Why News Corp is like Russia

Murdoch can take the losses.

Russia ultimately won the Second World War thanks to its unique ability to sustain massive losses – and the same could be true for Rupert Murdoch and News Corp.

A huge legal settlement with rebel US shareholders yesterday added yet further to  News Corp’s massive  phone-hacking bill .

They accused the News Corp board of allowing Rupert to “siphon value away from News Corp and its shareholders for the benefit of Murdoch, his family and his friends”.

They also claimed the board had been negligent in the way it dealt with the hacking scandal.

The $139m settlement of that suit adds to the claimed $340m of costs incurred as a result of the hacking scandal to February this year.

Murdoch’s scorched earth policy since the hacking scandal has been as ruthless as it has been effective and something that few other media companies in the world could have afforded to engage in.

Since the July 2011 revelation that the News of the World had hacked the voicemail messages of Milly Dowler Murdoch has closed the biggest selling Sunday newspaper in Britain, the News of the World (sacking more than 200 staff) and has engaged in a forensic audit of his surviving redtop title – The Sun – which is unprecedented in UK corporate history.

The News Corp Management and Standards Committee’s internal purge has seen at least 23 Sun journalists arrested.

Whatever it costs, Murdoch is determined to win out in the long run by retreating as far as he has to and dynamiting his own assets along the way.

Back in July 2011, there was giddy moment for the Murdoch-haters when it looked like The Guardian’s revelations around phone-hacking had dealt him a fatal blow.

His willingness and capacity to absorb financial losses since then in order to salvage his newspaper empire shows that he is determined to win the long war.

Photograph: Getty Images

Dominic Ponsford is editor of Press Gazette

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.