Message in a battle is the key, not shiny delivery

When discussing media strategy with MPs, I used to play a little game in my head.

Malcolm Turnbull is a fiend with a smartphone.

When discussing media strategy with MPs, I used to play a little game in my head before I even looked at their numbers — likes, followers or whatever the measure might have been.

If they called it “new media”, their results were usually parlous and a serious lift in effort needed. If “social media” was the des­criptor, it was clear they hadn’t come to grips with online’s now ubiquitous power beyond happy snaps and weekend updates.

And those rare ones who called it just “media”? More often than not, their numbers backed up my initial assessment that they got it and were well on their way to harnessing its political potential.

In the past, media was the sum of its parts, neatly compartmentalised via platform, and regulated via delivery mechanism rather than content. I spent most of the Howard years working in the communications portfolio firstly for Richard Alston when we tried to update Paul Keating’s old media laws (and failed) and later for Helen ­Coonan when we got the reforms through. In a media landscape that’s changed almost beyond recognition, content is the game-changer rather than the means of delivery. The revolution of technology is disrupting almost every aspect of life and business and politics is not immune.

Once the medium for news feeds, journalistic updates and left-wing ranters, Twitter is now a platform for announcements from the US President that’s junked decades of White House spinners, diplomatic cables and those Washington types who’ve made a career out of reading the tea leaves of the various administrations. In 140 characters or less, and often in the twilight hours, Donald Trump delivers an acerbic message that makes his official spokesman virtually redundant (hardly a bad thing).

Closer to home, Malcolm Turnbull is a fiend with a smartphone, a tablet, or whatever hot new thing is “it”. Anyone who has sat in a meeting with the Prime Minister knows they have 10 minutes to get to the point before he loses interest and starts to fidget for his technological fix.

It used to be the BlackBerry as he scrolled through emails with the addiction so pronounced we used to warn people that as soon as it was in his hand, the meeting was in “wind-up” mode and they had to pitch like an ad executive about to lose their biggest client. Now it’s the iPhone and the warning’s still the same.

Communicating is the bread and butter of politics so if you’re in the game, you must be across each and every way there is to get your message out. Diversity of platform and the nuances of demography mean that no channel is supreme anymore, but that doesn’t mean political types should fall into the trap of junking old ways for new.

Effort must be put into everything — print, television, radio, online and more — and despite what the hipster in the skinny suit will tell you, there’s no one killer app that’s going to win your seat if the message doesn’t work.

If you believe the so-called experts, Turnbull understands the political power of the online world in a way his predecessor never did. I disagree: he might get the platform but his predecessor got the message. A former journalist, Tony Abbott’s focus was always on the authenticity of his message rather than the ideology of how it got to market.

Abbott always argued that a good message would build its own momentum and his mantra (stopping the boats, scrapping the carbon tax) — while much maligned by the urban elites — was a strategic devise designed to cut through information overload most families contend with as they go about their busy lives.

At the Liberal Party’s national conference on Saturday, Turnbull spruiked Facebook in his keynote speech saying it was necessary “for strong political and effective communication, getting around the mainstream media and making sure our message gets direct to our supporters”.

It might surprise some observers to know that Abbott still leads Turnbull on Facebook — 429,630 to the PM’s 359,360 — because “everyman” Abbott knows that Facebook is the home of ordinary people in the seats that change government, and it’s now where so many get their news and current affairs. After his own speech on Saturday calling on colleagues to be more authentic to improve the polls, I’m surprised Scott Morrison has only 36,740 followers.

Embarrassingly, one of Turnbull’s top political advisers, senator Scott Ryan, only manages 1250 followers, so ­clearly the PM has his work cut out if he expects key allies to do more to take the fight up to Labor. For minor parties and activists, the use of online technology is a game-changer. Previously the cost of mass advertising was prohibitive and only featured in campaigns, if at all.

Now players like One Nation can operate a virtual supporters’ channel via various online technologies.

Segmenting the audience was key to Trump’s success, and it means unwavering critics can be locked out altogether. A good example here is Pauline Hanson’s regular use of live-stream forums to talk to 500,000-plus supporters, while declining interview requests from the ABC.

Political player GetUp! (which sits outside the rules for political parties, strangely enough) has made online its beachhead. By mobilising armchair activists, it is a consistent thorn in the side of conservative governments and business alike, and only getting stronger.

Over the weekend, the Liberal Party launched its own web interface — A Fair Go — to mixed reviews.

A better online strategy is clearly needed after last year’s disastrous federal campaign but, again, while old-school reliance on traditional media misses the need to be platform agnostic, confusing new mediums rather than a better message is equally deadly. To borrow James Carville’s “it’s the economy, stupid” line, in this context, “it’s the message, you idiot”. If the message stinks, it doesn’t matter how slick and shiny the delivery, it just won’t hit home.

And if it isn’t authentic to the person delivering it, you might as well give up — about the only thing worse is when the punters have stopped listening.

Peta Credlin is a Sky News commentator and former COS to prime minister Tony Abbott.