Today is World Press Freedom Day. As the IPF exists to provide a platform for free speech, it is an important occasion for us; we recognise the role that a free press continues to play in exposing corruption, keeping people informed and enabling free expression. Hence, we’ve always been interested in stories of press censorship, and have focused on the fact that it’s a reality in many countries. But it’s also worth considering, especially today, the extent of press freedom in the United Kingdom – the country in which we happen to be based – and the attendant issue of internet freedom. There is a danger that questions of the former are bleeding into the latter, and this should concern us all.
The UK has lots of newspapers for a country of its size, and many of them have behaved pretty freely in the past. Perhaps due to the pressure of declining sales, some of the most sensational behaviour has come in recent years: Daily Telegraph reporters went undercover to break the expenses scandal that bedevilled MPs in 2009, and of course the phone hacking scandal broke in 2011, taking down the News of the World in its wake.
As a result of the hacking scandal particularly, the print media in the UK is under more scrutiny now than ever in living memory. In the past year and a half, the Leveson Inquiry – established by Prime Minister David Cameron to examine the culture of the press – has heard evidence, published its recommendations, and a bill has been passed through Parliament to establish an independent press regulator via a Royal Charter.
The impact this will have is still unclear, since signing up to the new regulator is voluntary and not all the newspapers have done so. Indeed, some papers have announced plans to collaborate in establishing their own regulator, which would differ from the existing Press Complaints Commission in that it, too, would be backed by a Royal Charter. The Hacked Off campaign group says this proves the media “are not sorry” and “do not accept the need for real change.” (It’s worth remembering that Hacked Off is mostly funded and represented by celebrities who are angry about intrusions into their own private lives.)
So it’s too early to say what the new regulator will look like or how powerful it will be, but the public now seems convinced of the need for it. With dozens of journalists going to jail and the country’s biggest-selling Sunday tabloid shutting down in the past few years, perhaps the British press have been duly chastised. (Yet, amusingly, the Telegraph and Daily Mail gave pride of place to a poll this week that allegedly showed the public supports the media’s rejection of Parliament’s Royal Charter, but, as this piece in the Guardian shows, the poll’s questions were blatantly designed to produce this outcome.)
Whatever comes of it all, Parliament’s reaction to the Leveson Inquiry has put an important question to the country: whether politicians are the right people to tell the media what quality journalism is. For the case that they are not, I refer readers to the Spectator (though I caution them that this magazine tries very hard to be sensationalist, does not pretend to impartiality, and occasionally loses its grip on the truth amidst its own spin). As the Spectator argues, we should remember that the heinous acts of intrusion committed by the News of the World were all already illegal, as is bribing the police, which NotW journalists did when they were caught. These were human failings, not legal ones, so it’s fair to argue there is little need for new laws. Tougher fines and front-page apologies, yes, but a new regulator is arguably excessive. The suggestion that politicians are partially motivated by revenge, having been stung by the Telegraph’s investigation into their expenses, is especially troubling.
Yet far more sinister are the first attempts – hesitant, confused and experimental though they are – to regulate the internet. In the UK, the government’s new press regulator was once thought to be part of these efforts, with concerns that the legislation’s first draft would effectively censor bloggers. However, a series of recent amendments have exempted taxpayer-funded council newspapers and online-only blogs. These amendments – though they were added in the hasty spirit in which the legislation itself was drafted, and thus are not completely reassuring – are important for freedom of expression.
But they do not mean the threat is gone for good. The power of the internet and social media in particular has alarmed politicians all over the world – statements by the Russian, Chinese and Saudi delegations at last December’s UN summit in Dubai speak to the origins of (some of) today’s threats to internet freedom. Although the more intrusive censorship powers mooted at that summit were shot down by the USA, UK and Canada, Western governments are not above attempts to control the digital space given the right circumstances: consider the British government’s threats to shut down Twitter during the 2011 London riots. Even the social networks themselves are occasional collaborators; both Twitter and Facebook have removed users’ content in the past.
You might argue that it’s their right, as owners of the media through which we communicate. A company has never really had this kind of power before – it’d be like Société Bic controlling what you write with their ballpoint pens. And just as there are laws against hate speech and incitement to terrorism, we should be expected to exercise our right to free speech responsibly, even online. Sitting behind a keyboard, removed from the consequences, should not entitle us to behave appallingly; I didn’t have much sympathy for the guy that sent a pretty nasty Tweet to Tom Daley during the Olympics, for instance.
Having said this, Facebook suspending pages intent on organising a legitimate protest should concern us all; if you’ve ever sent a Tweet, updated your Facebook, written a blog, posted in a forum or commented on a website, then your voice is subject to the approval of all the above institutions. Your voice may not be as well-publicised as that of a journalist for a major news organisation, but that means it doesn’t enjoy the same protection.
There are important principles to be defended in the debate about regulating print media, but the digital space is where the debates of the future will be conducted. That’s exciting because the digital space is pluralistic and inclusive – anyone, from anywhere in the world, can get involved provided they have the technical means to get online, and a government that doesn’t stop them from doing so. The internet belongs to all of us, not to a newspaper editor who brings down the ire of the state upon his entire industry after some unethical decisions.
If the British public feel that their papers deserve the regulation they now face, fine – print media is a separate institution that, if it screws up, should be made to face the music. But the internet is different; it’s not a distinct entity, it’s a free space. It’s your town’s public square, digitised and shared with the rest of the world, and our right to wander, speak and assemble freely within it – alongside our responsibility to do so respectfully – will be the most important right of the 21st century. It’s critical that we don’t allow the debate on press regulation to swallow it.
So today on World Press Freedom Day, let’s be aware of how print journalism has crept online, and how concerns about press censorship may soon affect us all. Governments have seldom had an easy relationship with journalists, and we’re all journalists now.
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