The phone hacking scandal in the UK two years ago focused the world’s attention on media misconduct like rarely before. What was particularly shocking was that tabloid reporters hacked into and deleted the voice mail messages left by a missing 13-year-old girl, who was later found dead.
It triggered public outrage — understandably so — and led to the shutting down of Britain’s biggest Sunday paper, the arrests of the Prime Minister’s spokesman and several journalists and senior newspaper executives, the resignation of the country’s highest-ranking police officer, and the setting up of a public inquiry under Lord Justice Leveson.
A debate has raged since about whether the media should be subjected to greater regulation – not just in the UK, but in democracies around the world. Sections of the political class have, not surprisingly, supported the idea of stricter oversight and punishment.
There is often a thin line between regulation and control. In India, there have been periodic efforts at muzzling the media, most infamously during the Emergency. It is as much the public’s responsibility as it is the media’s to ensure that every such attempt is vigorously resisted. The media is meant to act as a watchdog; it has a duty to tell people things their governments don’t want them to know (barring genuinely sensitive information). This perforce casts it in an adversarial role.
The idea of democracy is predicated on freedom of the press (‘media’ and ‘press’ are used interchangeably here, and include print, broadcast and online). As the First Amendment of the US Constitution said, “Congress shall make no law…abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble…” And while our own Constitution does not specifically refer to freedom of the press, it is implied in Article 19, which lists freedom of speech and expression as one of our fundamental rights. Various courts have over the years emphasised the centrality of freedom of the press to the democratic process.
Does that mean the media should not be held accountable for what it writes or broadcasts? Absolutely not.
Every industry and profession has a responsibility to its customers and clients. Just as an automobile manufacturer needs to answer for faulty brakes or a pharmaceutical company for substandard drugs or a CA firm for the quality of its audits, a newspaper or a TV channel must answer for inaccurate and irresponsible reporting.
Unlike say, a builder or a doctor, a journalist cannot directly cause a person’s death. But his incompetence or dishonesty can cause damage that some, especially the more righteous, might consider a fate worse than death – loss of reputation.
Yes, there are laws against defamation, slander and libel. While article 19(1)(a) guarantees free speech and expression, 19(2) specifies the grounds for “reasonable restrictions” on free speech (defamation, public order, incitement to an offence, etc).
But in practice, the media is protected, more by default than design, by the glacial speed at which things move through our judiciary. Most journalists know it takes years for a defamation case (like most other cases) to reach legal closure — unless the aggrieved party has the resources to hasten the process. By then the damage has been done. Punitive action, either in the form of compensation or an apology, a decade later is cold consolation for a person whose standing in society has been dented (although increasingly, it would appear that people don’t care).
There is also the Press Council of India, set up as a statutory body under a 1978 Act, to ensure freedom of the press and to hear complaints against newspapers. While Wikipedia describes it as an “extremely powerful body”, truth is, very few newspapers quake at the thought of being censured by the council.
A parliamentary standing committee recently submitted a report recommending either a single regulatory body for print and electronic media or a diarchy in which the Press Council has enhanced powers and there is a similar statutory body for the electronic media.
Such proposals have obviously not found great favour with the media, whose contention has always been: We don’t need outsiders to regulate us, we can do it ourselves.
There is reason to oppose external controls. What is the guarantee that the hidden hand of government will not seek to strangle a newspaper or channel that it considers inimical to its interests? Governments have been known to exert influence over institutions that are supposed to be completely independent. As it is, governments across the country routinely try to browbeat newspapers that run unfavourable stories by cutting off advertising — which amounts to abuse of power because it is taxpayers money they are using as leverage to block the people’s right to information. Many small and financially fragile papers, which depend on such advertising for survival, are often forced to fall in line.
Much of the credit for exposing corruption in high places must go to the media. It has acted, at least in some small way, as a check on governments, public officials and corporations from subverting the system.
But while the media is often quick to demand accountability from the executive and the legislature, who does it answer to? The obvious answer is: To the public in general and to its readers/viewers in particular.
As we all know, practice doesn’t always measure up to principle. Ministers and legislators can also seek refuge behind a similar defence by claiming, “We are elected by the people, and we answer to them. If they don’t like us, if they think we have lost the right to hold office, they can always vote us out.” But take a look at the scandals around us: Does it look like our politicians shiver with fear at the thought of their less-than-ethical practices inviting electoral backlash?
TV channels and newspapers like to claim that their viewers/readers have the freedom to switch out/unsubscribe, which would be bad for subscription and advertising revenue. So, if for nothing else, they’ll stay honest because it makes business sense.
There is some merit in this line of argument, but only up to a point. Corruption, whether at an individual or an institutional level, does not follow the laws of ethical business as they are taught in B-schools. When a journalist writes with mala fide intent, he is obviously not concerned about damaging reputations — of others, or his own.
One would like to believe that such dishonesty exists only on the fringes of established mainstream media, and that an overwhelming majority of us cannot be influenced to write in lieu of monetary or other favours. (We are leaving aside intellectual dishonesty, which is a separate subject by itself. Also, sponsored features or ‘advertorials’ do not fall under this category.)
So why do newspapers and TV channels still make so many mistakes, including some that can hurt people and their reputations? Much of it has to do with subject ignorance, lack of application (which is a polite way of saying ‘laziness’), inadequate fact-checking, and the rush to be first at any cost. A few unintentional, genuine mistakes are perhaps inevitable, even pardonable, given the tight deadlines newspapers and channels have to race against day in and night out — so long as those mistakes don’t end up hurting innocent people. And so long as we in media are prompt in acknowledging our mistakes.
The media’s challenge is to strike a delicate balance between being aggressive, sceptical and independent on one hand, and sensitive, decent and knowledgeable on the other. Combining so many attributes might seem like a tall order, but we need to hold ourselves to a higher standard. The paper I work for has taken a decision to play down news of school students committing suicide during exams and results. We are aware that other papers might choose to splash such ‘stories’ on front page, and we might look like we have missed them, but so be it. We believe it’s the right thing to do.
At the end of the day, we in the media need to do the right thing. This might sound simplistic, to the point of naivete. How can anyone expect a growing, fragmented, competitive industry that lies at the intersection of politics, business and a society in churn to develop the collective conscience to do the ‘right thing’? Surely, we’re expecting too much? Perhaps. But if an overwhelming majority of the media can learn to be fair and responsible, the law as it exists today is good enough to deal with a few rogue elements. Every industry has its seamy underbelly, but that cannot be a reason for any government to bring an AK-47 to a wrestling match.
If however the public comes to believe the media is incapable of managing its own house, we could be opening ourselves up to calls for tougher legislation and regulation. Recent developments in cricket should serve as a cautionary tale for all of us.
