Leveson Inquiry

Lord Rodgers of Quarry Bank Excerpts

Friday 11th January 2013 Lords Chamber

[Lord Rodgers of Quarry Bank]

I, too, share in welcoming the noble Lord, Lord Trees, and commend his congenial and appropriate speech. The Leveson report reminds us that the inquiry,

“was sparked by public revulsion at a single action—the hacking of the mobile phone of a murdered teenager”.

However, its scope was expanded widely, and it became an enthralling and sometimes entertaining event.

The terms of reference of the 1961 Shawcross royal commission were limited to the economic and financial factors affecting the production and sale of newspapers. Leveson covers the culture—always rather a loose word—of the press, and I am not sure whether an all-encompassing report was wise. The internet, social networking and other changes in technology may turn out to be a more complex and critical issue, especially for privacy, than the future of conventional newspapers.

The relations of the press with police and politicians are of a different kind. There are certainly serious concerns about the way the police deal with newspapers, and about internal police behaviour. This is about far more than routine tip-offs from a local police station when a drunken celebrity falls down in the street.

As for politicians, when the inquiry was set up, the leaders of the three main parties said that in recent years politicians had become too close to the press, and implied that there had been a significant change. However, the relationship is long-standing; politicians and the press have benefited from stroking or bullying each other.

Over Christmas, I read an enjoyable volume of diaries written by Chris Mullin, who was a Member of Parliament and is now retired. In one of his diaries, he describes the “tabloid virus”—his expression—as,

“the daily cocktail of misrepresentation, trivialisation and relentless cynicism that is gnawing at the foundations of democracy”.

That is the same language of hyperbole that is used by much of the press that he deplores.

I do not much like the red-tops, and the broadsheets can often fall short. In the latter respect, I endorse the views expressed by the noble Lord, Lord Lipsey, in a letter to the Times a week or so ago. However, politics is a tough business. For a politician, resilience in the face of the press should be taken for granted.

The powers of press proprietors or barons have been familiar since the arrival of the yellow press in the closing decades of the 19th century, led by the Harmsworth brothers. After Northcliffe and Rothermere there was in particular Lord Beaverbrook, who recruited left-wing journalists from the weekly Tribune to campaign for his right-wing causes. In the 1930s there was a huge marketing competition between Hulton, Pearson and Odhams that resulted in many gifts being delivered to modest homes. As a child, for many years I read to my advantage a News Chronicle dictionary bound in mock leather.

I will not dwell further on these historic matters except to say that there are outstanding editors and journalists working today who can match the editors and journalists of the past. My preferred aphorism—perhaps it is a platitude—is that editors and journalists should stay within the law, separate news from comment and check the facts. If they sometimes fall short, that is the price we have to pay for free speech.

For six years I was chairman of the Advertising Standards Authority. My successors have been the noble Lords, Lord Borrie and Lord Smith of Finsbury. In the early 1970s there was serious public concern about advertising, and the Director of Fair Trading warned the industry that a formal, statutory body would follow unless it put its house in order through effective self-regulation. This led to the Advertising Standards Authority as it is known today. There have been changes. In my years as chairman, I invited, for the first time, members of the public to seek a place on the council of the ASA. I welcomed and facilitated an appeals system which the industry wanted. Later, the noble Lord, Lord Borrie, oversaw a major expansion, bringing broadcast advertising within its scope, thus moving into self-regulation.

As the House knows, the ASA is funded by a levy raised by a board of the advertising industry. I was appointed, as were the noble Lords, Lord Borrie and Lord Smith, in turn, by its chairman. There was no pressure of any kind put on me or my council at any time. My council had eight lay members who had no connection to the advertising industry, and I was expected to consider and approve even the four advertising industry members. The ASA is now well established, with an expert and committed staff. It is trusted by the public and is often praised. It is seen to be a great success and a model of self-regulation. I look forward to hearing more about the progress of the proposals of the noble Lords, Lord Hunt and Lord Black.

There will be a moving scene for some months. However, it is not surprising, given my own experience with the ASA, that I lean towards similar arrangements to solve the problems set out in the Leveson report. To deal with the press is a much tougher assignment than dealing with advertising, even as it was in the 1970s. An independent, self-regulatory body must have its own budget and, despite my entirely satisfactory experience, the chairman must be chosen, as Leveson says, in a genuinely open and transparent way, free from the industry and government. I welcome the report if its implementation stays close to the model of the ASA—self-regulation with a light statutory touch.