The government's plan to fund Australian journalism through a levy on digital platforms rests on a sound premise: a healthy democracy depends on reliable information. But this latest attempt - following the shortcomings of the News Media Bargaining Code - is a high-risk move.
The government's plan to fund Australian journalism through a levy on digital platforms rests on a sound premise: a healthy democracy depends on reliable information.
But this latest attempt - following the shortcomings of the News Media Bargaining Code - is a high-risk move.
We live in an era of polluted information with serious consequences for public debate and democratic health. In addition, professional journalism no longer holds the central role it once did in informing citizens or shaping political consensus.
Many Australians, particularly younger people, get their news and information from social media and increasingly from influencers and AI chatbots. ChatGPT alone has almost one billion weekly users globally.
Meanwhile, Australian influencers such as Konrad Benjamin, a former high school teacher breaking down politics for under-30s under the name Punter's Politics, attract millions of likes, often surpassing mainstream outlets.
What is clear is that professional journalism is only one part of today's fragmented information landscape. That landscape is increasingly polluted by misinformation and conspiracy theories that erode trust and weaken democracy. Globally, democracy is backsliding, with measurable decline for 20 consecutive years.
The United States offers a cautionary example of a deeply polarised information environment where falsehoods can spill into political violence. Properly supporting professional journalism is a means to filter extremism and help citizens distinguish fact from fiction.
Most Australians have little confidence in their own abilities to spot misinformation, with 74% reporting they find it difficult. This problem becomes urgent during election campaigns, when political falsehoods could potentially sway votes.
The Albanese government is responding to these threats in acknowledging the importance of journalism with draft legislation for a News Bargaining Incentive (NBI). It is a new scheme designed to fund Australian reporting by requiring digital platforms with revenues above $250 million (explicitly Google, Meta and TikTok) to contribute to a funding pool to be shared with public-interest news providers.
So why is this a high-risk endeavour that may meet the same fate as the NMBC, which saw Meta and, more recently, Google step back from paying for news content?
First, the positives. From the pooled funds it will generate stable funding for journalism even if platforms do not do deals, much needed for regional media and start-ups where funding is critical. In this way it also addresses a criticism of the NMBC, which was skewed to major media players such as News Corp and Nine.
It is also a stronger "stick" than the NMBC, imposing a 2.25% charge on high-revenue platforms unless they secure sufficient agreements with publishers, creating an incentive to negotiate.
But does it go far enough? Some independent media operators fear their outlets could still miss out on making deals under a 25% per-recipient cap that effectively means only four deals with big outlets need be done to be eligible for the offset.
The NBI has stronger leverage than the NMBC, which relied on ministerial designation that was never used. At first, the NMBC appeared successful without it, with Meta and Google signing more than 30 deals worth more than A$200 million. But Canada's Online News Act shows the limits of this model when Canada sought to introduce a similar scheme: Meta removed news from its platforms entirely, avoiding the obligation and exposing its fragility.
The NMBC later weakened as Google became the only major platform doing deals in Australia. The company has recently signalled it will not renew some of these. This shift might help explain the timing of the NBI's re-emergence and the structural shift from competition to tax law to compel platform compliance.
Now for the risks, of which timing is one. The NBI was drafted in 2024 but put on ice when US President Donald Trump voiced strong opposition to digital services taxes, calling them "discriminatory" measures targeting US companies. For some pundits, including Meta, the NBI is effectively a digital services tax.
Trump has previously threatened tariffs against countries pursuing such measures.
Against that backdrop, and given Australia's recent exposure to trade tariffs and Trump's criticisms of Australia over the Iran war, the timing of this renewed announcement is tricky. Meta chief executive Mark Zuckerberg has direct access to Trump, and both Meta and Google have already criticised the NBI.
While traditional media has welcomed the announcement through a signed joint statement, some platform criticisms warrant attention.
Why are multinational digital platforms that also distribute news and with more than $250 million in Australian revenue, such as Apple and LinkedIn, carved out of the scheme? And why is AI, with its rapidly growing user base and reliance on news content to train and refine systems, not included?
The explanations offered so far - that AI will be addressed separately and that Apple and LinkedIn employ editorial teams - are unconvincing.
Then there are system design questions that the consultation period is sure to raise. For example:
This is a live debate that the short three-week consultation period is sure to raise before closing on May 18.
And perhaps the biggest risk of all: backfire. The NBI needs to avoid unintended consequences, such as when news was pulled from Meta's platforms in Canada. The unintended outcome was long-term smaller audiences for professional journalism. Australia cannot risk backfire effects at a time when quality journalism has never been more critical for safeguarding democracy.
TheConversation.com
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