The Invasion of Privacy
U. CHARLES CHAPLIN lately complained of a -I- cinema merchant who; without a by-your-leave, had prepared a moving picture of his early life. The matter, I believe, is to be brought before the courts, and therefore I may not say anything about it, except this, that when Mr. Chaplin's complaint was pub- lished, someone asserted that he had no legal right to resent the invasion of his privacy. This person did not believe that Mr. Chaplin or anyone else had the right to prevent a cinema merchant from making a film about him and exhibiting it for profit wherever he pleased. The assertion sounds sensational, but it may be sound in law.
Newspapers claim that they have a right to publish anyone's photograph even if the original of the photograph objects to its publication. I have no knowledge of the law, and I neither affirm nor deny this claim ; but I do know that newspaper editors habitually behave as if they had a lawful right to publish photographs without the knowledge of the photographed or even against their wish. The invasion of privacy is so commonly made now that some newspaper men openly assert that they have the right to enter a man's house and make enquiries about him, if, by any chance or misfortune, he becomes "news." There seems to be no decency which certain Papers will not outrage in the interests of " news," and private sorrow or trouble is not safe from their impertinent questions. I remember, a few years ago, that the relatives of a man on whom an inquest was to be held passionately protested before the coroner against the way in which reporters with notebooks and cameras pushed their way into their house and afflicted them with enquiries. When a man of some note lately became dangerously ill his distracted wife was obliged to have her telephone disconnected because she was rung up about once every half-hour by reporters enquiring how he was. " It waS as if," she said, " they were saving, Isn't he dead yet ? ' " When Mr. Galsworthy's play, The Show, was performed at St. Martin's Theatre, some journalists protested against the " caricature " of a journalist in it ; but I could not see (a) any caricature in the part, or (b) any warrant for complaint from men who so frequently give greater offence than was given by Mr. Galsworthy.
A young girl, under twenty, who is known to me, engaged herself to marry a notable young man occupied in public affairs. The engagement was subsequently broken. Here, one would have thought, was an oceasior when prying for " news " might not be done ; but. some .editors thought otherwise, and a crowd of reporters descended upon this girl at a time when she was probably feeling unhappy, to enquire why she was not going to marry the man to whom she had been engaged !
That seems to me to be a matter of a strictly private nature, and I think the girl's parents would have been justified if they had thrown the reporters into the street —although, of course, it is not the fault of the reporters but of the news editors who sent them. What arc called " gossip pages " have now become common in many newspapers, and these pages are made up of contributions from all sorts of people, professional and amatenr journalists. The mania for printing paragraphs about private persons has become so virulent that people are almost afraid to speak in company, lest someone present will immediately hurry off to a newspaper office and sell a. paragraph about them for half a crown or five shillings. A club was formerly considered to be a place where a person might speak freely in the knowledge that what he said would not be repeated outside. That is no longer true of some clubs, and I know of one whose membership included the editor of a widely circulated and important London daily paper. One evening he incautiously told a story to a group of his fellow-members. It was harmless, but it was the sort of story one does not wish to sec in print. It appeared in another newspaper on the following morning ! He immediately resigned his membership of that club, and rightly, too, for club-life becomes impossible, as, indeed, does all social life, if we cannot be sure that our conversation, especially when it is indiscreet, will be considered to be private.
Some clubs now blackball on general principles all candidates for membership who arc known to be writers of gossipy-journalism. This is a trifle hard on the working journalist, who generally has enough gumption not to abuse confidences, and it does not dispose of the greatest offender, the " amateur " journalist, who, unknown to his friends, is busily taking mental notes of what he hears them say, and hawking the resulting paragraphs in Fleet Street.
The recent exposure 'of a scandalous book of alleged reminiscences will probably diminish the number of these gossip-mongers. It certainly will cause newspaper readers to attach less value to " gossip " than they did before The Whispering Gallery was published. No one can hope to reduce the volume of tittle-tattle there is in any community, nor is it desirable that it should be reduced, for all gossip, even when it is malicious or plainly untrue, is entertaining. We know that it is gossip and we esteem its worth accordingly. But when it is printed it acquires a value in the eyes of undisceming people to which it has no title, and things are firmly believed, because they have been seen in print, which would be treated as jocular stuff not intended to be regarded as true if they were only heard.
The general result of all this published gossip is that a man is obliged to submit to some invasion of his privacy lest he should suffer worse wrong. People permit them- selves to be photographed for picture papers because, if they decline to pose, the camera-man will "snap" them when they are unaware of his presence, and he will not be too careful about " snapping " them in a becoming attitude. There is, it seems, no remedy. A man has no rights in his own face.
ST. JOHN ERVINE.
Previous page
