What did the Times know about computer hacking and when?

The Guardian disclosure raises serious questions about the 2009 NightJack case.

In 2009, the Times "outed" an anonymous blogger. It was a strange exercise at the time. A "quality" newspaper devoted its resources to forcing into the public domain the identity of the author of the popular and extremely well-written police blog known as "NightJack". As Paul Waugh and others noted as it happened, it was somewhat weird and unfortunate that a newspaper which should respect anonymity as a condition for providing useful information was exposing an anonymous writer providing useful information.

Not only did the Times seek to expose the blogger, they even went to the High Court to defend an attempt by the blogger to protect his anonymity. In a detailed witness statement of 56 paragraphs and with 56 pages of exhibits, the journalist purported to show how by using considerable investigative skill and amazing detective work he was able to use minute details over several blogposts to piece together the identity of the blogger. Anyone reading this remarkable witness statement gets a sense that the journalist not only deserved his scoop, he also probably deserved a Pulitzer.

This witness statement (which I possess, but will not publish as it contains personal information about the blogger and his family) was impressive enough to change the course of the court case. As the case report states clearly at paragraph 3:

It was asserted in the Claimant's skeleton [argument - the summary of the claim] for the hearing of 28 May that his identity had been disclosed to The Times in breach of confidence. By the time the matter came before me, on the other hand, Mr Tomlinson [the blogger's barrister] was prepared to proceed on the basis that the evidence relied upon from Mr Patrick Foster, the relevant journalist, was correct; that is to say, that he had been able to arrive at the identification by a process of deduction and detective work, mainly using information available on the Internet.

The concession by the blogger's barrister was in my view determinative of the case. If there was no breach of confidence -- or no wrongful act of any kind in obtaining the information -- then there was really no inherent privacy which the blogger to assert. There was no need therefore for the judge Sir David Eady to see whether the interference with the privacy right was proportionate or lawful; there was no privacy right to begin with. And, as Eady said, blogging is essentially a public activity.

However, witness statements and exhibits do not come about easily. There is considerable input by lawyers. The decision to fight the case would also not have been made by the journalist in question, but by his senior managers. High Court litigation is uncertain and expensive. The decision to fight the case would not have been made lightly. And key to the advice given to senior managers and the decision they made would have been that witness statement. It would have been their decision to put this evidence before a High Court judge, and not that of the journalist.

The decision looked like it paid off. They won, and the Times duly ran the exclusive. Times columnists assured us ponderously that something rather splendid had been done in the public interest. And, in the meantime, the blogger pulled his blog and faced disciplinary action from his employer. The loss of the blog was particularly unfortunate, as it robbed the public of a brilliant insight into the daily lives of police officers written by perhaps the best writer the blogging medium has ever produced.

In my view, there was always something not quite right about what the Times did. The explanation offered smacked to me of being retrospectively compiled and reverse engineered, as if someone had solved a maze by starting at the centre and then worked outwards. I do not know if this was or was not the case. Soon it was clear that these doubts were shared. Just as "everyone" in Fleet Street knew that there was something not quite right about Johann Hari's journalism or the tabloids' use of mobile telephony, it was widely held that something about the exposure of NightJack did not stack up.

But even when it became known that the journalist in question had been disciplined as an undergraduate for hacking into his university computer network (but was still hired by News International anyway), that could not take anything away from the evidence sworn and put before the High Court. The managers and lawyers at Times Newspapers Limited has confidently assured the High Court that their young reporter had single-handedly pulled a journalistic feat comparable to what took over a hundred commenters at Jack of Kent to do for "David Rose".

And so nothing happened, until last week.

Lord Justice Leveson's inquiry team sent out questionnaires to all the newspapers. One of the standard questions was about computer hacking. This clearly caused a bit of an issue for the Times. Over four witness statements the Times admitted the following facts: that there had been a computer hacking incident in 2009 by a male reporter; the computer hacking was in the form of unauthorised access to an email account; a disciplinary process had been commenced after concerns from the newsroom; the reporter admitted the unauthorised access during that disciplinary process; it was held that there was no public interest in the attempted hacking; the incident was held to be "professional misconduct" and the reporter was disciplined; and the reporter is no longer with the business having been dismissed on an unrelated matter.

What was most striking about all this was the date: 2009. Was it possible that the computer hacking was in respect of the exposure of NightJack? This would be a serious matter, for not only would it raise issues under the Computer Misuse Act, it may be that there had been perjury in the case at the High Court. Had computer hacking been admitted to the court then there would have been little doubt that it would have affected the outcome of the case.

So a careful process was commenced. I blogged here yesterday putting together what the witness statements told us whist Paul Waugh at Politics Home made connections between the new evidence and the NightJack case, about which he had previously written. Tom Watson MP, the blogger Old Holborn, and others, asked questions on Twitter. But what was missing was a firm connection: there was no direct link between the new evidence and the NightJack case. It may not have been the same journalist, and it may not have had anything to do with a published story. I sent an email query to the Times (it remains unanswered).

And then, last night, the Guardian stated that the 2009 incident was in respect of NightJack. So, instead of answering a formal email request or properly disclosing it to the Leveson inquiry, a "source" leaked it to David Leigh of the Guardian. This was an odd move, not least because the journalist in question now writes regularly for the Guardian on media matters. (Yes, that irony is indeed correct: the Guardian uses a media correspondent with a record of computer hacking.)

One cannot be certain that the Guardian is correct without further evidence or an open admission. But if it is right, then this opens up some extremely serious questions for the Times. At some point in 2009 the internal managers and lawyers at the Times became aware that the High Court had proceeded on a flawed basis in dealing with the NightJack injunction. This information may have come out before the court hearing or afterwards. They would also have become aware that a major exclusive had been based at least in part on computer hacking. If the Guardian revelation is sound, then it would appear that the Times needs to explain who knew what and when, and why nothing has been done about it until Lord Justice Leveson's questionnaire.

In all this, one should not blame the journalist too much (and you may notice he has not been named in this post other than in the quotation from the case report). He did what one suspects many young and ambitious journalists would do if they could get away with it. The real failure here would appear to be -- as with Hari at the Independent -- one made by managers at the Times, and perhaps those who advise them. If the Times did throw its financial and legal might behind a story which they knew to be based on computer hacking and did not inform the court -- or found out later, and still told no one about it -- then that, in my view, would be a scandal perhaps comparable to the tabloids' abuse of phone hacking.

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

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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UnHerd's rejection of the new isn't as groundbreaking as it seems to think

Tim Montgomerie's new venture has some promise, but it's trying to solve an old problem.

Information overload is oft-cited as one of the main drawbacks of the modern age. There is simply too much to take in, especially when it comes to news. Hourly radio bulletins, rolling news channels and the constant stream of updates available from the internet – there is just more than any one person can consume. 

Luckily Tim Montgomerie, the founder of ConservativeHome and former Times comment editor, is here to help. Montgomerie is launching UnHerd, a new media venture that promises to pull back and focus on "the important things rather than the latest things". 

According to Montgomerie the site has a "package of investment", at least some of which comes from Paul Marshall. He is co-founder of one of Europe's largest hedge funds, Marshall Wace, formerly a longstanding Lib Dem, and also one of the main backers and chair of Ark Schools, an academy chain. The money behind the project is on display in UnHerd's swish (if slightly overwhelming) site, Google ads promoting the homepage, and article commissions worth up to $5,000. The selection of articles at launch includes an entertaining piece by Lionel Shriver on being a "news-aholic", though currently most of the bylines belong to Montgomerie himself. 

Guidelines for contributors, also meant to reflect the site's "values", contain some sensible advice. This includes breaking down ideas into bullet points, thinking about who is likely to read and promote articles, and footnoting facts. 

The guidelines also suggest focusing on what people will "still want to read in six, 12 or 24 months" and that will "be of interest to someone in Cincinnati or Perth as well as Vancouver or St Petersburg and Cape Town and Edinburgh" – though it's not quite clear how one of Montgomerie's early contributions, a defence of George Osborne's editorship of the Evening Standard, quite fits that global criteria. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the full page comment piece Montgomerie got in Osborne's paper to bemoan the deficiencies of modern media on the day UnHerd launched. 

UnHerd's mascot  – a cow – has also created some confusion, compounded by another line in the writing tips describing it as "a cow, who like our target readers, tends to avoid herds and behave in unmissable ways as a result". At least Montgomerie only picked the second-most famous poster animal for herding behaviour. It could have been a sheep. In any case, the line has since disappeared from the post – suggesting the zoological inadequacy of the metaphor may have been recognised. 

There is one way in which UnHerd perfectly embodies its stated aim of avoiding the new – the idea that we need to address the frenetic nature of modern news has been around for years.

"Slow news" – a more considered approach to what's going on in the world that takes in the bigger picture – has been talked about since at least the beginning of this decade.

In fact, it's been around so long that it has become positively mainstream. That pusher of rolling coverage the BBC has been talking about using slow news to counteract fake news, and Montgomerie's old employers, the Times decided last year to move to publishing digital editions at set points during the day, rather than constantly updating as stories break. Even the Guardian – which has most enthusiastically embraced the crack-cocaine of rolling web coverage, the live blog – also publishes regular long reads taking a deep dive into a weighty subject. 

UnHerd may well find an audience particularly attuned to its approach and values. It intends to introduce paid services – an especially good idea given the perverse incentives to chase traffic that come with relying on digital advertising. The ethos it is pitching may well help persuade people to pay, and I don't doubt Montgomerie will be able to find good writers who will deal with big ideas in interesting ways. 

But the idea UnHerd is offering a groundbreaking solution to information overload is faintly ludicrous. There are plenty of ways for people to disengage from the news cycle – and plenty of sources of information and good writing that allow people to do it while staying informed. It's just that given so many opportunities to stay up to date with what has just happened, few people decide they would rather not know.