Rupert Murdoch: a real-life Mr Burns?

Rupert Murdoch has done one thing that enriches modern life – but it does not involve publishing a newspaper. Amid the boa constrictor of shame that has engulfed and engorged his British tabloid the News of the World, let's recognise the most wonderful – and totally incongruous – pearl of his global media empire: The Simpsons.

It makes no apparent sense that Murdoch ever allowed this left-of-centre cartoon to be made by Fox. The reason is presumably that it is popular and a good investment. The bottom line is that when the funniest American family's creator Matt Groening created his science-fiction parody Futurama for Fox, less astronomical ratings led Fox to cancel it, although cult status later won it a reprieve. So it is success and not charity that keeps The Simpsons as such an immortal fixture of Murdoch's TV stations.

There has never been any attempt by the makers to disguise their political views. In a compilation of early highlights, actor Troy McClure revealed that Groening plants hidden rightwing messages in the show. The joke, of course, was that he does the opposite and that its sceptical view of capitalist life is not hidden at all. Springfield, the town where the Simpsons live, is dominated by tycoon Monty Burns, owner of the local nuclear power station. Rapacious, heartless Mr Burns is a caricature tycoon right off a 1930s Monopoly board, yet his wealth constantly interferes with the well-being of Springfield. In his darkest hour he even blots out the town's sunlight.

Is Burns a portrait of Murdoch? Not as such. Rather he is a portrait of the power of money unfettered, which may amount to the same thing. Murdoch himself has appeared on the programme, introducing himself as follows: "I'm Rupert Murdoch, the billionaire tyrant." Groening said he performed the line enthusiastically. But does the fact that The Simpsons is part of his business undermine its radical spirit?

Some would say the radicalism really only belonged to the show's classic early years. In the 1990s, nothing in contemporary pop culture was so brilliant and hilarious. And it was – it is – a Murdoch property. We owe the most widely criticised business empire of the age this much gratitude: it gave us the finest and funniest piece of modern televisual pop art. Murdoch's current travails resemble one of the periodic disasters that hit Mr Burns, such as the time the nuclear power station owner ran for political office and was forced to eat Blinky, the three-eyed fish, live on television. "The old man's finished," say his spin doctors after he spits out the nuclear-mutated fish. "It was over when the fish hit the floor." And they leave as he cries out: "You can't do this to me – I'm Charles Montgomery Murdoch!" Sorry, that should read Burns.