The co-evolution of media and politics in Taiwan: Implications for political communications

Over the course of Taiwan’s democratization, in response to the changing media environment brought about by liberalization, commercialization and technological change, politicians, social activists and election candidates have modified the ways in which they attempt to inform, persuade and mobilize citizens. The methods that diverse political actors use to communicate their preferences, delineate their positions relative to their competitors, explain their behaviours and attack their opponents have a substantial effect on the information environment available to voters, the tone of political discourse and political competition. Aside from the behaviour of political actors, the same processes have had a significant effect on all aspects of media production and consumption, and the behaviours and expectations of citizens. This article is an attempt to conceptualise the evolution of political communications from the start of democratization to the present and to assess the implications for public discourse, political participation and the vitality of Taiwan’s democracy. Taiwan is an illuminating case for studying the co-evolution of media and politics. Prior to the rescinding of 38-years of martial law in 1987 Taiwan was a textbook Cold-War anti-Communist dictatorship, with a highly circumscribed civil society, carefully managed

content goes viral and anonymous online discussions descend into abusive partisan trolling (Gainous and Wagner, 2014).
In combination, these dynamics represent a major challenge to political communicators. Governments, parties and politicians have reduced control over what is said about them, by whom, and even the reproduction of their own words (Soroka, 2014: 75). On the other hand, the emergence of social media as a vehicle for unmediated communication has become established as a powerful means to reach voters and citizens directly. Infamously, in the guise of Donald Trump's Tweets, it has enabled attacks on opponents, determination of the media agenda, and is pored over for hints about American economic and foreign policy (Chadwick and Stromer-Galley, 2016). A former reality TV performer, a genre that has similarly exploited the affordances of hybrid media (Hill, 2014), Trump is an acute example of the changing parameters of political communications. While Taiwan has not, as yet, produced a Trump-like communicator (President Tsai Ing-wen's 蔡英文 tweets are a model of decorum in comparison), there is evidence of the "interplay between celebrity culture and the presentational strategies adopted by politicians" (Wood et al, 2016: 581), not least in the rise of former presidents Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) and Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九), and literal rock star Legislator Freddy Lim (Lin Changzuo 林昶佐). The celebritization of politics in Taiwan is not as "advanced" as in many western democracies, but it is likely to intensify as a result of both the incentive structure of the new political communications environment and declining public trust in elected officials and increasing "anti-politics" attitudes. Ko Wen-je's presentational strategy of distancing himself from politics, using various media to construct the distinctive "Ko persona" (Yan and Heng, 2016) while attempting to appear "just like us" (despite his elite status as a famous surgeon) by travelling on public transport and eschewing the political correctness filter of the professional politician is one example.

Major party election campaigning
Elections have played a major role in the consolidation of democracy in Taiwan, in terms of providing opportunities for the transfer of power, issue representation and promoting democratic norms (Chao and Myers, 2000;Lin et al. 1996;Wong, 2003). The confluence of top-down liberalization, grassroots political opposition, social demands and exogeneous shocks led to incremental democratization processes over a period of two decades culminating by the mid-1990s in a competitive multi-party system with elections held for offices from the village and township level up to the Legislature and Presidency (Rigger, 2002;Tien and Chu 1996). Election campaigns have been an integral part and inescapable spectacle in Taiwanese politics for the past three decades (Fell, 2018). These communicative and mobilizational events represent "dynamic struggles between candidates to define the informational context for voters" (Carsey et al., 2007: 269). In contemporary campaigns these "struggles" operate simultaneously over different spheres: "Air wars" denoting television coverage and advertising, the "ground game" to mobilize volunteers and voters, and the use of polling and demographic analytics to target potential donors and increase turnout. Over time, the "struggle" has increasingly moved online into cyberspace. Within the contemporary campaign the interplay of modes of communication creates a cross-fertilizing ecosystem characterised by hybridity. Taiwanese elections are characterised by a mixture of traditional and "post-modern" communication efforts (Sautede and Liddell, 2000), a process of hybridisation "that allows formal institutions and traditional methods to absorb and coexist with new and streamlined techniques of delivering the desired message" (Rawnsley 2003a:

779).
Prior to the launch of the 24-hour news channels in 1994, election campaigning in Taiwan was dominated by traditional practices like flag planting, posters, sound trucks, social events, rallies and hustings (Mattlin, 2004). But when cable news channels gave candidates potential access to voters' living rooms, name and face recognition, notoriety (mingqi 名氣) and personality became increasingly important to both the media and politicians. This focus on candidates (personality rather than policy) was a major driver of the "professionalization" of political communications in Taiwan (Rawnsley, 2003b). For instance, the first televised debates were held ahead of the 1994 Taipei Mayoral election, a campaign that marked the emergence of a more sophisticated type of campaigning led by DPP candidate Chen Shuibian's team of creative consultants. In 2000, Chen's presidential campaign featured a candidate-focused, "soft sell" image-building campaign that privileged his celebrity over the DPP's policy program (Rigger, 2001).
With the advent of cable TV, footage of rallies, motorcades and sound-bites appeared regularly alongside campaign and stump speeches. Large rallies became the major televisual set pieces of the campaign, cast as spectacles with musical interludes, extravagant staging and rousing speeches. More recently, teleprompters, computer-generated graphics and celebrity performing artists have become routine. Parties now invest substantial resources in in-house polling to monitor and test the effectiveness of their messaging and as content to supply to the media. Parties place newspaper ads that look like official polls to increase turnout (Sullivan, 2008) and to "lend the authority of 'news' to the factual claims of the political ad" (Scammel and Langer, 2006: 771). Specialist communication consultants and data professionals are increasingly involved in candidates' campaigns, distancing them from the central party organization. The communication methods used by Taiwanese candidates and parties have multiplied and diversified, and "candidates who can afford it use every platform available" (Rawnsley, 2004: 219). Newer practices adopted in Taiwan have added layers of complexity to campaigns, with substantial repurposing, reinvention and "cross-cultural raids" (Chadwick, 2006: 29). Traditional electioneering practices like street canvassing (saojie 掃街) and community meet-and-greets have been repurposed as multimedia content for candidates' social media. Larger scale campaign events (zaoshi 造勢) are broadcast by candidates and parties directly on video streaming platforms. Formal campaign rallies with "passionate speeches and political stunts taking place in front of huge crowds" (Schafferer 2006: 52) remain part of the traditional and televisual campaign, but as media consumers have increasingly moved online (Su, 2010), rallies now also stream live (to a global audience) on social media. 5 Internet campaigning appeared in Taiwan  to the initial mobilization of students, to the crafting of a self-mediated narrative, to put demands to the Ma government and communicate to the watching world. Digital platforms were used for generating the logistical support needed to sustain the occupation, and to protect the students from potential violent interventions by the authorities. The occupiers selfmediated through a livestream, while collaborative online multimedia workspace and constant social media updates that allowed them to tell their side of the story without refractions by traditional media, of which the occupiers were highly suspicious (Rowen, 2015: 1). In the first few hours after students entered the legislature, a software engineer set up a makeshift broadcasting station with his cell phone, iPad, and a pair of sandals which were used to shore up the tablet, which later evolved into a full-scale intervention by g0v.tw (Lingshi Zhengfu 零時政府 ), a freeware activists' organization founded in 2012. 11 The g0v.tw programmers orchestrated a powerful online platform that not only provided real-time images inside and outside of the occupied legislature, but also helped to coordinate logistical efforts in terms of material donations and distribution of manpower over the duration of the sustained confrontation with the authorities.
One episode during the Sunflower Movement illustrated the power of hybrid media.
Internet activists worried about public opinion and the generational digital divide since they found Taiwan's older citizens were not receiving online information and were thus more likely to be influenced by pro-government TV stations and newspapers. They thus decided to raise funds via online crowdfunding websites to buy advertising space in the major domestic newspapers. Taiwan's first political crowdfunding campaign turned out to be a phenomenal success, amassing NT$6.3 million (US$200,000) from 3,621 donors within three hours, more than four times their planned goal. These contributions funded three waves of local newspaper advertisements plus an additional pamphlet and even a full-page advertisement in the New York Times on March 29. Sunflower participants were thus able to leverage their advantage in digital media to shore up their weakness in traditional media outlets.
Like Occupy Wall Street, the occupied legislative chamber was "a space of conviviality, debate and autonomy" mutually constituted by the merging of hybrid spaceplaces online and in the physical world (Castells, 2011:168), and symbolized by the Island Sunrise anthem recorded by the Taiwanese band Fire Extinguisher (Miehuoqi 滅火器) inside 11 The organization describes itself as "a decentralized civic tech community from Taiwan" that advocates "transparency of information and build[s] tech solutions for citizens to participate in public affairs from the bottom up". Available at: https://g0v.tw/zh-TW/ Ko's campaign was notable for several features. First, he eschewed traditional campaign methods, refusing to produce usually ubiquitous campaign paraphernalia like flags and signs, and foregoing physical-space campaign rallies, a long-time staple of Taiwanese campaigns. Second, his campaign team made digital media the major battleground, marshalling young volunteers, soliciting online donations and crowd-sourcing policy inputs.
Third, Ko's campaign was, in Taiwanese terms, radically transparent. When Lien accused the campaign of financial irregularities, Ko posted complete records online. Fourth, Ko distanced his campaign from big business and stopped fundraising once he reached the stipulated limit-unheard of for Taiwanese candidates. The "Ko-P phenomenon" (Yan and Heng, 2016: 300), 13 based on progressive policies, transparency and grassroots mobilization, applied mobilization techniques characteristic of social movements and generated the kind of organic "Yes, we can" buzz that surrounded Barack Obama's campaign for US President in 2008. In his victory speech and in interview with the author, Ko was unequivocal about the contribution of digital media as the driving force of his campaign.
As Taipei Mayor, Ko has retained a social media team and continued to use digital media to engage Taipei citizens, drive traditional media coverage and frame his governance efforts. And he has retained relatively high levels of public support despite continued faux pas, including remarks that could be interpreted as sexist and racist, and losing the support of the DPP following a series of mixed signals about Taiwanese identity. Despite fluctuations in public opinion polls, Ko's "brand" has so far proven to be surprisingly resilient. With his trademark black trousers, short-sleeve shirt with a pen in the pocket and gold rimmed glasses, Ko's non-descript image (riding the Taipei subway Ko is indistinguishable from a software engineer or middle school teacher) is the essence of "just like us", a presentation strategy used by politicians and celebrities (Kane and Patapan, 2012;Turner, 2013). As a successful social media communicator, Ko and his team produces content for a multiplicity of different media and embraces the likelihood that material may be repurposed by supporters and opponents. He routinely interacts with citizens, streams on Facebook Live and is unafraid of putting himself in embarrassing situations, like filming silly videos with Internet celebrity (wanghong 網紅) Tsai A-ga (Cai Aga 蔡阿嘎), in order to reach youth audiences.

Political communications and generational change
One of the major developments in Taiwanese society, thus-far unexamined in the context of political communications, is generational change. In the cases described above, party efforts to develop online campaigning were primarily driven by the hope of reaching younger voters; largescale social mobilizations since 2008 were organized by young people; and the dynamism of Ko Wen-je's election campaign was in large part generated by the enthusiasm of young volunteers and supporters. A generation gap has emerged in Taiwanese society in terms of national identity, socio-economic opportunities and political attitudes (Le Pesant, 2011;Liu and Li, 2017;Zhang et al, 2005). Common to many societies, a similar generation gap exists in attitudes and usage patterns of newer technologies and the internet (Salkowitz, 2008), not least because young Taiwanese have long exhibited very high levels of internet usage and technological competency (Ishii and Wu, 2006). Media use varies by age cohort, not merely in the type of media consumed, but in the attitudes and expectations that are nurtured by the practices, affordances and norms associated with different media. This has the dual effect of incentivizing political actors to adapt and diversify their methods of communication, and changes users' (i.e. citizens and voters) expectations and behaviours.
The legacy of one party rule and instrumental quasi-Confucian discourses (Chang, 2009: 44-5) did not expire with the coming of elections. Political elites retained their sense, and carefully framed narrative, about knowing what was best for the people. Many, particularly older citizens, conditioned by decades of priming through the media and education systems, continued to have a narrow understanding of what democracy meant, sometimes complaining to pollsters that democracy was too messy, divisive and complicated.
Political scientist Tianjian Shi (2014) argued that many Taiwanese came to understand democracy via the idea of minben (民本), a restricted form of government by benevolent elites that he labelled "guardianship democracy". 14 While survey research shows some older Taiwanese still hold to this idea, younger cohorts that have grown up with norms like freedom of speech, accountability and transparency, have different expectations (Dalton and Shin, 2014). The challenge to the foundations of "guardian democracy" is magnified by the popularization of digital and social media and the norms associated with Taiwan's deeply embedded internet culture, where there is little deference to authority or patience for grandstanding and politicking in the face of the huge socio-economic challenges facing Taiwanese youth. One of Ko's major selling points was his refusal to engage in political theatre and attack politics, along with his "authenticity" and commitment to transparency; positions that were communicated directly through his own digital channels rather than mainstream media. The case of another mode of political communication demonstrates why this resonated.
Once at the cutting edge of political communications in Taiwan and a staple of primetime cable news schedules in the 1990s and early 2000s (Chu, 2004), political call-in shows (kouyingxiu 扣應秀) are now the preserve of older viewers. When Taiwan's media market was liberalized, through deregulation of the newspaper market in 1989 and legalization of Cable TV in 1993, political TV coverage gradually moved away from issueoriented "hard news" to "soft news" and "infotainment" formats with greater mass appeal.
The blurring of news and entertainment, with a significant dose of sensationalism and partisanship, created a hybrid form of "reality" and "performance" (Fell, 2007) manifest in while communicative abundance, democratization of information and constant public scrutiny have the potential to monitor public officials, they can also be corrupted (Keane, 2009). The glut of media content and constant presence of media messages in Taiwan, from always-on TVs and via ubiquitous connected devices, means that Taiwanese daily lives are disrupted by a flow of mediated events where adversarial and sensationalist styles of commercial journalism make politics seem more dishonest than it is and reducing public trust.
Tso (2014) argues that the reduction of distance between politicians and the people through constant mediation and a "permanent battlefield in cyberspace" led to the rapid decline in popularity of Ma Ying-Jeou and Chen Shui-bian. A similar rapid decline in support for Tsai Ing-wen soon after her landslide election victory in 2016 suggests that maintaining support under conditions of permanent scrutiny and the continuous mobilization of low-cost discontent online is difficult. Content hunger, driven by intense commercialization and over-saturation, has eroded the quality of Taiwan's media through advertising-led business models that encourage sensationalism, click-bait and "churnalism." Coverage of politics is obsessed with storylines and scandal, and guilty of producing "pseudo-news" that obfuscates the information environment available to citizens (Davies, 2011;Schudson, 2008). After a hesitant initial response, political actors in Taiwan have worked to re-assert their control of the information environment, often working with established media operations to exploit hybrid media logics.
As co-elites in Taiwanese political culture, parties and the media share the incentive to adapt together to the new conditions, which they have done by slowly colonizing cyberspace and in continuing to influence public opinion through the broadcast and print media. Ultimately, "politicians recognize the power of the media in forming their reputations and, therefore, in making or breaking their political careers" (Rawnsley and Gong, 2011: 330). Keane (2013) describes this "symbiotic relationship" between politicians and producers as a component of