Hugh Grant: tabloid scrutiny is like living under the Stasi

In the wake of his <em>New Statesman</em> scoop, the actor debates privacy and superinjunctions.

Newsnight tackled the issue of privacy and injunctions last night and its panellists included Hugh Grant, Helen Wood (the prostitute in the Rooney case), the journalist Fraser Nelson and the lawyer Charlotte Harris.

"I don't have many strongly held beliefs but I do believe in human rights . . . and a very basic right is the right to privacy," said Grant. "I do think it is a massive scandal . . . that, for a number of years now, our tabloid newspapers have been able to invade privacy without much recourse.

"Some cases [are] for good reason but many of the celebrity exposés are purely for profit, so to me there's no distinction between mugging someone for their wallet and their watch and selling it on the street and mugging them for their privacy and selling it in a newspaper."

Asked by Emily Maitlis how tabloid scrutiny affects his life, Grant said:

It's a bit like living under the Stasi. You never know if there's a long lens in the bushes at the end of my road . . . I've had my phone hacked -- the police have told me that now. They're always looking for anyone you might have been in contact with, any hotel you might have stayed at -- they might go and talk to them, try to pay them off. I'm not a perfect person by any means but it doesn't feel right that, just because you've had a bit of success, in this country one of your most basic human rights is removed.

Grant added that he was "very pleased with this whole injunction business" , as without a steady diet of celebrity kiss'n'tells, tabloids would go out of business. "There's very little journalism done in those papers now," he said. "It's mainly stealing successful people's privacy and selling it."

The Spectator editor (and News of the World columnist) Fraser Nelson then tried to argue that the press was already effectively regulated by the PCC. "You can't say that in a serious voice," chipped in Grant.

Nelson said that his magazine received "lots" of letters from the regulatory body and took them seriously. Grant was unimpressed: "The PCC is the laughing stock of the world. Utterly toothless."

He said that even in "outrageous" cases, such as when the Mirror printed his medical records, "You might get a tiny little thing saying 'Hugh Grant's complaint against the Mirror has been upheld' on page 96."

Charlotte Harris, a lawyer at Mishcon, backed Grant, saying that the PCC weren't effective -- "and weren't interested in phone-hacking". She said that behind almost every tabloid splash was a cash negotiation of what the story was worth.

The former escort Helen Wood then argued that injunctions were unfair because the man involved was protected while she wasn't -- which sounds like an argument for making the system fairer and making injunctions available to those without tens of thousands of pounds to spare, rather than scrapping them.

Afterwards, it was time for round two of Grant v Nelson, with the actor telling the journalist: "If someone came after your privacy . . . and said Fraser Nelson is getting up to all kinds of mischief with this girl who's dressed as a nun and likes to spank him in a nappy . . ."

"That would never get out, that story," interjected Nelson.

"I don't believe that story either," conceded Grant. "But you would take out an injunction to try to stop it."

It's worth watching the programme in full as the debate is a cracker, with Harris explaining the difference between injunctions and superinjunctions, and Grant admitting, "men are naughty" and complaining of the "successive pussy governments" that have refused to tackle the problem.

Before the discussion, there's also the treat of Kelvin MacKenzie intoning this ominous warning: "I have a piece of information which will rather nicely depth-charge a cabinet minister, probably towards the end of next week when I publish it in my column."

Helen Lewis is deputy editor of the New Statesman. She has presented BBC Radio 4’s Week in Westminster and is a regular panellist on BBC1’s Sunday Politics.

Getty
Show Hide image

Labour's establishment suspects a Momentum conspiracy - they're right

Bernie Sanders-style organisers are determined to rewire the party's machine.  

If you wanted to understand the basic dynamics of this year’s Labour leadership contest, Brighton and Hove District Labour Party is a good microcosm. On Saturday 9 July, a day before Angela Eagle was to announce her leadership bid, hundreds of members flooded into its AGM. Despite the room having a capacity of over 250, the meeting had to be held in three batches, with members forming an orderly queue. The result of the massive turnout was clear in political terms – pro-Corbyn candidates won every position on the local executive committee. 

Many in the room hailed the turnout and the result. But others claimed that some in the crowd had engaged in abuse and harassment.The national party decided that, rather than first investigate individuals, it would suspend Brighton and Hove. Add this to the national ban on local meetings and events during the leadership election, and it is easy to see why Labour seems to have an uneasy relationship with mass politics. To put it a less neutral way, the party machine is in a state of open warfare against Corbyn and his supporters.

Brighton and Hove illustrates how local activists have continued to organise – in an even more innovative and effective way than before. On Thursday 21 July, the week following the CLP’s suspension, the local Momentum group organised a mass meeting. More than 200 people showed up, with the mood defiant and pumped up.  Rather than listen to speeches, the room then became a road test for a new "campaign meetup", a more modestly titled version of the "barnstorms" used by the Bernie Sanders campaign. Activists broke up into small groups to discuss the strategy of the campaign and then even smaller groups to organise action on a very local level. By the end of the night, 20 phonebanking sessions had been planned at a branch level over the following week. 

In the past, organising inside the Labour Party was seen as a slightly cloak and dagger affair. When the Labour Party bureaucracy expelled leftwing activists in past decades, many on went further underground, organising in semi-secrecy. Now, Momentum is doing the exact opposite. 

The emphasis of the Corbyn campaign is on making its strategy, volunteer hubs and events listings as open and accessible as possible. Interactive maps will allow local activists to advertise hundreds of events, and then contact people in their area. When they gather to phonebank in they will be using a custom-built web app which will enable tens of thousands of callers to ring hundreds of thousands of numbers, from wherever they are.

As Momentum has learned to its cost, there is a trade-off between a campaign’s openness and its ability to stage manage events. But in the new politics of the Labour party, in which both the numbers of interested people and the capacity to connect with them directly are increasing exponentially, there is simply no contest. In order to win the next general election, Labour will have to master these tactics on a much bigger scale. The leadership election is the road test. 

Even many moderates seem to accept that the days of simply triangulating towards the centre and getting cozy with the Murdoch press are over. Labour needs to reach people and communities directly with an ambitious digital strategy and an army of self-organising activists. It is this kind of mass politics that delivered a "no" vote in Greece’s referendum on the terms of the Eurozone bailout last summer – defying pretty much the whole of the media, business and political establishment. 

The problem for Corbyn's challenger, Owen Smith, is that many of his backers have an open problem with this type of mass politics. Rather than investigate allegations of abuse, they have supported the suspension of CLPs. Rather than seeing the heightened emotions that come with mass mobilisations as side-effects which needs to be controlled, they have sought to joins unconnected acts of harassment, in order to smear Jeremy Corbyn. The MP Ben Bradshaw has even seemed to accuse Momentum of organising a conspiracy to physically attack Labour MPs.

The real conspiracy is much bigger than that. Hundreds of thousands of people are arriving, enthusiastic and determined, into the Labour party. These people, and their ability to convince the communities of which they are a part, threaten Britain’s political equilibrium, both the Conservatives and the Labour establishment. When the greatest hope for Labour becomes your greatest nightmare, you have good call to feel alarmed.