‘Silly is not what our viewers like’: Michael Rowland on breakfast TV

In November of 2008, Michael Rowland – the ABC’s Washington correspondent at the time – crossed live to the first episode of News Breakfast. He was practically talking to himself: just 8000 people were tuned in across Sydney and Brisbane, while ratings were too small to measure in Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth. The program finished the year with an audience less than one-twentieth the size of Sunrise’s.

“It was three men and a dog in those early days,” admits Rowland, who took over as co-host in 2010. “But we always aimed high. With breakfast TV, it takes time to establish familiarity with viewers.”

The commercial networks may have underestimated their new rival back then – but not any more. Since 2016, News Breakfast has averaged 150,000 city viewers. (This seemingly small figure is comprised of the 1 million or so Australians who catch at least a few minutes of the show each week.) In contrast, Sunrise and Today have seen their ratings dwindle while Ten has quit the early morning market altogether.

Michael Rowland lunches with Michael Lallo at Seddon Deadly Sins.Credit: Justin McManus

There was genuine reason to celebrate, therefore, when News Breakfast reached its 10th anniversary this month. “We have fun without going overboard; without going down the cash cow route or dressing up in funny suits and doing stunts on air,” Rowland says of his on-air partnership with Virginia Trioli. “Being silly is not what our audience would like.”

We’re in a sunny courtyard at Seddon Deadly Sins, a cafe near his inner west home. It’s the kind of place Melbourne does best: excellent food in an unpretentious setting. He orders the thematically-appropriate “Gluttony”; two poached eggs on sourdough with bacon, mushrooms, tomato and onion. I choose a Benedict with a rich sauce and ham hock.

The 'Glutton' breakfast at Seddon Deadly Sins cafe in Melbourne.Credit: Justin McManus

Over the course of the afternoon, Rowland is approached three times by fellow patrons. “Big fan of your show,” says one man. “I always watch you and Virginia,” says another.

For this seasoned political reporter, becoming a television “personality” was an adjustment. “It was a bit of a struggle to step out of ‘journalist mode’. I’m still a journalist but being a breakfast TV presenter just happens to be part of that now.”

It’s a long way from his first job as a copy boy at Fairfax’s now-defunct tabloid, The Sun. Rowland – the oldest of five siblings from a Catholic family in Sydney’s west – would start each day at the bottle shop, buying slabs of beer for the paper’s sub-editors. “They would just go through can after can after can,” he recalls. “It was the days of reporters drinking and smoking at their desks.”

In 1987, he landed a cadetship with the ABC, covering state politics for 2BL (now called ABC Radio Sydney). Similar roles in Canberra and Melbourne followed, then a four-year stint in the United States.

When he appeared live on News Breakfast’s debut, all those years ago, Barack Obama had just won the presidency. By 2016, most major media outlets wrongly predicted Trump would be laughed into obscurity by voters. “The lesson for journalists is to just get out, away from the bubble and outside the beltway in Washington,” Rowland says. “The few journalists who actually did that [in 2016] were saying, ‘Hillary Clinton has not got this locked down’.”

Eggs Benedict at Seddon Deadly Sins.Credit: Justin McManus

Recently, Rowland launched Rick Morton’s memoir 100 Years of Dirt. In his book, Morton takes aim at wealthy right-wing pundits who presume to speak on behalf of the poor – and left-leaning reporters who don’t fully grasp the hardship of common problems, such as unaffordable power bills. “Very few journalists come from the wrong side of the tracks,” Rowland says. “They don’t have direct experience of living hand-to-mouth and they don’t know many people who have.”

Those who work in breakfast TV understand that certain things come with the territory, including “at home” magazine profiles and an expectation that hosts will plunder their personal lives for on-air anecdotes. Yet Rowland and his wife, Nicola Webber, have resisted such pressures for the sake of their teenage son and daughter. “I just don’t wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to family,” he says. “I’m very conscious of my kids’ privacy. They cop some good-natured ribbing at school but in no way do I want to expose them to anything worse than that.”

Instead, he amuses viewers with a stream of terrible “dad jokes”. Those that elicit an eye roll from Trioli are especially satisfying to him. “My shins are sore from all the kicks she’s given me,” he says.

He describes their partnership as an on-air marriage. “We mix in different circles, come from different backgrounds and often have strongly different views. But there’s that base of genuine respect and friendship.”

He’s heard the rumours of tension between co-hosts on rival breakfast shows. He couldn’t imagine having to fake a rapport with Trioli, whom he considers a friend. “The viewers can absolutely sniff that out; all the fixed grins and too-loud laughter. You can’t magic that stuff up.”

In September, the pair found themselves reporting on the sacking of ABC’s managing director, Michelle Guthrie. Within a few days, chairman Justin Milne was also gone, after it emerged he had pushed for reporters Andrew Probyn and Emma Alberici to be fired (among other alleged acts of editorial meddling).

“That was him completely overstepping the mark,” Rowland says. “You can’t be calling for people to be sacked because – as he described it – they’re upsetting the government.”

It wouldn’t hurt for Guthrie's replacement, he adds, to have some journalistic experience.

“A lot of people come to the ABC for news and current affairs and if I had my druthers, I’d like the next managing director to have [worked in journalism]. Increasingly, there is a justifiable focus on what we do. We are serving the public and we have to be accountable; having a managing director with some knowledge of how journalism works would be great.”

Every week, the ABC reaches almost three-quarters of the population through its various platforms. Despite diminishing public trust in media generally, almost eight in 10 Australians believe Aunty provides fair and balanced news coverage.

The bill, please.Credit: Michael Lallo

It’s easy to take the ABC for granted – but that would be a mistake, Rowland insists. Having lived in the United States, he knows what it means for a country to be without a well-funded public broadcaster.

“[Non-profit outlets] PBS and NPR do some incredible work,” he says. “But they have to do these telethons with their begging bowl out, appealing to wealthy donors.

“They have the same commitment as the ABC in providing solid, independent journalism, but they’re lower down in the pecking order of the American media scene.

“If any country needs an ABC-type body to offer straight news and analysis right now, it’s the United States. It’s so polarised, with little echo chambers like Fox on the right and MSNBC on the left and people seeking outlets that just reinforce their opinions.”

Rowland believes he has the best gig in television. On the day we meet, he has already interviewed Prime Minister Scott Morrison and rock band The Living End. No wonder he’s been in the job for eight years and counting.

When News Breakfast began, it aired only on ABC2; now it screens across the main channel and 24-hour news station. Trioli’s first co-anchor, Barrie Cassidy, still appears regularly to discuss politics. (Former ABC foreign correspondent Peter Lloyd was her intended partner, but was caught buying crystal meth in Singapore in July 2008. He served six months in prison and later wrote a book about his experience.)

“News Breakfast is still developing but it does that organically,” Rowland says. “Any breakfast show that stays still won’t be around for very long.

“I don’t love it when the alarm goes off at 3am – but I do love it once I’m showered and caffeinated and on-set. It might be a stretch but who knows? I could end up doing this for another eight years.”

SEDDON DEADLY SINS
148 Victoria Street, Seddon
03 9689 3092
Tue to Sun, 8am to 5pm