Gay marriage and church politics

Who speaks for the Church of England?

Few will be surprised, though many will be disappointed, that the Church of England has come out vehemently against the government's proposals to allow same-sex marriage.  

The document released by the Church today claims that its opposition to the measure does not prejudge "continuing theological and ethical debate" within the institution over the status of same-sex relationships. However, in language very similar to that employed by the Catholic bishops earlier this year, the text stresses the importance of traditional marriage for the common good of society, argues that "complementarity" of the sexes (and the goal of procreation) undergirds it and takes the view that characterises the proposal as a "fundamental redefinition" of marriage.  

The first thing to note is that this official statement does not reflect the view of "the Church of England" because the Church of England, as such, does not have a view.  The statement has not been voted on by the General Synod or even offered to the Synod for comment.  It implies a unity of opinion among Anglican Christians that simply does not exist.  A majority of British Christians in fact support equal rights for gay people. The manner in which it was released is also quite striking.  The statement was, however, heavily trailed by a number of newspapers sympathetic to its general line, accompanied by comments, some off the record, by its authors. One of them took advantage of anonymity to describe the proposals as "shallow" and "half-baked".  On the record, the Bishop of Leicester warned in slightly more measured tones of "a situation in which civil law and canon law are at odds".

An accompanying press release claimed that the Church of England "has supported the removal of previous legal and material inequities between heterosexual and same-sex partnerships".  This is simply not true.  When civil partnerships were being introduced in 2004, six bishops voted against the proposal in the House of Lords, with only one (the then bishop of Oxford) voting in favour.  Conservative voices in the church made the same arguments - and raised much the same apocalyptic fears - then against civil partnerships as they are making now against equalising marriage.

Taken together, then, the statement and the accompanying media blitz are as much a part of internal church politics as they are an attempt to raise actual problems with the proposed legislation.  

Nevertheless, the document is worth considering on its own merits.  The most interesting sections are those that concern the legal implications of the change.  The authors are right, I think, to suggest that it is doubtful that the continuation of same-sex only civil partnership would be legally sustainable.  Indeed, the refusal to allow heterosexual couples the option of having a civil partnership instead of a marriage is for me the single most objectionable (and irrational) part of the government's proposals.  The C of E statement is also right to point out the illogicality of allowing religious premises to host civil partnership ceremonies while forbidding them from conducting same-sex marriages even when they wish to do so.  

Much attention today has focused on the possible implications of same-sex marriage on the constitutional position of the Church of England.  The document claims that, since there is no legal distinction between civil marriage and religious marriage (as opposed to civil and religious weddings), if the government's changes went ahead traditional marriage,

would in effect have been abolished and replaced by a new statutory concept which the Church – and many outside the Church – would struggle to recognise as amounting to marriage at all. A man and a woman who wished to enter into the traditional institution of marriage would no longer have the opportunity to do so.

This is, to say the least, a remarkably alarmist way of putting the matter.  There are real questions concerning the role of Anglican clergy as registrars: it could be argued, and no doubt will be, that their obligation to perform marriages for their parishioners ought to extend to same-sex couples.  But as the document goes on to admit, it is in practice highly unlikely that the European Court of Human Rights would intervene to force unwilling churches to marry people of the same sex - who would, after all, be able to achieve the same status via a civil ceremony. (A right to get married is not the same as a right to a particular style of wedding.)  Where the Courts might step in is in relation to the proposed bar on allowing churches to conduct same-sex marriages should they wish to do so.

This, I think, is the central fear behind the Church of England's official response to the consultation process. In Denmark, legislation has recently been passed allowing for same sex marriages in the country's established Lutheran church, subject to an opt-out for clergy who have conscientious objection to the idea. There's no prospect in sight of such a move being made in this country.  Whatever fears are being expressed today, the Church of England's role as the Established church no longer means (as it once did) that the state dictates what it should believe or how it should organise itself.  But if same-sex marriage goes through, there will be pressure from liberal Anglican clergy who would like the right to conduct weddings of gay couples.  Indeed, mainstream opposition within the church is likely to decline once same-sex marriage has become established and Anglicans notice that the Apocalypse has not arrived.

The Church of England has declared its opposition to government plans to introduce gay marriage. Photograph: Getty Images.
Belief, disbelief and beyond belief
Show Hide image

What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.