If you're kicking me out, fine, but don't tell me you're not while you show me the door
In the corridors where journalism and power meet, a single afternoon in Canberra laid bare the quiet mechanisms by which institutional belonging is granted and withdrawn. Pauline Hanson addressed the National Press Club to effusive praise from News Corp commentators who found her vague and uncosted performance nonetheless worthy of historical comparison, while Greg Jericho — a Walkley-winning journalist who had held his press gallery pass for a decade — lost that credential within an hour of publicly criticising his colleagues' soft questioning. The timing may have been coincidental, but the pattern it revealed was not: in Australian media, the line between accountability and belonging has always been drawn by those who already stand inside it.
- News Corp outlets celebrated Hanson's policy-thin performance with language usually reserved for stateswomen, calling her a 'tour de force' and comparing her to Margaret Thatcher — a signal of how editorial enthusiasm can substitute for scrutiny.
- Greg Jericho posted a pointed critique of press gallery journalists who, after decades of covering Hanson and Trump, still lobbed questions about Canberra's charm and Muslim migration as though meeting her for the first time.
- Within sixty minutes of that post, Jericho received an email informing him his gallery pass no longer qualified — a sequence the gallery president insisted was procedural, and which Jericho described, with precision, as being shown the door while being told he wasn't.
- Across the media landscape, other fault lines opened: a newspaper editor attended a Qantas junket without disclosure, SBS issued copyright warnings over World Cup gif use, and a New Zealand masthead appointed a former lobbyist with no journalism training as editor-in-chief.
- The week's accumulation of incidents — each individually deniable, collectively legible — pointed toward a press ecosystem where the rules of independence are applied selectively, and where criticism of the institution tends to cost more than criticism of the powerful.
On Wednesday, Pauline Hanson addressed the National Press Club and left with something she rarely receives from mainstream media: unqualified admiration. News Corp's commentators were effusive. News.com.au called her performance a 'tour de force.' Andrew Bolt described watching her as 'a joy.' Jenna Clarke of The Australian reached for the Thatcher comparison, with the caveat that this Thatcher had spent time in a Townsville pub. The praise arrived despite vague policy positions, absent costings, and sourcing that went largely unchallenged — because, as Clarke noted, One Nation didn't need to be perfect. They just needed voters to believe things couldn't get worse.
Greg Jericho was watching the same press conference from a different angle. A Walkley award-winning journalist and chief economist at the Australia Institute, he had held a press gallery pass since 2015. What he saw troubled him: gallery journalists from major mastheads asking Hanson whether Australia risked being 'swamped by Muslim migration,' and whether she liked Canberra. At 2 p.m., he posted on BlueSky that the gallery had walked into the press club 'like it was first day on the job,' despite three decades of watching Hanson and years of watching Trump.
At 3 p.m., he received an email from Jane Norman, the gallery committee president and ABC national affairs correspondent. His pass, she wrote, no longer qualified — his primary employer was a think tank, and he should apply for a lobbyist credential instead. Norman later clarified to Weekly Beast that the pass hadn't been 'cancelled,' only that a credential switch was required. Jericho's response cut through the distinction: 'If you're kicking me out, fine, but don't tell me you're not while you show me the door.'
Elsewhere, the week's media texture grew stranger. Kyle Sandilands, fresh from settling an $85 million court case for $12 million, gave his first post-settlement interview and described Pauline Hanson and Barnaby Joyce as 'very inspirational' — nothing like the 'lunatic racist party of country bumpkins' people imagined. He also attacked rival Ben Fordham, who responded on air by suggesting Sandilands was performing toughness rather than speaking truth. In New Zealand, Stuff Group appointed former National party strategist Matthew Hooton — who has never trained as a journalist — as editor-in-chief of the Post and Sunday Star-Times. The Post itself reported the gap in his credentials. Massey University's journalism head called it 'quite a sea change.'
Smaller details accumulated with their own quiet weight. The Daily Telegraph's editor posted enthusiastically from Toulouse about Qantas's new London service without disclosing he was there as a guest of Qantas and Airbus — while a colleague on the same trip made full disclosure in her own piece. SBS issued warnings to outlets running World Cup footage as gifs, citing copyright rules most had apparently ignored. And in Adelaide, a United Australia Party advertisement calling for 'zero immigration' ran directly beneath photographs of Nestory Irankunda's World Cup joy and his celebrating family. No one, it seemed, had noticed the placement — or thought it worth remarking upon.
On Wednesday, Pauline Hanson walked into the National Press Club and, by the account of News Corp Australia's commentators, delivered something close to political theater. She was vague on policy specifics, thin on costings, and offered little in the way of concrete sourcing for her claims. None of this seemed to trouble the outlets owned by Rupert Murdoch's company. News.com.au called her performance a "tour de force." Andrew Bolt, writing in the Herald Sun, described watching her as "a joy." Jai Bednall, news.com.au's head of growth, declared that One Nation had found its unofficial opposition leader—someone who "looks and sounds sharp." Jenna Clarke, associate editor of The Australian, reached for historical comparison: Hanson was like Margaret Thatcher, if Thatcher had spent time in a Townsville pub. The praise flowed freely, even as Clarke acknowledged that One Nation didn't need to be perfect on policy or geopolitics. They just needed enough voters to believe things couldn't get worse under the current government.
What happened next revealed something about how power moves through Australian media institutions. Greg Jericho, the Australia Institute's chief economist and a regular columnist for Guardian Australia, was watching the same press conference. He noticed that journalists from the Age, the Sydney Morning Herald, and the Canberra Times had asked remarkably soft questions. One correspondent asked Hanson whether Australia was in danger of being "swamped by Muslim migration." Another asked her opinion of Canberra. Jericho, a Walkley award-winning journalist who had held a press gallery pass since 2015, posted his reaction on BlueSky at 2 p.m.: the gallery had spent a decade watching Trump and three decades watching Hanson, yet they walked into the press club "like it was first day on the job."
One hour later, Jane Norman, the committee president and ABC national affairs correspondent, emailed Jericho to say his pass no longer qualified under the criteria. His primary job, she wrote, was now at the Australia Institute—a think tank—which meant he should arrange a lobbyist pass instead. Jericho had joined the institute in February 2022, but he spent almost all his time on sitting days doing journalism. Norman later clarified to Weekly Beast that the pass hadn't been "cancelled," only that Jericho needed to switch to a lobbyist credential because his employer was in breach of press gallery rules. Jericho's response was direct: "If you're kicking me out, fine, but don't tell me you're not while you show me the door."
Elsewhere in the media ecosystem, other tensions were surfacing. Kyle Sandilands, the shock jock who had recently settled an $85 million federal court case for $12 million, gave his first interview since the settlement. He said mounting legal fees—already at $1 million—had driven him to accept what he called a "miserable amount." In the same interview, he claimed to have spent time with Pauline Hanson and Barnaby Joyce, describing them as "very inspirational" and insisting they were nothing like the "lunatic racist party of country bumpkins" people imagined. He also used the platform to attack fellow shock jock Ben Fordham, saying Fordham "deserves a slap" for criticizing his $100 million contract while later asking for an interview. Fordham responded on air Friday morning, disputing Sandilands' account and suggesting his rival was playing a character—the tough guy—rather than speaking truth.
In New Zealand, the Stuff Group appointed Matthew Hooton as editor-in-chief of the Post and Sunday Star-Times. Hooton is a former National party strategist and lobbyist. He has never trained as a journalist. The Post itself noted this gap in its reporting on the appointment. Stuff Group's owner and publisher, Sinead Boucher, explained that she valued Hooton's understanding of power and his knowledge of political strategy and institutional self-interest. Across the Tasman, the move was called a "bombshell" and a "WTF moment." Hooton said he was a fast learner who would delegate readily, and that the Post's institutional frameworks would ensure ethical standards. James Hollings, head of journalism at Massey University, told Radio New Zealand the appointment represented "quite a sea change for journalism and political journalism in New Zealand."
Back in Australia, smaller stories accumulated with their own weight. The Daily Telegraph's editor, Ben English, posted from Toulouse, France, enthusiastically describing Qantas's new Airbus A350-1000ULR and its nonstop Sydney-to-London service launching in October 2027. He made no disclosure that he was there as a guest of Qantas and Airbus. Aviation writer Robyn Ironside, also on the junket, disclosed the arrangement in her own reporting. When Weekly Beast tried to ask English about whether he had paid for his ticket, an out-of-office auto-reply came back.
Meanwhile, SBS, the exclusive Australian rights holder for the World Cup, had begun raising concerns with media organizations over their use of footage. The Courier-Mail and Daily Telegraph were both running eight-second gifs of Lionel Messi's goal against Algeria on their homepages—a use that, according to SBS rules, ordinarily breaches fair dealing for major sporting events. SBS warned that any use of its World Cup content without proper fair dealing justification would be considered copyright infringement. An SBS spokesperson declined to name which outlets had been contacted but reiterated the rules.
In Adelaide, a Clive Palmer advertisement for the United Australia party ran at the bottom of a page in the Advertiser. The ad, featuring Senator Ralph Babet and the headline "Zero immigration," sat directly beneath photographs and stories celebrating Nestory Irankunda's World Cup performance and his joyful family. The juxtaposition was stark: smiling faces of immigrants and their supporters, immediately below a message warning against immigration itself. The ad had found its placement, and no one seemed to have noticed—or cared—about what it said.
Citas Notables
This gallery has had a decade of watching Trump and 30 yrs of Hanson and they walked in the press club like it was first day on the job— Greg Jericho, on BlueSky, criticizing press gallery colleagues' questioning of Pauline Hanson
Few people understand power in New Zealand as well as Matthew does. He has lived and breathed political strategy and spin for most of his career— Sinead Boucher, Stuff Group owner, explaining the appointment of Hooton as editor-in-chief
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does it matter that News Corp praised Hanson while Jericho lost his pass? Aren't those separate stories?
They're not separate at all. One shows what gets amplified; the other shows what gets silenced. Jericho criticized the press gallery for asking soft questions, and within an hour he was out. That's not coincidence—that's how power works.
But Norman said it was just about his employment status at the Australia Institute.
That's the official reason. But the timing is everything. He criticized the gallery's work at 2 p.m., and by 3 p.m. he was being told to leave. The rule about employment existed before Wednesday. Why enforce it then?
So you're saying the press gallery is protecting Hanson?
I'm saying the press gallery protected itself. Jericho made them look bad—he pointed out they asked weak questions. The response was to remove him. That sends a message to other journalists about what happens when you critique your peers publicly.
What about the Sandilands and Fordham fight? How does that fit?
It's the same ecosystem. Sandilands is using his platform to rehabilitate Hanson's image, calling her inspirational. Fordham challenges him, so Sandilands attacks back. Everyone's performing for their audience, and the lines between commentary and advocacy blur.
And Hooton in New Zealand—is that connected?
It's the same pattern globally. A non-journalist gets put in charge of a newsroom because he understands power and strategy. Journalism becomes secondary to access and relationships. Standards erode quietly.
What's the through-line?
Institutional capture. Not by one person or party, but by a logic where access, relationships, and power matter more than asking hard questions or maintaining independence. The Messi gif story, the Palmer ad next to Irankunda's family—these are all symptoms of the same disease: nobody's watching the watchers anymore.