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Racism and racial discrimination is a common experience for many Indigenous people. Recent Australian research found that, depending in which state they lived in, between one in three and one in four Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people mentioned experiencing racial discrimination over the previous two years in a range of areas from abuse in public places to denial of access to goods and services, including employment and housing. This chapter focusses on one particular aspect of racism: the ways in which racialised criminality is both constructed and reproduced in the media, with a focus specifically on racialised criminality and Indigenous peoples in Australia. The chapter takes a broad approach to media and includes mainstream media outlets (both print and television) and other media forms including social media and film. It looks at both non-Indigenous and Indigenous media, the latter being particularly important in understanding Indigenous resistance and challenges to mainstream representations.

Since mass immigration recruitments of the post‐war period, ‘othered’ immigrants to both the UK and Australia have faced ‘mainstream’ cultural expectations to assimilate, and various forms of state management of their integration. Perceived failure or refusal to integrate has historically been constructed as deviant, though in certain policy phases this tendency has been mitigated by cultural pluralism and official multiculturalism. At critical times, hegemonic racialisation of immigrant minorities has entailed their criminalisation, especially that of their young men. In the UK following the ‘Rushdie Affair’ of 1989, and in both Britain and Australia following these states’ involvement in the 1990‐91 Gulf War, the ‘Muslim Other’ was increasingly targeted in cycles of racialised moral panic. This has intensified dramatically since the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the ensuing ‘War on Terror’. The young men of Muslim immigrant communities in both these nations have, over the subsequent period, been the subject of heightened popular and state Islamophobia in relation to: perceived ‘ethnic gangs’; alleged deviant, predatory masculinity including so‐called ‘ethnic gang rape’; and paranoia about Islamist ‘radicalisation’ and its supposed bolstering of terrorism. In this context, the earlier, more genuinely social‐democratic and egalitarian, aspects of state approaches to ‘integration’ have been supplanted, briefly glossed by a rhetoric of ‘social inclusion’, by reversion to increasingly oppressive assimilationist and socially controlling forms of integrationism. This article presents some preliminary findings from fieldwork in Greater Manchester over 2012, showing how mainly British‐born Muslims of immigrant background have experienced these processes.

This chapter explores how the economics of news production, and the news values of the media, align with the interests of politicians in representing riots in Indigenous communities as the product of irrationality, lawlessness, or passive victimhood. This chapter also documents the failure of politicans and journalists to acknowledge the role that Indigenous community anger at deaths in custody, and perceived injustices by the police, have played in these riots and demonstrations.

This chapter has provided a snapshot of the symbolic struggle to define Cabramatta and its communities at a time of moral panic around crime and Australia's relationship to Asia. There is considerable evidence of shifting representations in the light of both community media interventions and professional journalists' interests in telling different stories. Several factors can be seen to influence this shift: a reduction in criminal activity in the area following intensive policing, the passage of time and the news cycle, the wider shift from "Asia" to "Islam" as Australia's "other" and the impact of ongoing community responses to racialised news reporting.

Recent events in a ruling-class boys’ boarding school college in Sydney prompted public discussion about “bullying.” Debate ranged between those seeing an endemic problem to be cured and those who saw minor, unfortunate, and atypical incidents in a system where bullying is under control. It is argued here that such a practice is inherent in ruling-class boys’ education. It is an important part of making ruling-class men. Using life-history methods with available biographical material, the article shows that ruling-class schooling of boys in boarding schools involves “sending away” and initial loneliness, bonding in groups demanding allegiance, attachment to tradition, subjection to hierarchy and progress upward through it, group ridiculing and punishment of sensitiveness and close relationships, severe sanctions against difference, brutal bodily discipline, and inculcating competitive individualism. Brutalization and “hardening” are essential to all these processes and are characteristic of ruling-class masculinity.

This chapter is about what ruling-class men do in their daily lives. How do they invest, pass or spend their time? We are dealing here with the exceptional life conditions and activities of the richest and most powerful men in the world: the richest one to five per cent, whose interests and decisions so widely determine, that is rule, the conditions and activities of the rest of us. A 1996 United Nations Human Development Report identified 358 men whose wealth equals the combined income of 2.3 billion people, forty-five per cent of the world's population. Most such people are, of course, men. It takes a very special masculinity, however, to maintain this rule, and many years of work - of servants and educators and many other people, directed by parents - go into producing this. Here we deal with their daily lives. We begin our discussion of ruling-class men's time, work and leisure with a look at their leisure pursuits. For the amount, choice of and control over their leisure, as much as anything else, marks their daily lives as very different from those of the rest of us. We will then compare these with the patterns to be found daily in their work. We conclude with some more general observations about time in the lives of these men.

The media representations of the terrorist attacks of September 11 in the United States and their aftermath bear strong similarities to the media coverage of ‘Lebanese youth gangs' over the last few years — both rely significantly on the metaphor of war. This paper explores two media narratives about Lebanese youth gangs which draw on this metaphor — the first deploys a simple us/them structure which, like the dominant Western reportage of the terrorist crisis, turns on a form of moral reduction in which the forces of good and evil are relatively clear. The accumulated imagery of Lebanese gangs, drugs, crime, violence and ‘ethnic gang rape’ articulates a dangerous otherness of those of Arabic-speaking background — echoed in the coverage of the terrorist ‘attack on America'. This simple narrative, however, gives way to a second, emerging narrative about Lebanese youth gangs which also relies on the metaphor of war but acknowledges the moral duplicity of both ‘combatants' — registering the culpability of the state and its police service but distancing ‘the ordinary Australian ‘from this culpability. The second narrative, like the first, tries to recuperate a moral innocence for the ‘ordinary Australian’, but in doing so underlines a crisis in Australian multiculturalism.