It is a life-defining moment, for James Murdoch, to describe his father and wider family in an interview with the Atlantic. Much of the rough and tumble and backstabbing – Rupert essentially pitting James against the older Lachlan, in a fight that continually vexed him because his favourite (Lachlan) never won – has existed in the public domain for years as rumour. Much of it has been proved or demonstrated within reason, either by biographers – Michael Wolff in particular – or by events, culminating in Rupert and Lachlan’s legal case to secure Lachlan’s hold on the Murdoch family trust, against the other siblings, James, Liz and Prue, at the end of last year, which Rupert lost.
Yet none of those machinations, spanning decades, could really encompass the sheer unbridled nastiness of this family. James describes a meeting with Rupert’s lawyer, Rupert himself sitting at the table, feigning a lack of interest. A series of questions directed to James – “Have you ever done anything successful on your own?”; “Why were you too busy to say ‘Happy Birthday’ to your father when he turned 90?” – are so loaded and needling it’s hard to imagine them emitting from any kind of professional. James recounts thinking his father was distracted, playing on his phone, only to realise that he was actually texting these questions to the lawyer.
