With the Minister for Justice set to publish legislation to reform defamation law and introduce a form of self-regulation for the press, Sir Christopher Meyer defends that model of regulation.
A golden rule of my old trade, diplomacy, used to be never to interfere in the internal affairs of another country. The question of which form of press regulation is best for Ireland is above all a matter for the Irish people.
However, I feel compelled to enter the debate. This is because press self-regulation in the UK, overseen by the Press Complaints Commission (PCC), which I chair, has been time and again inaccurately characterised in the debate. It would be a terrible shame if the self-regulatory model - practised in most European countries - were rejected as a result.
It has been suggested that the PCC "doesn't work" because - in no particular order - it is just a club of newspapermen with no powers, which meets as a talking shop; it is not respected within the newspaper industry; its rulings are ignored because they have no legal "bite"; it is crippled by its inability to impose fines on newspapers; and it can do nothing about journalists who harass individuals. In short, it is argued that the whole thing is a stitch-up by the newspaper industry to avoid state regulation of the press.
None of the above is true, as I shall demonstrate. But, before all else, a fundamental principle has to be asserted. A free press is indispensable to a healthy democracy. This does not mean that journalists should be above the law. Nor does it mean that individuals cannot be protected from the abuse of press freedom. It does mean that once the state gets into the business of deciding what can and cannot be written, democracy's days are numbered.
The press must be free to ask awkward questions, to scrutinise the powerful and to criticise. To give the state a role in regulating this simply invites political interference with freedom of expression. As a former civil servant, I am intimately familiar with the tricks governments, Labour and Conservatives, get up to in trying to control the flow of information.
Establishing the right balance between press freedom and press responsibility is, and always will be, intensely controversial. That is as it should be in a vigorous democracy. The PCC is always in the eye of one storm or another. But, in the UK, we are no different from the majority of European countries who have found that the best way of getting the balance right is through self-regulation. The industry agrees to abide by a set of professional standards, and then charges an independent body with ensuring that these standards are met.
It is not a British idea. It is a Scandinavian import, with a sound philosophical basis. It works in practice too. These are the reasons why: First, it is not a question of journalists sitting in judgment of one another. The PCC does not employ anyone who is or has been a journalist. The 23 full-time staff members are entirely independent of the industry. They are mainly youngsters in their 20s, the best and brightest from our universities. They are intensely motivated by their mission to help people with legitimate grievances. They have no interest in making a career of getting newspapers off the hook. I am not a youngster. But after three decades as a politically impartial civil servant, I have no intention of changing the habit of a lifetime and selling out to the newspaper and magazine industry.
Take the 17 members of the commission itself. This is the body that sits under my chairmanship once a month and rules on those cases where we have been unable to reconcile complainant and newspaper. The majority - 10 - are lay members from all walks of life, who are independent of the press. The seven editors on the commission are drawn from all over the UK. They are anything but a homogeneous group. Part of the PCC's authority derives from the fact that members of the regulated profession take part in the process. Commission debates are always passionate and intense.
Second, the 16-clause code of practice has evolved over its 14 years of existence. Yes, it is the editors who draft and amend the code. But this binds them more tightly than any set of rules imposed from the outside. The code has now established such a body of "case law" that later this week the Editor's Codebook will be published. This will, for the first time, comment on and explain how each of the clauses has been interpreted and amended over the years. This will add still further to the authority of the code, compliance with which is already written into the contracts of most journalists.
Third, the code of practice under which we take complaints has developed, if not judicial authority, judicial blessing. It is referred to in several pieces of legislation, including the Human Rights Act, Data Protection Act and Youth Justice Act. This underlines its authority and why the code is respected and adhered to by those in the industry.
Fourth, I strongly believe that the PCC's ultimate sanction, the public censuring of a newspaper, is far more effective than fines, which is what most of our critics demand. Fines, even if we were able to agree on the tariff, would lead to the heavy involvement of lawyers with all the costs and delay that this would entail.
At present our service to the public - almost 4,000 complaints a year - is free and fast. We turn around cases on average within six weeks. You do not need a lawyer to complain to the PCC. Introducing fines and lawyers would lead to the disintegration of an outstandingly successful complaints conciliation service, built up over 14 years.
Any editor found guilty of transgressing the code of practice must publish in full and with due prominence an adverse PCC ruling. Editors are not allowed to edit our criticisms. This advertises to their readers, rivals, and employers the fact that they have failed to live up to the high professional standards to which they are publicly committed. It also becomes part of our case law, setting new boundaries for what is permissible. No wonder that editors, nine times out of 10, offer to settle complaints, by publishing corrections and apologies and so on. In really bad cases, an editor or journalist could lose their job as a result of being censured.
Fifth, the fact that the code is not a legal document gives us the flexibility to act quickly on the basis of common sense rather than on strict interpretation of the rules. This is most apparent in cases of journalists' behaviour before publication. People who feel they are harassed can get in touch with us 24 hours a day. Action can be taken immediately, and frequently is. This would be impossible with a statutory system, under which - as with the rules for British broadcasting - people would almost certainly have to wait for publication before they could complain. The success of self-regulation can be measured in the stories that are not published, and the harassment that is stopped.
These are just some of the reasons why our system works far better than our critics give us credit for. It is not perfect. But it is interesting that in those countries in eastern Europe that have recently had state involvement in the regulation of the press, our model, which is common throughout western Europe, is the one that they go for. Its merits should be considered seriously.
Sir Christopher Meyer is chairman of the British Press Complaints Commission.