'Are media executives now fair game?' asks the Guardian. You bet they are
STEPHEN GLOVER
The BBC's political editor, Andrew Marr, is not at all pleased with my colleague Peter Oborne. Over breakfast at the Labour party conference, he called Mr Oborne 'a sanctimonious shit'. Evidently there was quite a scene. What could be the reason for this outburst? Mr Marr was upset by something Mr Oborne had written in the Mail on Sunday. The article had suggested that Radio Four's Today programme last Saturday devoted too much time to discussing John Major's affair with Edwina Currie. Mr Oborne also wrote that Mr Marr's observation on air that John Major was a more 'interesting, rounded and complicated person' than was previously thought was 'squalid, false and immoral'.
Mr Marr's judgment was morally obtuse. The Today programme probably did clear the decks because a Tory ex-prime minister was involved. Interestingly. the BBC has shown much less interest in the allegations of Joe Haines, who was once Harold Wilson's press secretary. Mr Haines alleges that Marcia Falkender claimed to have slept with the former Labour prime minister, whose confidante and adviser she was. More spectacular still, Mr Haines also alleges that Harold Wilson's doctor, a chap by the name of Dr Stone, plotted to kill Marcia Falkender. I realise that this is supposed to have taken place quite a long time ago, and that many young reporters may never have heard of Harold Wilson. But the BBC's lack of interest in the story, and that of most of the press, tells us something. All the same, John Major's affair with Edwina Currie is surely a matter of enormous public interest since it may help us to understand his paranoid attitude towards newspapers — he must have lived under daily fear of disclosure — and his reluctance to dismiss colleagues who had also erred.
What interests me here, though, is not so much the rights and wrongs of the dispute as Mr Marr's extreme reaction. For if Mr Oborne had written in such terms about a leading politician, it is most unlikely that he or she would have remonstrated in public. Politicians are accustomed to being attacked, whether fairly or unfairly. Journalists of the eminence of Mr Marr may hand it out, but they do not expect others to hand it out to them. Why not? Mr Marr is a very important public figure who almost every hour of the day offers his opinion on political developments. He is not merely holding a mirror up to nature as reporters may once have done — witness his judgment on John Major's affair. He is a leading member of the 'commentariat' (a group generally much more highly paid than leading politicians) and should not be surprised if others comment adversely on him, as he does on others.
A recent item in the Ephraim Hardcastle column in the Daily Mail illustrates the point. In the old days. writes Ephraim, journalists used to cover party conferences. Now they perform at them. Among those booked to speak at this week's Labour party conference were Robert Thomson, editor of the Times, and his columnist Mary Ann Sieghart; Jon Snow of Channel 4; Donald Macintyre of the Independent; Polly Toynbee. Jonathan Freedland, Jackie Ashley, Roy Greenslade and Gary Younge of the Guardian; Martha Kearney. Guto Harri and Evan Davis of the BBC. No doubt right-wing editors and journalists will be performing in a similar fashion at next week's Tory party conference. Unlike Ephraim Hardcastle, I do not particularly object. It is inevitable that members of our greatly expanded and self-satisfied cornmentariat should fan out of their newspaper strongholds on to the national stage, where they recommend policies, hector politicians, and generally tell people how best to conduct their lives.
But most of them, like Mr Marr, have not even begun to consider the consequences of playing such a role. Most members of the commentariat, when told they are public figures, will point out that they are not elected. They will say that they do not build hospitals, raise taxes or have their fingers on the nuclear button. That, of course, is true. (Thank God, most people will say.) But the point about not being elected can cut both ways. Leading members of the commentariat are public figures and yet they are unelected, though they will usually say, when pressed on this point, that they derive their legitimacy from their readers. One might reasonably argue that, being unelected yet claiming public legitimacy, the commentariat should expect at least as much scrutiny as elected representatives.
To most journalists this is a horrifying idea. I was struck this week by a leading article in the Guardian. It took it for granted that John Major had little cause to complain about Edwina Currie's revelation of their affair. Mr Major had, in the paper's view, championed moral values. But it took exception to a recent story in the Mail on Sunday which revealed that Dawn Airey, the chief executive of Channel 5 who is moving on to greater glory at BSkyB, shares a flat with Jacquie Lawrence, who is responsible for Dyke TV, a series about lesbianism, and does her best to promote lesbian rights. The Guardian thought it was no business of the Mail on Sunday if these two women have a lesbian relationship. But would it draw the same conclusion if one or both of them were members of the Cabinet? Ms Airey is, after all, an extremely influential public figure, and it could be argued that her sexual values are a matter of public interest. The Guardian could justifiably take a different view. But its headline over the leader — 'Are media executives now fair game?' — seems to imply that leading media figures should not expect to be treated by the press in the same way as leading political figures.
This is a very difficult argument to sustain. Surely one reason for the general unpopularity of journalists is their tendency to apply much harsher judgments to others than we do to ourselves. The cornmentariat comforts itself with the thought that there is no group of people who can do to it what it does to others. But things may be changing. Partly because of the proliferation of media columns, journalists are prepared to chastise one another much more than was the case ten years ago. Mr Oborne's criticisms of Mr Marr are a case in point. On a more serious level, journalists are taking a greater interest in the probity of their colleagues. David Yelland, editor of the Sun, is said to have an as yet unpublished dossier on the financial dealings of his counterpart at the Daily Mirror, Piers Morgan, who is himself threatening to expose the editor of Private Eye. It will probably all get very messy. Many of the allegations will be driven by personal hatreds or competitive jealousies as much as by a search for truth. But is that not sometimes the case when journalists attack leading politicians? Lines have to be established to protect the private lives of all public figures, but they should be the same lines for everyone. My argument is simply that the commentariat must learn to take the medicine which it so freely hands out.
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