A Bolt from the Green

Andrew Bolt is interesting to contrast with Miranda Devine, in that he shows none of the flair or panache so keenly demonstrated by the latter. Each time Devine is set loose on a topic, she sinks her teeth in and rips it to pieces, not caring how she savages it, content to know that people have been told.

In comparison, Bolt is merely lazy. His output on his blog is nothing short of prodigious, but the majority of it is a link to something that he finds objectionable, then a sentence or two amounting to little more than “this is lies! Damned lies and fabrication!” (Poor grammar simulated for effect). You have to wade through a morass of these items to actually discover his columns, or anything of substance –and I use that term loosely.

“Five reasons not to trust this jihad against our farmers” gets the title right, at least: inflammatory, discriminatory, and predicated on a lie. He’s doing his bit for right wing opinion-holders everywhere. Sadly, Bolt has forgotten how to write. Almost every paragraph is a mere sentence long, and none of them are interesting. The most damning quote, from Frank Sartor, has been plainly denied by its alleged source.

Bolt is content to throw meaningless figures at the audience, provided by “furious” interest groups, and then somehow tie them together by suggesting that it’s all part of a “green conspiracy”. Bolt is entirely unaware of the fact that he’s using the language of fear to suggest that environmentalists have embarked on a fear campaign based on science that he considers “dodgy” at best.

Bolt’s work is eminently forgettable, to the point that one would be hardpressed to remember, by the end, why they had started reading in the first place. The problem is this: with the plainly superior Miranda Devine now comfortably installed at News Ltd, what is the use of carrying Bolt’s dead weight? The Melbourne/Sydney divide isn’t as important as it used to be: the internet lacks frontiers.

Is inserting your own history into a tangentially related story really necessary?

In "Was outing anonymous blogger Grogs Gamut really necessary?", Kate Doak has produced a mostly serviceable article about what came to be known on Twitter as "#groggate". The issue is covered in a straightforward way and deals with relevant issues of online journalistic ethics, but the way that The Scavenger has presented the story is by literally sexing it up.

Even before the article proper begins, the audience is given context: the author of the article is a transsexual who was outed in some way that goes undefined in the article. A media commentator does not need to say "I am qualified to comment on this because I have lived through an analogous situation"; a media commentator would be better placed saying "I am qualified to comment on this because it is my job to do so" - but of course, they shouldn't say that because it is implicit.

Doak is trying to insert herself into a story that can stand perfectly well for itself. It's an uncomfortable graft onto an otherwise straightforward piece. The Grogs Gamut case - a public servant's identity was revealed by a writer from the Australian - is an interesting one, and definitely valid for exploration in the identity management landscape of interconnected social media, but this is only basically attempted here.

It's somewhat ironic that Doak would go on to explicitly outline the qualifications of Massola and Latika Bourke later in the piece – and only tangentially writing about what she is presumably being paid to write about.

At this point it becomes clear that this is an uncomfortably written and not strictly proofread article, featuring "it's/its" confusion and also a "compromised" tweet - that is, one edited to fit within 140 characters but presented outside the medium so as to look like an exercise in illiteracy.

Doak attempts to write both a personal and investigative piece and doesn't quite "make it" with either approach. The whole endeavour is compromised, initially by an attempt to add personality and relevance, and then by a total breakdown in vision.

It ain't easy being Devine

Much as it pains me to say this (and this is an area in which I am not able to maintain a veneer of bipartisanship), Miranda Devine (Miranda Devine!) understands the internet better than Jonathan Green could ever hope to.

“Frannie and friends removed the video from the 10:10 website when complaints started, but it was too late. She has let the cat out of the bag.”

Devine is cognizant of the fact that nothing on the internet ever dies, which is why I’m able to link you to this absolutely abhorrent piece that she wrote in 2007 conflating The History Boys with pedophilia.

That aside, it’s time to actually address her premiere blog post in her new home on the Herald Sun blogs, “What it really means to be Green”. Devine starts with an easy target, Richard Curtis’ “10:10 No Pressure” video:

The problem is that Devine has chosen to take this ill-advised (and, more offensively, boring) video as a serious indication of the actual leanings of environmentally minded people: she sincerely believes that Greens are determined to kill everyone. This is not even paraphrasing her and twisting her words: she has literally referred to greens as a “totalitarian death cult”, and makes repeated references to Nazism. She takes everything to such extremes that it’s difficult to take her seriously, but she absolutely wants you to.

Devine’s work is actually a perfect piece of opinion writing, online or off. It is tempting to simply quote the entire thing because, regardless of what you actually think of her opinions, she is a master craftswoman of the form. She writes polemics, and people can’t help but be inflamed by them (or, somehow, agree with them).

Miranda Devine earns her money, and she is clearly more at home in her new News Limited digs than she ever was at Fairfax. Godspeed, Miranda. Never stop doing what you do.

The Hardy Experiments: a failure by the ABC

Marieke Hardy, defender of the literate, came under fire by The Drum because they chose to run an article that she had written that they considered to be in poor taste. Jonathan Green ran an “Editor’s note” on “The Pyne Experiments” four days after its initial publication, and removed the “offending” article.

The column, reproduced here, is admittedly not an excellent piece of online journalism, but it was public for four days before they chose to pull it. Any damage that it might have done would have been done by such time and, if nothing had been said, it would have stood as an ultimately throwaway column that one would forget immediately after reading it. By drawing attention to its removal, an issue has been created where previously no one had cared enough to be vocal about it.

Green’s note is condescending to Hardy:

“I feel I let her down this time, because the assault on Christopher Pyne she filed this week was not on a par with the main body of her work.”

This is not the same as saying “Marieke has done a terrible thing”; Green has transformed the issue into a giant mea culpa on his own part.

This editor’s note shows weakness on the part of Green, The Drum and the ABC to have simply kowtowed to the apparently invisible threat of Pyne. The fact that once something is published on the internet it never truly dies has been lost on Green, as evidenced by the fact that I was able to link to the original text of Hardy’s column.

It is almost admirable for Green to have attempted to own his mistake, and to deflect any blame from Hardy, but in completely removing a column that was asinine at worst, and condescending to its author, he has ignored the way that the internet operates and made something out of nothing.