Murdoch still surprises

There’s lots of attention today to an excerpt of Michael Wolff's book on Rupert Murdoch in the October Vanity Fair. Even for a guy who has been profiled to death - and who by all accounts is pretty transparent - Murdoch still manages to surprise. Perhaps most intriguing is his malleable view of the conservative agenda – and of Fox News. That’s apparently the result of his younger wife Wendi, who hangs out with a left-leaning crowd.

For a long time he was in love with the Fox chief, Roger Ailes, because he was even more Murdoch than Murdoch. And yet now the embarrassment can’t be missed—he mumbles even more than usual when called on to justify it; he barely pretends to hide the way he feels about Bill O’Reilly. And while it is not possible that he would give Fox up—because the money is the money; success trumps all—in the larger sense of who he is, he seems to want to hedge his bets. Just before the New York Democratic primary, when I found myself undecided between Clinton and Obama, I said to Murdoch (a little flirtation, like a little gossip, softens him), “Rupert, I don’t know who to vote for—so I’m going to give you my vote. You choose.” He paused, considered, nodded his head slowly: “Obama—he’ll sell more papers.”

Early in the piece, Murdoch is seen reporting out a story.

He’d been out the night before and gotten a tip. Now he was trying to nail it down. His side of the conversation was straight reporter stuff: Who could he call? How could he get in touch? Will they confirm? Barked, impatient, just the facts. Here was the old man, in white shirt, singlet visible underneath, doing one of the same basic jobs he’d been doing since he was 22, having inherited the Adelaide News in Australia from his father. And he was good at it. He was parsing each answer. Re-asking the question. Clarifying every point. His notepad going. He knew the trade. Of how many media-company C.E.O.’s could that be said? This wasn’t a destroyer of journalism—this was a practitioner. On the other hand, he was trying to smear somebody. At the dinner party he’d attended—since his marriage to Wendi Deng, he’s become an unlikely fixture at fashionable tables—he heard that a seniormost Hillary Clinton operative was a partner in an online porn company. He didn’t like the operative, didn’t like—no matter how much he had tried—Hillary Clinton. So it didn’t much matter that the story itself seemed far-fetched and tenth-hand. It was juicy and would slime somebody he thought was … a slime.