Rupert Murdoch—still kicking at ninety-four, though now more embalmed than alive—closed the latest family cage fight over who gets to steer the Fox propaganda mothership into the next few decades. The result: a $3.3 billion settlement that removed Prudence, Elisabeth, and James Murdoch from the family trust like contestants voted off an island. Each walked away with a consolation prize of about $1.1 billion. Think of it as the world’s most toxic severance package.
The remaining crown jewel? Control of Fox Corp and News Corp until 2050, now consolidated in the hands of Lachlan Murdoch, Rupert’s chosen heir, fresh off his role as the Kendall Roy who actually got the boardroom vote. The others? Out. Rupert? Still chairman emeritus. Because even in semi-retirement, Rupert Murdoch refuses to actually leave the room.
The Billion-Dollar Family Feud
To outsiders, this all looks like “governance clarity.” To anyone with a functioning frontal lobe, it looks like the latest season of Succession, except the writers quit caring about subtlety.
The numbers are obscene. Sixteen point nine million Fox Class B shares. Fourteen point two million News Corp Class B shares. Siblings cashed out like poker players folding a bad hand. The prize wasn’t just wealth—it was control. And Lachlan got the wheel.
Prudence, Elisabeth, James: eliminated from the empire, but not from history. They walk away billionaires, but also irrelevant. Rupert’s daughters Grace and Chloe—teenagers, no less—now folded into a new trust, because why not keep the blood feud alive for the next generation?
This isn’t estate planning. It’s a time bomb.
The Patriarch as Chairman Emeritus
Rupert Murdoch is ninety-four. Ninety-four. Most people at that age are retired from everything but soup. Rupert is still “chairman emeritus,” a title that essentially means: “He’s not really in charge, but we all still pretend he is, or else.”
Like a ghost haunting the boardroom, Rupert’s hand still lingers over the table. Every memo, every meeting, every editorial line has his fingerprints, because the man refuses to stop being Rupert Murdoch. He will outlive his critics simply out of spite.
The Lachlan Ascension
And so the empire passes to Lachlan. Sole voting control. Until 2050.
Investors call this stability. What it really is: the official coronation of a dynasty that long ago realized the most profitable business in America wasn’t oil, wasn’t steel, wasn’t even tech. It was resentment.
Lachlan doesn’t have to innovate. He doesn’t have to expand. All he has to do is keep feeding the outrage machine. Keep Fox News humming. Keep the Wall Street Journal producing op-eds that read like hedge fund manifestos. Keep the New York Post screaming at commuters.
The Murdoch business model is simple: divide, amplify, cash the checks. Lachlan’s job is to make sure nothing interrupts the revenue stream of weaponized grievance.
The Losers’ Consolation Prize
Let’s spare a moment for Prudence, Elisabeth, and James. Each gets $1.1 billion. Enough to buy islands, football clubs, art collections. Enough to never work again. Enough to ruin generations of descendants with bad investments and worse divorces.
And yet—it’s a loss. Because billionaires don’t measure wealth in dollars. They measure it in control. They measure it in who gets to pick up the phone and tell a prime-time anchor what narrative to push.
They lost not just money, but relevance. They were written out of history’s script. Their father essentially looked at them and said, “You’re rich, but you don’t matter.”
The Ghost of James Murdoch
James in particular is the tragic figure. The son who tried to be the moral conscience of the family business, whispering about climate change and accountability, only to be drowned out by the relentless hum of Fox’s culture war machinery.
Now he’s been paid off, shuffled out, irrelevant. The Greek chorus in this play doesn’t sing—they just cash the check and go silent.
The Girls in the Wings
Rupert’s younger daughters, Grace and Chloe, have been folded into a new trust. They are teenagers. They have no say. But they are on the stage now. In a few years, when Lachlan is tired or distracted, they’ll be asked to step into a legacy they didn’t choose.
The Murdoch empire is like a haunted house: every generation gets pulled back in, whether they want it or not.
The Investors’ Spin
Analysts are already spinning this as “governance clarity.” The settlement ends litigation. The structure is clear. Lachlan is the man until 2050.
But governance clarity in this case means: there will be no dissent. No moderating voices. No James Murdoch whispering about ethics. No Elisabeth Murdoch asking about the brand’s legacy. Just Lachlan steering the ship, Rupert looming overhead, and the rest of us bracing for the next storm Fox whips up in the body politic.
The Empire of Resentment
Because make no mistake: Fox is not a media empire. It is an empire of resentment. A factory of rage. A 24-hour loop of grievance, manufactured outrage, and carefully curated misinformation.
The Murdochs discovered long ago that outrage is more addictive than heroin and twice as profitable. That once you hook viewers on fear and anger, you never have to sell them another product. They’ll tune in forever, eyes glazed, veins pumping with cortisol, ready to buy whatever gold scam or testosterone booster the advertisers shove their way.
And now, that empire of resentment is locked in until 2050.
The Political Stakes
Fox News isn’t just television. It’s the Republican Party’s central nervous system. It’s the staging ground for every bad policy idea, every conspiracy theory, every carefully massaged talking point.
When Lachlan Murdoch controls Fox until 2050, he controls the framing of American politics. He controls who gets airtime, who gets villainized, who gets anointed.
We don’t elect politicians anymore. We cast actors in Fox News storylines.
The Succession Joke Writes Itself
Of course, comparisons to HBO’s Succession are inevitable. The real joke? The Murdoch saga makes Succession look tame.
HBO gave us boardroom intrigue, whispered betrayals, high-stakes drama. The Murdochs give us billion-dollar settlements, siblings written out of the will, teenage daughters folded into trusts, and the future of American democracy hanging in the balance.
Logan Roy was a character. Rupert Murdoch is a system.
The Murdoch family ended a court fight with a $3.3 billion payout, the elimination of three heirs, and the coronation of Lachlan as sole ruler of the empire until 2050.
Investors cheered. Analysts nodded. The world shrugged.
But the haunting truth is this: what looks like “governance clarity” for Fox is actually governance captivity for the rest of us. Because the Murdoch empire isn’t just a family squabble. It’s the media bloodstream of American politics. And with Lachlan holding the scalpel, the operation will continue for decades.
We don’t just live in America. We live in Murdoch’s America. And the family feud isn’t over—it’s just the pilot for the next season.