It’s truly a marvel of modern sociology when the only thing more fragile than a politician’s ego is the jaw of the journalist tasked with documenting it. In Malaysia, the latest trend in public relations isn't a glossy brochure or a carefully curated LinkedIn post—it’s the classic, artisanal thud of a fist meeting a face. According to recent reports, a journalist was allegedly assaulted by the chief executive of a government-linked company (GLC) for the unforgivable crime of asking a question. One must admire the economy of the gesture. Why engage in the tedious exercise of spinning a narrative when you can simply spin the reporter’s head? It is the ultimate form of vertical integration: the state owns the company, the company owns the narrative, and the narrative is enforced by the palm of a hand.

This incident, of course, isn't an isolated burst of corporate passion. It comes hot on the heels of another journalist being detained under the Sedition Act—a lovely piece of colonial-era legal architecture that the Malaysian government preserves with the same reverence a museum might show a guillotine. The reporter’s sin in that instance? Asking a ‘sensitive question’ at a public forum. In the dictionary of the modern state, ‘sensitive’ is merely a synonym for ‘accurate.’ To ask a sensitive question is to invite the state to remind you that while the British may have officially departed, their taste for authoritarian legalese remains as crisp and functional as a freshly starched uniform. It’s the political equivalent of keeping your ex-boyfriend’s handcuffs because you realized they actually come in quite handy for your new relationship.

The media groups are currently ‘urging action.’ It’s the kind of performative hope that makes one want to weep into their lukewarm coffee. They are calling upon the government—the very entity that links itself to these companies and enforces these sedition laws—to please, pretty please, stop being so mean to the people pointing out their flaws. It’s like asking a hurricane to be more mindful of the shingles. These media advocacy groups treat the government like a rational actor instead of what it actually is: a collection of fragile narcissists with the power to arrest anyone who forgets to clap. Their statements are like letters to Santa written by orphans who know the chimney is blocked with bureaucratic soot.

Let’s look at the broader picture, though my eyes already hurt from the glare of human stupidity. This is the global zeitgeist. On the Left, we have the performative ‘progressive’ types who would happily ban speech that hurts their feelings, creating a sterilized environment where the only allowed questions are ‘how can we be more like you?’ On the Right, we have the ‘strongmen’ who view a free press as a personal insult, a mosquito to be swatted by the hand of ‘order.’ Malaysia is just being more honest about it. They aren't hiding behind algorithms, shadow-banning, or ‘community guidelines’; they’re using a vintage Sedition Act and a well-timed shove. It’s almost refreshing in its brutality.

The ‘government-linked company’ or GLC is a particularly delicious specimen of this rot. It is the unholy marriage of private sector entitlement and public sector impunity. When you are ‘government-linked,’ you aren't just a boss; you are a minor deity with a taxpayer-funded pension plan. These entities are the parasitic twins of the state, existing in that grey zone where public funds meet private greed. If you ask a question about their finances, you aren't just a reporter; you're a heretic. The alleged assault is merely an extracurricular activity for a CEO who clearly finds the PowerPoint slides of his own mediocrity too boring to discuss and decided that a physical demonstration of power was more efficient.

We live in an era where ‘truth’ is treated as a buffet. You take what you like and you throw the rest at the waiter’s head. The CEO who allegedly assaulted the journalist is just a man of his time—a man who understands that in the hierarchy of power, the one with the microphone is always subordinate to the one with the security detail. The journalist, poor fool, thought his credentials were a shield. In reality, they were just a bullseye. There is no middle ground anymore, only the crushing weight of institutional arrogance and the squeak of the people trying not to get stepped on.

So, what happens next? There will be a ‘sharpened scrutiny of press freedom.’ There will be ‘calls for reform.’ Perhaps a committee will be formed, consisting of several other government-linked individuals, to determine if government-linked individuals are, in fact, the problem. They will conclude that the ‘incident’ was a ‘unfortunate misunderstanding’ or a ‘lapse in professional conduct,’ and everyone will return to the comfortable silence of state-approved narratives. Meanwhile, the Sedition Act will sit in the drawer, oiled and ready for the next time someone asks something ‘sensitive.’ It is the circle of life, if your idea of life is a boot stamping on a human face—forever, but with slightly better catering and a press release that says everything is fine.