Royal Charter on Press Conduct

Lord Watson of Wyre Forest Excerpts

Monday 18th March 2013 Commons Chamber

[Mr Tom Watson (West Bromwich East) (Lab)]

I refer the House to my entry in the Register of Members’ Financial Interests.

For every one of the five years that I have been worrying this bone, people have been telling me to leave it. They have been some very dark years—though latterly rather euphoric, I suppose. Most of the time it has been quite lonely and bleak. We have learnt some pretty dark things about ourselves. By “ourselves,” I do not just mean politicians and the media; I mean the whole of what used to be called the establishment—the quiet cabal that runs the country, all within five miles of where we sit tonight. I am talking about not just politicians, but prosecutors; not just journalists, but judges, industrialists and editors; policemen, commentators and publicists; the bold with the meek; and the guilty and the damned. We were all part of this. This was not a conspiracy that no one knew about—not in the establishment anyway. Among the people I am talking about—the few thousand most powerful people in the land, in whose collective charge are the freedoms of everybody else—in that wealthy, privileged powerful group with so much to lose, everybody knew.

[Mr Peter Lilley (Hitchin and Harpenden) (Con)]

Will the hon. Gentleman give way?

[Mr Watson]

In a minute. They did not all perhaps appreciate the scale of what went on, but everybody knew that a crucial part of our nation’s body politic was rotten. We did not know that they were hacking Milly Dowler’s phone, but we knew that that was the kind of thing they did. We knew that there were virtually no limits to the kind of things they did, and we did nothing. For years, perhaps decades, we collectively looked the other way. To be candid, even now we have let families such as the Dowlers shoulder a heavy load. They should not have been put in a position to mediate on these proposals, but they were and they did so—they had to—under great duress, but with customary dignity. They did so because while the most atrocious things were being done by people charged with upholding the highest standards, we averted our eyes—or we actively conspired. We joined in with what they did to other people because it made it less likely—we thought—that they would do it to us.

At the root of all this was fear: an abject, dark-hours-of-the-morning screaming terror that they would turn the lights of hatred on us, destroy us and humiliate us—with pure lies or half truth, it did not matter which—deliberately and viciously, for no reason other than because they can, it makes money and it is just what they do. The effect was that the lives of the not-rich and the not-powerful—the utterly innocent, so much less able to defend themselves—were laid equally bare to the random acts of malice that we came to believe were inevitable.

That was the dark hour of our parliamentary democracy, whose lessons we must not forget as we congratulate ourselves today. But we can also take heart from having finally fought back. Parliament showed its strength where Governments failed. Brave journalists showed that the profession itself is a proud one. Honest police—more than any in the person of Sue Akers—showed that the long arm of the law, once unshackled, can still reach where it should.

Today’s agreement is a good one; it is more than just a moral victory. It took patience and strength to see it through. It almost feels like a kind of closure—but I do mean almost. We have a responsibility to give something back to journalism with strengthened freedom of information laws, a proper public interest defence and imaginative ways to support investigative journalism through the disruption of digital transition. At this late hour, I hear that the charter extends its remit to internet publishing. I hope that we can make the distinction between self-publishing for pleasure and digital news reporting for profit.

The central characters in this tragedy are Rupert Murdoch and his News Corporation. He still sits at the head of the most powerful media conglomerate the world has ever seen and he still has politicians in his pocket. They still will not change the media ownership rules because they are frightened of him and they curry his favour. Amid it all, the Prime Minister looks over his shoulder as Murdoch’s people start to replace the current generation of leaders with the next. It is most naked on the Conservative Benches, but let us not avert our eyes again and pretend that it is not happening on the Labour and Liberal Democrat Benches, too.

As we reflect on the terrible cost of failures today, let us not leave the lessons half learned. Our children will not thank us for leaving the hydra with one head.