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Lord Justice Leveson has been dealt a bad hand. On Thursday he’ll fulfil his task of recommending a new regulatory system for the British press — that vague bunch whose boundaries and levels of entry shift with each technological innovation.
It’s possible Sir Brian’s report will have a brief life in the age of the internet: A world where we are all publishers, where citizen journalists and reporters on national papers curate and cover the same stories, where traditional models of journalism are chipped away. But Leveson is determined to recommend something that works for the public, the public who were disgusted (rightly so) at the phone hacking scandal.
So what’s on the table? The industry and the newly-formed Free Speech Network is flying the flag for improved self-regulation. Index has called for a model of tough, independent regulation free from government interference. Campaign group Hacked Off is pushing for statutory underpinning of a new independent regulator, a model the National Union of Journalists and several Tory MPs and peers defended earlier this month.
Hacked Off and its camp argue that only a dab of statute is needed for the press to get its house in order and serve the public. A new regulator would be created by parliamentary statute, but would not play a role in day-to-day operations, sitting instead at arm’s length from Westminster.
But would statute even keep up with the pace of change in the digital age? Would we see statutory definitions of privacy and the public interest as well?
Either this country has a press entirely free from government interference, or it doesn’t, quoting the Spectator’s Fraser Nelson. A new regulator might not play a part in daily operations, but, as Nelson writes, “as soon as the device of political control is created, it can be ratcheted up later.”
It is now our country’s journalists who risk paying the price for the actions not only of a few reporters but also of power-seeking politicians and police. Ordinary journalists who are, let’s not forget, already hemmed in by England’s chilling libel laws and the plethora of other criminal legislation, several areas of which do not carry a public interest defence for reporters.
And, to muddy the waters a little more, we are all journalists now, to use author Nick Cohen’s words. That’s why the hand Leveson’s been dealt is a tough one: his recommendations may not just affect the press, they could affect all of us who blog, tweet our views or share our sentiments on Facebook.
Those of us who obsess about press freedom might well have concerns about bringing statute into the game. And why shouldn’t we? Hard-won freedoms that are chipped away at, however well-intentioned, can be hard to replace.
Marta Cooper is an editorial researcher at Index on Censorship. She tweets at @martaruco
This article was originally published in The New Statesman
Between the Leveson Inquiry and the crisis at the BBC, it seems journalism is all we ever read or hear about these days.
These crises are heightened because journalists are, essentially, gossips who like talking about journalists. In this, we’re no different from people in any other line of work: programmers talk about other people’s code, plumbers slag rivals’ work – it’s human.
Note I wrote “line of work” rather than profession. That’s because it is very, very important to remember that journalism is not and cannot ever be a profession.
This is at the very heart of the debate over what Lord Justice Leveson should conclude from his findings when he reports in the coming weeks. Can you legally force journalists to behave in a certain way without damaging free expression?
Some point to regulatory bodies such as the Law Society or the General Medical Council, and say that regulation does not affect those professions. But think. One can strike off a doctor or a lawyer – how does one strike off a journalist? Sure, you can sack her, but what if she starts a blog? Starts making phone calls? Starts covering stories?
How do you stop people doing journalism? The old distinction will become ever more blurred as we all now carry publishing apparatus in our pocket. Journalists in the traditional sense had desks, telephones, expense accounts and bad habits. But most importantly, access to a printing press and means of distribution. A decent smartphone carries all this in one (apart from the expenses and habits).
Journalism is one way in which people can exercise their right to free expression, and the danger with statutory regulation is that one can actually create separate levels of access to a right – giving the journalist less of a right to free expression than anyone else. That’s not how rights work.
Some will point out that there are many “statutes” that apply to journalists, and this is true, but these statutes – contempt, libel etc, do not apply just to journalists – they are universal.
Creating a new law governing the press compromises that universality.
Many point to the “Irish model” as an example of statutory underpinning. But this is not entirely correct. The Press Council of Ireland was already established before it was recognised in statute, and then only with membership as a mitigating factor in a libel defence. It was not established by statute. (Bear in mind, by the way, Leveson watchers, that it took five years of negotiation to set up the Irish Press Council. This may go on for some time.)
Meanwhile, Germany (in terms of market size, possibly a better example for the UK) does not even permit specific laws on the press.
A press regulator cannot carry legal compulsion. Politicians already try their hardest to influence newspapers, and allowing them to create statute that will rule over the press will almost inevitably prove too tempting for a parliamentarians fed up of their eternal role as lamposts to the press’s dogs (as HL Mencken had it). Statute specifically dealing with the press will hurt free speech, no matter how much its advocates say it won’t.
Padraig Reidy is news editor at Index on Censorship
Cross-posted at Bright Blue
The political hue of a government by no means tells you where it will stand on defending freedom of expression when the chips are down. The signals from Cameron and his team so far are mixed but by the end of 2012, judgements good or bad are likely to start rolling in. A whole mixture of issues, laws, domestic statements and foreign policy stances add up to a picture of whether a government is promoting, defending or limiting freedom of expression – free speech, a free press, freedom to receive and share information online and off. So why is autumn 2012 likely to be so critical in telling us if the government is standing up for one of our most fundamental rights in a democracy?
Three particular issues are on the agenda this autumn, crucial to whether the UK can stand proud in the world as a democracy where free speech thrives: the defamation reform bill, the communications data bill, and the report from the Leveson Inquiry. The rough state of play on these goes as follows: defamation report bill — very welcome but some critical gaps need plugging at committee stage this month; communications data bill — very unwelcome, risks the UK being the pariah of the democratic world in digital surveillance; government response to the Leveson Inquiry — all to play for. If all of these go in the right direction, there will be reason for celebration and plaudits for Cameron indeed. If the three go in different directions, the government may well end up looking confused on freedom of expression. If they go in the wrong direction, criticism is likely to come in from around the world.
Index has been campaigning for three years (with its partners English Pen and Sense about Science) for a reform of England’s libel laws for the last three years. And it was a huge step forward to have the defamation reform bill in the Queen’s speech this May – the bill is likely to complete its path through parliament by the end of the year. In its current form, there is much that is positive — major steps have been taken to tackle libel tourism, so that nationals of other countries no longer use the English courts on the excuse of a small even negligible extent of publication in the UK, just to benefit from the complainant-bias in the existing law. But some of the most notorious cases of libel in recent years — such as those of Simon Singh or Ben Goldacre, both dragged expensively and at length through the courts (even though ultimately cleared) for debating and challenging scientific and medical practices – could still occur. The defamation bill crucially needs a proper public interest defence to be added at committee stage — so that open, reasonable debate can take place without the chill of possible expensive libel suits. Without it, a major opportunity to bring English libel law firmly into the 21st century will have been missed.
The Comms Data Bill – aptly labelled a ‘snooper’s charter’ by the press – has no saving graces. The Bill would lead to collection and filtering of data across the entire British population – emails, mobile and landline calls, websites visited, the list goes on. Monitoring and surveillance of this kind impacts directly both on the right to privacy and on the right to freedom of expression. No other democracy is proposing such an extensive approach to data collection – and it is the kind of approach that would normally be associated with regimes such as Iran and China, who will certainly be watching whether the Bill goes through with interest. If it does, it will be very difficult for Cameron or Hague to tell Iran, China, Russia and others that they must allow and respect internet freedoms when they will no longer be doing so at home. The report stage of the Bill is expected to conclude in November – the committee has an opportunity then to call for the withdrawal of the Bill, and the government should do so.
Then there is Leveson — expected to report in mid-November. It is too soon to say exactly what Lord Leveson will propose, or how Cameron will respond. But many are speculating that Leveson will recommend introducing a so-called ‘light’ form of statutory regulation of the press — through a statute that would go to parliament determining what an ‘independent’ regulator should look like. If so, this would be the thin end of the wedge — introducing government control over how the press can behave — a development which would risk taking the UK in the direction of Hungary with its increased state intervention in the media. Tougher, more effective independent regulation of the British press is surely the direction of travel. But if Leveson goes down the statutory route, Cameron needs to stand up for the basic principles of press freedom — journalists cannot hold government (and opposition) to account if government in the end determines how the press is controlled.
Three crucial choices face the government in the next two months — by December, we hope Index will be applauding Cameron on all three fronts. If not, it will be a sad moment for freedom of expression in the UK.
Kirsty Hughes is Chief Executive of Index on Censorship
The future of the British press lies in the hands of Lord Justice Leveson. Marta Cooper reports