PERSPECTIVErnDial M for Murdochrnby Thomas FlemingrnPublishers and writers are inveterate enemies. It is a combatrndecreed by nature, like the eternal war between dogs andrncats, oil and vinegar, teenage girls and their mothers. Any realrnwriter, no matter how mercenary or corrupt, cares somethingrnfor the craft that publishers regard as at best a pretext for marketingrn(much as television networks think of programs as the intervalsrnbetween commercials). Even a Washington Post reporterrnmust occasionally want to write an honest story that doesrnnot end up on the editorial spike, while the most erudite publisherrncan scarcely help resenting every penny squandered forrnthe advancement of literature.rnIn the early days of commercial publishing, when some writersrnmight have claimed to be gentlemen, few publishers pretendedrnto be anything but tradesmen. Alexander Pope, to showrnhis contempt, administered a laxative to a famous London publisher,rnand Samuel Johnson was fond of telling the story of thernpublisher who married his printer’s devil—a pretty girl, oncernthe ink was scrubbed off. The first Macmillan, according tornlegend, had to walk half-way across Britain to start the careerrnthat made his fortune, but his grandson Harold became not onlyrnPrime Minister, but a Tory wet enough to raise the taxes onrnevery man who made an honest living.rnIn the earlier part of this century, publishers were still notrnquite respectable, including the press lords whose pretensionsrnG.K. Chesterton so enjoyed deflating. Chesterton lost his jobrnat a Cadbury paper after he published a poem that included thernlines:rnTea, although an Oriental,rnIs a genfleman at least;rnCocoa is a cad and coward.rnCocoa is a vulgar beast.rnCadbury’s rivals in Britain and America—the Beaverbrooksrnand Hearsts—had the same thin skin and indifference to fact.rnFor media magnates, the press is not an instrument for disseminatingrntiuth, it is an engine of power. The great object in anyrnindustry, whether it is computer software, cocaine, or publishing,rnis to secure a monopoly, and the great newspaper chains ofrnthe United States —Gannett, in particular—have dedicatedrnthemselves, with singleness of purpose and contempt for legalrnniceties, to the task of ensuring that every city in America is arnone-newspaper town.rnThe implications for American conservatives and other dissidentsrnare obvious. Lack of competition in business inevitablyrnentails ideological rigidity, and since the media monopolies arernan important part of the establishment, the managers who controlrnthe great newspapers and publishing houses take a dimrnview of reactionaries and radicals who criticize the regime.rnOur local Gannett paper, after buying up its rival (a monthlyrncity magazine), is now in a position to treat the old newspaperman’srnideals of facts and fairness like a rare port, something tornbe brought out on ceremonial occasions and served by thernthimbleful. Propaganda and slander are the beer and pizza ofrnthe chain newspaper and the network news. Ask Richard Jewell.rnStill, even the great newspaper chains must compete withrneach other, with electronic media, with magazines, and withrnthe processed book-products that make their way onto the bestsellerrnlists. A dissident book can occasionally pop up on a bestsellerrnlist, blinking in the bright lights and trying vainly to makernsmall talk with its neighbors. These freaks of the industry arernbecoming rarer, as competition disappears. Some of the mediarnchains, after all, do own magazines; others publish books; somernown television stations. In fact, Ted Turner has wrapped hisrntentacles around dozens of media conglomerates. But evenrn10/CHRONICLESrnrnrn