Billionaire Media Moguls: How Wealth Controls Truth and Threatens Democracy
Depending upon which side of the political spectrum you are perched, the word “billionaire” can just as easily denote immorality as it can achievement. It can, of course, be perceived as personal success, which by its very definition is what capitalist ideology strives for—albeit at the expense of others. However, with enough discernment, the entire concept can be recognised for what it truly is: the ultimate depiction of economic anarchy, concentration of power, and the erosion of social responsibility in favour of individualism.
In Albert Einstein's book “Why Socialism” he broaches all these ideas. One term he uses, which seamlessly describes our present political and social climate, is “control of information.” Or, to expound on the phrase—the idea that in a capitalist society (like the one we currently exist within), private capitalists often control the media and education, which limits the ability of individuals to make informed decisions and participate effectively in the political process. Or, to simplify: your bank account determines power, not merit.
This creates the dangerous possibility that personal agendas might get in the way of the spread of impartial information. Does this sound familiar? Charlatans like Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Rupert Murdoch, or even Mark Zuckerberg already have an incredible monopoly on media, funded by a similarly incredible accumulation of money. And they don't exactly hide their political allegiances. They are a true-to-canon, contemporary image of precisely what Einstein discussed over seven decades ago. It’s alarming.
Twitter CEO Elon Musk is the most forefront example of wealth over merit. His hand isn’t in multiple proverbial cookie jars; rather, it's more like a game of whac-a-mole, where his hand is ruthlessly trying to hit the jackpot all over different sectors of society—just for success to slip away as soon as he arrives. His wealth and subsequent societal perception—as we all allow ourselves to be brainwashed by capitalism and treat billionaires like deities—have allowed him to open doors I imagine even he thought were childproofed.
DOGE is not just the name of some meme coin that Musk used his massive influence to convince fans to buy so he could sell, run away with the money, and leave the buyers plotless. It is also a satirical reference to the so-called “Department of Government Efficiency,” a laughable but real agency, representing the growing crossover between private influence and public policy. In real terms, Musk has received increasing political influence, especially under politicians like Donald Trump, who have emboldened figures like him under the guise of “efficiency” and “innovation.”
So, now that his influence and wallet have granted him political visibility in America, let's look at the job he’s done so far—and whether he possesses any political cognisance beyond the far-right, Trumpian talking points he so shamelessly regurgitates.
He claimed to uncover fraud within the Social Security Department. From the looks of things, he supposedly found tens of millions of 150-year-old dead Americans receiving improper payments. So—job well done, Elon? It would be, if not for the fact that experts speaking to ABC News explained nothing could be further from the truth. He was simply misrepresenting the real numbers. In reality, of the 67 million individuals receiving Social Security, only 0.1% are over 100, and improper payments account for just 1% of all distributed funds.
Okay, so politics may not be where his talent lies—but surely a businessman of his reputation has taken X (formerly Twitter) to new, soaring heights? Unfortunately, it seems he overpaid for the company, attempted to back out, and was then forced by the sellers to follow through—leaving him with $13 billion in debt from the outset. Not the most fruitful of beginnings, but certainly a platform as widespread as X has the potential to succeed. And with Musk’s business acumen, starting off sub-zero financially should have been just a hiccup.
Yet once again, the lure of capital gain came before logic. His knee-jerk reaction to cut 75% of X’s staff to address the debt—many of whom handled the platform’s day-to-day maintenance—led to its value plummeting, according to American finance company Fidelity, which owns a stake in X Holdings. It’s evident that neither his political nous nor his business savvy earned him the positions he holds; rather, it is his billionaire status that has afforded him the power to influence both information and policy.
Dr. Bruce Drushel, professor of media and journalism at Miami University, argues this is symptomatic of a much wider cultural problem. “In the United States, we seem to have confused the accumulation of wealth with merit,” he says. “We’ve reached a point where we assume someone who has amassed billions is smart, capable, and trustworthy—when in fact, that money often buys influence and control, not wisdom.”
There is also the case of Rupert Murdoch, who owns such a vast disinformation media corpus across the Western world it’s frightening. And that accusation of disinformation is not baseless—Preston Padden, Ken Solomon, and Bill Reyner, three former high-ranking Fox News executives, have all criticised the network. This is extremely dangerous, and it seems, in some ways, the system has won.
Dominic Ponsford, Editor-in-Chief at Press Gazette, notes that while billionaire-owned media can be damaging, not all billionaire influence is inherently malign. “We have seen a massive shift from traditional media to digital platforms, and that space has been exploited by some for personal gain or political sway,” he said. “But it's important to also ask whether the public service journalism model can survive without patronage—because many advertisers have fled and digital ad revenue has mostly gone to Big Tech.”
Indeed, while some billionaire owners may support journalistic freedom, the very structure of capitalist media still hinges on the decisions of the few. Drushel notes this contradiction: “Even when billionaire owners claim to champion press freedom, their influence is always latent. Editorial independence becomes something that can be given—and just as easily taken away.”
This is not a billionaire smear campaign—regardless of whether that is justified. But highlighting their deficiencies illustrates the power of money in this socio-economic system. Social ownership, especially of media enterprises, is a necessity to diminish the power of private capitalists and would allow for more impartial information to be spread to the masses.
In today’s world, individuals often seek knowledge through more modern means of news, like Musk’s X. Therefore, it is extremely problematic that the owner is someone who has a direct political agenda in relation to Trump—and this has been proven through the copious instances of misinformation on the platform, as well as what’s permitted. Like allowing misinformation maestro Alex Jones to be reinstated or alluding to the Democrats allowing illegal immigrants into the country for votes. Or even removing pro-Palestine supporters due to ‘Hamas affiliation.’
It is no surprise then, that within minutes of accessing the app, the pro-Israel stance taken by Trump and Musk is pushed through hasbara and Islamophobic, anti-immigrant content. What does this lack of critical analysis and diminishing reliance on empirical evidence to form opinions mean for journalism?
Cartoonist Ana Tenales resigned from The Washington Post after her cartoon was rejected due to the critical nature in which it portrayed Washington Post owner, Jeff Bezos (another friend of Trump). Since when did the depth of your pockets, and the breadth and significance of your affiliates, shield you from criticism to this degree?
There is a real threat that, through the sheer percentage of wealth owned by a few narcissistic egos like Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, or Rupert Murdoch, true journalism and the dissemination of real facts backed by evidence could be at its climax—and in some ways, that threat has been realised.
But the consequences of this reality go far beyond just media bias. “If a billionaire has control over the primary channels through which people get their news, their ability to shape discourse is virtually unchecked,” said Drushel. “It’s not just about shaping narratives—they can decide which stories are told, which aren’t, and how we perceive the world.”
This power dynamic doesn’t just warp journalism—it warps democracy. A public increasingly dependent on billionaire-owned platforms for news becomes vulnerable to distortion, to curated truths, and to disinformation disguised as dialogue. And while tech billionaires style themselves as visionaries disrupting legacy systems, many of them are, ironically, reinforcing the oldest trick in the book: controlling the story to control the society.
The answer isn’t simple. Publicly funded journalism, cooperative ownership models, and stronger media literacy education could each play a role in reshaping how information is created, consumed, and contextualised. But without a serious re-evaluation of how much control is too much, especially in media, we risk sleepwalking into an age where objective truth becomes optional, determined not by evidence, but by wealth.
History offers a cautionary tale: In the early 20th century, media mogul William Randolph Hearst wielded his newspaper empire to whip up public sentiment for war with Spain, exaggerating stories to sell papers and shape policy. This "yellow journalism" not only distorted facts but helped push the United States into the Spanish-American War in 1898. It reminds us that concentrated media power can have dangerous consequences—when ownership dictates what people believe, democracy itself is at risk.
As Drushel concludes, “In a world where media can be bought, truth becomes a commodity. And once that happens, the integrity of journalism—and the democracy it supports—starts to unravel.”
Cartoon: Donald Trump and Elon Musk enjoying the fruits of appeasing apartheid
Alfie Robinson