Libel reform needs to keep writers out of court, not make it easier to win once they're there

When Ben Goldacre wrote in the Guardian about a man who claimed to South Africans that "multivitamin treatment is more effective than any toxic AIDS drug" (pdf), he was sued for libel. After fighting in court for 17 months, and spending £535,000 on legal fees, he won the case, and costs were awarded. Three years later, Goldacre has been paid back £365,000. The cost of successfully defending a libel suit – even one over the seemingly open and shut question of whether vitamin pills can cure AIDS – is almost one and a half years of your life and £170,000. Thankfully, the Guardian bankrolled his case. Others aren't so lucky.

The Libel Reform Campaign (a loose coalition comprising Index on Censorship, English PEN and Sense About Science, amongst others) was created to fight for a change to this situation, because Goldacre's story is not the first, nor the worst.

Peter Wilmshurst, a cardiologist, was sued by a manufacturer of a heart implant for casting doubt on its efficacy in a medical conference; his case only ended when the company, NMT, went bust, leaving him unable to claim any costs. Simon Singh was taken to court for pointing out that there is no evidence that chiropractors can treat conditions such as colic by spinal manipulation. That case was dropped by the claimants, with Singh thousands of pounds out of pocket.

It isn't only science writers who face punishment under our overbearing libel laws. The novelist Amanda Craig wrote in yesterday's Telegraph of being threatened for libel by an ex-boyfriend who claimed that a fictional character was a libellous representation of him, based, among other things, on the brand of shoes he wore. The website Legal Beagles was served notice by Schillings LLP for writing and hosting discussions about Retail Loss Prevention, a company which sues alleged shoplifters but has been accused of running a "parallel justice system". David Marshall, the in-house lawyer for consumer affairs magazine Which?, says that "corporations are commonly using libel as a form of reputation management, as they might use a press release". He says that frequently, they are hit with solicitor's letters before negative reviews are even published, threatening action when the lawyers cannot possibly know if the content is libellous.

All these cases, and more, lead to libel reform becoming a cause célèbre. At the LRC's rally yesterday, Brian Cox, Dara Ó Briain and Dave Gorman all spoke passionately of the need for change, and Labour's Robert Flello MP joined with Conservative David Davis and Liberal Democrat Lord McNally to make the point that the aim of libel reform is shared amongst all three parties. And since it made it into the manifestos of all the parties, the coalition is now passing a defamation bill, aimed at fixing the situation.

Unfortunately, the bill is not fit for purpose. The consensus among libel lawyers is that after it is passed, "nothing will change". All of the cases mentioned above would still exist were the bill to pass. Although it improves the situation in some ways, by introducing a protection for peer-reviewed scientific journals, Evan Harris, the former Lib Dem MP, argues that it is actually retrograde in others, especially when it comes to free speech online.

But the biggest single problem is that exemplified by Goldacre's case. If you are sued for libel, it doesn't really matter if you win. The cost of defending a claim is so high – 17 months work and enough cash to buy a small house – that only a fool would open themselves up to that risk. The campaign met yesterday to push, not for a way to win more cases, but for a way to prevent needless court cases occurring at all.

Their proposals include a higher hurdle for corporations to clear before they can sue individuals, as well as a much broader public interest defence, and, crucially, an agreed upon system for restitution outside the courts.

All these points are dearly needed. "Libel is used by rich people in a game of poker to get poor people to go 'all in'," said Dave Gorman. Yet it's even worse than that; if you go all in on a game of poker and win, at least you come out with profit. If you are taken to court for libel, you are going to lose either way.

Worse, because there is no requirement for injured parties to attempt to redress claims out of course, it's not enough to offer retractions or corrections. The only sure-fire way not to end up in court over libel is not to write things that people may sue over at all. "What we haven’t heard about are the tens, hundreds, thousands of cases that didn’t go to court because they were silenced," Gorman points out. "It’s these cases we haven’t heard about that are even more important."

Even some claimants don't like the way the law is now. When Luke Cooper sued the Daily Mail for libel - and won - he would have been happy to settle for £5,000 and an apology, but the all-or-nothing nature of the system meant that the Mail forced him to fight all the way to court, which ended up costing them hundreds of thousands of pounds.

If the defamation bill goes through as it stands, Dara Ó Briain argues that there will have been basically no change from 2009, when a group of supporters organised by David Allen Green first met in the basement of the Penderel's Oak pub in Holborn to discuss Simon Singh's defence. But Lord McNally was having none of it. There is at least one thing which will have changed, he told Ó Briain: they are now meeting in a committee room of the House of Commons. Even if the first attempt wasn't successful, the group will hopefully turn British libel law around.

Updated 11:03 on Friday to correct a reference to the Penderel's Oak meeting.

The Libel Reform Campaign present a petition with 60,000 signatures to Downing Street

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Meet the hot, funny, carefree Cool Mums – the maternal version of the Cool Girl

As new film Bad Moms reveals, what the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy.

I suppose we should all be thankful. Time was when “mum’s night off” came in the form of a KFC value bucket. Now, with the advent of films such as Bad Moms – “from the gratefully married writers of The Hangover” – it looks as though mums are finally getting permission to cut loose and party hard.

This revelation could not come a moment too soon. Fellow mums, you know all those stupid rules we’ve been following? The ones where we think “god, I must do this, or it will ruin my precious child’s life”? Turns out we can say “sod it” and get pissed instead. Jon Lucas and Scott Moore said so.

I saw the trailer for Bad Moms in the cinema with my sons, waiting for Ghostbusters to start. Much as I appreciate a female-led comedy, particularly one that suggests there is virtue in shirking one’s maternal responsibilities, I have to say there was something about it that instantly made me uneasy. It seems the media is still set on making the Mommy Wars happen, pitching what one male reviewer describes as “the condescending harpies that run the PTA” against the nice, sexy mummies who just want to have fun (while also happening to look like Mila Kunis). It’s a set up we’ve seen before and will no doubt see again, and while I’m happy some attention is being paid to the pressures modern mothers are under, I sense that another is being created: the pressure to be a cool mum.

When I say “cool mum” I’m thinking of a maternal version of the cool girl, so brilliantly described in Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl:

“Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot.”

The cool girl isn’t like all the others. She isn’t weighed down by the pressures of femininity. She isn’t bothered about the rules because she knows how stupid they are (or at least, how stupid men think they are). She does what she likes, or at least gives the impression of doing so. No one has to feel guilty around the cool girl. She puts all other women, those uptight little princesses, to shame.

What the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy. The cool mum doesn’t bore everyone by banging on about organic food, sleeping habits or potty training. Neither hyper-controlling nor obsessively off-grid, she’s managed to combine reproducing with remaining a well-balanced person, with interests extending far beyond CBeebies and vaccination pros and cons. She laughs in the face of those anxious mummies ferrying their kids to and from a multitude of different clubs, in between making  cupcakes for the latest bake sale and sitting on the school board. The cool mum doesn’t give a damn about dirty clothes or additives. After all, isn’t the key to happy children a happy mum? Perfection is for narcissists.

It’s great spending time with the cool mum. She doesn’t make you feel guilty about all the unpaid drudgery about which other mothers complain. She’s not one to indulge in passive aggression, expecting gratitude for all those sacrifices that no one even asked her to make. She’s entertaining and funny. Instead of fretting about getting up in time to do the school run, she’ll stay up all night, drinking you under the table. Unlike the molly-coddled offspring of the helicopter mum or the stressed-out kids of the tiger mother, her children are perfectly content and well behaved, precisely because they’ve learned that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Mummy’s a person, too.

It’s amazing, isn’t it, just how well this works out. Just as the cool girl manages to meet all the standards for patriarchal fuckability without ever getting neurotic about diets, the cool mum raises healthy, happy children without ever appearing to be doing any actual motherwork. Because motherwork, like dieting, is dull. The only reason any woman would bother with either of them is out of some misplaced sense of having to compete with other women. But what women don’t realise – despite the best efforts of men such as the Bad Moms writers to educate us on this score – is that the kind of woman who openly obsesses over her children or her looks isn’t worth emulating. On the contrary, she’s a selfish bitch.

For what could be more selfish than revealing to the world that the performance of femininity doesn’t come for free? That our female bodies are not naturally hairless, odourless, fat-free playgrounds? That the love and devotion we give our children – the very care work that keeps them alive – is not something that just happens regardless of whether or not we’ve had to reimagine our entire selves to meet their needs? No one wants to know about the efforts women make to perform the roles which men have decided come naturally to us. It’s not that we’re not still expected to be perfect partners and mothers. It’s not as though someone else is on hand to pick up the slack if we go on strike. It’s just that we’re also required to pretend that our ideals of physical and maternal perfection are not imposed on us by our position in a social hierarchy. On the contrary, they’re meant to be things we’ve dreamed up amongst ourselves, wilfully, if only because each of us is a hyper-competitive, self-centred mean girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong. It would be great if the biggest pressures mothers faced really did come from other mothers. Alas, this really isn’t true. Let’s look, for instance, at the situation in the US, where Bad Moms is set. I have to say, if I were living in a place where a woman could be locked up for drinking alcohol while pregnant, where she could be sentenced to decades behind bars for failing to prevent an abusive partner from harming her child, where she could be penalised in a custody case on account of being a working mother – if I were living there, I’d be more than a little paranoid about fucking up, too. It’s all very well to say “give yourself a break, it’s not as though the motherhood police are out to get you”. Actually, you might find that they are, especially if, unlike Kunis’s character in Bad Moms, you happen to be poor and/or a woman of colour.

Even when the stakes are not so high, there is another reason why mothers are stressed that has nothing to do with pressures of our own making. We are not in need of mindfulness, bubble baths nor even booze (although the latter would be gratefully received). We are stressed because we are raising children in a culture which strictly compartmentalises work, home and leisure. When one “infects” the other – when we miss work due to a child’s illness, or have to absent ourselves to express breastmilk at social gatherings, or end up bringing a toddler along to work events – this is seen as a failure on our part. We have taken on too much. Work is work and life is life, and the two should never meet.

No one ever says “the separation between these different spheres – indeed, the whole notion of work/life balance – is an arbitrary construct. It shouldn’t be down to mothers to maintain these boundaries on behalf of everyone else.” Throughout human history different cultures have combined work and childcare. Yet ours has decreed that when women do so they are foolishly trying to “have it all”, ignoring the fact that no one is offering mothers any other way of raising children while maintaining some degree of financial autonomy. These different spheres ought to be bleeding into one another.  If we are genuinely interested in destroying hierarchies by making boundaries more fluid, these are the kind of boundaries we should be looking at. The problem lies not with identities – good mother, bad mother, yummy mummy, MILF – but with the way in which we understand and carry out our day-to-day tasks.

But work is boring. Far easier to think that nice mothers are held back, not by actual exploitation, but by meanie alpha mummies making up arbitrary, pointless rules. And yes, I’d love to be a bad mummy, one who stands up and says no to all that. Wouldn’t we all? I’d be all for smashing the matriarchy, if that were the actual problem here, but it’s not.

It’s not that mummies aren’t allowing each other to get down and party. God knows, we need it. It’s just that it’s a lot less fun when you know the world will still be counting on you to clear up afterwards.  

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.