The challenge of libel reform

A draft Libel Reform Bill is imminent.

The government is poised to publish a draft Defamation Reform Bill. It may even be next week. There will then be discussion and consultation, and one hopes it will be the basis of a formal bill to be placed before parliament in the next session.

In a clever move, the Libel Reform Campaign, of which I am a supporter, today publishes an important pamphlet, "What should a defamation bill contain?" (pdf here) By publishing this pamphlet, the campaign is ensuring that there is an independent basis for assessing the content of the draft bill, rather than leaving the immediate assessments of its validity in the hands of Ministry of Justice spin. This pamphlet should be read by anyone with an interest in media law and policy.

Any libel reform will have to meet certain challenges. There is the risk that weakening libel law will allow the tabloids to trash even more the reputations of private individuals caught up in news stories. There is also the need for libel law to be reframed so as to deal with internet publication: most of defamation law was developed when publication and broadcasting were in the hands of a very few individuals.

But the biggest challenge is to ensure that libel law can no longer be used to inhibit the free discussion of matters of public interest, such as the efficacy of medicines and treatments, the behaviour of police officers and other state officials, and the conduct of powerful corporations. The huge support behind the science writer Simon Singh in his two-year battle to defeat a misconceived and illiberal libel claim brought by the now discredited British Chiropractic Association was primarily because of a widespread concern that libel law was being used so as to render certain public debates inefficient. This libel reform movement was not strictly in favour of the "freedom of the press" -- many of those involved in the campaign were as distrustful of mainstream media as they are of libel claimant lawyers -- but instead they sought the freedom of individuals to obtain reliable information on issues of public concern.

Libel reform may still not happen. A draft bill is no guarantee of actual legislation. The Libel Reform Campaign has worked hard for over a year to nudge the government into publishing the draft bill. They are to be congratulated for getting possible reform this far. However, more general participation in the debate following publication of the draft bill will help determine what will happen next. The need for libel reform has not gone away, and the campaign for libel reform needs active and engaged support now more than ever.

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman and a practising media lawyer. His "Jack of Kent" blog became well known for its coverage of the Simon Singh case.

 

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman and author of the Jack of Kent blog.

His legal journalism has included popularising the Simon Singh libel case and discrediting the Julian Assange myths about his extradition case.  His uncovering of the Nightjack email hack by the Times was described as "masterly analysis" by Lord Justice Leveson.

David is also a solicitor and was successful in the "Twitterjoketrial" appeal at the High Court.

(Nothing on this blog constitutes legal advice.)

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“It was like a religious ceremony”: What happened at Big Ben’s final bong?

Both inside and outside Parliament, people gathered to hear the clock’s final midday chime before undergoing repairs.

“It’s just hacks everywhere,” a photographer sighs, jamming his lens through a gap in Parliament’s railings to try and get a closer look.

New Palace Yard, Parliament’s courtyard directly below Big Ben, is filling with amused-looking journalists, waiting for the MPs who have promised to hold a “silent vigil”, heads bowed, to mark Big Ben’s final chime before four years of silence while the tower’s repaired.

About four of them turn up. Two by accident.

It’s five minutes to twelve. Tourists are gathering outside Westminster Tube, as tourists do best. A bigger crowd fills Parliament Square. More people than expected congregate outside, even if it’s the opposite within the Palace. The world and his phone are gazing up at the sad, resigned clock face.


“It’s quite controversial, isn’t it?” one elderly woman in an anorak asks her friend. They shrug and walk off. “Do you know what is this?” an Italian tourist politely asks the tiny press pack, gesturing to the courtyard. No one replies. It’s a good question.

“This is the last time,” says another tourist, elated, Instagram-poised.

“DING DONG DING DONG,” the old bell begins.

Heads down, phones up.


It finishes the on-the-hour tune for the last time, and then gives its much-anticipated resignation statement:

“BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG. BONG.”

Applause, cheers, and even some tears.


But while the silly-seasoned journalists snigger, the crowd is enthusiastic.

“It’s quite emotional,” says David Lear, a 52-year-old carer from Essex, who came up to London today with his work and waited 45 minutes beneath Big Ben to hear it chime.

He feels “very, very sad” that the bell is falling silent, and finds the MPs’ vigil respectful. “I think lots of people feel quite strongly about it. I don’t know why they’re doing it. During the war it carries on, and then they turn it off for a health and safety reason.”

“I don’t know why they can’t have some speakers half way down it and just play the chime,” he adds. “So many tourists come especially to listen to the chime, they gather round here, getting ready for it to go – and they’re going to switch it off. It’s crazy.”

Indeed, most of the surrounding crowd appears to be made up of tourists. “I think that it was gorgeous, because I’ve never heard him,” smiles Cora, an 18-year-old German tourist. “It was a great experience.”

An Australian couple in their sixties called Jane and Gary are visiting London for a week. “It was like a religious ceremony, everybody went quiet,” laughs Gary. “I hope they don’t forget where they put the keys to start it again in four years’ time.”

“When we first got here, the first thing we did was come to see it,” adds Jane, who is also positive about the MPs who turned up to watch. “I think it’s good they showed a bit of respect. Because they don’t usually show much respect, do they?”

And, as MPs mouthing off about Big Ben are challenged on their contrasting reactions to Grenfell, that is precisely the problem with an otherwise innocent show of sentimentality.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.