What is the point of journalism? What Leveson won't do for us.

What is the point of journalism? What is it for? Of course, under ideal conditions we know that the news media constitute the public sphere, where citizens become informed about important issues, and so reach responsible decisions. It is also the place where the political sphere of government and the private sphere of the market are kept under critical scrutiny by the citizens. That is the ideal model that shapes much of the discussion around media ethics, but we know that this model doesn’t actually apply in practice (which means much of the discussion about media ethics misses the point).

The reality is that the purpose of journalism is determined by the owners of the news media, not by the journalists themselves nor by the readers. So why do people own and publish newspapers? In some cases it is to make profit and become rich, but that is clearly not true in a large number of cases, because newspapers are notoriously unprofitable. Another answer is to have influence and exercise power over political events. That takes us back to the public sphere model, where the purpose of the media is to enable citizens to exercise control over the political sphere – but now we see that it is the owners of the media, not the citizenry, who exercise that control.

So while we can say that the purpose of much of the newspaper industry is to provide entertainment to the widest possible audience and so make a profit for the owners, there is another aspect here which is just as important – that the point of owning a newspaper is to exercise influence and control over political events: that is, to exercise power over the political sphere.

And it is this aspect which the Leveson Inquiry is in danger of missing, as it focuses on the harassment of celebrities and violations of privacy and lapses in taste. The whole point of the summoning of the Murdoch’s to appear before the Parliamentary Select Committee was to play out this drama of power and influence. Who is really in power? The politicians or the Murdochs?  And that is the game that is being played out in between the lines of the Leveson Inquiry – do the politicians dare bring the media owners under control?

The sad thing is that the choice we are faced with is between a public sphere owned and controlled by a few very powerful people with a narrow political agenda, or one that is severely constrained by the rules set out for it by the political elite. The ideal model, of a news media that genuinely informs the citizenry and enables them to exercise critical scrutiny of the powerful political and business elites, is not on offer from Leveson.

Key questions for Leveson 2: What is the difference between print and broadcast media when it comes to regulation?

What is the difference between print and broadcast media when it comes to regulation?

So why does the print media get away with regulating itself, while the broadcast media is subject to much heavier state control and scrutiny? Is there any principled difference between the two that can carry the weight of their different status when it comes to regulation?

The only answer I can come up with is that it’s an accident of history. The print media arose through private ownership, while the broadcast media in the UK started out as a state-run enterprise. The state has slowly and perhaps reluctantly handed out the right to broadcast to the private sector, but only under a strict system of licensing and with clear rules and a statutory body to regulate it if it steps out of line. Meanwhile, the print media has resisted any attempts to have itself regulated by anybody but its own puppets and no government has wanted to take them on.

So we didn’t get here through any reasoned process. It’s just what happened.

The question we have to answer here is whether the type of system that covers the broadcast media is suitable for the print media. The trouble is, if we say yes, whether that places too heavy a burden on those who want to set up newspapers or other news outlets. How would this effect the internet, which is now the primary site for ‘citizen’ journalism? Would it mean that our freedom of speech could only be exercised through state-approved outlets?

How do we regulate the media in a way that respects everybody’s right to be a citizen journalist? Of course, you could question whether there is any such right – does the right to freedom of expression entail the right to be a citizen journalist? Is it that important for our society that everybody has such a right? My own gut feeling for what it’s worth is that it is important, so important that it shouldn’t be compromised by the fall out from the Leveson Inquiry.

So if there is going to be a heavier system of regulation, it has to be one that doesn’t interfere with citizen journalism. The key to this is understanding that what got us to the Leveson Inquiry was not what newspapers printed, but the way they went about finding things out. The Inquiry is having trouble distinguishing the two questions: (1) how newspapers go about getting their information; (2) the information they publish. But that isn’t surprising as it is, in fact, an extremely complex distinction, and in the end both issues are at stake when it comes to media ethics and intrusions into privacy. Privacy can be violated through the methods used to discover the information (e.g. phone hacking), but also violated through the publication of certain information (not only, importantly, information gained through illicit methods).

‘Citizen’ journalism is unlikely to violate privacy in either case, in that they typically don’t resort to the sorts of methods that have been criticised, and nor do they pursue the type of story that has upset but entertained the public so much. 

Research and the Ethics of 'Impact'

An important part of my future research focus is on the ethics of research itself and the ethics of public engagement – who should we be engaging with and for what purpose?

Informing this is a view that research itself has a moral purpose – it is an ethical activity. That’s why, partially at least, we have a framework of research ethics for that activity.

I used to teach media ethics and one question which framed the whole course was whether there was any such thing as media ethics? The answer was, only if the media as a practice has a moral purpose, and the rest of the course was an attempt to find that out. But I had to say to those students taking the course who wanted to go into PR that, no, there was no professional ethics for them, because PR does not have a moral purpose, just as you can’t have professional ethics in the arms trade, the tobacco industry, the oil industry … well, the list goes on.

So what is the moral purpose of our research? At the minimal level this is given to us by the charitable status of our universities. Our research must give rise to public benefit, and any private benefit has to be incidental. The public benefit requirement is, in the end, minimal in that charity law is satisfied if our research is made public, if it is shared. But there are hints here of a more robust conception of public benefit in the charity law requirement, and I would certainly want to go further in my personal understanding of the moral purpose of research. Our research should have a positive impact on the public good, one that includes those traditionally excluded from that public good. The Charity Commission’s view is that the way we disseminate our research must “not be unreasonably restricted or excluding those in poverty from the opportunity to benefit”.

Talk of impact is timely, of course, given the importance of impact in the forthcoming Research Excellence Framework. And I’m all for impact, given the words engraved on a tombstone in Highgate Cemetery. But the question is what sort of impact and where?

Apart from its crucial impact on our teaching, the kind of impact I’m looking for is on critical social movements in their struggle against barriers of social exclusion. I have no problem in talking about this engagement in terms of knowledge exchange, as I think theory and activism need to learn from each other. But increasingly the sharing of our research, the act of public engagement, is being placed in a framework described as the ‘knowledge economy’, talked of in terms of ‘intellectual capital’, and being put up for ‘commercialization’ and ‘exploitation’.

Here I begin to lose track. If there is a knowledge economy we need to think about what sort of economy we’re talking about. Certainly, the collapse of competitive market economies around the world and the catastrophic consequences that is having on ordinary people’s lives – caused by the sort of sleep walking thoughtlessness Hannah Arendt warned against – should make us very cautious about seeing our research as capital for exploitation in that kind of economic marketplace.

We should be thinking about alternative models for the marketplace of ideas, perhaps a cooperative one, or perhaps we need to move away from the idea of the marketplace altogether and think in terms of the public ‘forum’. The primary requirement of the moral principles of research, and again of our charitable status, is not that we make money out of research, but that we make it publicly available – we share it. A ‘knowledge economy’ which exploits our ‘intellectual capital’ may not be the best way of doing that.

One reason for caution here is, of course, that the capitalist market makes no moral judgment – it will trade anything with anybody if there’s a profit to be made. Ethics always has to be imposed on the market from outside. And so public engagement itself has to have an ethical framework. We have to ask what ethical purpose our research and expertise will be put to. We cannot be so anxious about the commercial exploitation of our intellectual capital that we fail to ask that question. I’ve always argued that our social justice obligations don’t stop at the national border. Well, our research ethics obligations don’t stop at the university gate.

We are being urged by government to engage with business. It’s a theme running through the Welsh Assembly’s “For our Future” document on its Higher Education Strategy, which talks of “exploitation” of knowledge “to feed wealth creation and business growth”.

But we have to remember that what the business person wants from us, if anything, is help in getting rich, or richer. The argument seems to be that helping a local business increase its profits will help regenerate the local community, but this is an assumption which is not born out by the evidence – to stick to Wales, have a look at Cardiff Bay then wander over to Butetown.

There is no necessary connection between private profit and regeneration, and so rather than assume it, we have to ask our business ‘partners’ whether our relationship will contribute to the project of regeneration, and if they don’t have an answer, perhaps we shouldn’t be in that relationship, and indeed again our charitable status says we shouldn’t.

The Charity Commission is so concerned about the push to exploitation by government that it recently issued clarification and advice to universities. It was anxious to say that charitable status and commercialization of research are not necessarily incompatible, but the fact that it felt the clarification was necessary shows its unease with what is happening in higher education. Its advice emphasizes that private benefit has to be incidental and public benefit paramount, and: “There cannot be an automatic presumption either of public benefit or that private benefit is incidental.” And: “Research must be justified and undertaken for the public benefit and not solely or mainly for self-interest or for private or commercial consumption.”

The Welsh Assembly Government “For our Future” document talks of the “two pillars of social justice and supporting a buoyant economy” – but we know there is no necessary connection between booming or buoyant economies and social justice: that connection has to be made, has to be fought for, and perhaps we are one of the agencies who need to make it and fight for it.

In all of this debate the burden of justification has fallen upon us as academics– we have to justify our ‘usefulness’ to the business community. But if there is to be a connection between economic wealth and social justice, and if we are obliged to ensure that there is a public benefit arising from our research over and above any incidental private benefit, there are questions we must ask of our potential business partners.

What universities have to face up to is that the push towards doing business with business gives rise to an enormous ethical tension around the question of interests. Businesses will fund research if it is in their interests, but our research must be in the public benefit, and we cannot presume that the interests of the business and the benefit of the public coincide. There are all sorts of cases where they clearly do not. Some universities have ethical codes of conduct which simply rule out any funding or any support from any organization involved with the tobacco industry – the University of Sunderland and the University of Portsmouth both take this stance, for example. But with government pushing us towards closer relations with business, and with institutions also looking for those closer ties, the pressure on the individual researcher or team of researchers may grow, regardless of ethics policies. And that tension between business interest and public interest will become all the more intense. The tobacco industry is an extreme example of a general ethical problem.

And so it becomes all the more crucial to ask, if we are entering into a knowledge ‘economy’ where intellectual ‘capital’ is to be ‘exploited’ – on whose behalf is it being exploited? To whose benefit? In whose interests? What sort of economy is this? Is it one that concentrates wealth and power in the hands of those who already possess it, and re-enforces social exclusion and injustice? Is it our purpose to make the strong stronger, the rich richer, the powerful more powerful? Or should we be doing the opposite?

An institutional ethics policy is, of course, is only part of the answer. The more important part is that we as individual researchers retain our moral compass, whatever is happening around us.

To not think about the ethical dimension of what we are doing, is to be drawn into the realm of the anti-theoretical, to be drawn into a black hole where there is no ethics. And the collapse of the banking and financial sector and the enormous cost of this for ordinary people around the world shows us what this kind of ‘thoughtlessness’ can lead to. Let us not be sleepwalkers.

We do not do research in order to make money, for ourselves or for the institution, and research itself should not be valued or ranked in terms of its potential for commercial exploitation. We do research in order to have a positive benefit on the public good, and sometimes that benefit will simply be that it changes how people think.

Of course, we have to raise money to fund our research activity. We must engage in the moral enterprise of research, and we need money to be able do that. But that need must not change the ethical framework or moral purpose of our research.

These are difficult times and they are going to get more difficult. But history shows that it is during difficult times that ethical commitments become more important than ever.

In my role in supporting those beginning their research careers, I’ve offered the following advice:

1. Decide your research identity – who you want to be, what you want to be recognised as: you need to be recognised as an expert, and you cannot be an expert in all things.

2. Keep your direction, whatever the pressure to react to research bids and opportunities which have money attached to them – keep your balance.

3. And amidst all the pressures, above all keep your dignity.

And today I’ll add another dimension, another piece of advice which I think applies to universities as institutions as well as to individual researchers: 


4. Keep the clarity of your moral vision, because that moral vision will act as the foundation for your identity, your direction and your dignity.

We must not allow ourselves to be fragmented into egoistic, competitive individuals by being drawn into a particular model of the market of ideas – let us remember that best way to lay the foundation for our own research career is to support and encourage and cooperate with others in the development of theirs.

As Hannah Arendt observes: “The manifestation of the wind of thought is not knowledge: it is the ability to tell right from wrong…”. (The Life of the Mind, Volume 1, p. 193).

Key Questions for Leveson 1: What next for self-regulation?

Having identified the key questions for the Leveson Inquiry, I shiuld have a go at answering them myself.

The first concerned the future of self-regulation.

The print media is exclusively privately-owned in the UK. Why would a privately-run industry want to be seen to regulate itself when it comes to matters of ethics? This might be because the industry wishes to present itself as credible and trustworthy. In the case of the news media, this amounts to having a reputation for reporting accurately and truthfully on matters of significance.

But is there a strong motivation for the news media to appear to be credible and trustworthy in this way? On the face of it, it makes sense to suppose that there is, because why would anybody buy a newspaper which had demonstrated that it has no credibility and cannot be trusted? But this is to assume the ‘ideal’ reader, and all the evidence seems to show that people will buy a newspaper in large numbers even though that newspaper makes little serious claim to be credible or trustworthy, or to report accurately on matters of significance.

So why would the industry want to be seen to be self-regulating in a thorough and efficient way? The answer is, of course, that self-regulation has always been seen as the price the industry pays for keeping statutory regulation off its back.

The Press Complaints Commission is the latest version of self-regulation the industry thinks it can get away with. The Seventh Report of the House of Commons Culture, Media and Sport Committee, considering what it then knew about the phone-hacking scandal involving the News of the World in 2007, concluded: “We do not believe that there is a case for a statutory regulator for the press, which would represent a very dangerous interference with the freedom of the press. We continue to believe that statutory regulation of the press is a hallmark of authoritarianism and risks undermining democracy. We recommend that self-regulation should be retained for the press, while recognising that it must be seen to be effective if calls for statutory intervention are to be resisted.”

This is just another statement of the ‘last-chance saloon’ commentators have said the newspaper industry in the UK has been drinking in when it comes to regulation. That saloon seems to have very late drinking hours. Will Leveson call time? It seems unlikely, but unless the threat of statutory regulation becomes credible, then self-regulation by the newspaper industry will remain weak and inadequate.

My guess would be that we might get something like a halfway solution, in between self-regulation and a statutory legal body – a body without statutory power but completely independent of the newspaper industry, and, importantly, with greater powers to enforce a more effective code of ethical conduct: most importantly with the power to impose fines. Whether such a hybrid monster can be effectively created is a question we may have to face by the end of the enquiry.

At the moment, though, what we are witnessing is a distorted and degraded public sphere being fought over by a newspaper industry which has clearly lost its moral compass if indeed it ever possessed one, an army of celebrities who are taking the opportunity to take revenge, a few genuine victims of press intrusion, and a government which would probably prefer not to get involved and doesn’t want to take the industry on. This is being witnessed by a public who are disgusted by newspaper practices but are only too happy to buy the newspapers that print the kind of stories that have led us to this sorry spectacle.

The key questions for the Leveson Inquiry

1. What scope is there for self-regulation on ethical questions in an industry that is run for profit?
2. What is the difference between print and broadcast media when it comes to regulation?
3. Does print journalism serve any purpose beyond public entertainment?
4. If print journalism is going to serve the purpose of keeping citizens informed so that they can take responsible decisions, how are we to make a distinction between ‘news’ and ‘entertainment’, such that the former must serve that purpose, but the latter does not?
5. If a print medium primarily serves the purposes of entertainment, can they have any recourse to the ‘public interest’ defence when it comes to intrusions into people’s private lives?
6. Even if the print medium is a serious news publication, how are we to define ‘public interest’ when it comes to intrusions into privacy?
7. How are we to regulate the media in a way that respects every individual’s right to freedom of speech, which amounts to every individual’s right to be a journalist? The internet has restored the status of journalism as a hobby for anybody to engage in. This must be defended.

The Guerilla Philosophy Collective

In a few months I will find myself outside of an academic institution for the first time in 25 years. This is a result of the cuts to Higher Education that are sweeping through British universities, and I'm sure that I won't be the only one to find myself surplus to the requirements of the neo-liberal vision for Higher Education. Research excellence in Philosophy and other Humanities subjects is, in the end, not 'valuable' enough for institutions to protect as they come under pressure to trim their expenditure and meet market demands. If we do not have 'intellectual capital' that can be 'exploited' in the 'knowledge economy', then we are of little worth to universities who now see research primarily as a source of 'income generation'.

Philosophy and Humanities courses are also under threat. The Philosophy programme at Middlesex is closing down, and there are similar threats to the Philosophy and the Professional Ethics programmes at Keele. These subjects will, eventually, be the preserve of the elite who attend the top few universities that can afford to host them. The post-1990 revolution which saw the expansion of the teaching of radical theory to students who were only supposed to be trained for the jobs market is being dismantled. And the tragedy is that the Philosophy and Humanities courses that will get offered in those few elite institutions will be far from radical in content.

Guerilla Philosophy is about finding a way to keep the fire of radical critique burning, especially for those who find themselves without an institutional context. We have to become Guerilla Philosophers, standing outside and in opposition to institutional power, finding ways of speaking and having our voice heard. And that voice has to be critical and oppositional.

The aim of this site is to offer an initial space for those critical voices, and lead to the formation of The Guerilla Philosophy Collective, which can create more spaces and a louder voice. We can also offer support to those who are under threat, or who find themselves outside of an institution through no fault of their own, ensuring that they do not disappear from view. The danger is that we will be silenced, and this is a very small step towards ensuring that this does not happen.

There is no manifesto here, just a determination to enable an oppositional critique of the neo-liberal revolutionary movement that, for the moment, is setting the agenda for Higher Education and the wider society. We can use this space to develop arguments, post news, organise and publicise events, create networks and resources for resistance. This is the beginning, not the end.