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I’m loath to second guess Rupert Murdoch.

It’s easy to dismiss his recent strop over Google and YouTube as the ramblings of a 78-year-old media mogul woefully out of touch with the digital age.

But this is a man worth billions, one who successfully monetised pay per view football when many doubted it would work and, despite the apparent failure of his $580 MySpace acquisition, he must have a genius long term strategy.

Surely?

He says he is in favour of the micro payments route – online pence removed from your digital purse for reading articles from The Times, The Sun, The News of the World and hundreds of other titles in his empire.

But micro-payments is the model publishers should have introduced 10 years ago, before they gave away all their content for free and began price wars and DVD cover offers which further eroded our loyalty to one print newspaper yet ensured that we had a copy of Where Eagles Dare to stick on while we sleep off our Sunday roast.

Although the music industry was slow and litigious in its response to online file sharing, there are now pay models, such as iTunes, which work to a degree. There will always be piracy.

And that is what Murdoch claims he is dealing with….

Piracy – outright theft of News Corp content.

Except Google isn’t stealing his content, it is aggregating it, sharing it. To read the NOTW’s latest revelation that there is an X Factor crisis I still have to land on a News Corp site, where the publisher can then ask for my payment.

So did we just ‘steal’ that content or direct you to it?

Murdoch may as well ask WH Smith to tell customers not to glance at a print edition of The Sun if they aren’t going to buy it. Google, like the newsagents’ shelf, is the shop window for his product.

Bloggers and Twitter users are potential street sellers, shouting out headlines to an online audience.

Yet Murdoch is still talking about removing News Corp titles from Google AFTER any pay walls are in place.

There seems to be absolutely no logic to that.

Unless being anti-Google as well as anti-BBC is Murdoch having fun and generating global PR to further his long term aim of using new best mate David Cameron (if elected) to slash BBC budgets and push for fresh online regulation to protect his content.

Because for micro-payments to really work, all Murdoch’s rivals need to follow suit, and his online ‘competition’ is hard to define and counteract with new legislation. Google is the key. If he can force it to the table to account for unproven crimes then he can get the biggest online player in a defensive position over regulation.

For instance, Murdoch openly hates the BBC for its ability to launch new digital ventures such as iPlayer and give away its content without the commercial pressures faced by publishers who rely on advertising.

But remove the BBC from the equation and you still have millions of online consumers who will happily take similar free news and gossip to that found in a News Corp title from any number of other sites or blogs. Even proposed ‘paid for’ content from a columnist such as Jeremy Clarkson or a chequebook exclusive will hit someone’s blog soon enough.

And Murdoch knows this. He needs to create a villain in the all powerful Google because the BBC, whatever faults it may have, is still much loved in the UK – kicking it too hard is like repeatedly punching Bruce Forsyth in the face.

David Cameron should be nervous. Murdoch’s sharks are tearing their last pounds of flesh from Gordon Brown and heading his way.

They’ll expect to be fed.

I smell a digital media conspiracy.

And it goes a little something like this.

Buoyed by the web hits created by Sachsgate in 2008, shadowy online content czars representing each of the UK’s main media outlets meet somewhere secret.

On their agenda is just one topic, to discuss how such snowballing scandals can replace the outmoded fallbacks of Princess Diana and Big Brother, which have served their printed front pages so well.

They hatch a plan. It involves a new breed of media consumer they call the Twitterati – crucial for fuelling the scandal – and an idea stolen from America, where partisan commentators such as Glenn Beck have given up on reporting news and decided to become the story, realising that this is quicker than waiting for the next celeb to stumble into their fake outrage trap.

Silently, the Daily Mail’s czar summons Jan Moir.
Despite being a meeting of digital minds there is a low-tech National Lottery draw feel to proceedings and Jan plucks a ball from the modified bingo machine.

It reads ‘Gay Scandal’.

She nods gravely and steps down to make way for The Times’ AA Gill. His face breaks into a grin as he sees ‘Dead Baboon Scandal’ on his.

Next up is The Guardian’s Charlie Brooker. He triumphantly holds up his choice in the light like a Hobbit with a quest. It states ‘Jan Moir Scandal’.

And so it begins.

The digital age of scandal after media scandal.

One columnist implements it, a hashtag is born, another columnist covers it. A bazillion page impressions for everyone later we move on.

To Richard Littlejohn.

Sat in his car outside a pet shop with a lottery ball which simply instructs: ‘Punch a kitten’.

There is a word which describes what the Conservatives are trying to do by linking the UK’s inner city drug problem to cult US TV drama ‘The Wire’.

Verisimilitude.

Apologies. I know it’s unpronounceable and looks like an excuse to use a big word but it describes what shadow home secretary Chris Grayling was attempting to generate when drawing the comparison. It is what any solid campaign needs for credibility and clarity.

But there’s a fine line between verisimilitude and marketing nonsense – for instance, does anyone believe David Beckham would get excited about a pen that isn’t jewel encrusted and only works with ink extracted (sustainably) from a rare squid?

And that’s part of the problem with the Conservatives evoking a cult TV series constantly plugged by The Guardian. It smacks of one too many ‘blue sky’ sessions at Millbank where ‘no idea is a bad one’ and everyone is giddy at the thought of Government. It’s just a little bit too try hard.

Can we expect Gordon Brown to stumble out of Number 10 in a vest, dressing gown and slippers to fetch his paper as he enters what his makeover people call ‘Operation Soprano’. After all, someone paid $11,000 for this.

Love him or hate him (and I’m sure he’s loved by someone) Ryanair boss Michael O’Leary plays the media better than anyone.

He’s the person that gives weight to the old PR myth – and it is a myth – that ‘no publicity is bad publicity’. From making the disabled pay for wheelchairs to his ‘A Pound to Spend a Penny’ idea, he always gets his core message across.

“We are cheap because we give you nothing but a seat.”

Everyone complains about Ryanair. I’ve heard colleagues say they feel ‘dirty’ after booking with them, a quick blog search mostly associates the brand with the phrases ‘scum’ and ‘epic fail’.

But today Ryanair announced its latest expansion – 14 new routes from Leeds Bradford Airport, 63 weekly return flights, an £84 million investment. I’m sure they will be well used, whatever Mr O’Leary’s popularity rating.

He’s the anti PR persona we should all consider when brainstorming new ideas. Pin a picture of his face up and use it for inspiration on how to stick to your message.

Just draw the line at dressing your client like this:

Thanks to North West journalist and blogger David Quinn for the image.

Whole Foods boss John Mackey may yet regret his admission that his stores sell ‘junk’ food but his supposed gaffe is not quite as Ratneresque as it may have appeared.

From an issues management perspective there are crucial differences. He was trying to be honest and outline his belief that his business had strayed from its original principles. Gerald Ratner’s famous words – beloved of media trainers everywhere – exposed his glee at selling ‘crap’ to customers.

So while Ratner’s jewellery chain collapsed under the weight of the media fallout from Gerald’s confession, there has been plenty of debate over Mr Mackey’s position in the ‘Bad PR Hall of Fame’.

At time of writing it is still one of the most viewed stories on The Guardian’s website – surely the newspaper whose readers are most likely to embrace Whole Foods’ renewed ethos – and many readers commenting on the story have praised his honesty.

Nevertheless, I bet his PR company have recommended another session of media training for the notoriously outspoken boss and blogger.