A letter to Lord Leveson

Dear Lord Justice Leveson,

A few weeks ago, a senior journalism academic suggested that FleetStreetBlues should submit written evidence to your inquiry. We thought little of the idea at the time - as lowly grunt reporters with no knowledge of phone hacking, what did we really have to add? But the profoundly depressing spectacle of the past few days, and the promise of weeks more to come, has prompted us to write this anyway. Make of it what you will.

First, an acknowledgement, and an apology. Like most journalists, we've never hacked a phone in our lives, or knowingly crossed the line in any other way - but others in our trade self-evidently have. 

There have been so many phone hacking accusations flying around in recent months, few of which have been proven in court and some of which are inaccurate, that it's hard to list definitively journalism's misdemeanors. But on Monday, the testimony of Bob and Sally Dowler was heart-rending, and the case of Alan Watson, the 15-year-old Scottish boy who killed himself after reading derogatory articles about his dead sister, is equally horrific. Later today, Gerry McCann will take the stand, and in due course Christopher Jefferies will follow, and their evidence is likely to be pretty damning. Such stories shame us all.

That said, your job is not only to highlight the worst instances of media intrusion but to quantify it, and put it in perspective. Journalists are by nature intrusive - we get paid to ask the questions people don't want to answer. Most of us know where the line is most of the time, but it's a fine one, and not easily defined in law. 

Hacking the phone of a murder victim is against the law, sure - but so is hacking the phone of a 'corrupt arms executive', as David Leigh, investigations editor of the Guardian, claimed to have done. Likewise, in the case of Alan Watson and his murdered sister, journalists broke no laws - it isn't possible to defame the dead.

As a lawyer and a judge, your instinct may be to say that it should be - but tread carefully. The breaches you are investigating were committed by a very small minority of journalists, generally, although not exclusively, covering a pretty limited patch. New laws you recommend will apply to every journalist, on every publication and most likely in every medium, writing about everything from farming to finance.

Your priority must be to look at where the balance of public interest lies. That's not the same, of course, as what the public is interested in - even if a certain actor once famously said: 'When I think about actors I know, I'd much rather hear about who they're shagging than what film they're doing next.' But it does mean acknowledging that the public extends far beyond the Guardian-reading chattering classes, and even includes the 2.6 million readers of the News of the World and two million readers of the Daily Mail. 

Above all, it means considering not just the roll-call of those queuing up to have their day in court and vent against their tabloid tormentors, but also the much wider picture.

Consider whether there's not actually too much journalistic scrutiny of the rich, powerful and famous, but too little, at every level. Locally, courts and councils go uncovered because newspapers are sacking staff. Nationally, those who can afford it turn easily to the courts to serve out all manner of injunctions. And the really powerful go about their business largely unnoticed, insulated from the press by an army of lawyers. It's no surprise your witness list is packed with past-it MPs and minor celebrities - they're the only ones we dare to take on.

Consider the role of public relations, and the extent to which celebrities willingly - even desperately - collude with and manipulate the popular press for a precious few column inches. Yesterday Steve Coogan vehemently denied that this was something he had done, but certainly it applies to others. Staged photo shoots, planted stories, astonishingly powerful PRs - if you're keen to examine 'press standards' on behalf of the reader as well as the celebrity victim, call witnesses on this as well.

And finally, consider this. When your inquiry is completed, its recommendations have been considered, and new regulations are in place or maybe new laws are enacted, what kind of press do you want to see?  You have a powerful pulpit from which you can help shape what British journalism will look like in 2012 and beyond. 

We can all agree that phone hacking has no place in journalism - but phone hacking's not the only topic in town. Earlier this year, until the Guardian so dramatically changed the media agenda, it was all about superinjunctions and Ryan Giggs. As you decide whether to recommend further regulation of the press, remember that in some areas the courts are doing a pretty good job already. It's a sobering thought to think that, if things had gone a little differently, you could be presiding over an inquiry into extending the freedom of the press rather than curtailing it.

There are many things wrong with the British press. There have been appalling abuses of power, ethical breaches and some have broken the law. In some newsrooms, there is a culture of 'the story at any cost' which needs to be tempered. There are political and popular agendas that tabloids and broadsheets alike slavishly follow and in doing so skew their news coverage. There are cash-strapped papers cutting staff left, right and centre, leaving huge gaps in areas which a democratic press needs to cover. There are too-powerful PRs, and churnalists, and 'celebrity reporters' writing nonsense. There is an obsession with minutiae and a pack mentality which means all too often important stories go unreported. There are some topics and some subjects we dare not touch at all.

There are many things wrong with the British press, Lord Leveson. Hugh Grant has little to do with any of them.

Yours respectfully,

FleetStreetBlues