The Leveson Inquiry

As the Leveson Inquiry shapes up and witness hearings approach, reporters have been wondering about how much legal protection they have to cover the proceedings.

Questions have arisen around the issues of defamation and contempt of court and, more importantly, on whether it will be safe to report just any information made public during witness statements, considering they may be prejudicial to ongoing police investigations and future trials.

There is a possibility that part of the evidence which may be made public during the inquiry – especially during witness statements and cross-examination – may pose a substantial risk of serious prejudice to the criminal proceedings active at the moment (17 people have been arrested so far by Operations Weeting and Elveden).

Lord Justice Leveson made the following ruling on core participants on 2 NovemberThe Rt Hon Lord Justice Leveson:

1. In the period which has elapsed since my ruling of 14 September 2011, a number of further applications have been received for core participant status and it is necessary formally to deal with those that remain outstanding. I adopt and repeat the approach to these applications which I set out in my previous ruling.

Complainants2. Applications have been made from six further individuals who complain that they have been the target of illegal or unethical press attention. Having received further particulars and full representations on behalf of HJK, I granted both the application and the request for anonymity. In an ex tempore judgment, I refused an application by Ms Elaine Decoulos: this refusal is presently the subject of an application for judicial review. In relation to applications by Charlotte Church, Jackie Hames, Jane Winter and a very recent application from Ms Anne Diamond, I was satisfied that they fall within the same parameters as the applications made by others in a similar position and, in particular, satisfy the test set out in Rule 5(2) of the Inquiry Rules 2006. On the same basis of joint representation, these applications were granted.

Surrey Police3. There is no doubt that the allegation that journalists from the News of the World had accessed the mobile phone messages left for Amanda “Milly” Dowler at a time when she was missing from home constituted an important precipitating factor in the setting up of this Inquiry and I have previously designated members of the Dowler family (namely Sally, Bob and Gemma Dowler) as core participants. It has also been disclosed that the Surrey Police may have learnt at the time that the News of the World had either accessed these phone messages or was aware that a third party had done so. On the basis that I have previously ruled that evidential and procedural documents should only be made available in advance to core participants and that this part of the Inquiry is concerned to achieve a sufficient narrative of events to form the basis for a consideration of recommendations as to the way forward, the Chief Constable of Surrey Police has applied for the same status.

4. In a comprehensive written argument, it is submitted that because the Dowlers have been granted core participant status, the close involvement of Surrey Police in the allegations relating to Milly Dowler’s phone gives them a significant interest not least to ensure that the factual account is accurate and that unwarranted criticism is rebutted. It is also suggested that the phones of a number of Surrey officers may also have been targeted. While recognising that Part 2 of the Inquiry will look at specific allegations or evidence of unlawful conduct, there is a concern that Surrey Police will be subject to explicit criticism during the Inquiry proceedings (as has already been voiced in the House of Commons and the press). In that regard and to underline the potential risks, Mr John Beggs Q.C. for the Chief Constable identified the extent to which the Home Affairs Select Committee had commenced its enquiries into the issues raised and I have seen an exchange of correspondence with the Chairman of the Home Affairs Committee and press reports dealing with the allegations.

5. Although attractively argued, I do not accept the premise of this submission. The Dowlers (along with many others) have been granted core participant status in this Inquiry because they complain that they have been the target or victims of illegal or unethical press activity in circumstances in which there is no adequate or effective mechanism for them to prevent the interference of which complaint is made or to obtain satisfactory redress thereafter. Part 1 of the Inquiry is specifically directed to make recommendations about policy and regulatory regimes and the resolution of future concerns about relationships. The narrative that is essential to provide the background for that review will inevitably be general and cannot descend into the detail of any one case. Thus, as the Chief Constable recognises, I will not be making findings of fact in relation to any individual case and although the question why no step was taken to investigate the interception of Milly’s phone may well be asked (if only to provide the context), I do not intend to investigate the rights or wrongs of that decision (if such a decision was made).

6. Neither are the Surrey Police in the same position as the Metropolitan Police which was specifically charged with the responsibility of investigating allegations of phone hacking (and not merely as a possible by-product of a murder investigation). The Metropolitan Police are also at the centre (rather than being on the periphery in common with all other police forces) of concerns about the relationship between the press and the police. In any event, should it be necessary for the Surrey Police to be specifically engaged in any aspect of the facts, the Inquiry Rules 2006 provide ample opportunity for the interests of those affected by evidence to be protected without necessarily granting core participant status and, for the avoidance of all doubt, there is absolutely no question of anyone being subject to criticism without full opportunity to respond: see s. 19 of the Rules. In the circumstances, although I am grateful for the continued assistance which I have no doubt the Chief Constable will provide, this application is refused. National Union of Journalists7. On 24 August, the National Union of Journalists wrote to the Inquiry requesting core participant status, referring to their Code of Conduct as being at the heart of the work of journalists. A member of the Inquiry team responded to the effect the information provided did not appear to meet the criteria and sought further details. A recent communication has made it clear:“We speak on behalf of ordinary journalists who spend their lives working for different media organisations, including broadsheet and tabloid newspapers at national, regional and local level.

Our involvement as a core participant in the inquiry would provide a unique and valuable contribution because we are the only organisation able to represent the collective voice of thousands of journalists whilst at the same time provide representation, support and advice to individual journalists on the newsroom floor.”

8. The letter goes on to speak of the considerable experience that NUJ members have of “life at the sharp end of the media industry” and their efforts to introduce a conscience clause into contracts of employment providing for journalists the right to refuse to accept an assignment that would break the letter or the spirit of the Code of Conduct. Finally, in addition to making a point about absence of union recognition, the General Secretary expresses concern about the dominance within the Inquiry of editors and proprietors and observes that:“such executives represent a tiny minority of the industry and have a clear vested interest – the NUJ represents those journalists who make up the vast majority of a vibrant and diverse industry, and it is vital their voices are also heard and given serious consideration”.

9. I see considerable force in the submission that, through its members, the NUJ does provide a different window on the issues with which the Inquiry is concerned and, just as important, is able to access evidence on the issues of culture, practices and ethics which the Inquiry might not otherwise be able to obtain. Journalists may well speak to the union when they would not speak to the Inquiry and a senior representative journalist will no doubt be able to put evidence together (whether or not it is necessary to protect every source) which could be of value. In the circumstances, as I made clear at the hearing, this application is granted.

Telegraph Media Group10. Although not initially applying for core participant status, applications have since been received from Trinity Mirror plc and the Telegraph Media Group. In my ruling of 14 September 2011, when dealing with applications by media groups other than NI Group, I said:“Every aspect of Part 1 touches upon the press and its outcome will inevitably be relevant to (if not impact upon) the approach to certain types of news gathering and its dissemination, along with the relationship between the press and the public, the police, potential regulators and politicians. Thus, if the culture and practices of the press require change, the effect will be upon all. In the circumstances, I have no doubt that each of these media groups is entitled to core participant status for each module of this Part.”

11. I took a similar line when I granted the application by Trinity Mirror plc and, for the sake of consistency, must approach Telegraph Media Group in the same way. As I also identified at the hearing, this application is also granted.

The Role of Core Participants12. I add to this ruling only to emphasise that the core participants are not parties to litigation (either between themselves or with me): the Inquiry is inquisitorial in nature. Thus, where I do not consider that there is a potential for their interests to be affected, I will not consider it necessary to canvass their views and I am not going to allow the Inquiry to be driven down a road that requires me to generate decision after decision, each one of which may then lead to further litigation in the form of judicial review. I will be open and transparent in all that I do and I must, of course, be fair and comply with the terms of the Inquiries Act 2005 and the Inquiries Rules 2006. The corollary of this proposition is that, as a result, it is not necessary for the core participants to involve themselves in the very real expense of attending every day whether by counsel, solicitor or, indeed, at all. For my part, I anticipate that much of the evidence will be of background significance and will not need to engage the many organs of the press that are represented. My anxiety to ensure that this Inquiry takes account of the financial constraints upon public funds extends to a wish to minimise the cost to those taking part. All may rest assured that I will not take absence as discourtesy or lack of interest in the issues that I am required to address.

The Crown Prosecution Service and the Metropolitan Police Service have made a joint submission to the Leveson Inquiry regarding disclosure of evidence.

In the document, they explain steps should be taken to avoid prejudicing ongoing police investigations and future prosecutions.

Anonymity for potential witnesses willing to give evidence to the Leveson Inquiry has been the main subject discussed at a directions hearing held today.

Robert Jay QC, counsel to the inquiry, has raised the subject of Lord Justice Leveson potentially granting anonymity to witnesses who may fear for their “jobs or professional reputation” in the hearing at the Royal Courts of Justice.

The judge said he was prepared to consider applications for anonymity and that those wishing to contribute but remain anonymous should submit their evidence to the solicitor of the inquiry alongside their reasons for requesting anonymity in a separate sheet.

The role of corporate governance in maintaining standardsby Sly BaileyToday I’ve been asked to outline how the system of Corporate Governance works in practice at Trinity Mirror.

Unlike many newspaper companies we’re a plc, a public limited company, we therefore have expectations that are placed on us and expectations that we in turn have of our staff.

The reason for this is, of course, quite simple. We’re owned by a very broad shareholder base made up of “retail” share holders - members of the public who typically own a small amount of our shares - through to major financial institutions who on the whole hold the shares for pension funds and insurance companies: the Nation’s investments.

So that those two classes of shareholder can have confidence in investing in plcs, the directors are obliged to follow a well-established set of principles. These are a very clear set of common sense guidelines that have been codified into the UK Corporate Governance Code.

Unless you have worked in a plc, much of what the code suggests will be alien and could seem overly bureaucratic. In practice it simply helps the directors of the company run the business by a series of clear and codified systems and controls.

However, what are really important are the ways in which the systems are actually implemented and put into practice.

It’s not about box-ticking, it’s about how we manage the business and how that shapes the culture.

At Trinity Mirror we have a properly constituted Board with separately-defined responsibilities. The Board’s terms of reference are clearly set out with a list of matters that are reserved to the board for decision.

The split of responsibilities between the Chairman and me as CEO are agreed and written down.

We have a majority of non-executive directors, and as I’m on a public platform and aware of some of the recent calls for a greater number of women on boards, it would be remiss of me not to take this opportunity to give ourselves a plug and say that we are one of very few, possibly the only major plc, with a 50/50 split of men and women on our board.

The Board itself then operates through a series of committees: the Audit & Risk Committee; the Remuneration Committee, and; the Nominations Committee. Each of these is chaired by an experienced independent non-executive director. Each Committee has clear terms of reference which we publish on our website.

But whilst the board might sometimes believe it is omnipotent, it does have the humility to recognise that it cannot be omnipresent. It simply can’t be in all places looking at everything at all times. So we need a framework through which we manage the business.

We therefore undertake a very detailed assessment of the risks facing every part of every aspect of the business. Now, this is not a health and safety man with a clip board survey.

No, it’s a very full, bottom-up analysis of what we do as a business and the risks associated with it. The risks range from macro economic factors, structural change in our industry, breach of regulation, a failure in the supply chain, to a major editorial problem. At present we have 27 key risks.

Each risk is analysed in detail for its likelihood, and potential level of impact. We then review what steps can be put in place to manage those risks, and what controls are needed in the business to ensure that those steps are followed. Effectively this is where corporate governance is actually just good management practice.

All this is then captured in what we call our ‘risk map’. This is a living document that is under near-constant amendment by management.

It’s central to how we manage the business on a day-to-day basis and is formally reviewed by the Audit & Risk Committee of the Board three times a year.

In addition to the risk map, we then ask circa 70 of our senior executives from finance managers to advertising managers, lawyers to editors, to sign a certificate at the end of each financial year, to confirm whether or not they have any risk matters that they wish to bring to the attention of the Board.

These statements then allow me to sign my own statement to the board on the risk control systems. The board as a whole then endorses a statement on our risk processes and internal controls that is published in our annual report and accountsAnd that is not the end of the process. Our external auditors have to review all aspects of the process and make a statement themselves, which is published in the report and accounts.

Not leaving anything to chance, section 418 of the Companies Act requires the Directors to publish yet another statement confirming that they have told the auditors everything that they ought to have told them.

To give the Directors confidence that they can publish that statement, we require another 40 executives to sign a certificate confirming that they haven’t withheld anything from the auditors.

Now, you may think that this is little more than signing pieces of paper. In practice it absolutely influences the way in which executives run and manage the business, and is another tool that helps maintain standards.

I hope you’re still with me because finally we come back round to the UK Corporate Governance Code. The Directors are required to publish a statement as to whether or not the company has complied with the code over the previous year.

Once all of that is done, our shareholders get to vote on whether or not they accept our report and accounts. To help them in that there are a number of proxy voting agencies, bodies such as the ABI and Risk Metrics who review us for compliance with the code and score us.

The areas I’ve covered so far are the ways in which we have chosen to apply corporate governance rules that are applicable to all plcs. In addition to those processes, at Trinity Mirror we also have a series of operational policies. These set the rules for what people can and cannot do.

We have “authority levels” that set the limit on how much an individual can commit the company to spend, or the level of invoice they can sign off for payment.

We have fast track reporting systems if there is any suspected fraud within the company with a no de minimus rule. I have to be told about any suspected fraud however small and we have a whistleblowers’ charter.

In short, as it cascades through the business Corporate Governance becomes good management, it is simply what we do to manage the business.

But - and I want to emphasise this - no system of corporate governance, however well thought through and rigorously applied, can be completely “bomb proof”. It cannot stop the determined wrong-doer.

But what it can do, is significantly minimise the risk of wrong-doing with systems and controls that are designed to help the business quickly identify if something is going wrong.

Good corporate governance, as it cascades through the business, reinforces on a daily basis what is and isn’t acceptable. So the culture of the business is founded upon a clear set of principles and procedures, which are well-communicated and understood.

I now want to spend a few minutes on how good governance is applied to editorial.

Our Editors have a number of tools to help them in compliance with standards.

The first is their own version of the Combined Code and it really is their own version. It’s the Editors Code of Practice, often wrongly described as the PCC Code. That distinction is very important.

It’s not a code drawn up by some separate body and then imposed on Editors, it’s their own code that they have devised, a set of standards and a form of ethical guidebook. It’s amended from time to time as need arises, and I think it’s often overlooked that the code is not set in stone, but has been amended nearly 30 times since it was first introduced.

The second tool is Trinity Mirror’s own set of controls and procedures that form part of our own Corporate Governance system and apply equally to Editorial.

We have a very clear Code of Business Conduct that is issued to all new employees and forms part of their induction programme. This covers areas such as conflict of interest, entertainment, gifts and benefits, bribery, the confidentiality of information and inside information. Our Editors also have clear policies for procurement and expenses.

We also have a series of editorial procedures, the way we do things. These range from editorial legal review, to understanding the provenance of stories and, like any other system, we believe it should be reviewed from time to time.

Given the recent furore that has led to the setting up of this Inquiry, we recently undertook a thorough review of our Editorial Controls and Procedures.

The review was also timely as following the recent introduction of the Contentwatch editorial technology, we’ve seen changes to organisation, structure and process in many of our newsrooms.

The review, which was informed by the governance standards applicable to quoted companies, found that in general across our 165 newspapers and more than 500 websites, controls are robust. However, there are a number of areas where they can be strengthened and where practices and procedures can be updated.

These include training, legal oversight, expectations of third party suppliers and digital controls.

The review and its recommendations have been approved by the Board and are now Group policy. The full review document will also be submitted to this inquiry.

The area I haven’t yet covered is judgement. And this of course is a key factor in the running of our business, and specifically the editing of our newspapers. We’re not in the business of producing identikit products, identical cars for instance, that are mass-produced to detailed and standard specifications.

Faced with circa 80 blank pages, often more, every day our editors produce a different, unique version of their product. A frankly miraculous feat of skill, expertise and good old fashioned gut instinct of what will make a great story, a great paper.

The point is that what makes it into the paper and what doesn’t, is entirely a matter for the editor.

So working within the framework of all of the systems of corporate governance as described, a huge amount of what we do relies on the good, well-informed, expertly-applied judgement of our editors.

And I do believe that the culture that results from a clear and codified way of doing things, one of strong corporate governance that works hand in glove with good editorial judgment, will be one of honesty and integrity, and is a healthy and effective way to run newspapers.

And I would point to the fact that in the hundreds of thousands of stories that Trinity Mirror publishes every year, we make very few mistakes.

In summary, proper processes lead to proper behaviours, and need not limit creativity.

Thank you.

What redress should be available for breach of standards?by Desmond Browne QCI have been given ten minutes, so let me plunge straight in. My brief is to examine the question what redress should be available to a victim of a breach of standards. Obviously there are two routes: (1) through the courts, and (2) through a regulator.

I start from the premise that litigation is expensive, tends to delay the resolution of legitimate complaints and should be avoided at all cost – not least, because there is invariably inequality of arms as between claimants (unless represented on a conditional fee agreement) and national media conglomerates. My second premise is that self-regulation for professions is the best medicine. But it requires to be effective if it is to avoid the Shavian jibe that all professions are conspiracies against the laity.

In what follows I shall be concentrating on how regulation might be reformed to be effective and, at the same time, provide a cheaper course than litigation. Nonetheless, there are ways in which litigation could be made quicker and cheaper. For example, clause 8 of the new Defamation Bill proposes that libel actions be tried not by jury, but by judge alone, unless the court orders otherwise – which, on present authority is unlikely, unless the defendant is the state or a public authority such as the police.

This reform is much to be welcomed, since the current uncertainty as to whether the case will ultimately be tried by a jury prevents judges from resolving the all-important question of the meaning of the words as a preliminary issue. Experience has shown that in the majority of cases, if you resolve meaning, you resolve the whole dispute.

There are, of course, other ways of resolving meaning, such as mediation, early neutral evaluation and arbitration, but each of them require the consent of both parties, and co-operation cannot be compelled. I have long regarded early neutral evaluation as a more likely way of achieving resolution of a dispute than simple mediation. Naturally it would require an experienced judge or generally respected senior practitioner for the process to be effective. The evaluation needs to be authoritative, as well as neutral.

As regards arbitration, the facilities are available through Early Resolution, the body set up by Alistair Brett, formerly of The Times and the former High Court judge, Sir Charles Gray.

Turning to regulation, the first question is whether we should be reading the last rites over the corpse of the Press Complaints Commission. It has certainly been an unconscionable time a-dying. As long ago as 1993 Sir David Calcutt concluded that self-regulation had failed and recommended statutory regulation to Government. In July, the former Lord Chancellor, Jack Straw, told us in his Gareth Williams Memorial Lecture that the Commission’s failure had been abject.

So why is it that the PCC universally fails to command the same authority and respect as, say, the Advertising Standards Authority ? Tim Bratton, general counsel for the Financial Times, has suggested that the problem is not an ethical one, but rather that the PCC cannot recover from the public’s perception of it as ineffective to regulate the media’s big beasts.

It is certainly true that too often the PCC’s adjudications have been so feeble as to create the impression of partisanship towards its media paymasters. One successful claimant in a libel action (the hypnotist, Paul McKenna) only brought his proceedings for damages, because the PCC had ruled that the article about him in a tabloid paper had not been defamatory. At the ensuing trial it was conceded that the words actually alleged dishonesty.

All the same, the PCC needs to be given credit for some areas in which it has been reasonably effective:• Claimants’ solicitors acknowledge the assistance it has provided in dealing with harassment.• Sometimes, too, particularly in cases involving children, its warnings in advance of a threatened publication have been heeded.

But it is quite impossible to share the view of its former Chairman, Sir Christopher Meyer, who when asked by the Guardian on his departure in March 2009 what was wrong with the PCC replied: “Not a lot”.

Much too often in this debate, the argument has turned on a false dichotomy: statutory regulation as against self-regulation. Graham Mather was right this morning: it is not a binary choice. It is possible to have self-regulation within a statutory framework.

That is precisely how the legal professions have regulated their affairs in the aftermath of the Legal Services Act 2007. It is quite different from the GMC model for doctors, and in my own profession the Bar Standards Board under Lady Deech has proved acceptable to the Bar, imaginative and effective as a regulator, and wholly independent of government.

As Paul Dacre has rightly gone some way to acknowledging this morning, some form of statutory underpinning is inevitable, for the simple reason that otherwise there is no power to require all the country’s national and regional newspapers and magazines to participate in a system with a binding Code of Conduct. Disengagement from the PCC is not just deplorable; it is the very opposite of that responsibility without which a system of voluntary self-regulation cannot work.

Of course, it is the very essence of self-regulation that it must never become self-serving. How, then, is this to be achieved ? Let me try to answer what Shami Chakrabarti has called the Richard Desmond question.

1. Firstly, I do not believe that a direct statutory regulator, along the lines of the Financial Services Authority, would be desirable. It is sometimes argued that since Ofcom very successfully regulates our high-quality broadcast media, its jurisdiction should be extended to the print media. But this is an analogy which fails to persuade – radio and TV require licensing to prevent anarchy on the air-waves. There cannot be many who want to see print journalists licensed.

Having said that, Ofcom might have a role as an over-arching regulator, just as the Legal Services Board supervises the independent Bar Standards Board and Ofcom itself supervises the ASA.

2. Next, the new regulator (let’s call it the Press Standards Commission) must be properly funded and better staffed. Michael Smyth, much admired from his time at Clifford Chance and a newly appointed Commissioner, has rightly commented that it is not difficult to see why the PCC should have been unanimously identified as a patsy, when it has a workforce of fewer than 20 and an annual budget of less than £2m – ironically, the very sum which News International are said to be paying the Dowlers.

3. Thirdly, the new regulator will need to be given statutory jurisdiction over all the nation’s media with a substantial readership. It will also, as Paul Dacre has said, need the power to raise its running costs from those it regulates.

4. I would not go as far as Paul Dacre and advocate the power to fine, any more than I support the rationale of awards of punitive or exemplary damages. But I do strongly believe that the Press Standards Commission should have the power to award compensation up to a fixed ceiling of say, £20,000 or £25,000.

In the long run, this will be cheaper for the media than litigation.

As the Strasbourg court pointed out in the Peck case in 2003, an effective remedy is required by Article 13 for the breach of a Convention right.

This proposal would ensure the access to justice required by Article 6 in the light of the continuing non-availability of legal aid, and the threatened abolition of effective conditional fee agreements. A lack of effective access to justice all too easily breeds a culture of media impunity.

The Dowler family were right to remind the Prime Minister that they could not have reached their settlement with News International without a “no-win, no-fee agreement”. Having said that, the current CFA regime with ATE premiums is indefensible, and regrettably Lord Justice Jackson has not found the solution.

Let me add two qualifications as regards compensation–(i) It should only be awarded, in cases where the publication was tortious. It should not be awarded merely because a story was inaccurate. A published correction should be sufficient in such circumstances.(ii) Costs should not be awarded, save in the most exceptional circumstances. In this way the workings of the Press Standards Commissions should not get bogged down in legal argument.

5. I would not discourage the new body from pursuing the practice adopted by the PCC of pre-publication warnings to the media, but it should have no power to restrain a publication. That should continue to be left to the Courts.

6. The Press Standards Commission should not be given the power to order the publication of apologies. Remember that the Courts have never had that power, even under s.9 Defamation Act 1996. There is no point in an apology if it is forced and insincere. Richard Ingrams once said that the only knowing falsities he had ever published in Private Eye were some of its apologies.

However, the new Commission should have the power to order the publication of its findings with equivalent prominence to the original publication. If that means a front-page correction for a front-page article, then so be it, no matter how great the editorial reluctance.

7. Finally, as an aid to its investigations, the Commission should have the power, enforceable if necessary by court order, to call for documents (subject to legitimate claims under the current law to protect sources).

We do not yet know why the Metropolitan Police failed to get to the bottom of the hacking scandal. The failure of the PCC in November 2009 is easier to explain, however unwise its jibe that the Guardian’s stories of July that year did not live up to their billing. The Commission simply lacked the necessary inquisitorial powers.

Having said that, I would not personally set up a separate Ombudsman, as suggested by Paul Dacre. If a power to summon journalists to give evidence is really necessary, it should be given to the new Commission.

A journalist who developed TV shows for Endemol and wrote for several national newspapers has learnt his phone may have been hacked by the News of The World.Tom Rowland, 59, who established the Daily Telegraph’s property desk in the late 80s, a section he edited until 1997, and wrote for newspapers such as The Times, found out from Operation Weeting officers that his details were kept in private investigator Glenn Mulcaire’s notes.

Rowland was told by Weeting officers in August that Mulcaire kept a notebook with information about him. Officers also showed him a “key stroke log” which appears to indicate calls were made from News International offices to his number, followed by the ‘#’ key, used to access mobile phones’ voicemail remotely.

Rowland told Hacked Off: “In a nutshell, I've been given evidence by the police that News International has consistently hacked into my phone from 2004 to 2006.

“One bit of evidence was a call log they had coming out of the NoW offices and the other a notebook kept by Glenn Mulcaire.”

He added: “First of all I was dumbfounded by it. I was extremely annoyed. You don't want to be the source of things going out when you have people talking to you in confidence, which I had whilst working for Endemol.

“I have never chosen to have any dealings particularly with the tabloid press - however it appears they were interested in some of the people that I used to work with who were celebrities.

“After I found out I thought, ’you bastards’. If they wanted to know stuff, they could have called me and perhaps I could have told them certain things. They’ve never even bothered to call me first.”

Rowland believes phone hacking, which has prompted the Leveson Inquiry, may lead to serious journalists having trouble with their ‘public interest’ stories.

He said: “The danger of all this is that you might end up with anybody who’s doing real stories in the public interest having to fight to do their job.”

Attacks on the Leveson Inquiry, and a thorough debate on corporate governance and new forms of press regulation marked the latest Leveson Inquiry seminars held on Wednesday, October 12, at the Queen Elizabeth II conference centre.

Eve Salomon, chair of the Internet Watch Foundation, chair of the Royal Institute of Chartered Surveyors and a former commissioner on the PCC, started the session with a speech on the future of self-regulation from the perspective of a regulator.

Daily Mail editor-in-chief, Paul Dacre, spoke on the same subject and was followed by Will Moy, director of fact-checking group Full Fact, who gave an account on the current system from a user’s perspective.

Lord Gordon Borrie, former director of the Office of Fair Trading, Stephen Hill, non-executive director of Channel 4 Television and of the IG Group, and Sly Bailey, chief executive of Trinity Mirror, all spoke about the role of corporate governance in maintaining standards.

The afternoon session had Professor Steven Barnett, from the University of Westminster, speaking on “What redress should be available for breach of standards?”, as well as Desmond Browne QC, and Professor Robert Baldwin, from the London School of Economics and Political Science.

Defending freedom of expression were Index on Censorship chief executive John Kampfner, Professor James Curran, from Goldsmiths University, and former Sun editor Kelvin MacKenzie, who seized the opportunity to attack the Leveson Inquiry and Prime Minister David Cameron.

Defending freedom of expressionby Professor James CurranLast Thursday, we were told that Britain has the most competitive press in the world. We were informed by a distinguished editor that ‘the freedoms won here became the model for much of the rest of world’. A positive comparison was also made between the rough and tumble of British journalism and the muzzled, supine journalism of France. From this it seems to reasonable to conclude that Lord Justice Leveson, and his minders mostly drawn from posh rather than media, should leave well alone.

But missing from this eloquent testimony was crucial, and rather perplexing, evidence. Although the British press has an exceptionally high number of competing national titles (10 in all), the degree of press concentration – judged in terms of leading groups’ share of total daily circulation – is high in Britain, much higher for example than in Germany or America; and the degree of cross-media concentration in Britain is in comparative terms very high.

This concentration of communication power distorts British public life. It creates a situation in which the forging of an alliance between even a couple of press oligarchs and government can profoundly influence the nature of contemporary journalism. Critical attention has been given to Tony Blair’s courtship of – and subsequent close relationship to - Rupert Murdoch as if it was exceptional. In fact, it was merely one variant of a recurring phenomenon. During part of the 1980s, a large segment of the national press developed an almost cheerleader relationship to government. Indeed, the Thatcher cabinet minister, Ian Gilmour, wrote that the press during this period could ‘scarcely have been more fawning if it had been state controlled’. The word ‘fawning’ I associate with a gazelle, and somehow I cannot quite picture Kelvin Mackenzie, a key editor of the time, as a dancing gazelle. The truth was more complex than Gilmour conveyed. A large section of the press went into coalition with the Thatcher government because they were both committed to a shared project of regenerating, as the saw it, British society. Similarly a large part of the press went into coalition with the Chamberlain government in the late 1930s in support of appeasement as a way of averting war. This resulted, as Richard Cockett shows, in extensive distortion of press coverage.

The problem with our high degree of press concentration, in other words, is that it encourages the periodic erosion of press independence through the forging of high level alliances between press oligarchs and government that can be tacit or explicit, pragmatic or ideological. This gives rise to what can be termed ‘coalitional journalism’ that weakens the role of the press as an independent watchdog, and distorts the press as a medium of debate.

So, one issue that needs to be addressed is how to tackle media concentration. Lord Justice Leveson, with a broad remit, has a number of policy choices. He can advocate anti-monopoly controls more effective than the ones that we have now. Or he can seek to limit publisher power within media organisations by supporting the autonomy of editors, involving journalists in their appointment and introducing a conscience clause in journalists’ contracts of employment. Or he can foster increased press diversity through a limited right of reply or the development of alternative centres of net-based journalism. These choices are not necessarily mutually exclusive.

The second key issue, I suggest, that the Leveson inquiry needs to address is the culture of British journalism. This culture is anchored by righteous libertarianism, inclined to be self-congratulatory, and is tenaciously hostile to external proposals for improvement. Thus, the first Royal Commission on the Press Report, which proposed setting up the Press Council, was excoriated by national newspapers in 1949; the second Royal Commission Report, which advocated anti-monopoly controls, was widely condemned in the national press in 1962; and the report of the third Royal Commission, which proposed strengthening monopoly controls, was derided in 1977 by national papers across the political spectrum (with the Daily Mirror being as dismissive as the Daily Telegraph). To judge from this historical record, if the forthcoming Leveson report recommends any substantive reform, it will be denounced as an attack on press freedom; and if it fails to recommend a substantive reform, it will be judged a waste of time and money. This prompts my private thought: how wonderful it is not to be Lord Justice Leveson. But perhaps Paul Dacre’s encyclical will make the writing of the report, and its reception, easier.

The British press tends to take refuge in what might be called First Amendment fundamentalism: it proclaims that the only objective of public policy should be to keep the press free from government. It also tends to brush aside criticism by asserting that, unlike critics, the press is answerable every day at the newsstand, and knows what people want.

It is of course centrally important that the press should be independent from government: indeed, my concern is that the press, as presently constituted, is not independent enough. However, discussion should not be limited only to defending freedom of expression. The press has an obligation to serve the public good, and it is legitimate to discuss how this objective can be secured.

In this discussion, the public should be allowed to speak for itself rather than be spoken for solely as satisfied customers. In 2010, 79% of British adults said that they tended not to trust the press. This was a higher proportion than in any of the 28 countries that were surveyed – in some cases twice as high. This is consistent with other surveys over many years: for example, the Eurobarometer survey in 2003 also found that, in Europe, the British press was the least trusted by its public.

It seems therefore that there are two perceptions of the British press on offer: one of superlative journalism that is a model for the world, and another of the press as untrustworthy. One version comes from journalists, and the other from the public. One thing the Leveson inquiry should consider is the creation of an institutional space where these, and other, contrasting perceptions can be productively discussed. The present system of self-regulation is too narrow because it is centred on social worker mediation of individual grievances. What is needed is a more imaginative form of self-regulation which includes, among its objectives, the fostering of a more self-reflective press culture. This new regime could establish at the heart of the press a centre that regularly evaluates, on the basis of informed research, the performance of print and net journalism. This centre would honour great reporting, and condemn shoddy journalism. Its objective would be to promote an informed, evidence-based discussion about how best the press can be both free and advance the public good.

I would have liked to have said something about the possibilities and limitations of the internet, and the crisis of local journalism. But in the time available, I have confined myself to making just two points: the Leveson Inquiry needs to address the issue of press concentration and the periodic erosion of press independence from government, and it needs to identify ways of modifying the culture of British print journalism.

Thank you for listening.

James Curran is Professor of Communications at Goldsmiths.

Defending Freedom of Expressionby John KampfnerFreedom of expression is one of the most basic human rights. It is at the heart of democracy, of liberty. Without an open and raucous public space, society is weaker.

Freedom of expression is not, however, incompatible with high journalistic standards. It depends on good journalism. That is why we at Index on Censorship – the UK’s leading free speech organisation and one of the world’s most authoritative voices in this area – warmly welcome the Leveson enquiry. We see merit in the enquiry looking at as many areas as time allows.

It is important though to distinguish between the essential - getting to the bottom of the hacking scandal and recommending measures to prevent a repetition – and the desirable – creating the perfect media. A perfect media does not exist anywhere: never has and never will. Given the inevitable choice, would we rather have a press that is excessively pliant, cautious, and deferential – and we monitor dozens of countries with media like this – or one that sometimes errs?

The hacking scandal was about more than journalistic standards. It was about one media organisation, above all others, that accrued such power that it dominated public life, dictating to politicians what they should say and do. That it happened was an indictment on two generations of politicians, from Tony Blair flying to an Australian island to kneel at the feet of Rupert Murdoch to David Cameron’s intimate Oxfordshire suppers, to police chiefs taking jollies, to a so-called regulator happily taking no for an answer.

So let’s not delude ourselves; let’s not allow anyone to divert this into side issues. News International and perhaps others behaved the way they did because they were allowed to by politicians who were in turns cowardly and titillated by the invitation to the corporate top table. This was one, but by no means the only, example of a corroded and corrupted public life. I say this to make it clear that hackgate is as much a political problem as a journalistic one.

But, whatever the bigger context, it is vital that lessons are learnt. Changes must be made to improve journalism. It might be helpful to point out, first of all, where most sensible people agree. There is consensus that cross-media ownership laws should be tightened. Previous governments could have acted, but chose not to for the reasons I have already suggested.

The PCC, which failed not just on phone hacking but on the McCanns and other cases, needs radical reform. We can get snarled on the wording: self-regulation, independent regulation, statutory regulation. It is unsustainable for a regulator to have so little teeth, to be so dependent on its paymasters, the big newspapers, and therefore always susceptible to the charge of obeisance.

Some quick pointers for regulation… The regulator should regulate and not just mediate. It should be an authority on the big issues of the day. It should not wait to be asked to intervene. It should not, in my view, contain serving editors. Even if they recuse themselves from decisions affecting their organisations, the perception remains of a cosy cabal. Former editors and reporters should take their place. It should not oblige newspapers to join, but membership should be regarded as a gold standard. The same goes for the big bloggers. If a large media organisation chooses not to join, it should be known that they have put themselves in a lower division.

On issues of equivalence for corrections, fines and codes of conduct, I’d be happy to supply fuller recommendations. As for licensing, I merely refer you to precedent elsewhere, in other democracies. In Hungary, laws adopted in 2010 imperil a free press by imposing state control over public service broadcasters; by imposing fines on publishers, and by introducing a regulatory system that opens the door to political pressure. The excesses of media cross ownership and political bullying are all too evident in Italy. Excessive regulation of journalists in print and online is a growing threat there. I could cite other similar countries.

Now on to privacy. Articles 8 and 10 of the European Convention are both powerful rights. Privacy means much more than just looking at the love lives of celebrities. It is under threat from governments and from large corporations who take our data and use it to their own advantage. It is right and proper that judges agonise over both articles. Yes they come into conflict – we at Index deal with these conflicts almost every day – so how do we resolve them?

In parenthesis, I would also add this: we must be careful not to draw distinctions between ‘quality’ and popular journalism. Popular journalism is important in this country. Again, to cite France, do we want to have three high-minded newspapers dominating the national agenda – an elite talking to an elite? For sure, I would rather that the media talked more about oppression in Belarus than Amy Childs or Cheryl Cole, but I’m obviously in a minority.

Do we take the French view that pretty much everything is private unless deemed public? I hope not. In this environment it is all too easy for the rich and powerful to cite privacy, or their new-found friend confidentiality, to conceal information. In France, this frequently encompasses the financial dealings of politicians.

We all agree on the obvious cases – the hypocrisy of the moral majoritarian caught with his trousers down. What about other examples? It seems to me that if you make gains – in terms of your career or finances – by putting your private life into the public domain, you weaken your claim to privacy. If you sell your wedding, then if that marriage goes wrong, doesn’t the public have a right to know? Ultimately it is for the judges to decide. Even if we disagree on individual decisions, it is surely the least worst method. I cannot see how legislation in this area will help. Ultimately, as with so much in journalism, it should be determined by public interest. The PCC’s definition is good. But it can certainly be improved. This is an important task for the inquiry.

Which brings me onto investigative journalism: first, let’s nail one stupidity. The “I was in Tuscany” defence does not stand up to scrutiny. Any investigation that involves underhand methods needs the hands-on approval of the editor. The editor should, in outline, inform his or her managing editor. Many, perhaps most, investigations, involve the use of furtive and sometimes illegal practices. These include:• paying sources for information• stealing documents or photographs• forging documents• impersonating people• obtaining information through secret recordings or accessing privately stored information ‘blagging’ addresses, bank statements and other records.

When is it acceptable to use these practices? The hacking of Milly Dowler’s phone has been rightly condemned. But would we feel the same sense of outrage if a journalist hacked the phone of an MP suspected of accepting bribes from an arms dealer? To cite a few examples: The Guardian used forgery to access private documents to expose Jonathan Aitken; the Telegraph paid for stolen information to reveal MPs expenses; in the News of the World, yes the News of the World, Mazher Mahmood carried out various sting operations that led to the uncovering of the Pakistan cricket scandal.

Again it comes down to public interest. Without investigative journalists, the hacking scandal would not have been uncovered; this inquiry would not be taking place.

I will now adopt Alastair Campbell’s maxim that only when you’re tired of saying something is it beginning to sink in. So once more: Journalism in this country is too weak, not too strong. Look back over the big news stories over the past decade – from weapons of mass destruction to the banks to much more besides – and ask yourself: have the media found out too much or too little? Are newspapers really staffed by feral beasts or by sometimes lazy and often pliant hacks all too eager to accept the line of those in authority?

British journalism operates under too many constraints. The worst are England’s libel laws. When Index and our partners at English PEN and Sense About Science launched our libel reform campaign in November 2009, the issue was deemed trivial by politicians. Jack Straw, then Justice Secretary, suggested he didn’t know what the fuss was about. Within a few months we had persuaded the three main parties of its seriousness. All made libel reform a manifesto commitment and within weeks of the general election, a private members bill was published by Lord Lester. I pay tribute to his work as I do to Lord McNally, the Justice Minister, who adapted this work into a government draft defamation bill published last March. Although we argued that several provisions remained too weak, and are seeking to strengthen them, we welcomed the draft bill as a major step forward.

The law in this area was so bad that the US Congress passed the Speech Act in the summer of 2010. This gives American citizens protection from English libel suits. London became known as “the town called sue”, where oligarchs and sheikhs can chill the speech of not just journalists, but writers, bloggers, scientists and doctors the world over. The Commons Culture Select Committee, in its report last year, described the situation as a “humiliation”.

In a few days’ time a joint Lords and Commons scrutiny committee will publish its findings on the draft bill. The Ministry of Justice will respond shortly after. Pretty much everyone – apart from a few claimant law firms worried about their profit margins – is on board. The coast is clear for full legislation next year. It is ready to go. The only problem we face is, I’m afraid, you Lord Justice Leveson. We know that libel is not part of your remit; we know that you have no desire to hold up the legislation. But some in government are now hiding behind this, and wondering whether to throw libel reform into this one big soup. It is important that you let ministers know that you have no wish to hold it up.

Reforming libel will go a considerable way to improving British democracy. Article 10 is not about the rights of journalists to bug the phones of victims of crime, or about multinational corporations bullying public figures. It is about the public’s right to know. It is about furious argument; it is about the right of others to air opinions you vehemently dislike. It is about an open society. For sure, let us seek to eradicate malfeasance; but control free expression at your peril.

Defending freedom of expressionby Kelvin MacKenzieSo where is David Cameron today? Where is our great Prime Minister who ordered this ludicrous inquiry?

After all the only reason we are all here is due to one man’s action; Cameron’s obsessive arse kissing over the years of Rupert Murdoch. Tony Blair was pretty good at it as was Brown but Cameron was the Daddy.

Such was his obsession with what newspapers said about him (and Rupert had three market leaders) that in the seven years he had led the party he had issued all his senior colleagues - especially Michael Gove with knee pads in order to protect their blue trousers when they genuflected front of the Special Sun.

Cameron wanted Rupert onside as he believed, quite wrongly in my view, that The Sun’s endorsement would help him to victory (when the paper did come out for Cameron the Sun’s sale fell by 40,000 copies that day).

There was never a party, a breakfast , a lunch, a cuppa or a drink that Cameron and Co would not turn up to in force if The Great Man or his handmaiden Rebekah Brooks was there. There was always a queue to kiss their rings.

It was gut wrenching.

An American with a disdain for Britain running a declining industry in terms of sales, profitability and influence was considered more important than a meeting with any captain of industry no matter how big their workforce or balance sheet.

Cameron had clearly gone quite potty. And the final proof that he was certifiable was his hiring of my friend Andy Coulson.

I remember telling anybody that would listen that if I were Brown every time Cameron stood up in the Commons he should arrange for mobile phones to ring on his side of The House. It would have killed Cameron.

Nobody took me seriously. And then the scandal broke. Not a scandal of Rupert’s making but the order went out from Cameron; Stop the arse kissing and start the arse kicking.

Not a backward glance from Cameron to a bloke he had so assiduously wooed for almost a decade. Simply how can I- a ho hum Tory leader who couldn’t even win a General Election in a recession against a turnip like Brown-avoid any fallout from the phone hacking.

And the answer is this bloody inquiry.

God help me that free speech comes down to the thought process of a judge who couldn’t win when prosecuting counsel against Ken Dodd for tax evasion and more recently robbing the Christmas Island veterans of a substantial pay-off for being told to simply turn away from nuclear test blasts in the Fifties.

Its that bad.

I have been forced by what sounds like the threat of a jail term to give a witness statement to this inquiry.

The questions not only made me laugh through their ignorance but also that a subject as serious as free speech should be dealt with in this manner.

Question 7 basically wanted to know if an Editor knew the source of many of the stories. To be frank I didn’t bother during my 13 years with one important exception.

With this particular story I got in the news editor, the legal director, the two reporters covering it and the source himself on a Friday afternoon. We spent two hours going through the story and I decided that it was true we should publish it on the Monday.

It caused a worldwide sensation. And four months later The Sun was forced to pay out a record £1million libel damaged to Elton John for wholly untrue rent boy allegations.

So much for checking a story. I never did it again. Basically my view was that if it sounded right it was probably right and therefore we should lob it in.

How will this inquiry change that?

Question six also deals with sources and I disclosed another story that happened during my 13 years as editor of The Sun.

That morning we had led on a Ministry of Defence story revealing some kind of secret we felt our readers should know. The reporter concerned came in and said there was problem. No.10 had gone nuts and an official inquiry was starting into who had leaked the story with a colonel from MI6 being drafted in to head it.

The reporter told me the MoD were determined to get to the bottom of it but it was not all bad news. Why was that I asked.

Because the colonel heading the inquiry was the bloke who gave us the story in the first place.

How will this inquiry change that?

Yes there was criminal cancer at the News of The World. Yes there were editorial and senior management errors as the extent of the cancer began to be revealed. But why do we need an inquiry of this kind?

There are plenty of laws to cover what went on. After all 16 people have already been arrested and my bet is that the number may well go to 30 once police officers are rounded up.

Almost certainly they will face conspiracy laws, corruption laws, false accounting laws. There are plenty of laws that have been broken. Lord Leveson knows them all by heart. Supposing these arrests didn’t come from the newspaper business. Supposing they were baggage handlers at Heathrow nicking from luggage, or staff at Primark carrying out a VAT swindle, or more likely, a bunch or lawyers involved in a mortgage fraud would such an inquiry have ever been set up.

Of course not.

This is the way in which our Prime Minister is hopeful he can escape his own personal lack of judgement. He knows, and Andy knows, that he should never have been hired into the heart of government. I don’t blame Andy for taking the job I do blame Cameron for offering it.

It was clearly a gesture of political friendship aimed over Andy’s head to Rupert Murdoch. If it wasn’t that then Cameron is a bloody idiot-a couple of phone calls from Central Office people would have told him that there was bad smell hanging around the News of the World.

Rupert told me an incredible story. He was in his New York office on the day that The Sun decided to endorse Cameron for the next General Election. That day was important to Brown as his speech to the party faithful at the Labour Party conference would have been heavily reported in the papers.

Of course the endorsement blew away Brown’s speech off the front page. That night a furious Brown called Murdoch and in Rupert’s words;” Roared at me for 20 minutes.” At the end Brown said;” You are trying to destroy me and my party. I will destroy you and your company.” That endorsement on that day was a terrible error. I can’t believe it was Rupert’s idea. Strangely he is quite a cautious man. Whoever made that decision should hang their head in shame. I point the finger at a management mixture of Rebekah and James Murdoch.

The point of my anecdotes is to show that this inquiry should decide there is nothing wrong with the Press, that we should enshrine free speech in Cameron’s planned Bill of Rights-just like America- and accept the whole scandal was simply a moment in time when low-grade criminality took over a newspaper.

If anything, the only recommendation that should put be forward by Leveson is one banning by law over ambitious and under talented politicians from giving house room to proprietors who are seeking commercial gain from their contacts.

In tabloid terms arse kissing will be illegal. Should have an interesting passage through Parliament.

Do that and you will have my blessing-and I suspect the blessing from Rupert Murdoch too.

The future for self regulation: An editor's perspectiveby Paul DacreThank you for inviting me to speak to you today. Let me start by making it clear that I unequivocally condemn phone hacking and payments to the police. Such practices are a disgrace and have shocked and shamed us all. They need to be purged from journalism and reforms instigated to prevent such criminal activities ever happening again.

But let's keep all this in proportion. Britain's cities weren't looted as a result. No-one died. The banks didn't collapse because of the News of the World. Elected politicians continued to steal from the people they were paid to represent.

The nation didn't go to war. Yet the response has been a judicial inquiry with greater powers than those possessed by the public inquiries into the Iraq war – an inquiry, incidentally, that includes a panel of experts who – while honourable distinguished people – don't have the faintest clue how mass-selling newspapers operate.

Indeed, am I alone in detecting the rank smells of hypocrisy and revenge in the political class's current moral indignation over a British press that dared to expose their greed and corruption – the same political class, incidentally, that, until a few weeks ago, had spent years indulging in sickening genuflection to the Murdoch press.

Which is why today, I'd like to try to persuade this inquiry that self-regulation – albeit in a considerably beefed up form – is, in a country that regards itself as truly democratic, the only viable way of policing a genuinely free press.

I'd also today like to persuade you that there are thousands of decent journalists in Britain who don't hack phones, don't bribe policemen and who work long anti-social hours for modest recompense – and if they're in the regional press often for a pittance – because they passionately believe that their papers give voice to the voiceless and expose the misdeeds of the rich, the powerful and the pompous.

And in that context, I'd first like to explore several illuminating paradoxes in the current furore over the press.

Paradox number one is that the political class's current obsession with clamping down on the press is contiguous with the depressing fact that the newspaper industry is in a sick financial state. Several of our quality papers are losing awesome amounts of money. More worrying, Britain's proud provincial and local press – currently subject to closures, mergers and swingeing cuts – is arguably facing the severest challenges.

This diminishes our democracy. Courts go uncovered. Councils aren't held to account. And the corrupt go unchallenged. That is a democratic deficit that in itself is worthy of an inquiry.

My second paradox is this growing clamour for more regulation ignores the uncomfortable truth that the Press is already on the very cusp of being over regulated. Indeed, over the past twenty years, restriction has been piled upon restriction.

The Data Protection Act means that reporters can be criminalised for such basic journalist practices as obtaining ex-directory numbers which they need to do to check stories are accurate.

The Human Rights Act is resulting in the creation of a privacy law by judges who seem to attach more weight to the right to privacy than to the right to freedom of expression. This is being compounded by the growth of injunctions and super-injunctions to prevent information being printed that is freely available on the internet.

Then we have the ruinous CFA system and its cynical partner "After The Event insurance" which means that virtually no newspaper can today afford to fight a court case that could end up costing many millions.

Meanwhile the Bribery Act – in which there's no public interest defence – makes it illegal to pay a civil servant for information that could reveal corruption and, indeed, would have prevented The Telegraph from paying for the material confirming MPs' fraud.

And finally, I believe that the PCC's code, which has been rightly strengthened over the years, has blunted Sunday newspapers' ability to secure the kind of sensational stories that were the bread and butter of their huge circulations in the past.

Today, we are in danger of ignoring the fact that news doesn't grow on trees. News, let me remind you, is often something that someone – the rich, the powerful, the privileged – doesn't want printed. Establishing the truth and accuracy of such news demands considerable resource and resourcefulness and is, frankly, becoming increasingly difficult.

My last paradox is that this demand for greater press regulation comes at a time when more and more of the information that people want to read is being provided by an utterly unregulated and arguably anarchic internet.

In an age of global communication, imposing rules on British print publications is not going to stop the spread of "celebrity tittle tattle", which seems to upset some commentators so much. Web users can easily access sources for such information if they can't get it from the printed press – and no regulator will be able to stop them. Indeed, it would be commercially ruinous to constrain British newspapers from publishing material that is freely available elsewhere.

I now come to the PCC and the myths that surround it.

And Myth One is that the conduct of the press has deteriorated over the years. Let me assure you the British press is vastly better behaved and disciplined than when I started in newspapers in the seventies. Then much of its behaviour was outrageous.

It was not uncommon for reporters to steal photographs from homes. Blatant subterfuge was commonly used. There were no restraints on invasions of privacy. Harassment was the rule rather than the exception.

The PCC has changed the very culture of Fleet Street. The editor's code of conduct imbues every decision made by news desks and back benches. When a photograph is presented, the question is immediately asked: did the subject of the picture have a reasonable expectation of privacy? In stories, executives question whether the privacy of the person's family or health is being invaded and whether their children are being protected. Were we harassing people? Was there a danger of, say, inciting copy-cat suicides? No, the newspaper industry is indisputably much better behaved than it was twenty years ago and to deny it is frankly churlish.

Myth Two is that the phone hacking scandal means that self-regulation doesn't work. I think that's very unfair. Yes, the PCC was naïve but its main mistake was failing to communicate the fact that phone hacking is blatantly illegal. It is against the law and no regulator can set itself above the law. The truth is the police should have investigated this crime properly and prosecuted the perpetrators. If phone hacking results in the abolition of the PCC, then logically it should result in the abolition of the police and the CPS. Should we end the jury system because of major miscarriages of justice?

And let's quickly debunk the other myths: Editors sit in judgement on themselves: They don't. They leave the room when any complaint against their paper or group is discussed. News International controls the PCC: In fact, NI has not had a member on the commission since 2007. Editors dominate the PCC: They don't – they are in a minority of ten to seven and I tell you as one who sat on the commission for many years, editors were often far more critical of newspaper malpractice than the lay members. Editors regard adjudications as a slap on the wrist: They certainly don't. They are genuine sanctions. I, and other editors, regard being obliged to publish an adjudication as a real act of shame.

OK, enough of being defensive. The truth is we are where we are. The perception is that the PCC is broken. It needs to be reformed if it is to regain trust, so may I make several suggestions.

Firstly, it is vital that the good work of the PCC, helping vulnerable people obtain protection and redress, without compromising freedom of expression, is not lost. Any reformed system of self-regulation will have to cover the current work of the PCC: dealing with complaints against the whole of the press and producing swift results, offering pre-publication advice to complainants; preventing possible harassment by journalists and broadcasters; giving guidance to editors to help with ethical dilemmas; training journalists; and using a body of case law that has set standards and understanding. It will have to do so without governmental interference. It will have to do so with the collaboration of the industry. It will have to do so in an online environment. It will have to do so efficiently in cost terms. Which is why I believe it would be disastrous for a commission to impose fines. If that were to happen, lawyers would inevitably be used by newspapers resulting in the end of quick and free PCC justice.

Secondly, while I abhor statutory controls, there's one area where Parliament can help the press. Some way must be found to compel all newspaper owners to fund and participate in self-regulation.

God knows, the industry fought hard enough to prevent it, but the Express Group's decision to leave the PCC was a body blow to the commission. How can you have self-regulation when a major newspaper group unilaterally withdraws from it?

But let's not forget that it was the political class in the form of the Blair Government –in the risible belief that he'd turn the Express Labour – which decided that Richard Desmond, the businessman who'd made his money from porn, was a fit and proper person to own a newspaper. And it was OFCOM, itself a statutory regulator, which recently judged Mr Desmond a fit person to buy Channel 5 – this AFTER he'd quit the PCC, effectively holing self-regulation below the line.

Thirdly, I believe corrections must be given more prominence. As from next week, the Daily Mail, the Mail on Sunday and Metro will introduce a "Corrections and Clarifications" column on page two of these papers.

Fourthly, the Editors' code Committee which, in fact, is already attended by the PCC's Chairman and Director – both representing the commission's lay members – should include some lay members actually on the committee. Indeed, I note with some pride, that the Editors' code, which has changed forty times in the last twenty years, is rarely if ever criticised. We have nothing to fear and possibly much to gain from responsible lay participation in our deliberations and possibly some form of pubic consultation over changes to the code.

The number of lay members on the commission should, incidentally, not be increased. They form the largest lay majority of any Press Council in Europe. Lawyers sit in judgement on lawyers as do doctors on doctors. You need editors on the commission so that they can explain the practicalities of news gathering to the lay members. You also need them to buy into the system and learn from the concerns of those lay members.

And lastly I believe the time has come to debate the need for some kind of Newspaper Industry Ombudsman – possibly sitting in tandem with the commission – to deal specifically with press standards.

The commission should continue to do what it does well: resolve complaints, issue adjudications and impose the code.

An Ombudsman – possibly a retired judge or civil servant, and possibly advised by two retired editors from both ends of newspaper spectrum – could have the power to investigate, possibly with specialists co-opted onto his panel, potential press industry scandals.

The Ombudsman could also have the power to summon journalists and Editors to give evidence, to name offenders and, if necessary, – in the cases of the most extreme malfeasance – to impose fines. On the principle of "polluter pays" offending media groups could, within reason, be forced to carry the costs of any investigation affecting their newspapers.

Now I'm well aware that these proposals provoke thousands of questions – not least as to how such appointments are to be made – but I believe the debate over them should start now.

My greatest concern, however, – and it's a very real one – is that any future reforms must take into consideration the needs and commercial realities of ALL newspapers, the provincial press, mass-selling red tops, as well as loss-making broadsheets.

Indeed, we should not be blind to the irony that the most virulent criticism of self-regulation comes from papers that lose eye watering amounts of money and which are subsidised either by trusts or Russian billionaires. I do not deprecate these papers. They are brilliant. But they are also, I would suggest, freed from the compulsion to connect with enough readers to be financially viable and the constraints of having to operate in the real world."

Only connect" said E.M. Forster and in that real world, Britain's free commercially viable mass selling newspapers have to use great skills to connect with their millions of readers.

They leaven their papers with sensation, exclusive pictures, scandal, celebrity gossip and dramatic human stories while still devoting considerable space to serious news, politics and campaigns that reflect their readers' aspirations and anxieties.

In the coming weeks, I suspect we will hear much about those old chestnuts – the public interest and what interests the public. This inquiry will doubtless devote many hours to debating the almost terminal tension between the right to privacy and the public's right to know.

My own view is that as long as the code is observed and no law is broken, papers should be free to publish what they believe is best for their markets.

And anyway, who should decide what interests the public – or where the public interest really lies? Judges? Politicians? Is that what Britain really wants.

The Mail, of course, which has more quality readers than The Times and Telegraph put together, has feet in both the broadsheet and tabloid camps.

The problem is Britain's liberal class – the people who know best and who really run this country – by and large hate all the popular press. After all, the red tops can be vulgar, irreverent, outrageous and even malign. They also represent the views of millions of ordinary Britons. On the Euro and immigration, these papers scornfully reject the nostrums of the people who know best.

My worry is that this liberal hatred of mass selling papers has transmogrified into a hatred of self-regulation itself and I would ask the inquiry to be aware of this bias.

The Hampstead liberal with his gilded life-style understandably enjoys the Guardian – a paper that deals with serious issues. But does he or a judge have any right to deny someone who works ten hours a day in a Sunderland call centre and lives for football, the right to buy a paper that reveals the sexual peccadilloes of one of his team's millionaire married players – a player who uses his celebrity to sell products to him and his children.

And at this point, it would be useful to deal with two canards about regulation.

The first is that independent regulation would be superior to self-regulation. The question, of course, is who choses these "independent" regulators … Who will guard the guards themselves?

Take OFCOM, the so-called independent media regulator. Its chief executive was a close Labour adviser who helped write the Party's 2001 manifesto. Its first chairman – albeit a brilliant man – was a Labour party donor. And with an annual budget of £115 million – compared to the PCC's £2 million budget – it receives millions of pounds in government support.

And the second canard is that other forms of media have superior regulatory systems.

But consider this. Terrestrial TV and radio, which have a legal obligation to be impartial, rely on an airwave spectrum which can be taken away by politicians. Satellite TV is effectively controlled by Rupert Murdoch. The BBC relies for its existence on a government imposed poll tax. And if any evidence is needed of how politicians can bully the BBC, look at the way Alistair Campbell assaulted the corporation after the death of David Kelly and the subsequent defenestration of the director general.

Indeed, I would argue that Britain's commercially viable free press – because it is in hock to nobody – is the only really free media in this country. Over regulate that press and you put democracy itself in peril.

Don't listen to me. Listen to the judges themselves.

I quote Lord Woolf in a 2002 appeal court judgment on a footballer's dalliance with a lap dancer: "The courts must not ignore the fact that if newspapers do not publish information which the public are interested in, then there will be fewer newspapers published, which will not be in the public interest."

Or Baroness Hale in a 2004 Law Lords case: "One reason why freedom of the press is so important is that we need newspapers to sell in order to ensure that we still have newspapers at all. It may be said that newspapers should be allowed considerable latitude in the intrusions into private grief so that they can maintain circulation and the rest of us can continue to enjoy the variety of newspapers and other mass media which are available in this country."

And self-regulation, I would argue, is at the very heart of a free press. Which is why I profoundly regret that a Prime Minister – who had become too close to News International in general and Andy Coulson and Rebekah Wade in particular – in a pretty cynical act of political expediency has prejudiced the outcome of this inquiry by declaring that the PCC, an institution he'd been committed to only a few weeks previously, was a "failed" body.

It is emphatically not. In a speech last week, Ray Snoddy, the FT's brilliant one-time media commentator, put it perfectly: "Save in one respect – dealing with illegal phone hacking – the PCC is not a failed organisation. It is one that has worked tirelessly to get fast, free redress for those who have been subject to inaccurate or intrusive reporting without reasonable cause and you can actually make a strong case that on the whole press behaviour has improved over the past 20 years."

Over the past month, I have read calls by so-called academic experts for the licensing of journalists and the need for a regulator with supervisory powers over the press, to set and monitor standards and have the right – backed by the force of the law – to conduct spot checks on newspaper offices and seize equipment and evidence.

My own response to these experts is that they should emigrate to Zimbabwe.

Which brings me to the final myth about the PCC – the one that says that Britain is alone in having a press self-regulating system. Au contraire. There are no less than twenty nations in Europe with self-regulating systems – many based on the PCC. There are two exceptions however: France with its draconian privacy laws and pathetic torpid government subsidised press; and Italy which maintains the state licensing of journalists introduced by Mussolini.

No prizes for guessing which nation gave the world paparazzi photographers.

Thank you.

The future for self regulation: A user's perspectiveby Will MoyThe PCC is the wrong place to start talking about self-regulation. Self-regulation should mean just that, journalists and papers upholding high standards themselves. The regulator should be a backstop. The corrections we have obtained have been to unambiguous factual errors. We believe that it should not have been necessary to go to a regulator to get these corrected. As the Code says, papers should correct errors themselves promptly when they are pointed out, but in fact only a couple can be relied upon to do this.

For example, we saw a claim in a Financial Times editorial that we thought was dubious, emailed corrections@ft.com, they checked their source, found they had misinterpreted it, and two days later the story was corrected online and in the paper, conspicuously labelled as a correction at the end of the letters. That’s self-regulation. Equally, other newspapers failing to do that is self-regulation failing.

It’s not just newspapers. Individual journalists can be excellent too. Journalists from both the Guardian and the Daily Mail have replied to correction requests, explained problems and arranged corrections. Both blamed sub-editors for the inaccuracies.

Unfortunately these are exceptional examples. What usually happens is that there is no specific contact for dealing with corrections, we cannot contact the journalist or we get no reply, we get no reply from the newspaper using any contact we can find, so we give up and go to the PCC.

When we do get through some responses are extraordinary. When we asked one political editor to correct something he attacked us for checking his facts rather than joining his cause and told us without any shame: “I know journalists, myself included, are guilty of some wilful acts of inaccuracy.” Such acts are harmful and should be seen as shameful.

We rang one journalist to say there might be a mistake in one of his stories, got as far as mistake when he interrupted with “I stand by my story.” So I asked “would you like to know what we think might be wrong?” “I stand by my story,” he said again, “if you have a problem e-mail my editor.” So we did.

It was a straightforward inaccuracy. To get the big drop in adoptions that the article reported you had to compare two unrelated numbers from two separate tables. I will not speculate on how the paper did that but it took 2 months, 19 emails and many phone calls to get a full response to our complaint. The article was amended online only; a printed correction was never discussed. That is fairly typical of trying to obtain a correction directly from a paper.

What do we conclude from this? Some journalists really care about the standards in the Code. They work at all kinds of papers and they would probably care about those same standards whether the Code existed or not. Some newspapers really care about the Code too. Overall, though, newspapers cannot be trusted to regulate themselves and that is why a regulator is essential.

One part of a self-regulatory system, though, should probably be readers’ editors. If nothing else, it is helpful to have an advertised address for corrections to be addressed to and they have a bit of independence. They are not a panacea. We had one take two months to respond to a complaint once. Another spent a long time saying a correction was not necessary when we knew it was under the Code. We had to go to the PCC to get that story corrected. Nevertheless we see potential for indirect regulation via readers’ editors. The regulator would provide quality control, gather data from them for intelligence-led investigations, and act as a second tier for complaints. This might provide a fairly quick, cheap and informal first tier system, where newspapers bear more of the costs of their own complaints.

It may surprise you to learn that the PCC actually has a much more helpful complaints process than the BBC, even though its effectiveness leaves much to be desired. Some of the things the PCC does well include the ease of making a complaint; acknowledgements; direct contact with human beings, round the clock if necessary; and helpful staff who persist with a complaint until the complainant is satisfied. All these basics are missing at the BBC, where your web form disappears into the ether and in our experience usually doesn’t even get a response.

We weren’t surprised when the House of Lords Communications Committee recently excoriated the BBC complaints process and Jeremy Hunt threatened to hand it over to Ofcom. But it is interesting to note that the PCC isn’t the only system of self-regulation that has been put on notice: the BBC for failures of customer service, the PCC for failures of behaviour by those they regulate, that is, for failures of regulation.

Nonetheless, through the PCC our factchecking has led to corrections in nearly every national newspaper. We have twice had seen newspapers forced to reprint corrections which were not printed with due prominence. We also know of an occasion when PCC complaints staff spent a lot of time writing around independent blogs (for which they are not responsible) to try to get a bad story taken fully out of circulation. PCC staff deserve credit for giving the best service they can with the power they have.

So what is wrong with the PCC? Five things:First. The problem with the Express and Star speaks for itself. We recently factchecked a Daily Express front page that read ‘HOUSE PRICES SET TO SURGE’. They had a briefing from a housing expert which concluded “we believe [house prices] will fall by around 7 per cent.” The Express took one sentence from that briefing which, in isolation, sounded positive and quoted it to support their ‘house price surge’ headline. It is hard to see how that might have been done accidentally and therefore hard to see any point asking the Express to correct it. But the Express of course has walked out of the PCC so there is no comeback at all.

Second. The PCC’s object is essentially to resolve complaints. It should be charged with serving citizens and consumers like Ofcom and upholding the Code. Being almost completely complaint-dependent makes the PCC seem inert. It also ought to have, similarly to other regulators, a duty to promote public confidence in what it regulates.

Third. The user experience is controlled by the newspapers but the complainant has to provide all the energy.

Complaining via the PCC is much like complaining directly to a newspaper, except that correspondence is passed through the PCC. Newspapers—at least some newspapers—still make as few concessions as possible as slowly as possible.

For example, first, they deny any breach. In the next letter, they annotate their cuttings, amend the article online, or offer an unsuitable correction wording. Once you have cleared those hurdles they offer to print the correction the next time they cover the same topic, then in the first 12 pages, the first 6, the first 4… each small step another letter and another argument, usually against a trained lawyer. It is draining.

I would have preferred to give a specific example but the indefensible PCC secrecy rules prevent that.

It should not be the complainant’s job to argue over due prominence. I don’t know how much PCC staff are empowered to step in and determine such things but it’s not enough. This is why the regulator’s job needs to be upholding standards not just resolving complaints because complainants give up, either because it is tiring or because they wrongly think they have got the best offer they can get.

This behaviour probably does not reflect newspapers eager to uphold the spirit of the code. The regulator needs powers to set deadlines for responses and to prevent abuse of its processes. Most important, where serious doubt has been cast on the accuracy of an article, it should be for the newspaper to justify it to the regulator, whether or not a complainant remains involved.

Because of the delays caused by publisher obstruction and its own weaknesses the PCC seems incapable of playing a useful role during election or referendum campaigns. Significant inaccuracies in three papers about the Yes campaign’s financial interest in the result were only corrected at the end of June in two cases and the end of July in one.

This ‘print now, correct much later’ culture is at best a very weak incentive for media outlets to ensure that inadvertent errors have not crept into their reports. At worst it allows newspapers wilfully to distort information. At such a distance from the original inaccuracy, corrections are virtually meaningless as a sanction.

That takes me to my fourth point. The PCC needs effective sanctions for deliberate or repeat offenders and the will to use them. We have just seen a number of newspapers repeat a claim which we spent four months getting corrected earlier this year. It doesn’t enhance your faith in the system.

Fifth. Some of the interpretations of the Code adopted by the Commission ought to be revisited. For example, there is a persistent practice of running stories that are inaccurate with a final or very late paragraph which effectively negates the story. As Ben Goldacre notes these paragraphs “permit a defence against criticism, through the strictest, most rigorous analysis of a piece. But if your interest is informing a reader, they are plainly misleading.” The PCC’s general policy of reading a piece as a whole to determine accuracy is a good one. Being too legalistic about it creates a loophole. Another area for improvement might be creating a thoughtful Code for the difficult area of headlines.

There is plenty of evidence of a wide range of standards among practising journalists. That is the same as any profession. But the baseline is too low and the reactive PCC, despite its high service values, is not equipped to raise it. Users ultimately want high standards, they don’t want to be complaining in the first place. So the PCC or its successor needs more independence, more powers and a slightly different remit.

Will Moy is the Director of Full Fact.

The future for self regulation?by Eve SalomonI have been asked to present to the inquiry about self-regulation. I speak to you as the Chair of two self-regulatory bodies: the Internet Watch Foundation, an organisation set up by the internet industry in 1996 to tackle online indecent images of children, and as chair of the regulatory board of RICS, the professional body for Chartered surveyors. In addition, until earlier this year, I was a Press Complaints Commissioner. But I also have a wider background in regulation: I have been a Gambling Commissioner for 8 years and I worked for three statutory broadcasting regulators, the ITC, Radio Authority, and Ofcom. I was a member of the Better Regulation Task Force and Commission, and I have worked all over the world advising governments on the establishment of broadcasting regulatory frameworks. I confess. I am a regulatory anorak.

So, the first message this regulatory anorak has to give to the Inquiry is that self-regulation, when it works, is far preferable to statutory regulation. Why? Because by its nature it suggests a willingness to comply rather than the begrudging obligation that so often comes with statutory regulation. When it comes to the press, self-regulation is even more important. There are well-rehearsed arguments about potential state interference with freedom of expression, which I don’t need to repeat. But there is another practical reason: if the press feels coerced into regulation it doesn’t want, it will rebel. And it will use the weapon most readily at hand, and which is not available to the regulator – the media. We would end up watching a battle between the armies of the press and the unarmed regulator; the regulator will be slaughtered.

So my second message is: don’t impose a new regulatory arrangement which doesn’t have the support of the press behind it. If you do, I for one will be standing well back when the onslaught hits. I don’t like the sight of blood.

The assumption in the blogosphere seems to be that any new arrangement will have to involve co-regulation. Now, that may indeed be the case, but I don’t like to start by thinking about structural solutions without first identifying what problems we are trying to solve. So let us look at the problems.

I don’t believe the phone hacking scandal represents a failure of self-regulation any more than it represents a failure of the criminal law. As others have said here before me, no amount of regulation will prevent determined criminals.. However, I do think that self-regulation of the press has failed, and the evidence for this is not so much hacking as the withdrawal of Northern & Shell from the PCC without any consequences.

Let me unpick that. Successful self-regulation doesn’t have to be mandatory: there are certainly plenty of kitemark schemes in operation which are successful purely because they differentiate those who are regulated from those who are not. But when it comes to the press, there was no one saying that the value of the Express Newspaper was lower because it was no longer regulated. Why was that? Either because:- Nobody knew it had withdrawn from the PCC; or- Nobody thought compliance with the Editors’ Code made any difference; or- Nobody thought the Express ever followed the Editor’s Code in the first place.

Richard Desmond said he withdrew from the PCC because he didn’t think it represented value for money: he said he did follow the Editors’ Code but could deal with complaints internally for less money. Now, I don’t know whether his calculations were right, but what strikes me as important here is that he saw the PCC as a complaints handling body providing no extra value. And that observation is instructive.

I tend to agree with Desmond’s view. Having sat on the PCC for over 7 years, I believe the PCC does what it does extremely well. But what it does is mediate complaints. It has not been, to my mind, very much of a regulator. What a regulator needs is the power to investigate and to consider behaviour. Although it is important to look at outcomes, the ends – particularly in the case of journalism – do not always justify the means.. A new regulatory settlement has to enable the regulator to set clear guidance on best practice and to investigate against such guidance.

Would Desmond have withdrawn from the PCC even if it had had powers to investigate behaviour? Possibly, yes. And the reasons have to do with what I believe are a failure in the two fundamental characteristics of successful self-regulation.

First, there has to be a good reason to join, either because there is a penalty associated with not joining, or a perceived benefit in being part of the regime. Stick or carrot. Many commentators, especially lawyers and existing statutory regulators, tend to think that self-regulation of the press can only work if there is a genuine threat of statutory regulation, so they want to introduce a statutory backstop through co-regulation. Now, I am a lawyer, and a statutory regulator, so I understand those arguments. But what is missing from the picture is the carrot.

I chair two self-regulatory bodies where the carrot is much stronger than the stick. In the case of the IWF, it is true to say that if we didn’t exist, the State would have to provide the service we do, possibly through the police. No internet company in the world wants to be associated with child sexual abuse content; as soon as they are aware they are hosting it, they take it down. They don’t need a statutory threat in the background to do it. And in the UK, the State doesn’t want to do it, and the police don’t want to find the additional resources to do it. Everybody is more than happy for the IWF to take care of this nasty problem, so we do it.

RICS offers a more useful example for the press. I regulate about 100,000 surveyors in the UK and about 40,000 in the rest of the world. Joining is completely voluntary; unlike with solicitors, you don’t need a practicing certificate from RICS to be a surveyor. Would the State step in if we didn’t exist? I doubt it. But surveyors join – and in such large numbers – because they see a real commercial advantage in doing so. Now, this virtuous circle works because RICS – and our members – have made sure consumers and potential clients know the benefits of using an RICS’ regulated firm.

I lay down a challenge to newspapers: if you want self-regulation, why haven’t you advertised to your readers why reading a regulated newspaper is better than an unregulated one? If RICS can do it without the media resources you have – and on a global scale, then why can’t you? Given the competition faced in the online world, shouldn’t being part of a respected regulatory regime support your brand?

I understand that developing value in regulation will take time, so perhaps it will need some sort of statutory stick to kick start it. I suggest something light touch, and here I take as inspiration a regulatory framework for broadcast, print, film and online content – that I helped devise for Dubai as part of the federal, statutory regime in the UAE.

I would suggest setting basic, high level standards for content in the forthcoming amended Communications Act. Not many standards, just two key ones to apply to all content, namely: adequate protection of minors and a prohibition on hate speech. To this I’d add that when it came to news content, there had to be due accuracy, separation of news from comment, a right of reply, and respect for privacy. Additional requirements for the broadcast media would still apply. I’d then say that news media that were not part of the Press Complaints Commission (or its successor body) would be subject to the rules which applied to the broadcasting sector. That, I believe, would provide regulatory choice – and an incentive for a new version of the PCC to become the preferred regulator.

The second key characteristic is trust. Unlike a statutory regulator, where authority is ascribed, a self-regulator has to earn it. And it has to earn it from its members as well as its external stakeholders.

As a former Commissioner, I never had the feeling that the PCC was particularly trusted by its members. The Editors Code – which I would remind you is not written by the PCC but written by a committee consisting entirely of editors – is valued, and we heard support for it last week from both Trevor Kavanagh and Alan Rusbridger. But not the PCC itself. I think part of the reason is structural and has to do with independence.

I was the first Commissioner appointed through an independent process, rather than selected by a tap on the shoulder. During my tenure, I served alongside Commissioners who had been selected and I think their very presence gave the press the impression that the truly independent Commissioners were an unpredictable force that could do untold damage to press freedom. We weren’t trusted.

There’s also a question of expertise. Other than editors who have climbed the ranks from journalists, there are no working or former journalists on the PCC. There are no academics specialising in journalism or – perhaps particularly important – journalistic ethics. And there are no Commissioners representing a consumer voice. Perhaps this also leads to a lack of trust.

And why should external observers trust the PCC? There may be an ‘independent’ majority (but as I have said, until now not all were independently appointed), but the editors have never been independently appointed. They are selected by the industry itself. This is also a weakness of the IWF which I would also categorise as insufficiently independent. And both could learn from the RICS, where there are 5 surveyors out of 11 on the board, but they have to apply and go through the same independent appointments process as my non-surveyor members. As such, they are seen as individuals who bring to the table their industry expertise, rather than representatives who are elected to bring a particular point of view.

In addition, and unlike either RICS or the IWF, the PCC Chair is appointed by PressBof, paid by PressBof, and can be fired by PressBof. Not much independence there.

As to the future, I’d strongly advise working up an enhanced model of self-regulation, one that will give no doubt to the Richard Desmonds of the world that it is better to be in the self-regulatory tent than out. Statutory nudging would help, but the onus is largely on the industry itself to ensure that it supports and promotes its regulator.

And the regulator must be and be seen to be far more independent than it currently is. It must have the powers to monitor and to investigate conduct, not merely to consider output. It should have the ability and expertise to disseminate best practice and to lead debate. It should genuinely be able to raise standards, not simply deal with complaints. And it should help the press better understand that, whilst freedom of expression is a fundamental human right, our law actually acknowledges 13 other rights which often get forgotten in the newsroom.

Thank you.

What redress should be available for breach of standards?by Professor Steven BarnettI’m conscious even before I start that many in this room won’t like what I have to say, so let me set the context for these remarks with some relevant personal facts.

I have been a paid-up member of the NUJ for nearly 30 years, and I passionately believe in the vital democratic function of journalism and in the principle of free speech.

Under the auspices of the British Council I have taught aspiring and practising journalists from former iron curtain countries who have described – sometimes in harrowing detail – what suppression of truth and fear of speaking out really meant: risking your life to expose electoral fraud or executive corruption or exploitation of power for personal ends.

It did not mean having to suppress the salacious details of some B list celebrity’s divorce. I will come back to that distinction.

I’m not a reporter by training, but I have written for most of the British papers and I love our popular press. It’s vibrant, challenging, brash, feisty and at its best can make a major contribution to public knowledge and a more informed democracy. It takes serious journalistic talent to explain and then denounce quantitative easing in 350 words, and I truly admire the writing skills of Kelvin MacKenzie, Kevin Maguire, Trevor Kavanagh et al.

BUT let’s be clear that this debate is not about tabloid versus broadsheet values. There have been a number of attempts, I suspect deliberate, to muddy the waters and turn this into a referendum on the popular press. It isn't.

This is about amoral, corrosive, malicious, and in some cases corrupt newsroom practices - wherever they happen. It's about promoting acceptable standards of journalism - on every newspaper in the country.

It’s about the trauma and the distress which are inflicted by the worst of those practices, whether the victims be ordinary citizens or public figures.

And it’s about how to stop it ever happening again. Let's celebrate the popular but let's not confuse popularity with unethical and unlawful newsroom practices that have no place in a civilised society.

And let's be clear that these practices are happening. Last week, Richard Peppiatt gave us a vivid account of the unsavoury newsroom environment he had left behind – immediately followed by a chorus of denials from those the floor: “Not in My Newsroom.” “Don't Recognise that Description.” “No idea what you're talking about, guv.”

Well, these practices are rife. They are endemic. And the evidence of what’s happening and the consequences for victims is all around us. It's not just Richard. And it's not just the phone hacking of the widows of terrorist victims and the parents of murdered children.

Read the detailed descriptions of the Dark Arts by Nick Davies, who spoke to over a hundred journalists for his book Flat Earth News and who understands how journalism works.

Look at the evidence collected by Operation Motorman and reported by the Information Commissioner in 2006 who detailed the industrial scale on which private information was being unlawfully bought or blagged by private investigators: bank records, medical records, driving records, tax records, benefits records, police records, all up for grabs if the price was right. 305 named journalists and literally thousands of transactions obtained from the office of one – just one – private investigator.

The victims of this systematic thieving were not just the usual roll-call of celebrity names and members of the royal household, but peripheral figures, relations, neighbours, friends and family: the sister of a well known MP’s partner; the mother of a man once linked romantically to a Big Brother contestant; the decorator who had once worked for a lottery winner; the GP who was door-stepped by a Sunday newspaper in the mistaken belief that he had inherited a large sum from a former patient.

Routine larceny of people’s private information for what were clearly in the vast majority of cases no more than fishing expeditions for a bit of juicy gossip.

Or read the words of Sharon Marshall, a journalist who spent ten years reporting for seven different newspapers and wrote in the preface to her wonderfully revealing book just last year: "rest assured, these stories all happened. These Very Bad Things were done. They still are being done. By tabloid journalists, right now".

She also wrote: "....there is a line between what is and what isn't acceptable, and….. I think we often crossed it….. when thousands of stories are churned out each week, it's easy to lose sight of the impact those stories have on the people involved". And there are plenty of those people.

Like Mary-Ellen Field who was Elle MacPherson’s highly capable and high profile accountant – but was fired by MacPherson when she concluded that Mary-Ellen had to be the source of the highly damaging leaks about her private life.

Or Christopher Jefferies, a perfectly ordinary and law-abiding landlord, pilloried by lazy, incompetent journalists who were desperate to paint him as a plausible murderer. Or the McCanns – as if it wasn’t bad enough to have your daughter kidnapped in a foreign country – subjected to a campaign of vilification, innuendo and straightforward lies.

Or, rather more mundanely, the PR consultant Juliet Shaw who innocently responded to a Daily Mail enquiry for interviews with people who had left the city for a life in the country – then found herself being interrogated about her sex life, and ended up the subject of an article which so grotesquely distorted her private and personal life that she became a laughing stock in her own community.

It was an article that broke every rule of decent journalism, but it took this single mother two years of fighting the intimidating tactics of the Mail’s corporate machine before they finally agreed to settle – without the apology that she really craved. So much for family values. And let’s not forget that there are victims of inaccuracy as well as intrusion.

These are not isolated incidents but flagrant, shameless, cynical and persistent acts of calculated bullying. On the receiving end are the real people whose lives are being turned upside down - in many cases traumatised – by reckless, insensitive, and sometimes unlawful journalistic practices within a profession which for too long has believed itself to be beyond accountability, and in many cases above the law.

And yet still we hear the denials. There is either a conspiracy of silence or there is gross incompetence. Either way, we have to deal with it. How? I propose three interlinked approaches.

First, there has to be serious, punitive sanctions for those organisations which break agreed codes of conduct. Not just damages for victims, but serious fines of six and seven figures, paid to a regulator and commensurate with a company’s turnover and circulation. Big enough, in other words, to act as a genuine deterrent against further breaches, and to ensure that codes of conduct are taken seriously and are properly entrenched in newsroom culture.

It works in television. And I defy anyone to argue that our television journalists operate within some Stalinist regime of state censorship.

Second, we have to get serious about regulation. I endorse the view that we don’t want statutory regulation as the first resort. As Richard Thomas said, there is a spectrum of options.

There is no reason why frontline regulation could not be administered by an independent body selected from within the industry, with people who understand the importance of maintaining high professional standards as well as the importance of safeguarding freedom of expression: an active self-regulator of the press but not in thrall to it, which both sides in a dispute can trust and rely on.

But self-regulation on its own won’t work. We’ve tried it – and those who insist we haven’t really tried it have forgotten the promises made to the Calcutt committee over 20 years ago after equally flagrant breaches of ethical standards in the 1980s.

Proprietors and editors prostrated themselves before Calcutt and swore blind that this time it would be different. Yes, they said, we have sinned but please allow us one more chance to get self-regulation right. One final drink, as the minister David Mellor put it, in the last chance saloon. One of those who pleaded for a final chance was Rupert Murdoch. It was probably the second most humble day of his life.

So the press were given their last orders and they have wantonly chucked it all over the pub. We have to make sure that this time, promises for self-improvement are set in stone.

So behind the frontline self-regulator we need a backstop body given powers by Parliament that invests self-regulation with real teeth and creates proper accountability. We have a perfectly good working model with solicitors, who were also dragged reluctantly into the brave new world of accountability: the Solicitors Regulation Authority, an entirely self-regulatory body invested with the power to impose unlimited fines, is backed in law by an independent Legal Services Board.

If you want to give this new system a name, I would call it accountable self-regulation. And frankly if the industry means what it says about reform, it really has nothing to fear from an independent body democratically appointed, which is simply making sure that this time the press delivers its promises.

Some of the new regulator’s powers, backed by law, have already been canvassed this morning: to insist on the right to correction with equal prominence; to carry out proactive and thorough investigations into alleged abuses of professional standards; to levy fines; to appoint an independent ombudsman; and to ensure that no major publisher can just walk away from proper independent scrutiny.

And the third approach would be a public interest test, defined by Parliament, which actually promotes real press freedom – freedom to act as watchdog and hold power to account. It would allow any techniques, perhaps even phone hacking, if they were genuinely designed to root out corruption, expose incompetence or malpractice in public office, or expose hypocrisy by public figures.

But it would exclude those purely salacious stories that gratuitously invade the private lives of public figures for no other reason than that they are they are in the public eye. In other words, it would explicitly underwrite section 8 of the HRA as applying as much to public figures as ordinary citizens.

The justification should be self-explanatory: why on earth should we be entitled to read about the intimate details of celebrity divorce cases, the misdemeanours of their children, their personal embarrassments or their private sex lives simply because they are high achievers or high earners?

We all love gossip, but we are not entitled to gatecrash the lives of talented and gifted actors, athletes, entrepreneurs, artists, architects, dancers or even politicians just because they excel at what they do. In other words the public interest test would cement in law the principle that public figures are entitled to private lives, and that what they do in their own homes, as long as it doesn’t involve coercion, exploitation or abuse of power, is entirely their own business.

Those who protest that this would chill good journalism have actually got it the wrong way round. These measures would positively liberate good journalism, as well as protecting hundreds of innocent victims from the gross intrusions and distortions that have become almost commonplace. And it would liberate journalists from newsroom practices which the vast majority frankly find abhorrent. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to promote and protect the best of all journalism, whether popular or serious. And if we screw it up this time, it will be gone for good.

Thank-you.

Is there a difference between the public interest and the interest of the public? What questions does this raise in relation to a single set of journalistic ethics?by Trevor KavanaghMy starting point is that everything under the sun is of interest to the public, from a local fete to a sex-and-lies political scandal or the secret location of a nuclear device.

One may be simply interesting, while the others bump up against the sometimes contentious definition of “the public interest”.

Frequently, the latter are stories someone wants to conceal but are too big to hide.

The distinction in any case is subjective. All news should – with certain exceptions to which I will return in a moment – be judged on the public’s all-encompassing right to know.

The only point at which the two definitions collide is when a story is deemed NOT to be in the public interest and therefore not for the eyes of ordinary folk. Another word for this is censorship.

Freedom of speech is a hard-won, centuries-old legal principle which did not arrive in the last shower with the Human Rights Act. It is, by its nature, in the public interest.

It is a freedom that, on occasions, has been abused and misused - sometimes, but not always, by the media. It remains one of the foundation stones of democracy and is enshrined as such in the American Constitution.

The public interest could be narrowly defined by judges or it could and should be as wide as possible. Without free speech we cannot have a free society. Once lost, it would be almost impossible to restore.

As with any legal principle, exceptions should be narrowly and clearly construed.

In the United States, for instance, one is not allowed to shout “FIRE” in a crowded theatre.

Apart from such carefully defined exceptions, everything else is permissible, even when considered in bad taste.

Without such freedom, would we have known about President Clinton’s interesting relationship with Monica Lewinsky - surely as much a matter of public interest as the President’s intimate but routinely-published medical reports?

But for circumstances beyond the control of their own supine media, would the French public have learned about the conduct of Dominic Strauss-Kahn, widely known to the “chattering classes” but deemed unsuitable for those who might have been asked to elect him President.

The French people are a little cross about being kept in the dark by establishment Omerta, and the embarrassed French media is now shuffling all too slowly towards acting more in their interest than in the interest of public officials.

In Britain, there is a number of those narrowly construed exceptions laid down by the Press Complaints Commission in its code of conduct, for instance on the identity of children or incitement to hatred.

The PCC has clear rules on stories involving infidelity, impropriety and invasion of privacy.

But it is surely in the public interest that we all should have access to the information available to assess the character of our national figures.

If people seeking our votes - or our cash for, say, personalised football shirts - it is surely right that we should know if they are masquerading as something they are not.

Editors, sub-editors and reporters know the PCC rules by heart and do everything possible to observe them, while getting as close as possible to a story that deserves to be told.

Sometimes, they make mistakes. But, considering the number of stories and the number of editions, not that many. We have a come a long way since those 1980s frontier days when caution was sometimes thrown to the wind.

However, these comparatively clear waters have been muddied by the arbitrary interpretation, some would say misinterpretation, of two articles of the Human Rights Act - the Right to a Private Life and the Right to Free Expression.

Increasingly, it seems, one is deemed to trump the other.

So it was refreshing last week to see this remorseless trend halted, even briefly, when Mr Justice Nicol rejected womaniser Rio Ferdinand’s attempt to gag and punish the Sunday Mirror for its “kiss and tell” exclusive about his infidelities.

To any sensible reader, this story about the captain of the nation’s football team was as much in the public interest as it was of interest to sports fans.

Yet the judge admitted he had been forced to “grapple with the tension” between the two clashing Articles, 8 and 10, of the European Convention on Human Rights.

With what seemed like some reluctance, he ruled in favour of free speech and against Ferdinand’s “false” account.

There was the hint of disdain towards tabloid newspapers generally, not just for unseemly “kiss-and-tell” stories, but for the “kiss-and-SELL”.

Yet, as I will argue later, news is as saleable a commodity as any other. Newspapers are commercial, competitive businesses, not a public service.

Judge Nicol’s verdict will have delighted all newspaper editors, even those at The Guardian and Independent who seem perpetually to be holding their noses.

It was, I hope, a turning point for everyone who believes freedom of the press is being deliberately and systematically eroded. I have been asked to pose some questions for subsequent debate. Here’s one: Should perverse rulings be allowed incrementally to lay the ground for an irreversible privacy law introduced by unelected, unaccountable and in some cases unqualified “judges” who do not represent this country, its people or its customs, still less the public interest?

Should these judges, not editors or their readers, decide whether a story is sufficiently interesting enough to be in the public interest?

And should these arbitrary rulings be bolstered by super-injunctions imposed behind closed doors on the basis of an secretive interpretation of human rights?

Since many British politicians seem prepared to stand by and allow this process to flourish, everyone at this inquiry who supports freedom of speech should ask themselves why?

Why, for instance, have Conservatives reneged on their election promise to replace the perverse Human Rights Act with our own Bill of Rights? Coalition with the Liberal Democrats is not an acceptable excuse.

So, unaccountable and unknown non-British officials in Strasbourg determine what is in Britain’s public interest and what should or should not be of interest to the British public.

Lord Justice Leveson will not need me to remind him of Lord Hoffman’s scathing criticism of the Strasbourg judges, but other members of this inquiry may wish to re-read his lecture to fellow judges on on the Judicial Studies Board in 2009.

He said the European court “has been unable to resist the temptation to aggrandise its jurisdiction and to impose uniform rules on Member States. It considers itself the equivalent of the Supreme Court of the United States, laying down a federal law of Europe.”

He went on: “There is virtually no aspect of our legal system … which is not arguably touched at some point by human rights. But we have not surrendered our sovereignty over all these matters. We remain an independent nation with its own legal system, evolved over centuries of constitutional struggle and pragmatic change.

“Detailed decisions about how it could be improved should be made in London, either by our democratic institutions or by judicial bodies which, like the Supreme Court of the United States, are integral with our own society and respected as such.”

Now, in what can only be interpreted as a further cloud over freedom of speech, we have this inquiry by Lord Leveson to examine the “culture, practices and ethics of the press”. It is difficult to avoid the fear that this will conclude without further limits on freedom of speech.

It is hard to escape the impression that it is out to “get” the tabloids, implicitly seen as uncultured, malpractised and unethical.

In the debate to follow, one question worth considering why nobody with tabloid experience, representing the overwhelming majority of readers and sales, is on this panel? Could it be that at least some of those scrutinising our activities are covertly, if not overtly, hostile to everything we stand for?

Am I paranoid in wondering if I was invited as an acceptable face of a form of journalism which is otherwise concealed in the pale pink pages of the Financial Times, or worse from our commercial perspective, borrowed from someone else to keep up with the news millions pay to read.

In any event, I would like to use this opportunity to plead on behalf of the tabloids and those who work for them.

Having been with The Sun for 30 years, 23 of them as Political Editor, I wish record my admiration for the sheer professionalism of gifted colleagues both at Wapping and among our rivals on other tabloids.

They include the finest creative professionals in the business, reporters, sub-editors and editors, men and women who could adapt just as successfully to any other paper. The reverse is not always the case.

It is the tabloids that drive the daily news agenda.

The Sun, for instance, has continuously broken major world exclusives politics, sport, the monarchy and the City which are not just interesting but in the public interest.

They are followed almost without question by the broadsheets and the BBC.

In the today’s climate, a great many of those stories would never see the light of day. The nation would be all the poorer.

The popular press ventures where unpopular newspapers sometimes fear to tread. We don’t always play by THEIR rules.

So, The Guardian for instance might plant a juicy clue in a diary item, knowing we would follow it up and do the job properly.

Once we had checked it out and published the full story they are too timid to run, they condemn us while simultaneously reproducing every salacious word.

We should not allow the so-called public interest to mask one of the motives behind the latest opprobrium towards the tabloids. We fully accept responsibility for the shocking past practices that led to the closure of a great newspaper. But there is a commercial imperative at work here as well as a moral or legal one.

The great sin of the popular press is to be … popular. Our lighter, brighter papers are commercially successful. We have 20 million readers – perhaps ten times as many as the “heavies”.

To their irritation, they have been obliged to imitate our lively style in order to keep in the game.

Our headlines are part of the vernacular. During last week’s heatwave, even the BBC Today programme was using “What a Scorcher”.

But without doubts our most enduring contribution to the public interest has been the subject of Europe.

The Sun led the way on what today is the biggest story of this century. It is no exaggeration to claim that without us, we would almost certainly have given up the Pound and joined the euro. Without The Sun, there would have been no promise of a referendum.

In the public interest, we invaded Belgium, Bawled at Gaul and told the architect of the single currency: “Up Yours Delors”.

We were condemned then as Little Englanders, “phobes and sceptics”. Today, not for the first time, we have been proved right.

Could we wage that sort of campaign today? I’m not sure. There have been moves in Brussels to make it illegal to write disparagingly about the Grand Project, and indeed ex-Commissioners put their pensions at risk if they make adverse comments about its endeavours. That is freedom of speech, Brussels-style, as embodied by the European Court of Human Rights.

Let me return to the issue of “kiss and sell”.

We have been condemned for cheque-book journalism. Yet the best story in recent years - Mps expenses - was bought and paid for by the Daily Telegraph, not by a tabloid.

Would Human Rights judges have stopped it being published if MPs had got wind of it early enough? And would that have been in the public interest?

Publishing news is not a public service. It is a ferociously competitive industry in a rapidly shrinking market.

But we do provide a public service. We turn complex subjects – politics, commerce, war - into crisp easily-understood copy.

The Sun’s Books for Schools have been a boon for literacy. Professor Brian Cox is encouraging a whole new Sun generation of young scientists. We are proud of the way Help for Heroes and the Millie awards have transformed the image of our armed forces who today march home with their heads held high from the battle fields of Iraq and Afghanistan.

Our jobs campaign – Sunemployment – has found work for tens of thousands of our readers.

Yes, we do make mistakes. But I can testify we do everything possible - and sometimes perhaps too much - to avoid them. When we get it wrong, we apologise as quickly as possible.

I say all this not just to blow the tabloid trumpet, but to paint a picture of a vibrant and dynamic industry which despite all its flaws is a force for good.

It continues to flourish despite some of the world’s toughest libel laws.

Journalists contend with secretive super-injunctions, an abuse of judicial power.

Information is power. And local and national government, councils and qangos, go to great lengths to keep information to themselves, even when - especially when - it is in the public interest.

Tony Blair described Labour’s Freedom of Information Act as his greatest mistake. But even the doors opened by this legislation are being slammed shut by politicians and others who know how to get round it.

Much government business is now conducted not on traceable paper but through email and mobile phone calls, on the hoof.

The losers are not just diligent journalists but Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition and the civil servants who find legitimate “usual channels” blocked.

The biggest loser of all, if we go further down the road of regulation, is the British public.

When dealing with politicians it is worth remembering Jeremy Paxman’s famous mantra: "Why is this lying bastard lying to me?”

It’s a crude question, but it is the right point to start.

Gagging the media on the pretext of the public interest is one way to ensure the public never learns the answer.

What is the day-to-day effect of competitive pressures on working journalists?by Richard PeppiattSince receiving your invite I’ve spoken to many journalists to get their perspectives on the question you’ve asked of me. I thank you for this opportunity, and I am grateful I'm in a position to speak openly about the concerns which many of those in the industry feel, yet are unable to publicly discuss.

Perhaps I state the obvious to say a truth-telling function is intrinsic to any concept of journalism. Yet one thing I learnt early on in my career was that telling the truth and not lying are distinct concepts - you can make true statements about events and issues without ever orbiting near a true account of what’s occurred. In approximately 900 newspaper bylines I can probably count on fingers and toes the times I felt I was genuinely telling the truth, yet only a similar number could be classed as outright lies. This is because as much as the skill of a journalist today is about finding facts, it is also, particularly at the tabloid end of the market, about knowing what facts to ignore. The job is about making the facts fit the story, because the story is almost pre-defined. Laid out before you is a canon of ideologically and commercially driven narratives that must be adhered to. The newspaper appoints itself moral arbiter, and it is your job to stamp their worldview on all the journalism you do. If a scientist announces their research has found ecstasy to be safer than alcohol, as a tabloid reporter I know my job is to portray this man as a quack, and his methods flawed. If a judge passes down a community sentence to a controversial offender, I know my job is to make them appear lily-livered and out-of-touch. Positive peer reviews are ignored; sentencing guidelines are buried. The ideological imperative comes before the journalistic one - drugs are always bad, British justice is always soft.

This ideological imperative is bound to a commercial one, founded on one main premise: It is easier to sell people something that reinforces their beliefs and prejudices than to sell something that challenges them. Your success as a reporter is determined by how well you apply this philosophy to your news judgements. Pitch a story to your newsdesk about a peace conference in Wembley attended by thousands of Muslims, you’ll likely get more sneers than you will paragraphs in print. Pitch a story about three Muslim men shouting “death to infidels” outside a courtroom, you’ll likely be brought a pint and given the front page. But typically news stories are passed down the chain of command rather than up, with reporters being assigned stories by their editors. It is here that many of the worst journalistic and ethical failures occur. News editors, keen to appease their superiors with eye-catching news lists, dump the onus on reporters to stand-up their fantastical hunches and ill-informed assertions. The question is not: “Do you have a story on X?” It is “Today we are saying this has happened to X - make it appear so.”

The ugliest manifestation of this culture comes when a big story breaks: Think Madeleine McCann, Joanna Yates or Rebecca Leighton. News editors, sitting hundreds of miles away, put reporters under immense pressure to outdo rivals with sales-boosting exclusives. They whip-up a feeding frenzy atmosphere around crimes in which any information, however unverified, becomes fervently seized on, in which victims families are hounded day and night for quotes, and in which suspects become tried in newsprint before they’ve even stepped foot in a police interview room.

If the PCC claim they have reigned in many of these excesses, they must have been watching over the wrong Fleet Street. If editors really had no idea that the life-wrecking stories about the likes of Robert Murat and Chris Jefferies they printed were grossly defamatory then reporters' heads would roll. They don't because there exists an unspoken contract between tabloid newspaper and reporter; you tell us what we want to hear, and we won’t enquire too much of veracity or methods. If there’s any come back, we’ll protect you. It is a code of omerta, and if you want to get on, you abide by it.

This is where the PCC has not only failed the public, but journalists too. The majority of reporters aren’t comfortable with constantly walking the conceptual tightrope between telling the truth and lying, and certainly not with breaking the law. But when the PCC won’t even enforce the first section of their code - “The press must take care not to publish inaccurate, misleading or distorted information” – is it any surprise that newspapers push the boundaries, hacking phones, bribing police, pursuing their own commercial and ideological aims under the cloak of journalism, with reporters used as the foot soldiers?

Newspapers are in decline, and the job pool for journalists ever shrinking. Those entering the industry can spend years working on a casual basis, lacking the security of an employment contract. Tabloid newsrooms are often bullying and aggressive environments, in which dissent is simply not tolerated. It is difficult to stand up and walk out the door with a mortgage to pay, knowing another opportunity is unlikely to be waiting beyond.

I am not attempting to absolve myself, or others, of personal responsibility for our actions, only to contextualise them. Journalists aren’t, for the most part, bad people. But, like all humans, they adjust to their environment, and, like in all competitive industries, those who adjust best, go furthest. Do it long enough you’ll even start to forget that the framework in which you operate is intrinsically corrupted and dishonest.

There is no better example of the current cynical approach to journalism than my former employer the Daily Star, and their sister Express titles. Few would disagree that beneath their masthead has occurred some of the worst journalism of recent years. The xenophobia, the misleading front pages and endemic cross-promotion have set a new low bar for the industry, with papers such as the Daily Mail increasingly stooping to join them. The Daily Star does not have the worst journalists, but Richard Desmond’s chronic under-investment in journalism has allowed a corrosive culture to fester. I remember one shift there being just myself and two other reporters to write the whole of a national newspaper. It was so bad we had to use pseudonyms to make it appear there were more of us. In such an environment, proper journalistic rigor is impossible.

News priorities are being warped to keep pace with the changing media landscape, and this is radically transforming the required skill sets of the trade. Instead of being balanced, the demand is to be partial and provocative. Instead of being accurate, the demand is to be first. Earlier this week the Daily Mail publishing reaction from the Amanda Knox trial which included quotes from prosecutors and courtroom colour after her appeal was rejected. Except, of course, her appeal was granted. In desperation to be first off the grid they'd simply made it up. This was not showbiz gossip - this was a murder case. Nor was this the behaviour of a rogue reporter, but a decision taken by news executives. Instead of publishing journalism, they knowingly chose to publish fiction.

Capitalism is trampling on journalism. Cold calculation are made: It makes no commercial sense to have your reporters spend a week investigating a genuine, public interest story when they can fill ten times that space cannibalising from rivals and newswires. It makes no commercial sense to have your reporters writing about someone else’s products, or TV shows, when you can get free advertising from them writing about your own. It makes no commercial sense not to use your journalists to dig up dirt on people you don’t like, and to promote the people you do. But the people caught in the crossfire of this cynical approach are the millions of readers who buy tabloid newspapers every day in good faith, unaware of the commercial and ideological agendas which are shaping what they read. Instead of being told the truth they deserve, they are being told whatever it suits newspapers to let them know.

As much as I resigned from the Daily Star because I’d come to believe it was Islamophobic, my conscience was troubled by another, even more sinister, realisation; their hate mongering wasn’t genuine. It was a crude, morally deplorable play on the politics of fear in the pursuit of profit. They may be the worst offenders, but they are far from alone.

Beyond the headline grabbing revelations of phone hacking, this is the ethical rot that I urge you to consider Lord Leveson, because it undermines real journalism, it perverts social debate, it divides communities. It makes victims of The Many, by exploiting both public and journalist, to line the pockets of The Few.

How does the press today operate in a competitive environment? What are the pressures facing editors?by Phil HallTen minutes is not a great deal of time to discuss the complex nature of a newsroom and thus the pressure it brings to journalists, so I am going to get straight to the point.

When I started in this industry nearly 40 years ago there was pressure – it was mostly of a competitive nature because newspapers were vying for readers in markets where many publications were neck and neck in terms of their circulation figures..When I became editor of the News of the World in 1995 the landscape had changed. That newspaper was selling 4.7 million copies and in my first conversation with Rupert Murdoch he asked what I expected to sell in five years time. I optimistically and maybe naively suggested 5 million.

His response was: “You will be selling 4 million or maybe 4.1.”

He knew full well the circulation trends of the newspapers and what he did in that conversation was to explain that there was no pressure to achieve the unachievable, the pressure was to deliver a great, campaigning newspaper.

A 20 per cent circulation fall will mean staff reductions and budget cuts, but it does not mean editors can justify a 20 per cent drop in quality of the newspaper. That would be a circular argument that could only end with the demise of the newspaper. So it is true pressure has increased as circulations dwindle.

Fifteen years ago national newspapers, with one or two exceptions, owned their own markets. The News of the World was so dominant its circulation figures were the same as its two main rivals put together; The Mail group was equally pre-eminent, likewise the Sunday Times. It was therefore not expedient to look for sensational stories purely to win a circulation war.

We were fortunate during my editorship to publish many ground-breaking stories with investigations into subjects as far ranging as gun-running, paedophilia, drug racketeers and illegal immigration gangs. Many of them ended with jail sentences. We campaigned over miscarriages of justice and solved an unsolved murder.

There are great competitive pressures, of course, to produce the best possible newspapers but there are also significant challenges to getting it right because of the libel laws, being fair because of the PCC code of conduct and justifying publication because of the human rights/privacy rulings. The publish and be damned attitude has long been confined to the history books of Fleet Street.

I am sure the public believe big stories deliver big circulation increases and thus editors are under pressure to deliver a major scoop on a weekly if not daily basis.

That is a simplistic view and is not the case. Some of our biggest stories – the Jeffery Archer case for example – delivered no increase in sales.

In my opinion what sold the News of the World was the strength of the package – the sport, the columnists, the features and more than anything understanding its market and delivering what that readership demanded. Yes we broke big stories, but it was not the be all and end all of our operation.

The pressures are nothing more than personal, professional pride. There were no bonuses or proprietary pressure to push the boundaries beyond what is reasonable.

But as an editor I did demand high standards and I did expect journalists to produce agenda setting stories, but is that any different to a business leader in any other industry? I don’t think so and those who suggest and imply that phone hacking has arisen because of the pressures to deliver big stories are in my view wrong.

It has happened because a group of people have indulged in illegal activity and the checks and balances that should be in place in any news-room – or any business for that matter – have failed. I sincerely hope we will discover why by the end of the Lord Leveson inquiry.

I think it relevant to point out that editors do have different pressures now to those I experienced.

A media lawyer working at a newspaper told me recently he spent a huge proportion of his time dealing with issues around the Human Rights Act, in particular privacy issues. Many have used that Act to try to protect themselves from perfectly ethical investigations operated by tabloid and broadsheet papers alike.

A news editor of my acquaintance claimed he would speak to the Press Complaints Commission two or three times a week to discuss issues around what is in the public interest.

And it is confusing. Editors have long argued that it is in the public interest to reveal the truth about misbehaving celebrities who present one image to the public but in reality behave in a completely different way.

For some years privacy actions have blocked the publication of such stories.

Yet only last week a judge ruled that the footballer Rio Ferdinand does have a duty to be consistent with the public image he presents and the way he behaves behind closed doors.

This confusion over what is in the public interest clearly puts a great deal of pressure on editors, particularly when they are working to tight deadlines, with dwindling resources in an age when advertising revenues are challenging.

What is in the public interest is one of the fundamental issues that the Leveson inquiry needs to address.

Inevitably the internet increases the pressure on a newspaper to be more creative and forward thinking in order to compete with the instant news platforms. But is it any more pressure than 40 years ago? In my view it is different, not greater.

It does however increase the pressure to get it right because the public, celebrities, almost anyone, can respond instantly through social media and have that complaint taken up around the world.

Clearly we are here because of the wider view that somehow the newspaper industry is broken, it needs fixing. I don’t think it needs fixing, I do think it needs changing.

The Press Complaints Commission has never been a regulatory body in my view. It is a watchdog and if it has made one fundamental error it is that it has become invisible. It does do a great deal of positive work.

As the chairman of a PR company I regularly speak to the PCC when a client feels he or she is being treated wrongly by the Press.

In 90 per cent of the cases where the PCC have intervened, a story has been abandoned or a compromise negotiated.

It works in preventing the publication of inaccurate, intrusive stories or pictures gathered in an improper way. And it is my view it should be allowed to pro-actively investigate the behaviour of the media in big news stories, like the disappearance of Madeleine McCann.

I believe another pressure is the inconsistencies of the law that affects journalism. When Princess Diana was front page news editors in this country were constantly being asked to refrain from publishing photographs, while their colleagues around the globe were free to do as they wished.

Some editors followed and produced less attractive newspapers, others ignored it.

The curious aspect of this situation is that Princess Diana was surrounded by bodyguards and yet the paparazzi that pursued her were not arrested for harassment nor for endangering her life through dangerous driving.

And yet the Palace complained about how the pursuit of the Princess was over-zealous. Editors should clearly have shown more restraint, but why did the authorities not use the tools available to them to tackle the problem through the proper use of the law? I believe it would have stopped the practise overnight.

Likewise The Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act 2000 that governs phone hacking, are the sanctions for breaching it consistent with the public revulsion shown over the Millie Dowler affair? I doubt it. But isn’t this a police matter rather than a press regulation matter? Staff should not break the law whatever industry they are in, full stop.

Why are private detectives who are used by law firms, financial institutions and newspapers not licensed when they work in such sensitive areas?

When I started 40 years ago the news agenda in this country was largely provided by news agencies. As newspapers reduced their budgets, local papers folded and news agencies went out of business, the pool of stories was considerably reduced. That, of course, is a pressure for editors and news gatherers.

But in my experience there has been a benefit of the pressure to compete over fewer stories. To secure an exclusive story more than ever editors allow the subjects of their stories to “approve” the account before publication. That does not mean they can control the story but it does mean they can challenge inaccuracies and ensure absolute probity when they are quoted in an article.

I know there is a danger that as a former editor I can be accused of looking at The Press through rose tinted glasses. Let me make it clear that as a Public Relations operator I am very much on the other side of the fence. Poacher turned gamekeeper they say.

But my experience is that 99 per cent of journalists do act professionally, they are impartial, thorough and work within the PCC code of conduct and a vast majority of stories are accurate.

Are journalists sometimes rude, aggressive, and unreasonable? Of course they are, but I have absolutely no idea how we can legislate against human nature.

One thing is clear; it is not possible to set up a truly independent regulatory authority appointed by the Government.

If a newspaper were to criticise a Government minister over a misdemeanour and he or she complained to the new regulatory authority and they found against the newspaper, will the public truly believe that body has been impartial?

It will inevitably increase the pressures on editors to give Governments a wide berth when surely their role is to question and hold to account our leaders and politicians.

As I said I do not want to paint a hearts and flowers view of newspapers. It is tough, uncompromising, stressful and extremely competitive business. The laws that govern them are inconsistent and the PCC needs more clarity, more clout in what it does and greater visibility when it acts.

But none of the above pressures, in my view, explains or offers an excuse for illegal activity in the newsroom.

Former tabloid editors, a media analyst, editors and journalists have addressed members of the Leveson Inquiry panel at its first seminars held on Thursday.

On the first seminar, ‘The Competitive Pressures on the Press and the Impact on Journalism’, there were presentations by media analyst Claire Enders, former editor of the News of the World, and former Daily Star reporter Richard Peppiatt.

The afternoon session, on ‘The Rights and Responsibilities of the Press’, had presentations by editor of the Guardian Alan Rusbridger, former political editor of The Sun Trevor Kavanagh, and Professor Brian Cathcart, from the Hacked Off campaign.

The importance of a free pressby Alan RusbridgerAnyone wanting to know why a free press matters could do worse than study the story of how the phone-hacking scandal at the News of the World was uncovered – looking both at the dogs that barked, and those that didn’t.

It took almost exactly two years for the story to unravel. For the first 18 months not very much happened. The police added two more cursory investigations to their original inadequate probe in 2006. Parliament did its best, and some individual MPs did very well indeed. But it struggled to flush out the truth. Politicians, from prime ministers down, have since admitted to everything from pragmatism to fear as an explanation for their inaction or general complicity. The regulator produced a lamentable report which betrayed an inability, or lack of will, in getting at the truth. And, with some notable exceptions, much of the media showed little initial inclination to shine a bright light on a particularly glaring abuse of power. The normal checks and balances in civil society didn’t work.

Those 18 months were telling – because the only reason the full story came out at all was down to a free press. I’ll be immodest enough to single out Nick Davies and the Guardian as the single most important force in ensuring that so much was eventually uncovered. Other journalists, in time, joined in. And what these reporters did – peel away at the evidence; accumulate facts; ask questions; cultivate sources; look at documents; talk to people who were involved; win trust; ignore threats; verify information; report accurately – is as good an illustration as you could have for the importance of a free press.

It’s for others to answer the question about the dogs that didn’t bark: why other institutions in our society didn’t function effectively over 18 months. But the saga tells you much about the need for an institution, an estate, a profession, a trade – we’ll probably never quite agree what to call it – that exists independently of the other main centres of power in society.

The fourth estate – power without responsibilityThe press is sometimes called the fourth estate. That’s probably too grandiose a concept for most journalists’ tastes – but it does suggest an important, coherent and independent force in society. That “apartness” is crucial. The press does not share the same aims as government, the legislature, the executive, religion or commerce. It is, or should be, an outsider.

Stanley Baldwin did not intend it as a compliment when he said of newspapers in 1931 that they had “power without responsibility.” But, in fact, that lack of responsibility is one of the important respects in which the press is different. Of course, the press must be responsible for its own standards and ethics. But it’s not the job of journalists to run things: they are literally without responsibility. They don’t have to respond to a party whip, make the compromises necessary in politics or answer to shareholders. They are not bound by the confidentiality agreements that bind others. They are careless of causing inconvenience or embarrassment. They don’t have to win votes. They can write things - about the economy, say, or the environment - which may need saying but which are unsayable by politicians. They come from a different place.

This freedom is a fundamental one. There are plenty of writers, jurists and political philosophers who consider it the first and foremost of our freedoms. The American first amendment is probably the most robust expression and enshrinement of the primacy of free speech in an open society.

So that’s the ideal. But it’s worth asking, in a British context, how “free” is our press? And, even more fundamentally, what is “the press?”

How Free?

Many journalists and lawyers would argue that the press in the UK is relatively, but only relatively, free. It is not clear that the situation has improved notably since Harold Evans, unable to publish the full truth about the Thalidomide scandal, bemoaned what he called Britain’s “half-free press” in the mid 1970s. A 2009 Index/PEN commission into our defamation laws concluded: “The law as it stands is hindering the free exchange of ideas and information.” The 2011 Global Press Freedom Rankings placed the UK in joint 26th place.

Another measure of freedom is whether reporters are genuinely free to follow any story they wish – regardless of proprietorial, editorial or commercial pressures or influence.

Yet another measure of freedom is economic freedom. It is no secret that newspapers face an existential threat due to the combination of technical and economic factors. Digital disruption comes in many forms: it sucks revenues out of print. It challenges the very idea of what a “newspaper “ is, or what journalism does. The sort of (expensive and time consuming) journalism Nick Davies does is threatened in many news organizations by the quite understandable need to cut costs.

What is ‘The Press?’

Until recently it would have been self-evident what “the press” was. The 1947-9 Royal Commission on the press described it as “the chief agency for instructing the public on the main issues of the day... the main source from which information, discussion and advocacy reach the public.”

Whether or not “the press” remains the chief agency of instruction today, it would be very rare to find a “newspaper” that existed only as a printed product. Increasingly “the press” encompasses digital forms of journalism as well. That will include moving images, data and sound, often published around the clock on a variety of platforms.

The further it moves from its traditional and historic form the more it sails into uncharted, converged waters where it meets with broadcasters coming from one direction and so-called amateur creators of content from another.

Countless blogs, platforms and websites reproduce some of the functions of newspapers, though very few aspire to replicate the entire bundled form of a newspaper, if only because the economic model is so unpromising.

This digital disaggregation, or fragmentation, of a newspaper has, of course, severe economic implications. But it also brings into question the hitherto distinct role of “the press”. Many of these new digital forms of information sharing are based on a different idea of what media is, or who should take part in it. This revolution in technology – considered by many the most significant since the invention of moveable type in the 15th century – allows virtually anyone to create and share their news and thoughts. 21st century media, in many respects, marks a sharp break with what went before – a world in which a relatively restricted group of people benefited from having a platform to address a mass audience. Gone are the days when the freedom of the press is limited to those who owned one.

The courts are already grappling with the implications for enforcing rules of one jurisdiction on an internationally–available medium which may be based elsewhere. The British footballer impotently trying to protect his privacy in London is part of the same tide that allows a digital citizen of Syria or Zimbabwe to exploit the free-press jurisdiction of other countries in order to publish necessary truths.

An imperfect artIn London last week, Carl Bernstein, the legendary co-author of Watergate, talked about the parallels between the story on which he and Bob Woodward worked in 1972 and the work of Nick Davies nearly 40 years later. He used the phrase “the best obtainable version of truth” to describe what journalists, at their best, seek to achieve.

Bernstein’s definition combines a nobility of ambition with the implication that journalism, by its very nature, may often fall short. We shouldn’t over claim for what a free press can do. My favourite description of journalism was coined by the late sage of the Washington press corps, David Broder. He described a newspaper as“..a partial, hasty, incomplete, inevitably somewhat flawed and inaccurate rendering of some of the things we have heard about in the past 24 hours - distorted, despite our best efforts to eliminate gross bias - by the very process of compression that makes it possible for you to lift it from the doorstep and read it in about an hour. If we labelled the product accurately, then we could immediately add: ‘But it’s the best we could do under the circumstances, and we will be back tomorrow, with a corrected and updated version.’"But the imperfections of the press are not the point when considering its freedom. A free press is not there for the benefit of a group called journalists. It’s primarily there for the benefit of ordinary citizens. The freedoms belong to them – freely to receive reliable and timely information about their society. A free press is part of a larger right of free expression – something to be jealously preserved and guarded, regardless of the abuses of those freedoms by, or on behalf of, a small number of people calling themselves journalists.

A battle never wonWe meet at a time when, for the first time since the Enlightenment, it’s possible to imagine societies – towns, cities, and even countries – without any agreed or verifiable forms of the truth. As journalists we would like it to be self-evident that what we do is as crucial to democracy as a clean water supply or a fire service. That surveys show that this is not a widely held view ought to be a matter for self-reflection.

Since Watergate journalists often like to cite big campaigning investigations to demonstrate why what we do matters. It’s we, the free press, who exposed phone-hacking, MPs expenses, illegal rendition, the truth about the death of Ian Tomlinson, match-fixing in sport, world cup votes for sale, chicanery in the arms trade, cash for questions and so on.

This work of investigation is, indeed, vital evidence of the importance of the free press. As vital is the institutional muscle of the press that stands behind a reporter engaged in this kind of work. Reporters need to know that they will be protected from the threats and immense costs that are often involved when people seek to stop daylight being thrown on their affairs. Our Moscow correspondent, for example, could not be free to work in Russia without the solidity of the Guardian behind him. The widespread defence of the sanctity of journalistic sources when our reporter, Amelia Hill, was recently threatened with the Official Secrets Act was an example of the institutional strength of the press as a whole.

But there is a quieter, less glamorous side to our trade which is also vital, and which is not easily replicated by social media or bloggers. It is the simple craft of reporting: recording things; asking questions; being an observer; giving context. It’s sitting in a magistrates’ court reporting on the daily tide of crime cases – the community’s witness to the process of justice. It’s being on the front line in Libya, trying to sift conflicting propaganda from the reality. It’s reporting the rival arguments over climate change – and helping the public to evaluate where the truth lies.

Totalitarian governments can never allow a free press. Our own relative freedom has been fought for over 400 years, and there can never be a moment when freedom can be considered “won.” When people talk about ‘licensing’ journalists or newspapers the instinct should be to refer them to history. Read about how licensing of the press in Britain was abolished in 1695. Read about how Wilkes, Cobbet, Locke, Milton, Mill, Junius and countless anonymous writers, lawyers and printers argued and battled for the comparative freedoms the press in Britain enjoys. Remember how the freedoms won here became a model for much of the rest of the world. And be conscious how the world still watches us to see how we protect those freedoms.

Is there a difference between the public interest and the interest of the public? What questions does this raise in relation to a single set of journalistic ethics?by Brian CathcartThe short answer to the first question is yes, there is a difference. Two distinct meanings of the word “interest” are at issue: in one we give our attention to something because it has the potential to do us good or harm; in the other we are merely curious. (The distinction is explicit in the difference between the negatives: “disinterested” and “uninterested”.) For journalists there are subjects which are in the public interest but which the public doesn’t find interesting. Much of the running of the European Union falls into this category. And equally there are stories which interest the public but have no potential to make the reader better or worse off in any meaningful way. I think here of the activities of Jedward.

Most news stories, I would guess, have a bit of both, but we are concerned here today not with most cases but with hard cases, that minority of stories which involve journalists in bending or breaking rules, or in being accused of doing so.

If journalists are citizens like everyone else it cannot be right that they choose when to obey laws and when not to. They must have robust, recognised and consistent justifications. And if journalists are not ordinary citizens but privileged ones then the requirement is all the greater. We have some privileges in law; we enjoy special access; our newspapers are exempt from VAT. Those privileges, conferred by the public, carry with them an obligation to behave scrupulously.

So, if we want to break the law, can the interest of the public be a justification? Is it a defence simply to say that the story will be read by a lot of people? I don’t believe many people would say yes. We learn in childhood that wanting something is not the same as having a right to it. A man may wish to know what his neighbour looks like with her clothes off, but that does not entitle him to climb a ladder and peer into her bathroom.

Yet a case for the interest of the public is sometimes made, albeit obliquely. Two years ago the then editor of the Daily Express, Peter Hill, was asked by the Commons media select committee about the reporting of the Madeleine McCann case. He replied:“The way that newspaper people work is that their job is to report on the events which are of interest to their readers and of course this was of consuming interest to readers of all the newspapers, not just the Daily Express . . . This is what newspapers do. Their job is to sell newspapers; that is what they do.”

Mr Hill was not presenting this as a justification in law. He was -- if I read him right -- offering it as a practical explanation. Journalists try to satisfy public curiosity.

It cannot be right, however, to suggest that because many people were interested in the McCann case it was automatically legitimate to go beyond the law or beyond accepted codes of practice to report the next development. However great the public’s appetite for information on a given subject, it cannot simply dissolve laws or suspend ethical codes. To suggest that is to surrender to lynch law, or, to use a more current point of reference, looters‘ law. As journalists we can only break laws or breach our codes if we expect to deliver to society something more than the fleeting gratification of curiosity or emotion, something that outweighs the offence. We have to show real gain. In other words we have to serve the public interest.

It is a sorry reflection on the state of journalism that many practitioners say they are uncertain about the public interest. As a teacher I am inclined to wonder about the education and training that led to this. But it also seems to me that very often the real confusion is not between the public interest and the interest of the public, but between public interest and commercial interest. Proprietors, editors and newsdesks have been putting sales before scruples in a way that they would not excuse in any other part of society.

The argument is made that it is impossible to define the public interest. In fact every relevant body has done so: Ofcom, the BBC and the Press Complaints Commission to name just three. Some definitions are fuller than others, but they are remarkably similar in spirit. Journalists act in the public interest, they all say,first, when they expose wrongdoing and injustice, and when they protect the public from danger,second, when they prevent the public from being misled,and third, when they reveal information which helps the public make decisions of importance.

It is true that none of the definitions provides absolute clarity for all journalists in all circumstances. But that is asking too much. The most carefully crafted contracts can be disputed in the courts, as can Acts of Parliament -- in fact such disputes are expected. Yet we still write contracts and pass Acts of Parliament. That there can be no perfect definition of the public interest does not mean that we can’t have a workable one in most circumstances.

It is not, in any case, the principles of public interest -- the words and phrases of the definition -- that cause difficulties. More than anything else it is proportionality. To illustrate: could it ever be ethically acceptable for journalists to intercept voicemail messages? The answer in my view is yes, but the return on such an invasion of privacy would need to be proportionate. That is to say that it could only be done in the pursuit of a story of very high public interest. (And I am aware that as the law stands there is no public defence for hacking. I am giving my view on proportionality.)

The courts are already familiar with the work of assessing proportionality. You can find a good example in the judgement given last week in the case of Rio Ferdinand and the Sunday Mirror. The footballer’s privacy had been breached, but was that breach justified by the circumstances? Mr Justice Nicol has set out exactly how he weighed the issue. He appears to have done so with great care and in the end he found for the newspaper, endorsing as he did so the paper’s arguments about hypocrisy and about the England captain’s standing as a role model.

Of course only the hardest of hard cases can be left to the courts. And in any case, given the limited access to justice in this country, only a small minority of cases will find their way there anyway. This brings me to the second question I have been asked to address, about the relationship between these matters and journalistic ethics.

The existence of this inquiry is proof of a failure of public trust in journalism -- not just a failure of trust in one newspaper but in large parts of the industry, and in its ethical standards and the mechanisms which exist to uphold them. This failure did not occur overnight last July. It has been coming for a long time and is associated recently with scandals including those of Robert Murat, Kate and Gerry McCann and Christopher Jefferies.

We cannot restore trust with denial or with a cover-up. No doubt regulation of some sort has a part to play, but I am convinced that nothing will make a greater difference now than a change in the mindset and habits of journalists themselves, a change which acknowledges the primacy of the public interest. I’m sure that a majority of journalists, in their hearts, are fundamentally motivated by the public interest, but having it in our hearts is not enough. As journalists we do not accept that it is enough for MPs or doctors or railway operators to mean well. We need to know that they operate in ethical and socially responsible ways and that they are accountable for what they do.

If journalists, when they work on stories of all kinds, learn to consider the public interest in the same way that they consider (or at least that they should consider) fairness and accuracy, or the risks of libel and contempt, that would be a step towards rebuilding trust. Many will say they already do this, but we need to go further. We need also to be transparent and accountable, as we ask others to be. For example, ethical and public interest considerations should be frankly discussed in the newsroom when they arise, and those discussions and any decisions that follow should be placed on the record at the time. That way, not only would ethics be taken more seriously, but there would be proof that it was. Would this slow down newsroom? Perhaps, but not much in the electronic age. And we insist that the police and doctors do such things; are we more important than they are?

That is an example of a measure to embed the public interest and the ethical codes in journalistic practice in a way that will help restore public trust. It is certainly not the only possibility, and no doubt others will be discussed. But make no mistake, there is no ducking change in journalism now.

If these issues continue to be blurred, if the public interest is treated as an afterthought, a figleaf to be retro-fitted to stories for the benefit of the courts -- as we know it sometimes is -- and if the public is left to continue with the impression that much of our journalism is about what sells and nothing more, then restoring trust will be much more difficult, and inevitably it will depend much more on the force of regulation.