well-entrenched journalists echo the masters’ calls.
The press gallery haw long faced criticism over perceived insularity and isolation from community issues. Michelle Grattan observed that journalists in the Press Gallery are more divorced from the ‘real world’ than politicians, who have the benefit of immediate feedback from their electorate. Grattan argues Canberra journalists need to make special efforts to keep in touch with opinion outside the national capital, meaning federal issues are rarely contextualized at a local or state level. While it could be argued this is the responsibility of local journalists, the insularity of a group hugely influential in shaping the political agenda has ramifications for the democratic process.
But significant changes to technology, newsroom operations combined with the behaviour of news consumers themselves has seen profound changes in not just the press gallery but in how politicians and their staffers engage with it.
Politicians have long complained of the press gallery’s monopoly on opinion making, especially in the difficulty in “getting around” it. If a new policy or new leader needed to be “sold” to voters, it had to be “sold” to the “gods” of the press gallery first. But even this is not entirely accurate because, since at least the 1970s, political leaders have been able to talk directly with voters, outside the filter of the gallery, via talkback radio. It was a modest but critical reprieve for politicians, especially conservative ones seeking a sympathetic ear, away from press gallery influences.
The recent shifts in the media landscape have shaped the way the gallery reports federal politics even more — effects that have arguably diminished the monopoly power the press gallery holds in its Canberra cloisters.
These shifts — a proliferation of public relations “spin doctors” working as policy and media advisors, the 24/7 news cycle borne of web-based journalism, and increased commercial pressures on news organizations to deliver more product with fewer resources — have seen major changes not only in how the gallery reports politics, but also in what it reports on any given day.
With traditional news sources of print, broadcast television and radio challenged by news web-sites where content can be immediately uploaded to and accessed via mobile devices — and with even web-based news sites under threat from non-traditional social media news “feeds”, non-professional blogs and other forms of “citizen journalism” — it’s clear the press gallery has been forced to think outside the square.
It’s been argued, for example, that to ensure a high turnover of “yarns” in any given news cycle (with continuously diminishing resources such as fewer specialist and rounds reporters) and to compete for news consumers’ attention, the press gallery over the past few decades has shifted from a position of primarily reporting “policy” to one of primarily reporting “politics”.
Consider recent cabinet leaks over the Abbott Government’s proposal to strip Australian citizenship.
The report, published by press gallery member and Sydney Morning Herald journalist Peter Hartcher, details Cabinet debate over the citizenship of terror suspects. It’s a report that not only triggered intense debate over the policy itself but, more importantly, over the identity of Hartcher’s source as well as a potential for a major split in the Abbott cabinet.
Sadly, the key points of this debate have been lost in media hype, showing precisely how journalists can become focused on party in-fighting at the expense of meaningful policy discourse.
Since Hartcher’s article, there has been little media scrutiny, for example, over what the leak says about Cabinet process, and how Cabinet splits might affect national security, and not just Prime Minister Tony Abbott’s political longevity.
The tendency of gallery journalists to focus on politics over policy in the midst of commercial and time pressures has also contributed to an overall ‘dumbing down’ of news content as that focus prioritizes political tactics over political ideas. The evidence suggests the public devours stories that pit our leaders against each other like bulls, and journalists exploit this to meet the demands of a content-hungry industry.
Take the ABC’s ‘The Killing Season’, a three part documentary examining the turbulence that haunted the Labor party during the Rudd/Gillard years. Former Labor party members are vindicating themselves with tell-all accounts and, if ratings are any guide, viewers are glued to their televisions.
The public’s interest in contentious stories explains the gallery’s role in reporting the destructive Rudd / Gillard era. The leadership conflict between the two was a rich source of newsworthy content to quench the public’s thirst for political conflict. Saturday Paper editor Erik Jensen argues the Press Gallery bayed for a contest between the leaders, then routinely predicted Gillard’s demise. Jensen also accuses Hartcher and ABC Radio personality Phillip Adams of playing a significant role in a campaign to politically destabilize Julia Gillard.
That journalists were at least indirectly complicit in Gillard’s political demise is difficult to disprove. Gillard’s demeanor, wardrobe and even her partner’s sexuality were all fair game in news reports. Her famous parliamentary misogyny speech in late 2012 — arguably a galvanizing moment for the women and men alike, and one that promised something of a political redemption — was slammed by journalists. Peter Hartcher accused the PM of abandoning principle in favour of power, and even Michelle Grattan dismissed the speech as ‘desperate’, despite wide public acclaim on social media. The speech, then, became a defining moment for the gallery, and it shone a light on the disconnect between the increasingly insular gallery and real world public opinion. If nothing else, it shocked journalists accustomed to setting the news agenda.
Despite this, media focus on the Rudd / Gillard rivalry clearly shaped public opinion. When Gillard moved against Rudd in June, 2010, voters — who had clearly become disillusioned with Rudd over the previous six months — were nonetheless incensed that their prime minister had been removed suddenly in dead of night and without their permission.
Much of the electorate, of course, didn’t understand the basic mechanics of Australian party politics. Too few knew that, according to the then rules of the Labor party, only Labor MPs had the power to elect a leader, and therefore a prime minister, and only Labor MPs had the power to dismiss him or her. Yet, given how party politics in a Westminster system is so often reported in Australia — where party leaders are painted as presidents and framed as celebrities — it’s difficult to blame voters alone for this misconception. It was, as the popular refrain suggests, just another example of “dumbing down”. Gillard agrees. She says “it is irresistibly seductive to package politics like a reality TV show”.
“ … it is irresistibly seductive to package politics like a reality TV show”.
Veteran gallery journalist Kerry-Anne Walsh also notes how the parliament’s legislative achievements were too often overshadowed by constant leadership speculation. Few realise, for example, that the hung parliament between 2010 and 2013 was actually highly efficient, successfully passing a near-record number of bills despite the precarious numbers in the House of Representatives.
Walsh also alleges Rudd used background briefings to journalists in a bid to exaggerate his level of caucus support, and to underplay the Gillard Government’s achievements. She says this would have been less likely five years ago when pressure to file around the clock was less intense, and editors vetted stories more closely. But, according to Walsh, “every rulebook in the handbook of good journalism was broken” during the Gillard years.
Our former Prime Minister echoes this criticism. In an extract from her updated autobiography, Gillard says:
“I have read enough of the most mainstream and noted works to feel the nation has been let down. What has been advanced as analysis strikes me as pretty thin gruel”.
She says most importantly, between the bias and the bullying, sustained conversations about reform cannot find any fertile ground. What thrives is leadership speculation.
This critique illustrates the insularity of the Press Gallery, further evidenced prior to Gillard’s accession to office. Institute of Public Affairs Executive Director John Roskam and IPA Communications Manager James Paterson argue the Press Gallery failed to report Kevin Rudd’s treatment of staff and wide hatred among Labor MPs preceding the leadership spill. They say that while Rudd’s behaviour contributed to the spill, the Press Gallery displayed “deliberate and selective incuriosity” in neglecting to report it. His lack of faith in his ministers meant he encouraged his personal staff to make policy decisions, forgoing proper Cabinet process. Policy wasn’t properly thought out, and the resulting lack of cost-benefit analysis prior to such initiatives as the installation of ‘pink-batts’ during the Global Financial Crisis only ended in tragedy.
Importantly, there was a clear public interest in reporting these stories, but Rudd’s decline in public esteem and leadership spill speculation still dominated news agendas.
The Rudd / Gillard years exemplify the criticisms of the press gallery’s insularity and their tendency to report politics over policy. Commentary underpinning this period reflected a ‘collective consciousness’ borne from a familiar and comfortable environment. Inexperienced journalists are unlikely to oppose the views of dominant, senior Gallery members for fear of getting it wrong.
There are other significant factors at play here. For one, the proliferation of media advisors means the Press Gallery is significantly impeded in its ability to do its job when access to primary sources, such as ministers and MPs, is so tightly restricted. Journalists who are forced to contend with an army of spin doctors peddling public relations cannot engage in effective reporting.
Pair that with increasing temporal and commercial pressures in an increasingly news-hungry world and the gallery’s challenges grow exponentially.
The Non-Members Bar was a key feature in the friendly relationship between journalist and politician, with the two often lowering their guards amid off-the-record talks over drinks. The co-location of journalists and politicians in the Parliament facilitated a closeness stretching back until at least the Curtin Government during the Second World War. But, with the advent of mobile phones, the World Wide Web and a new and tighter commercial bottom line, that relationship changed, and news media reporting practices with it.
Despite the challenges they’re faced with today, the press gallery remains a key (unofficial) democratic institution. It is still the lens through which most Australians learn about daily news in federal politics, and it still carries most of the responsibility of keeping our politicians accountable. For all it sins, failings and omissions, the gallery continues to produce outstanding journalism and fulfils an indispensable role of the Fourth Estate.
The challenge now remains how to maintain the press gallery’s value at a time of rapid evolution. With the rise of the citizen journalist — the untrained amateur who, blogging from home, distorts “news” by failing to understand accuracy, objectivity, balance or source protection — potentially undermines what has become a noble journalistic profession: the second largest investigative force in Australia. In an age of spin and political apathy, the professional journalist’s role to report on politics has never been more important.
Hack Attack author Nick Davies, however, offered some hope when he recently addressed a QUT audience. Davies argued that voters’ appetite for junk journalism will soon fade, and the public will again crave quality journalism.
We can only hope Davies is right.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SARAH BINNEY
Sarah Binney is a freelance Journalist and Research Assistant at Griffith University.
Sarah is interested in the complex relationship between media and politics and explored this in her thesis on media portrayals of Queensland’s 2011 Civil Partnerships Bill.
