Celtic fan media is restless. If the club won’t feed the beast it will feed on them.

Sometimes I think we’re very fortunate, as a football club, that we inhabit such a bereft media landscape. Because if we didn’t, our directors would be hunted—hunted daily—by a press pack ever hungry for news, for quotes, for anything to write about.

A media with teeth. A media with purpose.

The idea of “feeding the beast” comes from the US, from the world of politics. At its heart is the notion that the media is an insatiable monster, and if you don’t throw it scraps of information—if you don’t keep it satiated—it will become feral. It will lash out. It will go digging, whether you want it to or not.

In its current form, our club generates almost no actual news. And because we exist in an environment like Scotland’s, the beast just roots around in the trash and moves on.

In a real media environment, this club would get torn to pieces. Because a hungry press, starved of real stories, would start chasing down the facts whether it suited Celtic or not. The cycle would be brutal—no news from the club, so the press goes hunting, so the club scrambles to regain control. But we don’t live in that world.

We live in a country with a media that invents its own reality. A media that chases clicks and hits, that believes its audience exists to serve it, and not the other way around. That’s not journalism. That’s performance. It’s lazy, toxic, backward, and sensationalist. It’s an industry where facts are optional, and where truth plays second fiddle to engagement.

Take today’s Daily Record headline: “Celtic transfer news as fresh David Strelec claim emerges amid ‘lucrative’ Josh Brownhill offer.”

Click on it, and you quickly realise the Strelec story has nothing to do with Celtic. The Brownhill offer? Well, that doesn’t involve us either.

That’s not a story. That’s two non-stories wrapped together and passed off as transfer coverage. When you finish reading, you’re no closer to knowing what the hell Celtic are doing. That’s the definition of stinking, reeking, honking clickbait journalism. And as bad as that is, we’re lucky it’s not a whole lot worse.

The beast here is too busy consuming itself to do real damage to Celtic. It churns out trash like that instead of doing the job. And our board should be grateful for that. Because if it actually did its job—if it really went looking—there’s plenty of meat to tear into.

Now, I’m not saying the media is innocent.

I’m not saying it doesn’t make mischief, or that it always acts in our best interests. But I am saying that if it decided to dig into what’s actually going on behind the scenes at Celtic Park, it wouldn’t have to dig far.

If it cultivated sources, it would find them. If it wanted to paint a picture of dysfunction and malaise, it would barely have to try too hard. The story is there, just as the stories of similar dysfunction at Ibrox were there, right under their noses.

Let’s talk, for openers, about the 2023 summer transfer window—Mark Lawwell’s little disaster. If the press were serious, they’d start by asking how he got the job in the first place. Who signed off on it? What were his credentials?

They’d ask what he’s doing right now, and whether or not he’s still somewhere on the Celtic payroll. They’d find answers, because I am almost certain there are people who’d be very willing to talk, just not to a fan media outlet.

But that would mean doing actual journalism.

And we know not one of them is capable of that.

Take Scottish football journalism’s King of the Clown Car, Keith Jackson. He’s spent the last few months boasting that he broke the story of the Ibrox takeover. But he didn’t break anything. That was handed to him by Ibrox insiders desperate to change the story after Queen’s Park knocked them out of the cup.

It was a PR stunt. He was used, like a glove puppet.

He didn’t find a story—he was given one.

And now, the brand new Ibrox operation is feeding him scraps, and already has him marked down as one of the handful of Useful Idiots for future reference.

It’s this blog, not a national title, that broke the story of what the Ibrox EGM was really about. It was this blog that exposed the new Articles of Association—the ones that gutted transparency and accountability.

But Ibrox isn’t the only club benefitting from a lazy, disinterested press. So do we. In no other media environment would the CEO of the biggest club in the land be allowed to go four years without ever appearing in front of the press. There would be editorials, columns, constant pressure for answers.

Instead, silence. Complicity. Shrugs.

So, when people accuse us of being too negative, they’re missing the point.

We are the only ones holding this club to account. We are the only ones asking the questions. No one else cares. And part of the reason no one else cares is because it suits them just fine for Celtic to be run this way.

But part of it is just… Scotland. Part of it is that we exist in a media ecosystem that stinks. A culture where journalists chase gossip instead of facts, because there’s an audience for gossip. And that’s easier than doing the job.

Graham Spiers once said the “succulent lamb” was being served on both sides of the city. He was right. It still is. And too many people in both the mainstream and fan media—and they know who they are—believe that having a relationship with the club is essential to doing the job. But they’re wrong.

What matters is professional distance. And you can’t have that if you’re worried about losing access or getting shut out.

I used to be on Celtic’s approved fan media list. I’ll give them this much: there was never a quid pro quo. They never asked me to say anything or spin anything. And I would never have agreed to that. But I also never wanted to become dependent on the club for content. That’s why I limited my involvement. When it was clear how much they viewed us with contempt I ended my participation in that sham entirely.

But here’s the thing. The mainstream media doesn’t need access. They don’t need Celtic’s approval to cover the club. And that’s what makes their failure all the more shameful.

Take Hugh Keevins, who told us earlier this year that Peter Lawwell called him on a Sunday morning to berate him over a story. Keevins didn’t push back. He didn’t write about it the arrogance of that call; he mentioned it in an article as if it was nothing.

He took it. If you’re a journalist, and the club chairman is phoning you up to shout at you, that is the story. That is the scandal. And if you’re not prepared to write it in that light, then maybe you’re not in the right job.

Here’s the irony: Celtic’s refusal to feed the beast, their lack of any coherent communications strategy, their decision to starve the media of information… it hasn’t bought them peace. It’s just brought a different kind of chaos.

Because while the press may have gone soft and lazy, a much hungrier animal has arrived at the dinner table.

Fan media is growing. Fan media is angry. Fan media is hungry.

And when there’s no real news, fan media doesn’t sit quietly. It speculates. And speculation becomes theory. And theories mutate. The club is being fattened for sale. The board wants Ibrox to win the league. The manager is being frozen out.

The paranoia multiplies in silence. That silence does not go unfilled.

People wonder if Rodgers is unhappy. If he’s working his ticket. If he’s being sidelined. Is any of it true? Maybe some of it is. Maybe all of it is, to some extent. We’re listening. We’re watching. We’re asking. That’s what fan media does. We keep our ears to the ground while the press stares at the ceiling.

So no, the club doesn’t get off lightly.

It might think the mainstream media has become docile. But fan media hasn’t. We are as motivated as they are apathetic. As relentless as they are indifferent.

If Celtic don’t like the endless swirl of gossip, if they don’t enjoy the 24/7 scrutiny of bloggers, podcasters and internet sleuths who do not sleep, then they need to start providing answers. Real ones. They need to start producing actual news. Because otherwise, the torrent of speculation will only grow.

Inaction and silence are no longer tenable.

I’ve been doing this for well over a decade and I revere some of my fan media colleagues in the way I used to revere mainstream journalists, and I read every blog. I listen to every show. And I’ve never heard a chorus of doubt and disgust like the one I’m hearing now.

This beast is hungry. And it demands to be fed. And let me tell you this much—a Man City reserve player on loan is not the meal most of us are looking for. Something more substantial is required. Most of all we want to see signs of life, and for this club to recognise its responsibility to the fans instead of trying to pretend we aren’t there.