The tale of Mr Hari and Dr Rose

A false and malicious identity is admitted.

A false and malicious identity is admitted.

A couple of months or so ago, my friend Nick Cohen sent me a draft of a proposed diary piece for the Spectator. It concerned a mysterious figure called "David R". Cohen first described a spat with Johann Hari, and then added:

I thought no more about it until I looked at my entry on Wikipedia. As well as learning that I was a probable alcoholic, a hypocrite and a supporter of Sarah Palin, I noticed that all reviews of my work were missing except Hari's effort. [...]

I put Hari to the back of my mind again until Cristina Odone told me a strange story. She was deputy editor of the New Statesman during Hari's time there, and had the sense to doubt the reliability of his journalism. After she crossed him, vile accusations appeared on her Wikipedia page. She was a 'homophobe' and an 'anti-Semite', the site alleged, and such a disastrous journalist that the Catholic Herald had fired her. Her husband, Edward Lucas, went online to defend her reputation, but 'David r from Meth Productions' tried to stop him.

Mr 'r' gave the same treatment to Francis Wheen, Andrew Roberts and Niall Ferguson after they had spats with Hari. It didn't stop there. Lucas noticed that anonymous editors had inserted Hari's views on a wide range of people and issues into the relevant Wikipedia pages, while Hari himself had a glowing Wikipedia profile -- until the scandal broke, that is -- much of it written by 'David r'. Because Wikipedia lets contributors write anonymously, it cannot tell its readers if 'David r' is Johann Hari, or a fan of Hari's with detailed knowledge of his life, or someone with an interest in promoting his career.

Cohen concluded:

But just as the effect of Hari's phoney interviews was to make it seem that he elicited quotes no other journalist could match, so the effect of Wikipedia is to make him seem one of the essential writers of our times.

In truth he disgraced himself because he was an ambitious man who might have been a good journalist, but yearned to be a great one, and so tried to summon a talent he could never possess by bragging and scheming.

This was astonishing stuff. At this stage I was unaware of "David R" and, whilst I had been mildly critical of Hari's journalism, I generally regarded him as a journalistic hero to those of us who promote liberalism and secularism.

However, one look at the hundreds of Wikipedia edits showed that Hari or someone close to him had been smearing other journalists in an on-going systemic manner for years.

I did not want this to be Hari. In fact, I could not see how Hari would have been malicious and deceitful. After all, this was an established and salaried writer who would not need to do this. He also would always be the first to call out others for bad conduct and duplicity.

On the other hand, the evidence was stark that it was either Hari or someone close to him, and it raised serious issues. It thereby seemed sensible just to see where the evidence would go. However, this in turn would be risky, as Hari was known to use libel threats against those who questioned his integrity. For example, in 2007 he used libel law to have a post taken down (the original is here).

Then I had an idea. Instead of questioning the integrity of Hari, I would do it the other way round. I was confident that "David Rose" (at least anyone with that actual name with the remarkable range of accomplishments, including a doctorate in environmental science) did not exist. He was patently a construct, and one cannot defame a construct. As long as I was careful not to ever publish an allegation that Hari was "David Rose" then I would be fairly safe from any meaningful libel threat. Like the dead, "David Rose" could not sue me.

So I wrote the post "Who is David Rose?".

I did this over at "Jack of Kent" rather than here at the New Statesman for two reasons. First, I could manage the libel risk, including by pre-moderating the comments. Second, there is an established band of blog followers at that site who would share in the investigation. And so it proved: over the course of 140 pre-moderated comments, the elaborate fiction of "David Rose" was dismantled. It also became clear that "David Rose" was not what many of us first thought (and hoped) he was: an over-enthusiastic fan. It was clear it was Hari himself.

And then someone emailed what was (for me) conclusive proof. The metadata of something uploaded by "David Rose" showed that it had been created only seconds before in a social media account which was under the control of Hari. There would simply not have been time for Hari to have supposedly "emailed" the item to his alter ego: it must have been part of the same quick exercise by the same person.

However, by this time, Hari had been suspended. I have no wish to see Hari or anyone sacked (my suggestions of sending him on a journalism course and putting in place measures to make readers confident in his journalism is here). When I offered to provide the conclusive evidence to the Independent, I was told "it would not be needed". So I just held back, to see what the internal investigation would produce.

Yesterday, Hari provided an apology in respect of a range of journalistic failings, and in this he has admitted to having been "David Rose" all along.

Many will now want to "draw a line" and "move on". This is a commendable reaction, but it is unlikely to happen overall - at least in respect of the "David Rose" affair - as the terms of the apology do not really approximate to what was actually done. Something very wrong happened, over a significant amount of time, involving a systemic exercise of malice and dishonesty. I am afraid there may be a lot more to come to light on all this.

However, I am drawing a line and moving on. There is really no pleasure to being involved in this sort of activity, especially against a fellow secularist and liberal, and someone whose writing I still admire. The identity of "David Rose" has now been admitted, and it may well not have been but for the legally-safe "back-to-front" approach adopted in that July post, and for the excellent and selfless work of the commenters on it.

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman.

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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The vitriol aimed at Hillary Clinton shows the fragility of women's half-won freedom

The more I understand about the way the world treats women, the more I feel the terror of it coming for me.

I’m worried about my age. I’m 36. There’s a line between my eyebrows that’s been making itself known for about the last six years. Every time I see a picture of myself, I automatically seek out the crease. One nick of Botox could probably get rid of it. Has my skin lost its smoothness and glow?

My bathroom shelf has gone from “busy” to “cluttered” lately with things designed to plump, purify and resurface. It’s all very pleasant, but there’s something desperate I know at the bottom of it: I don’t want to look my age.

You might think that being a feminist would help when it comes to doing battle with the beauty myth, but I don’t know if it has. The more I understand about the way the world treats women – and especially older women – the more I feel the terror of it coming for me. Look at the reaction to Hillary Clinton’s book. Too soon. Can’t she go quietly. Why won’t she own her mistakes.

Well Bernie Sanders put a book out the week after the presidential election – an election Clinton has said Sanders did not fully back her in –  and no one said “too soon” about that. (Side note: when it comes to not owning mistakes, Sanders’s Our Revolution deserves a category all to itself, being as how the entire thing was written under the erroneous impression that Clinton, not Trump, would be president.) Al Gore parlayed his loss into a ceaseless tour of activism with An Inconvenient Truth, and everyone seems fine with that. John McCain – Christ, everyone loves John McCain now.

But Hillary? Something about Hillary just makes people want to tell her to STFU. As Mrs Merton might have asked: “What is it that repulses you so much about the first female candidate for US president?” Too emotional, too robotic, too radical, too conservative, too feminist, too patriarchal – Hillary has been called all these things, and all it really means is she’s too female.

How many women can dance on the head of pin? None, that’s the point: give them a millimetre of space to stand in and shake your head sadly as one by one they fall off. Oh dear. Not this woman. Maybe the next one.

It’s in that last bit that that confidence racket being worked on women really tells: maybe the next one. And maybe the next one could be you! If you do everything right, condemn all the mistakes of the women before you (and condemn the women themselves too), then maybe you’ll be the one standing tippy-toe on the miniscule territory that women are permitted. I’m angry with the men who engage in Clinton-bashing. With the women, it’s something else. Sadness. Pity, maybe. You think they’ll let it be you. You think you’ve found the Right Kind of Feminism. But you haven’t and you never will, because it doesn’t exist.

Still, who wouldn’t want to be the Right Kind of Feminist when there are so many ready lessons on what happens to the Wrong Kind of Feminist. The wrong kind of feminist, now, is the kind of feminist who thinks men have no right to lease women by the fuck (the “sex worker exclusionary radical feminist”, or SWERF) or the kind of feminist who thinks gender is a repressive social construct (rechristened the “trans exclusionary radical feminist”, or TERF).

Hillary Clinton, who has said that prostitution is “demeaning to women” – because it absolutely is demeaning to treat sexual access to women as a tradeable commodity – got attacked from the left as a SWERF. Her pre-election promises suggest that she would probably have continued the Obama administration’s sloppy reinterpretation of sex discrimination protections as gender identity protections, so not a TERF. Even so, one of the charges against her from those who considered her not radical enough was that she was a “rich, white, cis lady.” Linger over that. Savour its absurdity. Because what it means is: I won’t be excited about a woman presidential candidate who was born female.

This year was the 50th anniversary of the partial decriminalisation of homosexuality, and of the Abortion Act. One of these was met with seasons of celebratory programming; one, barely mentioned at all. (I took part in a radio documentary about “men’s emotional experiences of abortion”, where I made the apparently radical point that abortion is actually something that principally affects women.) No surprise that the landmark benefiting women was the one that got ignored. Because women don’t get to have history.

That urge to shuffle women off the stage – troublesome women, complicated women, brilliant women – means that female achievements are wiped of all significance as soon as they’re made. The second wave was “problematic”, so better not to expose yourself to Dworkin, Raymond, Lorde, Millett, the Combahee River Collective, Firestone or de Beauvoir (except for that one line that everyone misquotes as if it means that sex is of no significance). Call them SWERFs and TERFs and leave the books unread. Hillary Clinton “wasn’t perfect”, so don’t listen to anything she has to say based on her vast and unique experience of government and politics: just deride, deride, deride.

Maybe, if you’re a woman, you’ll be able to deride her hard enough to show you deserve what she didn’t. But you’ll still have feminine obsolescence yawning in your future. Even if you can’t admit it – because, as Katrine Marçal has pointed out in Who Cooked Adam Smith’s Dinner?, our entire economy is predicated on discounting women’s work – you’ll need the politics of women who analysed and understood their situation as women. You’ll still be a woman, like the women who came before us, to whom we owe the impossible debt of our half-won freedom.

In the summer of 2016, a radio interviewer asked me whether women should be grateful to Clinton. At the time, I said no: we should be respectful, but what I wanted was a future where women could take their place in the world for granted. What nonsense. We should be laying down armfuls of flowers for our foremothers every day.

Sarah Ditum is a journalist who writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman and others. Her website is here.