Episode 3: The Media Matrix: Who's Programming Whom?

The most powerful weapon ever invented wasn't a bomb. It was a story. In this deep dive episode, Lauren exposes the hidden forces shaping what you think and believe. From Rupert Murdoch's media empire to algorithmic manipulation, discover how the information ecosystem controls public opinion—and how to reclaim your mental sovereignty.
 
This episode breaks down the mechanics of media ownership in Australia, reveals how social media algorithms hijack your nervous system, and provides practical strategies for protecting your peace while staying informed. Lauren shares personal insights on media consumption and mental health, plus actionable steps for becoming a more conscious consumer of information.
 
What You'll Learn

• How media ownership concentration in Australia compares globally (spoiler: we're ranked second-worst in the world)
• The real story behind the 2019 Australian federal election coverage
• Why your brain treats "BREAKING NEWS" alerts like physical threats
• The hidden costs of constant connectivity on your mental health
• Practical strategies for digital detox and mindful news consumption
• How to identify quality, independent journalism sources
• The difference between information and manipulation

Key Topics Covered

Media Ownership & Control

• Rupert Murdoch's 60%+ dominance of Australian print media
• The dismantling of cross-ownership laws in the 1980s-90s
• Regional media monopolies and their impact on democracy
• ABC funding cuts totaling over $783 million since 2014

The Digital Revolution

• How Facebook, TikTok, and other platforms replaced traditional gatekeepers
• The 2021 Facebook news ban in Australia and its consequences
• Filter bubbles and algorithmic manipulation
• The rise of citizen journalism and its double-edged impact

Psychological Manipulation

• How "breaking news" triggers fight-or-flight responses
• The neuroscience of outrage and engagement
• Dopamine addiction and infinite scroll design
• Compassion fatigue and attention fragmentation

Personal Protection Strategies

• Digital hygiene practices for mental health
• Creating media-free zones and news fasting
• Mindful consumption techniques
• Building emotional resilience against information overload

Recommended Australian News Sources

• Crikey (fearless political reporting)
• The Saturday Paper (weekly deep dives)
• IndigenousX (Indigenous perspectives)
• Michael West Media (corporate accountability)
• The Conversation (academic expertise)
• ABC & SBS News (public broadcasting)

Essential Reading

• "The Men Who Killed the News" by Eric Beecher

Mental Health Resources
If media consumption is affecting your wellbeing:

• Lifeline: 13 11 14
• Beyond Blue: 1300 224 636
• Headspace: headspace.org.au
• MindSpot: mindspot.org.au

Music Credits
Music by Alex Audiorezout, zec53, Mykola Sosin, Ashot Danielyan, Valentin Iakovlev, Viacheslav Starostin, Jeremiah Alves and Doobie Sadeh from Pixabay.

Connect & Support
If this episode resonated with you, please share it with someone who needs to hear it. Subscribe for more episodes and join the conversation about media literacy and mental sovereignty.

Remember: Your attention is your power. Your curiosity is rebellion. And the truth is never afraid of being questioned.

Transcript

The most powerful weapon ever invented wasn't a bomb. It was a story. And today, we're going to talk about the people who own the storytellers.
 
Hello friends, and welcome back to Level Up: Unfiltered. I'm Lauren, and I'm thrilled you're joining me for this deep dive into the media.
 
Today, we're stepping into the real matrix. The media matrix.
 
Before we dive in, let's define "media": It isn't just the 6pm news. It's newspapers, radio, podcasts, blogs, TikTok, Instagram reels, Reddit threads, and YouTube. This is the information ecosystem — the system of headlines, soundbites, and algorithms that deliver a version of reality to your doorstep, consciously or not.
 
So the real question is not just: what's true? It's: Who benefits from me believing this version of the story?
 
I want to be clear from the outset: I'm not a media expert. This is based on a lifetime of observation and research. My biases will leak through, which is, I don't trust the media conglomerates as far as I can kick them. I'm not talking about all the hardworking reporters, but the businesses behind the ink and lenses.
 
Once upon a time, journalism aimed to be society's watchdog. Think: Watergate, The Pentagon Papers, or the work of Australian journalists like Hedley Thomas with The Teacher's Pet, which helped solve a 40 year old case. Lives were risked for truth. Journalists like John Pilger spent careers exposing uncomfortable truths about power.
 
But as the business of news changed, so did its mission.
 
The business model changed: instead of selling newspapers to readers to fund a public service, news organisations began selling audience attention to advertisers to maximise profit. In Australia, we've lost over 100 local newspapers since 2019. The Australian Community Media network, which once served regional towns, has been stripped back. Communities in Goulburn, Bathurst, and others lost their dedicated local voice.
 
This isn't just an Australian problem. In the US, newspaper circulation plummeted from 62 million in 1990 to 24 million by 2020. Newsroom employment fell by over 50%. In the UK, over 300 local papers closed between 2005 and 2018.
 
The 24-Hour news beast was unleashed when CNN launched in 1980, creating an endless demand for content to fill the airwaves. But 9/11 weaponised it—we began demanding instant analysis of complex events. Australia followed; Sky News Australia launched in 1996, and later, our own 24-hour ABC News channel arrived.
 
This speed gave birth to "churnalism," a term coined by Nick Davies. Reporters are pressured to churn out multiple stories a day, often just rewriting press releases, for clicks and quotas—not context. A 2008 Cardiff University study found a staggering 80% of news stories were wholly or mainly recycled from press releases and wire copy.
 
The clouds were already gathering on the horizon for traditional journalism. And then, the storm made landfall.
 
The perfect storm arrived: In 2004, Facebook launched, then Twitter in 2006, and then the smartphone revolution. For the first time, anyone could broadcast to the world—which meant powerful truths could spread, but so could devastating lies, just as quickly. Speed trumped depth. Outrage trumped nuance. And public trust became collateral damage.
 
The biggest factor shaping Australian media is ownership. And for decades, one empire has cast a long shadow over the entire landscape—Rupert Murdoch's. His influence is so foundational that he didn't just play the game; he built the board we're all still playing on today.
 
Let's look at the numbers. News Corp owns over 60% of our print newspapers —The Australian, Herald Sun, Daily Telegraph, Courier Mail, Advertiser—plus the influential Sky News Australia. But the reach is even more staggering. News Corp papers have a combined readership of about 17.3 million weekly. That's a number that equates to roughly two-thirds of our population, though it includes people who read multiple publications. The point is, the reach is immense.
 
How did we get here? It wasn't accidental. In the 80s and 90s, governments dismantled cross-ownership laws. The Broadcasting Services Act of 1992 was supposed to promote diversity but instead enabled massive consolidation. This kingmaking power hasn't just played out in national politics. Its most profound impact is felt at the local level, where alternatives don't exist.
 
In regional Australia, the situation is even starker. Towns like Townsville or Darwin often have just one major newspaper—a Murdoch paper. So the same editorial influence that can make or break prime ministers in Canberra is the only voice informing voters in these communities. When your only local source has a singular editorial line, democratic discourse doesn't just suffer—it withers.
 
The other players are powerful, but operate on a different scale:
 
Nine Entertainment: Owns the Sydney Morning Herald, The Age, the AFR, the Nine Network, and a huge stake in radio and digital.
 
Seven West Media: Controls Channel 7, The West Australian, and regional stations.
 
The ABC which is our public broadcaster, has been critically wounded by over $783 million in funding cuts since 2014. It's routinely accused of bias, yet studies consistently show its news coverage is among the most balanced.
 
SBS: Caught between its public mandate and commercial pressures.
 
This concentration is a global problem. In the US, a handful of corporations control 90% of media. In the UK, three companies control 71% of national newspaper circulation.
 
The influence isn't just theoretical. Research by the Australia Institute found that during the 2019 election, Murdoch papers ran 54 negative stories about climate policy for every positive one. That's not journalism; that's a political campaign.
 
The crucial insight is that no network is truly neutral. The BBC faces government pressure, Al Jazeera reflects Qatari interests, and Fox News has a clear conservative bias. The illusion of choice is often just different brands selling similar biases tailored for their audience.
 
The old monopoly is showing cracks. Traditional newspaper circulation is in freefall. The Australian's print sales have halved since 2010. Young Australians are increasingly turning away, seeking news from new, diverse sources online. It seemed like the gates were finally coming down.
 
But as one system of control began to weaken, a new, even more powerful and chaotic one was being built to replace it.
 

The old landscape wasn't just changed—it was obliterated and rebuilt by Silicon Valley. The new media moguls are tech titans.
 
Mark Zuckerberg controls how billions see the world through Facebook and Instagram. Elon Musk bought Twitter for narrative control. TikTok's algorithm, owned by Chinese company ByteDance, shapes a generation's reality.
 
In Australia, 79% of adults use social media, with Facebook still dominating. But TikTok is exploding; over 40% of 18 - 24-year-olds use it as a news source. This changes not just how we get news, but what we consider news.
 
These platforms don't show you reality; they show you what their algorithms calculate will keep you scrolling. Facebook's own internal research, revealed by a whistleblower, proved its algorithm promoted divisive content because outrage drives engagement.
 
We saw this play out brutally during Facebook's 2021 news ban in Australia. When asked to pay for news, Facebook simply blocked it. Suddenly, health departments couldn't share COVID updates. Emergency services couldn't post bushfire warnings. Misinformation flooded the vacuum.
 
Research from the ANU shows these algorithms create "filter bubbles," locking us into parallel realities. If you're conservative, you see conservative news. If you're progressive, you see progressive news. We're losing a shared facts base.
 
And it's inside these separate little online worlds that something new exploded onto the scene: the Citizen Journalist. This is the ultimate double-edged sword.
 
On one edge, it's genuinely revolutionary. Social media has revolutionised news reporting, opening it up to everyone in a new and unprecedented way. During the Black Summer bushfires, Twitter provided real-time updates that mainstream media couldn't. Indigenous activists use it to bypass ignored stories.
 
But because everyone now has this power, it also means that anyone can claim to be an expert. Anti-vaccine misinformation spreads as easily as legitimate news. The challenge isn't censorship; it's discernment.
 
The fundamental business model has flipped. Traditional media sold newspapers. Digital media sells your attention. Your data—your clicks, your time, your outrage—is the product.
 
And now, we're entering the next phase: the age of AI. This brings a whole new set of promises and perils.
 
On one hand, AI could be a powerful tool for good—helping fact-checkers debunk myths in real-time, translating news for global audiences, and helping journalists sift through massive datasets to uncover corruption stories they'd never find alone.
 
But on the other hand, it supercharges the very worst parts of the system. AI can now generate convincing fake text, images, and videos at an industrial scale, making disinformation campaigns cheaper, more personalized, and harder than ever to detect. The same technology that could help verify the news could also be used to flood the zone with even more sophisticated lies.
 
But there's hope here, too. Australian outlets like Crikey, The Saturday Paper, and The Guardian Australia have built models around quality. Substack lets journalists like Michael West connect directly with readers. The tools that enable lies also empower truth-telling. The question is which we choose to amplify.
 
 Let's get concrete. How does this power actually work? Let's look at the 2019 Australian federal election.
 
Every major poll predicted a Labor victory. Scott Morrison's Coalition won. What happened?
 
Analysis found Murdoch papers published 54% more negative stories about Labor in the final weeks. The coverage was strategically timed. Stories about a Labor "death tax"—a policy that simply did not exist—ran on front pages across the country simultaneously. The Courier-Mail's election day front page wasn't news; it was pure opinion: "LABOR CAN'T MANAGE MONEY."
 
We see the same pattern with climate change. Despite 97% scientific consensus, a 2019 study found Australian media coverage was far less supportive than in other countries. During the Black Summer fires, while the world linked them to climate change, much of our coverage focused on arson and "fuel loads." A Sky News host famously, and falsely, claimed "Greens policies" were to blame.
 
This playbook isn't just local. Look at the Murdoch-Trump relationship. Fox News was Trump's biggest cheerleader. But internal messages revealed in court showed executives privately calling his election claims "crazy" while publicly amplifying them. The coverage only turned critical when the relationship became financially toxic for Murdoch.
 
This pattern forces us to ask a crucial question about news in general: "Why is this negative story about a powerful person coming out now?"
 
The Jeffrey Epstein case is a perfect example. Details about powerful connections were available for years. But these details were only taken seriously once those individuals lost the protection of their powerful allies. It's less about journalism and more about information warfare.
 
We see this pattern locally. Stories about politicians' pasts often appear when they're politically inconvenient, not when they're actually newsworthy.
 
Perhaps most insidiously, the media doesn't need to lie to bury truth—it just floods the zone with brighter, louder distractions. Notice how major corporate scandals often get buried under celebrity drama or political theatre.
 
Once you see these patterns, you can't unsee them:
 
Stories that serve power get sustained coverage.
 
Stories that challenge power get brief coverage, then vanish.
 
Timing is everything, and it's rarely a coincidence.
 
The distraction machine amplifies when inconvenient truths emerge.
 
Understanding these mechanics is how we protect ourselves. The manipulation requires unconscious consumption. When you're conscious, you're free.
 
Now let's talk about words. In today's digital age, words come with invisible warning labels.
 
Platforms moderate content with algorithms designed to 'protect' us. This sounds reasonable, right? In reality, the system is broken and frequently ends up harming the very people it's supposed to protect.
 
In 2021, Australia passed the Online Safety Act. It's well-intentioned—to fight cyberbullying. But it gives power to force platforms to remove "harmful" content, a term that's dangerously vague. During COVID, it was used to remove posts from qualified doctors questioning policies—lumping legitimate debate in with genuine misinformation.
 
Here's what most people missed: platforms don't need to delete your content to silence you. They can shadow ban you—limiting your reach without telling you. Research suggests different voices are silenced in different ways, but everyone gets silenced.
 
The cruelest irony is that the people most often censored are those who need to be heard most: Indigenous activists sharing stories about deaths in custody get flagged for "violence." Survivors of sexual assault have their testimonies removed for "graphic content."
 
This created the "euphemism economy"—where creators can't say "suicide," they say "unalive." Can't say "rape," they say "SA." We can't discuss serious topics directly, which cripples our ability to address them effectively.
 
Australia doesn't have strong free speech protections. This makes us vulnerable to both government and corporate censorship.
 
The most disturbing part is that the rules about what you can say are made by unelected tech executives in Silicon Valley. Facebook's "Community Standards" are written in California. TikTok's policies reflect China's sensibilities. And much of the actual moderation is outsourced to poorly paid contractors in other countries, who must make split-second decisions on content they don't culturally understand.
 
The scale is impossible. Billions of posts daily. AI can't understand nuance. So we get blunt tools: over-censorship of legitimate speech and under-censorship of actual harm.
 
This isn't an argument for no moderation. It's an argument for better moderation: transparency, local context, real appeals processes, and user control. The good news is people are fighting back through legal challenges, alternative platforms, and awareness. Information wants to be free, and it usually finds a way.
 
Now, let's talk biology. Because understanding how media hacks your brain is the first step to taking it back.
 
We already talked a bit about this in the last episode. Your nervous system evolved over millions of years to handle immediate, physical threats. A rustling bush triggered a fight-or-flight response that saved your life.
 
Your brain can't tell the difference between that lion and a "BREAKING NEWS" alert. Both trigger cortisol, elevated heart rate, and heightened alertness.
 
Modern media is engineered to hijack this ancient system.
 
The red "BREAKING NEWS " banners trigger danger responses.
 
Countdown clocks create artificial urgency.
 
Notification sounds are tested for maximum psychological impact.
 
The infinite scroll feature is no accident; it's deliberately engineered to mimic the addictive pull of a poker machine.
 
The impact is measurable. We know that constant connectivity is linked to rising rates of anxiety and depression. During peak COVID news consumption, calls to crisis support lines skyrocketed.
 
Platforms don't profit from your happiness; they profit from your engagement. And nothing drives engagement like outrage. Research found moral and emotional language increases sharing by 20%. Angry posts get shared 34% more. Your outrage is their business model.
 
Every like, share, and notification triggers a dopamine hit—the same neurotransmitter involved in drug and gambling addiction. The average person checks their phone constantly. The sad truth is we often spend more time on screens than we do sleeping.
 
Constant exposure to suffering doesn't make us more compassionate; it makes us numb. It's called "compassion fatigue." When everything is urgent, nothing is.
 
Perhaps most damaging, it fragments our attention. Our ability to focus is being eroded. We're losing the capacity for deep thought, stuck in a state of constant distraction.
 
You're not broken. You are not weak.
 
You're a human being with a normal brain.
 
You're having a predictable reaction to an environment that was deliberately designed by billion-dollar companies to be completely irresistible.
 
You're not losing a fair fight; you're trying to win a rigged game.
 
Let me get personal for a moment. I'm an incredibly sensitive person who cares deeply about so many issues. Spending too much time on social media or reading the news wreaks havoc on my mental health. So I need to take regular media blackout breaks. Without them, I spiral. Some days, the headlines make me want to hide from the world.
 
I'm still trying to learn that my distress doesn't help anyone. My anxiety doesn't reduce the suffering happening in the world. When I'm emotionally overwhelmed, I'm less capable of meaningful action. And I've learned to protect my mental health at any cost.
 
Another thing I do when I'm too overwhelmed is I step outside look up at the stars. This helps me remember: we're only here for a blink of an eye and we're really so small compared to the vastness of the universe.
 
These things work for me. But here are some tips that might help you protect your mental health.
 
It starts with accepting one fundamental truth: You have permission to protect your peace. You are not required to carry the weight of every injustice. The world managed without your constant attention for billions of years. It will manage if you take a break.
 
Your attention is your power. Reclaiming it isn't just self-care; it's an act of resistance. Here's how.
 
Turn off all non-essential notifications. Your phone should not be allowed to interrupt you.
 
Delete social media apps from your phone. Use the browser version instead—it adds just enough friction to break the mindless scrolling habit.
 
Create phone-free zones. Your bedroom, the dinner table, and your car are great places to start.
 
Next, Transform How You Consume Information. This is mindful consumption:
 
Audit your sources. Ask yourself: "Does this source help me understand the world? Does it align with my values? Or does it just make me outraged?"
 
Seek out sources that explain context, offer solutions, and represent diverse views.
 
Before you click, ask: "Will this information help me make a better decision today?" If the answer is no, don't waste your energy on it.
 
Set a timer for news consumption. 20 minutes is a good limit. Don't graze on news all day.
 
Finally, Actively Repair Your Nervous System. This is non-negotiable maintenance:
 
Get into nature without your devices. Let your brain reset.
 
Practice deep breathing or meditation. It directly counteracts the stress response triggered by the news cycle.
 
Move your body. Exercise is one of the most effective ways to ground yourself and burn off anxiety.
 
Establish sacred boundaries: Designate the first and last hour of your day as media-free. Practice a weekly "news fast."
 
This is what modern sovereignty looks like. It's about making conscious choices instead of being swept along by the current. Your peace of mind is the foundation of everything. Protect it fiercely.
 
We've walked through the media matrix together—the ownership, the algorithms, the manipulation. We've diagnosed the problem. Now, let's talk about your path forward. Because awareness without action is just another form of consumption.
 
Your journey to media sovereignty starts with two things: curating your sources and changing your habits.
 
If you're looking for a better information diet, remember that no source is perfect, but some do a much better job. Here are a few Australian outlets known for their quality:
 
For fearless political reporting, check out Crikey.
 
For weekly deep dives, try The Saturday Paper.
 
For essential Indigenous perspectives, follow IndigenousX.
 
For holding corporate power accountable, read Michael West Media.
 
For strong regional stories, see APAC News.
 
For academic experts made accessible, read The Conversation.
 
And for core, fact-based reporting, ABC & SBS News are still vital resources.
 
And if you want to truly understand the history of how we got here, I highly reading "The Men Who Killed The News" by Eric Beecher. It's a sharp, essential look inside the Australian media landscape.
 
But remember, information without action can breed anxiety. If a story concerns you, ask the most empowering question: "What can I do?" Then do it. Write to your representative. Support a relevant organisation. Have a conversation with a friend. This is the antidote to feeling helpless.
 
Finally, never forget that your well-being is your foundation. If the news cycle is affecting your mental health, please know that help is available. A quick search for mental health support in your area will connect you with professionals who can help. Protecting your peace is the first step to thinking clearly.
 
We are witnessing the birth of a new information ecosystem. The old gatekeepers are losing control. For the first time, we can all be storytellers.
 
We can choose to support truth over profit, community over division, and solutions over outrage.
 
Your attention is your power. Your curiosity is rebellion. And the truth is never afraid of being questioned.
 
Thank you for listening to Level Up: Unfiltered. If this resonated with you, please share it with one person who needs to hear it and be sure to subscribe for more.
 
Until next time—stay curious, stay critical, and keep levelling up. Bye.
 
Copyright Notice: This transcript is provided for accessibility purposes. All rights reserved.