James Harding resigns as editor of The Times

His departure was "at the request of News Corp".

James Harding, the youngest ever editor of the Times, has resigned after five years.

His departure was announced in an address to staff at 3.30pm, and was "at the request of News Corp". He is due to appear on BBC's Question Time tomorrow.

Lech Mintowt-Czyz, the paper's news editor, tweeted: "His staff, me included, just gave him a long standing ovation." His colleague Patrick Kidd added: "Feel immensely saddened by James Harding's enforced resignation, like when Andrew Strauss went. Universally admired, a real positive force."

In a statement to staff, Harding said: "It has been made clear to me that News Corporation would like to appoint a new editor of the Times. I have therefore agreed to stand down. I called Rupert this morning to offer my resignation and he accepted." 

He referenced the paper's campaigns on cycling deaths, its coverage of child sex abuse rings and the work of his foreign and deputy editors as being memories of which he was particularly proud. 

The BBC's Robert Peston has tweeted that John Witherow will move from the Sunday Times to replace Harding, but this has not been confirmed by the company.

There are currently wider changes at News Corporation under way. Robert Thomson, the current managing editor of the Wall Street Journal, was recently named as the head of News Corporation’s new separate publishing arm. His appointment prompted the resignation of News International chief executive and Murdoch veteran Tom Mockridge, who had hoped to take on the role. News Corp has yet to announce a replacement for Mockridge. Gerard Baker, the deputy editor of the Wall Street Journal, will succeed Thomson as head of the News Corp-owned paper.

Harding was known as a cerebral and calm editor. His paper's coverage of the hacking scandal - which affected his sister paper, the News of the World - was praised for its fairness and objectivity. It appears likely that his departure heralds more integration between the daily and Sunday operations.

In the November ABC figures, the Times's circulation was measured at 399,321 copies, a year-on-year fall of 3.37 per cent.

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James Harding. Photo: Getty

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.

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The Femicide Census honours the victims of gender violence

The survey shows that the majority of women who are killed by men suffer their fate at the hands of a current or former partner.

 

The phrase “isolated incident” often turns up in media reports when a man kills a woman. The police use it at press conferences. It’s a code: it means the story ends here, no one else is in danger, the rest of the world can sleep safe because this particular killer does not have his sights on anyone else.

Thanks to the Femicide Census – a collaboration between Women’s Aid and nia, two specialist services dealing with violence against women – we now know how many of those “isolated incidents” there are, in England and Wales at least. Between 1 January 2009 and 31 December 2015, it was nearly a thousand: 936 women (aged 14 and over) were killed by men in seven years.

As the census reveals, the killing of women follows a very different pattern to the killing of men, although there is one thing both groups of victims have in common: their killers are almost always men.

But female victims are more likely to know their killer than male victims. In fact, they usually know him very well: 598 (64%) of the women were killed by a current or former partner, 75 (8%) by their son, 45 (4.8%) by another male family member. Killing is often what the census describes as “the final act of control”: not an “isolated incident”, but the culmination of a long campaign of coercion and violence.

This means that trends in femicide – the killing of a woman by a man – don’t match the overall homicide trend, as a 2011 UN study found when it noted that the overall rate of homicide had fallen while killings of women remained stable. But official records have long failed to recognise this difference, and there were no statistics specifically on men’s fatal violence against women until 2012, when Karen Ingala Smith (CEO of nia) started cataloguing reports of women killed by men on her personal blog, a project she called Counting Dead Women.

That was the start of the Femicide Census, now a high-powered data project on a platform developed by Deloitte. The list has been expanded so that victim-killer relationship, method of killing, age, occupation, ethnicity, health status and nationality can all be explored.

Or rather, these factors can be explored when they’re known. What gets reported is selective, and that selection tells a great a deal about what is considered valuable in a woman, and what kind of woman is valued. As the census notes: “almost without exception, it was easier to find out whether or not the victim had been a mother than it was to find out where she worked”.

Killings of black, Asian, minority ethnicity and refugee women receive vastly less media coverage than white women – especially young, attractive white women whose deaths fulfil the stranger-danger narrative. (Not that this is a competition with any winners. When the press reports on its favoured victims, the tone is often objectifying and fetishistic.)

Women’s chances of being killed are highest among the 36-45 age group, then decline until 66+ when they jump up again. These are often framed by the perpetrators as “mercy killings”, although the sincerity of that mercy can be judged by one of the male killers quoted in the census: “‘I did not want her to become a decrepit old hag.”

Another important finding in the census is that 21 of the women killed between 2009 and 2015 were involved in pornography and/or prostitution, including two transwomen. The majority of these victims (13 women) were killed by clients, a grim indictment of the sex trade. The most chilling category of victim, though, is perhaps the group of five called “symbolic woman”, which means “cases where a man sought to kill a woman – any woman”. In the purest sense, these are women who were killed for being women, by men who chose them as the outlet for misogynist aggression.

The truth about men’s fatal violence against women has for too many years been obscured under the “isolated incident”. The Femicide Census begins to put that ignorance right: when a man kills a woman, he may act alone, but he acts as part of a culture that normalises men’s possession of women, the availability of women for sexual use, the right to use force against non-compliant or inconvenient women.

With knowledge, action becomes possible: the Femicide Census is a clarion call for specialist refuge services, for support to help women exit prostitution, for drastic reform of attitudes and understanding at every level of society. But the census is also an act of honour to the dead. Over two pages, the census prints the names of all the women to whom it is dedicated: all the women killed by men over the six years it covers. Not “isolated incidents” but women who mattered, women who are mourned, women brutally killed by men, and women in whose memory we must work to prevent future male violence, armed with everything the census tells us.

 

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