IPSO: A Great New Way for Bullies to Muzzle the Press

Censored concept

One of the fundamental principles of English common law is that you are innocent until proven guilty. And rightly so, for imagine how unfair it would be if any old loon with an axe to grind had only to lodge a trumped-up complaint with the relevant authorities in order to have you punished for no reason whatsoever.

Actually, though, this cruel and capricious system exists in Britain. It’s called the Independent Press Standards Organisation (Ipso) and, as might be expected of the bastard offspring of the Leveson inquiry, it’s doing an absolutely first-rate job of empowering bullies and curbing freedom of speech in order to assuage the spite of that small but vocal lobby of caught-red-handed luvvies, lefty agitators and failed hacks which thinks our press has got too big for its boots.

Not that you would necessarily guess this if you went to Ipso’s website. Its Editors’ Code of Practice seems reasonable enough (‘The Press must take care not to publish inaccurate, misleading or distorted information…’) and, scrolling down its list of rulings, what you find in the vast majority of cases is the phrase: ‘The complaint was not upheld.’ This would suggest that Ipso is both judicious and restrained.

Or so you’d think till you become the subject of one of its investigations. This happened to me recently. I can’t give you the exact details but suffice to say that I’d written something so uncontentious and easily verifiable that I might have written, ‘The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.’ Yet still, a political activist decided he had sufficient grounds to complain about this. And rather than tell him where to go — as five seconds on Google would have enabled their salaried and presumably time-rich staff to do — Ipso decided it was meet and right to make this imaginary problem my problem.

When I replied to their query with a link to a scientific website clearly showing that the sun does rise in the east and does set in the west, I thought that would be an end to it. But no. Mr Activist hit back with an even longer screed, vigorously disputing that the evidence I had provided said what I claimed it did, and demanding recourse.

‘Could we perhaps offer to remove these parts in the online version?’ suggested the newspaper’s readers’ editor diplomatically. ‘No!’ I said. ‘He’s trying it on and there’s a point of principle here. Correcting mistakes is one thing. But censoring stuff for the crime of being true? No way.’

Now, of course, I have every confidence that, when this issue is eventually resolved, Ipso will come to the only sensible conclusion. But by then it will be too late — for I will already have been forced to waste hours dealing with the kind of red-crayon complaint which, in more sensible times, would have been dealt with simply by allowing the ‘reader’ to present his case in the ‘letters to the editor’ section.

This is what Mark Steyn means when he says: ‘The process is the punishment.’ He’s referring to the far more onerous, costly and time-consuming legal case in the US that he is fighting with climate scientist Michael Mann, but when it comes to the way Ipso is being used the principle is much the same.

These activists needn’t care what Ipso’s eventual ruling is: by that stage they’ll have won regardless. Unlike in the law courts, they will have successfully intimidated and inconvenienced their enemies while incurring no financial risk. Not that money is a problem for them anyway because, quite often, making these complaints is what they are paid to do. Bob Ward, for example, a serial complainant who most recently brought an Ipso case against the Mail on Sunday for saying something he didn’t like about Arctic sea ice, has a lucrative job at the Grantham Institute, among whose raisons d’être is to make life impossible for climate sceptics.

For the journalists on the receiving end of this punishment by process, though, it’s a different story. Christopher Booker, for example, now sometimes finds himself wasting days on end fending off complaints brought by activists passing themselves off as concerned readers. One case cost him 12 solid days in lost work. He has the facts on his side and is confident of eventual victory. But even when Ipso finds in his favour, the hassle of making his defence (unpaid) will amount to the equivalent of a fine worth many hundreds of pounds.

Now, we all have our problems in this increasingly overregulated world, so I don’t expect you to shed too many tears for the plight of the freelance journalist. But what should definitely worry you about this use of Ipso is its effects on freedom of speech.

Consider Andrew Gilligan, the brave and brilliant scourge of Islamist skulduggery (from the Trojan Horse affair to Lutfur Rahman), who now has to set aside ‘a day or two’ each month just to deal with Ipso complaints. His newspaper, the Sunday Telegraph, is happy to build these costs into its reporting budget. But for some publications, the inconvenience and expense is so off-putting that they simply give up and pursue less obstreperous targets. These complaints wear people down and stop them reporting.

This is just the sort of thing that wiser heads warned would happen at the height of the Hacked Off hysteria. Weren’t Leveson’s recommendations supposed to protect us from bullies, rather than enable them?

From The Spectator

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God, I hate Katie Hopkins…

April 23, 2015

LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM – FEBRUARY 9: Katie Hopkins seen leaving the ITV Studios after an appearance on ‘Loose Women’ on February 9, 2015 in London, England. (Photo by Neil Mockford/Alex Huckle/GC Images)

God, I hate Katie Hopkins. But not for the reasons everyone else does. I hate her in the sense that I can’t help worshipping her and the ground she treads on because she does what I’d like to do but does it so much better: she annoys all the people who most deserve to be annoyed, she remains articulate and collected in the face of all the brickbats that are thrown at her, and above all, she seems to make a damn good living out of it.

The last bit isn’t as obvious as you’d think. I was talking to an agent the other day about the best way to make the most of a career as an outspoken media commenter and his argument was that you shouldn’t stray too far from the middle ground for that way you alienate half your potential audience.

This is especially true if you’re on the right. Outrageous pinkos – look at Owen Jones, Yasmin Alibhai Brown, Polly Toynbee, et al – tend to get a much freer pass from our left-leaning media culture. But their equivalents at the conservative end of the spectrum are much harder to find. In fact I’d say that there’s only one and that’s Hopkins.

Over the weekend, you may have noticed, Katie Hopkins was trending on Twitter yet again – this time because of a piece she’d written in The Sun in which she’d upset the Offenderati by using the word “cockroaches” in the context of the boatloads of hapless, parched, pitiable migrants now fleeing Libya. At this point you’re obliged tactically to distance yourself from Hopkins by noting how distasteful you too find her appalling choice of words. But I’m not going to, for several reasons, the first being that that it was so devastatingly effective.

One reason why so many torpedoed mariners were eaten by sharks in the Second World War is that sharks are drawn to explosions. This is what Hopkins achieved with her “cockroaches.” It was her very own USS Indianapolis: in came a veritable Guardianista Who’s Who of finny horrors: Diane Abbott; Owen Jones (natch); Piers Morgan; Russell Brand – all turning the waters of Twitter red in a roiling frenzy of noisome, bleeding-heart self-righteousness.

And in the wake of all the celebrity offendotrons – the Wankerati, as I call them – came shoal after shoal of opportunistic bottom feeders: the ones trying to get her sacked from The Sun; the ones demanding that Hopkins be prosecuted (no really: a whopping 2200 of them have already signed the inevitable Change.org petition) for “incitement to genocide”; the ones tweeting photos of her children and declaring how unlucky they were to have such a frightful mother.

Now the textbook lefty response to this kind of monstering is to play the victim card, as so-called “anti-poverty campaigner” and professional lesbian single mother “Ms Jack Monroe” has just done. She could, of course, have just quietly stopped using Twitter. Except, being a Social Justice Warrior, she couldn’t. No, she had to weaponise her exit with a heart-rending blog about how she felt Twitter was no longer felt a “safe space” : “Today I left my house at 4pm. Head down. Eyes flicking at every stranger walking towards me on the street. Sunglasses on the Tube. The man arrested roams free after 15 hours in Policy custody, updating his blog with sneering comments…”

The not-so-subtle implication of this – and we’ve seen similar tactics from Stella Creasy MP and a feminist campaigner called Caroline Criado Perez – is that free speech has gone too far and it’s time we had a clampdown. This is the guerilla version of the conventional war which has been waged on free speech by the left-liberal establishment (from Keir Starmer, CPS and an emasculated police force to Hacked Off and their amen corner at the BBC and the Guardian) via the Leveson Inquiry and the vexatious arrests of all those Sun journalists. It’s cynical, it’s dirty, it’s illiberal and it’s much, much more dangerous and ugly than anything Katie Hopkins has ever written.

But the reason so few people appreciate this is – ooh look! Katie Hopkins wrote a nasty word, so we needn’t talk about it. That, I’m afraid, is the level to which so many vitally important debates have been reduced these days by the liberal-left’s Alinskyite tactics.

In the case of Hopkins’s Sun piece, no left-wing commentator, so far as I’m aware, felt under any obligation to respond with any manner of reasoned counterargument. They might have pointed out that because the West created the Libyan crisis it has a moral obligation to fix its consequences; or they could have gone the whole hog and argued that we have a duty to house all refugees, come what may.

They didn’t though because – a bit like with all those rapists out there who just can’t help raping women because they’re provocatively dressed and therefore have it coming to them – their intellectual processes were short-circuited by Hopkins’s outrageously unforgivable deployment of a single term: “cockroaches.”

A piece in the Independent claimed that this was the kind of dehumanising words the Nazis used, so apparently rendering Hopkins’s entire commentary beyond the pale. Lots of people in the comments section and on social media agreed with this analysis. I hope this tendency frightens you as much as it frightens me.

Why? Because it’s a dirty rhetorical cheat, not an argument. No, worse than that it’s a vicious lie. By focusing on just one intemperate word (designed, as so much of the best polemical writing does, to provoke a response) and freighting it with far more significance than any remotely objective interpretation could possibly bear, it calculatingly misrepresents the opinions of a heroically brave, often admirably sensible woman who dares, as so few do, to voice what the silent majority are really thinking.

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2 thoughts on “God, I hate Katie Hopkins…”

  1. Sholto says:24th April 2015 at 8:09 amThe Left get to write the narrative because basically they have taken over the public sector. Not, as the Right grumble, because of a cunning Gramscian plot to take over the institutions, but because they have had no choice.
    When I was at Uni (Dept of Maths & Computer Science) there were no lefties in sight, ditto Engineering, Accountancy, Physics, anything requiring accuracy and logic. No, they were bunched up in the softer sciences, in fact the softer the science the lefter its participants.
    Obviously one does not emerge from the academic meringue of a Sociology or Gender Studies course to be confronted with a vista of open doors into the private sector. Whereas here in Australia, and I imagine elsewhere, the public sector often insists on a degree but they normally don’t care what degree. Hence you are best advised to never stand between a leftie and the taxpayer’s teat.
    So we have reverse Darwinism at work – those with the most intellectually and academically questionable degrees end up in the environment where they have most influence over the rest of us.
    Those of us unfortunate enough to live in the real world always face an uphill fight to be heard over the overwhelming superiority of media volume and bureaucratic diktat at the disposal of the other side.
    The West is stuffed.
  2. Richard Treadgold says:25th April 2015 at 3:32 amSuch perception. Such common sense. Such enjoyable simplification. Such is Delingpole.

Luvvies for Hypocrisy, Intellectual Dishonesty and Lazy Groupthink

When Caitlin was fun!

The story so far: Caitlin Moran (yes, all right: I know lots of you claim never to have heard of her, but she’s a bestselling author on both sides of the Atlantic and one of our most fluent and entertaining columnists) has been fighting a war to clean up the social media site you never use, Twitter.

But now she has been rumbled as a major source of offensive, potty-mouthed, insensitive Twitter chat herself.

And now, in response, Caitlin has felt compelled to launch into one of her increasingly tedious apologiae pro vita sua (Caitlin, Caitlin, you were SO much more fun in the days when you stuck to celebrities and vajazzling) to justify why, like, it’s OK for Caitlin Moran to make flip, glib, matey in-jokes about AIDs and gays and suchlike but not OK for anyone to be horrid to members of the righteous sisterhood like Mary Beard and Stella Creasy and Caroline Criado-Perez.

And now, Caitlin’s essay has been retweeted in a “put that in your pipe and smoke it, evil, right-wing Caitlin-doubters!” way by celebrity comedian David Baddiel, and celebrity comedian Dom Joly. And quite soon, I think we can fairly safely guarantee, it will also have been retweeted by celebrity astronomer Brian Cox, celebrity mathematician Simon Singh, celebrity Times whimsyist Hugo Rifkind, celebrity lefty and occasional scriptwriter Graham Linehan, et al. Why? Because they’re all part of the same great big self-affirmatory gang of the impeccably liberal-left-leaning luvviehood, is why. Once you become a part of this gang, it’s great because you never have to worry about saying the wrong thing on any issue ever again. You know what to think on “climate change”, because all you have to do is check what fellow club member Marcus Brigstocke thinks. You know what to think about bees and neonicotinoids because of what Vivienne Westwood says. You know what to think about fracking because Yoko Ono and Sean Lennon and Chrissie Hynde’s daughter don’t like it. Etc.

This is the same phenomenon I described when having a go in the Spectator at the ineffably tedious and oh-so-predictably lefty Russell Howard’s Good News.

What’s really irksome about Howard, though, is the mind-numbing, soul-sapping conventionalism of his politics. You just know that the first day he went to the subsidised bar on his economics degree course at the University of the West of England (Bristol Poly, in old money, I believe), he got handed the usual Middle-Class Student ****er’s starter pack marked ‘This is what you think’. There’ll have been a long section on how bad racism is, probably the worst crime in the world; one on Tories (‘tossers’); others on Israel and Palestine, the great recession (all the fault of greedy bankers and tax-dodging corporations, basically), the environment (v.v important!!), and so on. And young Russell will have gone, ‘Hey, I like the sound of this. It means not only can I spend the rest of my life feeling morally superior over all the scumbags who don’t agree with the Middle-Class Student ****er’s starter pack but also that I’ll never have to use a single one of my brain cells ever again.’

This morning – not as a trolling gesture, but in all sincerity – I invited my old mucker Caitlin to join in my Twitter campaign to #keeptwittertasteless (or #keeptweetstastless – I can’t decide which is better). The point I was trying to make is a serious one: that if you genuinely believe in freedom of speech, then an inevitable part of that freedom is the freedom to offend, be it Guardian hacks writing disobligingly about transvestites, or ungallant louts insulting Mary Beard’s looks, or Caitlin’s AIDS quips. After all, one person’s flip, daringly near-the-knuckle, mini-rebellion against our stifling culture of PC is another person’s dire, report-worthy offence. And since it’s all a matter of opinion, where do you draw the line? Who decides what is and isn’t “appropriate”? (Direct threats of violence are, of course, another matter. But those were already proscribed by the law long before Caitlin and her pals began their Twitter clean up campaign)

I find it slightly weird that I should need to explain this. (A similar problem exists with Leveson.) Why is it mainly just us right-wingers who are sticking up for the principles of free speech? Why don’t the left-liberal luvviehood get it too? Are they even capable of thinking an original, let alone brave, thought on any subject, ever?

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Press regulation only helps the bad guys

Should the state protect the Establishment?

Press regulation? Bring it on!

Should the state be doing more to protect the interests of the corrupt, powerful, mendacious, rapacious, self-serving establishment? I don’t think so. And neither, I suspect, do the vast majority of those useful idiots agitating for more stringent curbs on the media. Yet if Leveson’s statutory regulations are implemented, that will certainly be the net result. How do I know? Because I’ve experienced for myself the results of this law of unintended consequences at the hands of our current regulator the Press Complaints Commission.

Don’t get me wrong: I believe the PCC is run by decent, fair-minded people anxious to strike a balance between the need to preserve a free press and the need to defend the vulnerable from its wilder excesses. Its decisions – as I can personally testify – are often very sensible, sometimes even bravely counter-intuitive. I was genuinely surprised when it found in my favour after a complaint by the University of East Anglia. This wasn’t because I didn’t believe in the strength of my case. Rather, it was because the current establishment viewpoint – everywhere from the print media and television to the seats of academe to organisations like the Institute of Chartered Surveyors to local and national government – is so heavily biased in favour of the “man-made global warming consensus” that I didn’t think I’d get a fair hearing.

But I did. And that is to the PCC’s credit.

What isn’t to the PCC’s credit is the way it is used by vested interests as a bully pulpit to harass and intimidate journalists whose opinions those vested interests find inconvenient.

A journalist friend of mine suffers this with distressing frequency. Scarcely a month goes by when he is not being asked by his newspaper’s lawyer to provide detailed rebuttals to some vexatious complaint or other which has been made against him by some well-funded lobbyist on behalf of some dodgy industry or organisation – usually connected with the great Climate Change Gravy Train. These rebuttals take time. Unpaid time. My own response to the UEA’s complaint took up most of a weekend I’d been hoping to spend with my son back from boarding school. And to what end? All so that, eventually, the PCC could come to the conclusion that I had no case to answer; in other words, that this case should never have been brought.

Too right it bloody shouldn’t. In Climategate, the University of East Anglia’s Climatic Research Unit was caught red-handed in one of the biggest and justly notorious cases of malfeasance, incompetence and corruption in science history. Its department – the recipient of over £13 million in government grants: ie OUR money – was implicated in everything from the illegal breach of FOI laws to the persecution and harassment of dissenting scientists to the losing of vital data to the abuse of the scientific method. And never mind that it was supposedly vindicated by a number of whitewash inquiries: the naked truth remains – as authors such as Andrew Montford have clearly and unimpeachably demonstrated in books like Hiding The Decline – that UEA’s the CRU, several of its staff, and a number of their counterparts in the US, Australia and New Zealand were quite clearly guilty as sin.

Could the PCC have been expected to know this in advance? Probably not. Perhaps it imagined that the UEA was a thoroughly respectable institution which would never dream of vexatiously persecuting an innocent journalist for telling the truth. But, in a way, that only makes the point I’m trying to argue here even stronger, viz: whether unwittingly or not, our current media regulation system is being used, by and large, not to protect the little man from the ugly establishment but as a cynical way for that ugly establishment to try to entrench its power.

By “ugly establishment” I don’t, of course, mean the old, pretend-powerful establishment of popular caricature (belted earls, retired colonels from Tunbridge Wells, men in bowler hats, etc) . I mean the real establishment that rose to prominence under Tony Blair and now increasingly dominates our culture: the activist judges, the media lefty-luvvies, the bien-pensant axis of the Guardian and the BBC, the post-normal scientists, the corporatists and banksters. These are the types agitating most heavily for Leveson style regulation because they’re the ones who are not only going to be implementing it but whose grubby dealings are most likely to be concealed by it.

Toby Young – late of this parish and much-missed – summed it up perfectly in a Tweet today:

Problem with #leveson is that the people he wants to “guard the guardians” are the same people the guardians are supposed to keep in check.

Amen, bro. Press regulation is already quite dangerous and counterproductive enough as it is. Imagine how much more dangerous it would be if it actually had teeth.

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BBC Goes for It

Which is the worse crime, would you say: eavesdropping on celebrities’ answerphones? Or hosting and covering up for a ruthless predatory paedophile ring — led by your biggest, most heavily promoted star — over a period of four decades?

Mm, me too. In fact, I’d say the Savile affair is as close as we’ll ever get to proving that God really hates the BBC. I mean, the timing is far too perfect to be coincidental, isn’t it? First we get Leveson — essentially a stitch-up by the BBC and the Guardian to entrench the power of the bien-pensant establishment, increase regulation and destroy the free market (especially Rupert Murdoch). Then, just when the tofu-eating turbine-huggers think they’ve won — zing! — a lightning bolt from heaven in the form of a scandal so sordid, so vast, so compromising that it makes Leveson look about as inconsequential as gossip overheard at the laundrette while waiting for your smalls to finish their tumbledry.

Full marks, obviously, to ITV for setting the ball rolling earlier this month with Exposure: The Other Side of Jimmy Savile. But full marks, too, to Panorama (Monday) for a belated follow-up as hard-hitting and brutally frank and riveting as any documentary I’ve seen. Some anti-BBC types on Twitter seemed to think that this was just another weaselly exercise in BBC face-saving. Really? I thought it was savage: utterly, grippingly, almost unbearably so, like watching a once-revered pack leader suddenly stumbling and being torn to pieces by the junior wolves.

Usually when the BBC does self-criticism, it’s just an exercise in faux-openness and pretend accountability. On Radio 4’s Feedback, for example, listeners are permitted to be heard raging about vital matters such as the use of intrusive background music on documentaries; then a producer comes on to respond that intrusive background music is a matter of taste. Meanwhile, the issues where the BBC is seriously, dangerously at fault — its ingrained political correctness, its grotesque institutional bias on everything from Israel to ‘climate change’ — continue to be swept under the carpet.

Read the rest at the Spectator.

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