Edward Bernays was considered the godfather of American propaganda, the dark art politely referred to in corporate circles as public relations and marketing. During a lengthy career—he died at age 103—Bernays successfully sold women on the idea that smoking was preferable to eating and that Lucky Strikes were to be brandished as feminist ‘torches of freedom’ (while privately imploring his wife to quit). Later, he leveraged manufactured populism and credulous journalists to warn of a communist threat in Guatemala, eventually helping engineer a CIA-backed coup that installed a dictator more friendly to the interests of another client, United Fruit Company.
“A rubber stamp inked with advertising slogans, with editorials, with published scientific data, with the trivialities of tabloids and the profundities of history, but quite innocent of original thought,” was how Bernays summarized his methodology.
Decades later, the tools in a propagandist’s Pandora’s Box remain largely unchanged. The contriving of phony public support may be more technologically advanced, but access-hungry stenographers and rote messengers can be had for a few riyal. Well, not quite that cheaply, at least not for LIV Golf. And yet the Saudi-backed circuit’s attempt to simulate buzz for its season finale at Donald Trump’s Doral Resort in Florida was executed with a predictable clumsiness that belies its budget. The more money Greg Norman spends, the less Crown Prince MBS seems to get in return.
Friday brought a deluge of social media posts by players declaring their happiness, excitement, gratitude and amazement at LIV’s growth and game-changing impact. Their dispatches bore all the spontaneity and authenticity of hostage tapes, albeit from willing and well-compensated captives.
“What an amazing year it’s been. Game-changing,” wrote Sergio Garcia.
“Incredible to see LIV grow the sport,” added Louis Oosthuizen.
“This was an amazing year and can’t wait for the next years to come. I’m super honored to be part of Fireballs.” That from Eugenio Lopez-Chacarra. Fireballs refers to his team and not to the missiles his employer has been raining upon Yemeni civilians since the Spaniard was 14 years old.
“I am so proud and honored to be part of the Niblicks,” said Bubba Watson, referring to the team that owns him but for which he hasn’t actually played due to injury. “It’s been an amazing year. Five months ago to where we are today—LIV Golf is taking off. Yeah, I said it. LIV Golf is taking off.”
“Making the jump into a start up product like LIV and seeing it grow so much, so quickly has been exciting and rewarding to be part of,” wrote Graeme McDowell. His followers seemed unconvinced. “Are they literally standing over you with the sabre when ‘you’ write this crap?” one replied.
Thus golfers are rendered bots, peddling en masse a narrative of success achieved and traction gained, despite scant supporting evidence that LIV is in fact “taking off.”
The worldwide viewing audience for LIV events is often comparable to the number of Super Bowl viewers who might die of natural causes before the halftime show, and that in turn is a multiple of the number of spectators on site. Tickets to the game-changing event that’s growing the sport this weekend in Miami were being sold—or, more accurately, were available—for $4 on the secondary market. There’s no TV deal, despite LIV negotiating to buy time on Fox Sports for its product, and no major sponsors eager to don a hazmat suit and climb aboard the Good Ship Shark. Those touting LIV as a rousing success are paid by LIV, or aspire to be. Beyond that congregation, believers are harder to come by.
A day may arrive when LIV becomes the success that its paid endorsers and would-be bootlickers claim it already is. But for now, the only storyline it has is money. That grants LIV staying power—so long as it suits the whims of its isolated, mercurial benefactor—but sports fans tend not to grant allegiance to cash-centric enterprises (Jay Monahan would be advised to note that this is as true of FedEx Cup payouts as it is of LIV purses).
This weekend’s conclusion of the LIV season won’t herald an interval in the accompanying theatrics. Expect rumors of fresh defections, more threats of litigation, increased bluster, more frequent claims of conspiracies. But there will also be a steady drumbeat for a deal to end the rancor. It won’t emanate only from those with no stomach for a fight and who want an exit ramp to easy street, but also from industry figures who sense an opportunity to suction Saudi money and who need to first position their avarice as an act of conciliation for the good of the sport.
Beware the approaching troupe of ethical acrobats who try to convince us that long-term commerce can’t be hostage to short-term concerns, like bonesaw murders and rights abuses. They represent the final push of Saudi propaganda, outwardly respectable moral ciphers whose aim is to exhaust doubters and critics to a point where accommodations can be reached and checks cashed. A long winter lies ahead.
