Michael Jackson libel case costs Channel 4 £1.7m‎

Michael Jackson’s former bodyguard, Matthew Fiddes, discontinued his libel case against Channel 4 yesterday (21 June). Fiddes, had been arguing that Cutting Edge documentary The Jackson’s Are Coming, which followed Tito and Katherine Jackson moving to Devon, had been dishonestly edited to portray him exploiting the Jacksons and betraying their trust. However, appearing before Justice Tugendhat, Fiddes’s solicitors withdrew his case, admitting publicly that the programme was “not faked”. The total expenses incurred in the action are estimated to be in excess of £3m. Fiddes himself was not present in court, with his lawyer citing heavy traffic for his absence.



Lynn Barber libel judgment

A good week then for Lynn Barber and her employers at the Telegraph, as a libel case brought against the newspaper by author Sarah Thornton was dismissed by Mr Justice Tugendhat.

Legal blogger Jack of Kent draws particular attention to point 89 of the ruling, of which he says: “it appears that the Mr Justice Tugendhat has effectively introduced a substantial harm test for libel.”

I accept [The Telegraph’s] submission that whatever definition of “defamatory” is adopted, it must include a qualification or threshold of seriousness, so as to exclude trivial claims.

The question of seriousness of a libel case is echoed in the part of Lord Lester’s Defamation Bill that deals with proof of substantial damage:

(1) The court must strike out an action for defamation unless the claimant shows that—
(a) the publication of the words or matters complained of has caused substantial harm to the claimant’s reputation; or
(b) it is likely that such harm will be caused to the claimant’s reputation by the publication.

It is certain that a lot of time, money, and pain can be saved if these principles — whether from court rulings or mooted legislation — are properly applied.

But neither principle is yet enshrined as law (though we may hope that Judge Tugendhat’s judgment becomes a point of reference).

Incidentally, it is well worth reading the Telegraph decision, as it provides an excellent overview of the shifting definitions of defamation over the years.

PAST EVENT: Lord Lester Introduces His Defamation Private Members’ Bill, 22 June, Free Word Centre

Lord Lester Introduces His Defamation Private Members’ Bill

 22 June

12.00pm – 2.00pm

Free Word Centre

The Libel Reform Campaign presents Lord Lester to introduce his Defamation Private Members’ Bill at the Free Word Centre. On 27 May, Lord Lester tabled his Private Members’ Bill in the House of Lords. At the event he will introduce his Bill, explain what he seeks to redress and his public interest defence.

Free Word Centre

60 Farringdon Road

London

EC1R 3GA

Testing the Polanski waters

Most of us don’t really know what it means to be censored. When it happens, it’s usually small-scale and irritating: an excised joke about Roman Polanski in an article I wrote for the Times is my most recent vexation. Hardly on a par with being beaten by secret police in the middle of the night, I think we can all agree. And besides, I replaced him with Voldemort (in the joke, not socially), so who’s the real victor here? Not Roman Polanski, that’s for sure. His propensity for litigation didn’t make The Ghost a better film, after all. It merely makes him slightly harder to joke about than most evil wizard the world has ever known. One who, nonetheless, has the grace not to sue when you mention his sexual proclivities in the pages of Vanity Fair, which makes Roman Polanski objectively worse than Voldemort on the issue of free speech. Although Voldemort is a little worse than Polanski on the issue of death curses and scarring children with his wand. Thank you. I’m here all week.

But my point is, I never really mind when a joke or a reference has to be cut at the lawyers’ behest. They have a job to do, and their job is (at least in part) to protect me from getting sued. There are people I’m related to who do less to take care of my interests than lawyers I’ve never met. So well done them.

And the best thing about them asking if I could change a line to keep myself out of court is it proves that I tried. By far the most common story on the subject of comedians and bad-taste jokes is that someone (Jimmy Carr, Frankie Boyle) said something terrible, and everyone should grovel apologies and crawl over broken glass until honour is satisfied. And so the narrative about humour in the UK today is that it over-steps boundaries, takes advantage of the weak and vulnerable, bitch-slaps those who least deserve it.

But actually, the narrative of modern comedy should be almost the opposite of that. Far too often, comedians don’t make a joke — during a radio or TV recording — which they think will be funny. They self-censor, in other words. They do this not to avoid the opprobrium of the Daily Mail, but rather because they assume the joke will never be broadcast.

Last week, Radio 4 broadcast an episode of Heresy, which Marcus Brigstocke, Rev Richard Coles and I had recorded a couple of weeks before. During the recording, Marcus did the most articulate, furious rant about the Old Testament’s God you could hope to hear. Rev Coles responded with an equally articulate and passionate response about the redemptive nature of Jesus Christ. To me (a non-believer with an interest in religion), it was electrifying stuff. In case you’re wondering what I was up to during all this, let me tell you: I was thinking about the construct of gods in religious texts to explain the cruel vagaries of nature — earthquakes, volcanos, famine and the like. To the untrained ear, I concede it sounds a lot like I am sitting listening to my fellow panellists instead of earning my keep. Ah, the untrained ear.

But the whole subject wrapped up that night with an assumption that Marcus’ rant and Rev Coles’ response would never be broadcast. 6.30pm on Radio 4? The very thought that anyone would be allowed to make jokes about God seemed insane. And yet, the producer of the programme and (I guess) the controller of the station broadcast it anyway. A funny, thoughtful, balanced debate about God went out in the comedy slot, because it was good. And that wouldn’t have happened if Marcus weren’t the kind of comic that says what he’s thinking rather than worrying about what might get cut.

So this is why I’m glad that I tested the Polanski waters, even when I had to then re-write the joke: not trying is the thing we should fear. Failing is fine.