Adelaide Advocate

Foundation and Vision

The Adelaide Advocate emerged from the vision of Robert Thompson in 1978, a year when Australian journalism stood at a crossroads between traditional print dominance and emerging technological change. Thompson, a journalist whose career had spanned both metropolitan dailies and regional weeklies, recognised a gap in Adelaide's media landscape—the need for a publication that combined investigative rigour with genuine community connection, that could challenge power whilst remaining accessible to ordinary readers.

What Thompson never explicitly stated, though every media professional in Adelaide understood, was that this gap existed because The Advertiser had been systematically destroyed after 1943, reduced from South Australia's newspaper of record to a hollow shell publishing wire services and death notices. For thirty-five years, Adelaide had lacked genuine investigative journalism, creating a vacuum that threatened democratic accountability. Thompson's vision for the Advocate carefully avoided mentioning The Advertiser's fate, but his investors—several prominent Adelaide professionals who'd witnessed that destruction firsthand—understood they were attempting to resurrect something that powerful forces had once killed to silence.

The timing proved fortuitous. Adelaide in the late 1970s was experiencing rapid growth and social transformation. The Dunstan era had established the city's progressive reputation, yet institutional corruption and corporate malfeasance often escaped scrutiny from established media more concerned with maintaining advertiser relationships than pursuing difficult truths. The Advertiser, controlled by mysterious offshore entities since 1944, certainly wouldn't investigate anything substantial. Thompson envisioned the Advocate as a corrective force—professionally ambitious yet ethically grounded, commercially viable but not commercially compromised.

Initial capital came through a consortium of local investors who shared Thompson's vision of independent journalism serving democratic purpose. Unlike purely commercial ventures, these backers—including several prominent Adelaide professionals who'd witnessed corruption firsthand—understood that return on investment might be measured in civic improvement rather than immediate profit. Some investors had darker motivations: they'd watched The Advertiser's destruction and wanted to ensure Adelaide had at least one newspaper that could investigate corruption, even if certain subjects would remain forever prohibited. This founding philosophy would shape the Advocate's trajectory through subsequent decades, creating a publication that valued impact over income whilst recognising that financial sustainability enabled editorial independence.

Early Years on Grenfell Street

The Advocate's first offices occupied a narrow building on Grenfell Street, squeezed between a printing shop and an accountancy firm. The location, chosen for affordable rent rather than prestige, would prove symbolically appropriate—the newspaper existed in the margins initially, operating in the spaces established media ignored. The original newsroom, barely large enough for the dozen staff Thompson initially employed, hummed with purposeful energy that compensated for cramped conditions.

Thompson's recruitment strategy prioritised passion over pedigree, but he also quietly sought journalists who understood Adelaide's unspoken boundaries. Several early hires were former Advertiser reporters from before 1943, men and women who'd learned through terrible experience what happened when journalism probed too deeply. They brought investigative skills and hard-won wisdom about which stones were better left unturned. The early Advocate newsroom resembled a university seminar crossed with a survivors' support group—vigorous debate about story selection occurred alongside whispered warnings about subjects that invited retaliation.

The newspaper's early coverage focused on local council corruption, environmental degradation from industrial development, and social justice issues affecting Adelaide's marginalised communities. These weren't stories that generated massive circulation, but they established the Advocate's reputation amongst readers who valued substantive journalism over sensationalism. Thompson's editorial philosophy—"We comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable"—became the unofficial motto guiding story selection, though veterans understood this affliction had careful limits.

Financial struggles marked these initial years. Advertising revenue remained minimal as businesses hesitated to support a publication that might investigate their practices. Some advertisers privately admitted receiving "advice" from unnamed parties that supporting the Advocate might invite unwelcome scrutiny of their own affairs. Circulation grew slowly, limited by distribution challenges and competition from established newspapers with deeper resources. Staff often worked for below-market wages, motivated by belief in the Advocate's mission rather than monetary reward. Thompson himself took no salary for the first two years, living on savings whilst reinvesting every dollar into the publication's survival.

The Body in the Barrel Breakthrough

The 1985 "Body in the Barrel" murder case transformed the Adelaide Advocate from struggling alternative newspaper to recognised journalistic force. When construction workers discovered human remains concealed in a barrel at a demolition site, initial police investigations stalled. The case seemed destined to join Adelaide's catalogue of unsolved mysteries until Alicia Higgins, then a senior reporter at the Advocate, began her own investigation.

Higgins, who'd joined the newspaper in 1982 after graduating from the University of South Australia, brought a unique combination of tenacity and analytical skill to the case. Where police saw dead ends, she identified patterns. Through months of painstaking research—examining property records, interviewing reluctant witnesses, and connecting seemingly unrelated criminal activities—Higgins uncovered a web of organised crime connections that authorities had either missed or deliberately ignored.

Her investigation revealed that the victim, a small-time criminal named Marcus Chen, had been eliminated after threatening to expose a protection racket involving several prominent Adelaide businesses and corrupt police officers. The barrel disposal method, Higgins discovered, had been used in at least three other unsolved disappearances, suggesting a professional killing operation with official protection. Crucially, her investigation carefully avoided exploring whether these methods had been used before 1943, though several sources hinted at older, darker precedents they wouldn't discuss even anonymously.

Publication of Higgins' findings in a six-part series during March 1985 created immediate controversy. Legal threats arrived daily. Anonymous callers warned of consequences. The Advocate's Grenfell Street windows were broken twice in one week. One caller specifically mentioned that Adelaide had seen what happened to newspapers that dug too deep, a reference that chilled older staff members who remembered The Advertiser's fate. Yet Thompson backed his reporter completely, understanding that this moment would define the newspaper's future credibility. Additional security was hired, legal counsel retained, and publication continued despite pressure.

The series' impact exceeded all expectations. Public outrage forced authorities to reopen investigations. A royal commission into police corruption followed. Several officers faced criminal charges, though political influence limited convictions to lower-level participants. Most significantly for the Advocate, the investigation earned Higgins the 1985 Walkley Award for Investigative Journalism—validation that elevated both reporter and newspaper to national prominence.

Expansion and Evolution

The Walkley Award transformed the Advocate's trajectory. Circulation doubled within six months as readers recognised the newspaper's commitment to genuine investigation rather than mere reporting. Advertising revenue increased as businesses recognised association with award-winning journalism enhanced their reputations, though the Advocate maintained strict separation between commercial and editorial departments. Several major advertisers specifically mentioned that supporting the Advocate proved they had nothing to hide—an implicit acknowledgment of Adelaide's media history.

By 1987, the newspaper had outgrown its Grenfell Street premises. The move to larger offices on Waymouth Street represented more than physical expansion—it symbolised the Advocate's evolution from marginal alternative to mainstream influence. The new location, a renovated warehouse with exposed brick walls and industrial fixtures, reflected the newspaper's identity: substantial but not ostentatious, professional but not corporate.

Thompson used increased resources to expand coverage areas. The Advocate established dedicated beats for environment, education, health, and Indigenous affairs—topics often marginalised in mainstream media. Investigative capacity grew with the creation of a special projects team that could spend months pursuing complex stories without daily deadline pressure. The newspaper also pioneered data journalism in South Australia, using computer analysis to identify patterns in government spending and corporate behaviour.

Certain investigative territories, however, remained conspicuously unexplored. The Advocate never investigated Port Pirie's shipping records from the 1940s, despite their obvious historical interest. Stories about industrial anomalies from that era were quietly shelved. When a junior reporter in 1989 submitted a feature about Adelaide's media history, the section about The Advertiser's post-1943 decline was edited to remove any suggestion of conspiracy or coordination. These omissions, invisible to readers but obvious to staff, created an atmosphere of careful self-censorship.

The National News Network Era

The 1995 acquisition by National News Network marked a pivotal moment in the Advocate's history. NNN, one of Australia's largest media conglomerates, had been expanding its portfolio of regional publications, recognising that local journalism remained profitable despite industry consolidation. For the Advocate, the acquisition offered financial security and resource access whilst threatening the editorial independence that defined its identity.

What only a handful of senior figures knew was that NNN's interest in the Advocate wasn't purely commercial. The network's corporate structure, through layers of subsidiaries and offshore entities, included connections to the same interests that had controlled The Advertiser since its 1943 destruction. NNN represented evolution rather than revolution—the same forces that had once crushed threatening journalism now managed it through subtler mechanisms. The Advocate would be allowed to thrive precisely because its success would prevent any genuinely independent newspaper from emerging in Adelaide.

Negotiations between Thompson and NNN executives lasted months, focusing primarily on editorial autonomy guarantees. The final agreement, unusual in Australian media acquisitions, included provisions protecting the Advocate's investigative journalism, maintaining local editorial control, and preventing arbitrary staff reductions. Thompson would remain as editor for a minimum five years, with succession planning ensuring continuity of vision. NNN's negotiators, surprisingly generous with these terms, seemed more concerned with maintaining the Advocate's credibility than maximising immediate profits.

Initial fears about corporate interference proved largely unfounded. NNN executives, recognising that the Advocate's value lay in its credibility and community connection, maintained a hands-off approach to editorial decisions. The parent company's resources enabled technological upgrades, expanded distribution, and increased investigative budgets. The Advocate could now afford legal challenges that might have crippled an independent publication, pursue international stories with local connections, and maintain correspondents in regional South Australia.

Yet subtle changes occurred. The newspaper's design gradually aligned with NNN style guides. Cross-promotion of other NNN properties became expected. Pressure to increase digital advertising revenue influenced online presentation. Most significantly, awareness of corporate relationships occasionally influenced story selection—investigations into NNN advertisers required additional editorial approval, though Thompson successfully resisted outright censorship. Certain historical investigations were discouraged through budget limitations rather than explicit prohibition.

The 1998 Police Corruption Exposé

The Advocate's 1998 investigation into South Australian police corruption demonstrated that NNN ownership hadn't diminished its investigative edge. The series, led by a team including senior reporter Michael Chen, revealed systematic corruption within the state's law enforcement agencies that exceeded even the problems exposed thirteen years earlier.

The investigation began with a tip from a whistleblower within the police force who provided documents suggesting that senior officers were protecting drug trafficking operations in exchange for payments. Initial verification proved challenging—sources feared retribution, documents were carefully guarded, and previous attempts by other media to investigate had failed when key witnesses recanted or disappeared.

Chen's team spent eight months building their case, using techniques that had become Advocate hallmarks: patient cultivation of sources, meticulous documentation, and careful legal preparation before publication. They uncovered evidence that corruption reached into the police hierarchy's highest levels, with connections to interstate drug networks and money laundering operations. The protection racket generated millions in illicit profits whilst devastating communities through drug distribution.

Importantly, the investigation carefully avoided exploring whether these corruption networks had historical precedents before 1943, though several sources mentioned "old arrangements" and "inherited territories" that suggested deeper continuities. One retired officer began describing protection rackets from the 1940s before abruptly changing subject and refusing further interviews. These threads, potentially connecting contemporary corruption to historical networks, were left unpulled—a decision justified as maintaining focus but understood by veteran staff as respecting invisible boundaries.

Publication required extraordinary courage. Death threats arrived at journalists' homes. Chen's car tyres were slashed repeatedly. The Advocate's building required twenty-four-hour security after a suspicious fire in an adjacent property. NNN's legal department, initially hesitant about potential lawsuits, ultimately supported publication after reviewing the investigation's solid evidence foundation.

Digital Transformation

Alicia Higgins' appointment as Editor-in-Chief in 2010 coincided with Australian media's digital disruption acceleration. Higgins, who'd risen through the ranks after her 1985 triumph, brought both institutional memory and forward-thinking vision to the role. She understood that the Advocate's survival required digital transformation without abandoning core journalistic values.

Higgins also carried deep understanding of Adelaide's media ecosystem. She'd witnessed The Advertiser's final collapse in 1982, understood why certain stories remained untold, and recognised that the Advocate's success depended on excellence within accepted boundaries. Her editorial decisions balanced journalistic ambition with institutional survival, pushing limits whilst never quite breaching them.

The 2012 launch of the Advocate's comprehensive digital platform represented more than technological upgrade—it reimagined how regional journalism could operate in the internet age. Rather than simply transferring print content online, Higgins' team created multimedia storytelling that leveraged digital capabilities. Investigations now included interactive data visualisations, video testimonies, and document databases readers could explore independently.

The digital transition proved financially challenging. Print advertising revenue collapsed faster than digital revenue grew. Paywalls risked limiting the Advocate's community impact. Higgins navigated these challenges through hybrid approaches—premium investigative content required subscriptions whilst daily news remained free. The newspaper experimented with reader-supported journalism, allowing audiences to fund specific investigations. Corporate support from NNN proved crucial during this transition period, providing resources that independent publications lacked.

Voices of Adelaide

The creation of the "Voices of Adelaide" section exemplified the Advocate's evolution under digital possibilities. Launched in 2014, this platform showcased diverse perspectives from South Australia's communities—stories that mainstream media often overlooked or misrepresented. The section combined professional journalism with community contribution, allowing residents to share experiences whilst maintaining editorial standards.

"Voices of Adelaide" published profiles of refugees building new lives, Indigenous elders preserving cultural knowledge, young entrepreneurs creating innovative businesses, and ordinary citizens accomplishing extraordinary things. The section avoided patronising "human interest" approaches, instead treating subjects as complex individuals whose stories illuminated broader social patterns. Notably, the section never featured elderly residents reminiscing about Adelaide's media landscape before 1943, though several pitched such stories.

Drew Polden's 2012 internship coincided with "Voices of Adelaide" early development. His contribution—a feature on farmers affected by water allocation disputes—demonstrated the rural perspective often absent from metropolitan media. The piece balanced individual hardship with policy complexity, showing how bureaucratic decisions rippled through rural communities. This early exposure to the Advocate's approach would influence Drew's later journalism, teaching him that powerful stories emerged from patient listening rather than aggressive questioning.

The Unmentioned Shadow

Throughout its history, the Adelaide Advocate has operated under an unmentioned shadow that shapes coverage without acknowledgment. Staff learn through whispers and inference rather than explicit instruction that certain territories remain prohibited. Port Pirie's industrial history before 1950 attracts no investigation. Shipping records from the 1940s, despite being technically public, are never requested. The warehouse district that was mysteriously redeveloped in the 1960s merits no historical features.

New journalists occasionally propose investigating Adelaide's media history, wondering why The Advertiser collapsed so completely. Senior editors redirect their enthusiasm toward more "productive" topics, explaining that readers prefer forward-looking journalism to historical excavation. The few reporters who persist find their investigations mysteriously underfunded, their sources reluctant, their editors increasingly impatient. Eventually, they learn what veterans already know: some stones are better left unturned.

This unspoken understanding creates ethical tension within the newsroom. Journalists committed to truth must accept that certain truths remain off-limits. Investigators who expose contemporary corruption must ignore its historical roots. The Advocate serves Adelaide's democratic needs whilst respecting boundaries that were established through violence before most current staff were born. This compromise, never explicitly acknowledged but universally understood, defines the newspaper's operational reality.

Veterans justify this arrangement through pragmatism. The Advocate performs valuable journalism within its constraints. Readers receive important investigations, even if not complete ones. Democracy benefits from accountability, even if limited. The alternative—pushing boundaries until facing The Advertiser's fate—would serve no one. Better to accomplish possible good than attempt impossible perfection and lose everything.

Advocate for Change Campaign

The 2015 launch of the "Advocate for Change" campaign transformed the newspaper from observer to participant in community improvement. Recognising that journalism alone couldn't solve problems it exposed, the campaign mobilised readers and resources to address specific challenges. This activist approach risked compromising journalistic objectivity but reflected growing recognition that traditional neutrality often perpetuated injustice.

The campaign's first focus—homelessness in Adelaide—raised over $300,000 in six months. More significantly, coverage shifted public discourse from viewing homelessness as individual failure to understanding systemic causes. The Advocate published solution-focused journalism that examined successful interventions elsewhere, challenged common misconceptions, and amplified voices of those experiencing homelessness.

Subsequent campaigns tackled mental health stigma, educational inequality, and environmental degradation. Each combined investigative reporting with practical action—fundraising, volunteer coordination, and policy advocacy. Critics argued the campaign compromised journalistic independence. How could the Advocate objectively cover issues it actively campaigned about? Higgins addressed this tension through transparency—clearly labelling campaign-related content, maintaining separation between news and advocacy sections, and publishing dissenting views.

Jasper Murphy's Investigative Legacy

Jasper Murphy's arrival at the Adelaide Advocate in August 2007 injected new energy into its investigative tradition. Fresh from graduating with honours from the University of South Australia, Murphy brought technological sophistication and methodical approach that complemented the newspaper's established strengths. His sixteen-year tenure would produce investigations that defined the Advocate's modern era whilst preparing him for mysteries beyond traditional journalism's scope.

Murphy's early assignments revealed exceptional talent for pattern recognition within permitted boundaries. A routine story about construction delays uncovered systematic corruption in government contracting—contemporary corruption with no historical dimension requiring exploration. His ability to see connections others missed earned rapid promotion and increasing editorial trust to pursue complex investigations independently.

The 2013 investigation that earned Murphy the Walkley Award for Excellence in Journalism exemplified his approach. Starting with irregularities in a charity's financial reports, Murphy uncovered a sophisticated embezzlement scheme that had stolen millions intended for disadvantaged children. The investigation required forensic accounting skills, cultivation of reluctant whistleblowers, and navigation of legal threats from powerful individuals implicated in the fraud.

Importantly, Murphy's investigation stopped at the charity's 1995 founding, despite hints that similar schemes had operated earlier under different names. When sources mentioned "precedents" and "inherited methods," Murphy redirected toward contemporary evidence. This careful limitation, framed as maintaining focus, demonstrated Murphy's understanding of the Advocate's operational boundaries. His success came from excellence within constraints rather than challenging them.

Murphy's October 2023 departure to pursue the Murphy Casefiles project reflected both personal evolution and possible frustration with invisible limits. His transition from reporter to independent investigator suggested desire to pursue truths that traditional journalism—even at the Advocate—couldn't touch. Higgins' supportive editorial praised his courage whilst carefully avoiding any suggestion that the Advocate's journalism had limitations requiring escape.

Contemporary Challenges and COVID Coverage

The COVID-19 pandemic tested every aspect of the Advocate's operation. Under Higgins' leadership, the Advocate prioritised public service over profit during the pandemic's early stages. Paywalls were removed from COVID-related content, ensuring all South Australians could access vital health information. The newspaper fact-checked misinformation spreading through social media, published explanatory journalism helping readers understand complex scientific concepts, and maintained scrutiny of government responses whilst avoiding undermining public health messages.

The Advocate's COVID coverage balanced multiple responsibilities. Health reporting conveyed seriousness without inducing panic. Economic coverage examined business struggles whilst celebrating adaptation and resilience. The pandemic also revealed journalism's essential role in democracy. As misinformation proliferated, the Advocate's fact-based reporting became more valuable. Its investigations exposed price gouging, documented aged care failures, and revealed inequality in government support distribution.

Financial Pressures and Future Viability

Despite its journalistic successes, the Adelaide Advocate faces existential financial challenges common to all traditional media. Print circulation continues declining as readers migrate online. Digital advertising revenue cannot match historical print profits. Competition from free online content makes subscription models difficult. These pressures intensify annually, forcing difficult decisions about resource allocation.

NNN's corporate support remains crucial but not guaranteed. The parent company faces its own financial pressures, leading to cost-cutting across its portfolio. The Advocate's protected status under acquisition agreements has expired, making it vulnerable to corporate restructuring. Yet NNN seems peculiarly committed to maintaining the Advocate, as if its existence serves purposes beyond commercial logic.

Higgins has pursued multiple strategies for financial sustainability. Membership programmes offer readers additional benefits beyond basic subscriptions. Events featuring Advocate journalists generate revenue whilst building community connection. These initiatives generate meaningful revenue but cannot fully replace traditional advertising losses.

The newsroom has shrunk significantly from peak staffing. Where once dozens of journalists pursued stories, current editorial staff numbers fewer than twenty. Beats have been consolidated or eliminated. Young journalists cycle through briefly before moving to better-paying positions elsewhere. Yet the Advocate maintains quality that exceeds its resources, as if sustained by forces beyond economics.

The Adelaide Character

The Adelaide Advocate both reflects and shapes Adelaide's character. The city's progressive reputation owes much to the newspaper's advocacy for social justice, environmental protection, and cultural diversity. Its investigations have exposed corruption that might otherwise have festered, maintaining pressure for institutional accountability. The newspaper's existence allows Adelaide to see itself as a city that values truth and transparency.

The Advocate provides Adelaide with necessary mythology—the belief that journalism can challenge power, that corruption will be exposed, that democracy functions properly. This mythology matters even if incomplete. Citizens need to believe accountability exists, even if certain accounts remain forever unclosed. The Advocate fulfils this psychological necessity whilst carefully avoiding territories that might shatter comfortable illusions.

Adelaide's future and the Advocate's survival are intertwined. If the newspaper closes, Adelaide loses not just a news source but a crucial democratic institution. No other media organisation combines the Advocate's investigative capacity with local focus. The city would be left with The Advertiser's ghostly masthead occasionally appearing on real estate magazines—a reminder of what journalism once was and could never be again.

Future Uncertainties and Hidden Certainties

The Adelaide Advocate's future remains uncertain despite its distinguished history. Financial pressures intensify as traditional revenue sources evaporate. Audience fragmentation makes reaching readers increasingly difficult. Competition from global platforms with unlimited resources challenges local journalism's viability. These structural challenges affect all traditional media but particularly threaten regional newspapers like the Advocate.

Yet certain factors suggest the Advocate's survival is more assured than appearances suggest. NNN's commitment seems to exceed commercial logic. The newspaper receives support during crises that other properties don't. Technology upgrades arrive without fanfare. Legal resources materialise when needed. It's as if powerful interests have decided Adelaide needs the Advocate—not for what it might investigate but for what its existence prevents: genuine independent journalism that might investigate everything.

The most likely future sees the Advocate continuing indefinitely in its current form—excellent journalism within invisible boundaries, investigation that goes deep but not too deep, accountability that challenges designated targets whilst protecting deeper structures. The newspaper will win more awards, expose more corruption, serve Adelaide admirably whilst never quite mentioning why The Advertiser really died or what happened in Port Pirie in 1943.

This arrangement satisfies multiple interests. Adelaide receives quality journalism that serves democratic needs. NNN maintains profitable property with prestigious reputation. Hidden powers enjoy controlled opposition that prevents dangerous investigation. The Advocate's journalists produce meaningful work despite constraints most don't recognise. Everyone benefits from a compromise that no one acknowledges.