News, notes, other stuff

04 December, 2012

Law 2: Investigative Journalism

Investigative journalism is the umbrella term for stories which have been initiated by journalists; it's about not sticking to the traditional news agenda mix of parliament, court, local government, and so on. To paraphrase Chris in our lecture: "We're not just on the treadmill of news, we get off it and make our own news."

Because of this, it's good to categorise investigations as 'news features' - features aren't scheduled, and neither are investigations. The only difference here is that news features would still be editorially led.

So, if you've got no agenda, then how do you come up with lines of investigation in the first place? Usually most big investigations flower from tip-offs or whistle-blowers within an organisation that know something crooked is going on and want the corruption to be exposed through an appropriate agency: you. You, the big, clever, handsome Hero Journalist.

However, lots of investigative journalism stems from a suspicion on the behalf of the journalist that something isn't quite right with a particular individual or organisation, and who then sets about to uncover the truth.

Chris used Louis Theroux and himself as examples of this kind of method. Both examples were pretty similar - investigations of the supposed re-branding of certain political groups.



While working on Michael Moore's TV Nation series, Louis Theroux thought he'd just mosey on along to a Klan meeting to see if their new-and-improved Kuddly Klansmen image actually had any truth to it. The KKK had been trying to claim that the old lynchin' days of yore were long gone, and instead they are simply a white civil rights group.

Theroux's meeting with them highlighted that they were, perhaps, taking creative liberties with the phrase 'civil rights' and that they were still racist idiots.

The premise of Chris's investigation for his book True Blue was similar. He said that he didn't quite believe that the Tories had succeeded in their supposed metamorphosis from a toffee nosed, cravat-wearing old boys club to... well, whatever they were meant to have changed in to. He and another journalist, Dave Matthews, went 'undercover' and signed up for a membership at a local Conservative club.

They found that Conservatives were mostly still cravat wearing.

Miscarriages of justice

"Who guards the guardians?"

Some of the best investigations were those that sought to uncover a miscarriage of justice. People find miscarriages of justice to be so incredibly mindblowing because it means that somewhere in the production line of justice, in the police or in the courts, something has gone horribly wrong.

While journalists have no legal or constitutional right to hold police accountable to mistakes or corruption, it's taken as a given that the press have a duty to do this. We can be the bloodhound, as well as the watchdog.

The Birmingham Six
were six men who were convicted of bombing a pub while working for the Provisional IRA in 1975. Their convictions were later quashed by the Court of Appeal in 1991. World in Action broadcast a series of programmes throughout the 80s which cast serious doubts on the convictions of the six men who were then rotting away in prison; it is argued that without the interest World in Action drummed up in their case, that it would never have been reviewed by the Court of Appeal.

The evidence gap

The evidence gap is where all the good stuff happens.

In a civil court - the court that deals with libel - the standard of proof is 'on the balance of probability.'
In a criminal court, the standard of proof is 'beyond all reasonable doubt.'

It is in the gap between 'probably' and 'almost definitely' that investigative journalism flourishes.

A great example of this is the Daily Mail's front page about Stephen Lawrence - a teenager that was killed by a gang in 1993. Those accused at the time were never convicted, but the evidence against them was strong: strong enough that, should the Daily Mail have been sued for libelling these men as murderers, it was likely that a jury would rule in favour of the Mail. That's because based on the evidence available, they probably are murderers, and so their reputation is not being damaged by the Mail.

Remembering that it's 'probably', not 'definitely', is important. The investigation carried out by journalists should always be thorough, accurate and in the public interest. The evidence they come out with should be incredibly compelling, but it doesn't have to be so compelling as to be admissible in a criminal case because that is not our job.

We're not the police, we're not worrying about double jeopardy and getting a conviction. We don't need to convince the public that someone is guilty of wrongdoing beyond reasonable doubt because that isn't our duty. Our duty as journalists extends far enough to prove that corruption or hypocrisy is probably happening, but then we hand over to the authorities to do the rest.

Sometimes, the police will specifically tell you to write about someone who they know is a criminal but can't quite catch yet with their limited evidence, because the publicity can help to identify witnesses. If a eyewitness comes forward and is willing to testify, then a conviction becomes that much more likely and the police will feel braver to arrest and charge and a a known criminal.

Veronica Guerin

Veronica Guerin was an Irish crime reporter who was murdered in the pursuit of a story. As such, she's often thought of as a 'saint' of journalism, and with little wonder: even though she had previously received numerous death threats and had been hospitalised by the organised criminals she was trying to report on, she still kept at it and ended up being shot three times in the head for her trouble.

She had identified that the police and the local crime lords were in bed with each other, and so to prove this she started writing features asking why certain officers who were on > £13,000 per year and men with no declared income had such luxurious lifestyles.

This attracted extremely negative attention, but she was determined to expose the collaboration of the police and criminals in Ireland.

Subterfuge

Subterfuge is a method of obtaining evidence for a story by pretending you are someone else, and definitely not disclosing that you're a journalist. The most prevalent example is of 'hidden camera' footage that you'll regularly see on shows like Panorama. This is obviously quite unethical, and so before setting out to secretly film people you have to prove that you absolutely will not be able to cover this story without the footage. You also have to prove that it is conclusively in the public interest for you to do so.

The Secret Policeman is a great example of fantastic investigative journalism that used subterfuge - reporter Mark Daly spent 18 months of his life committing himself to becoming a police officer, and when he did he exposed the racist beliefs of his colleagues on camera. His piece was broadcast on Panorama in 2003.

He would have argued to his editor that you can't simply ring up the police and ask 'Hey, are you guys still racist?' - the secret filming would have been the only way to make the story work. It's in the public interest because no one wants racist police, and it was without malice because there was iron clad proof that the assertions Daly was making were true.

The thing Daly would have to have been careful about was not entrapping the officers in to saying racist things - he could only ever participate minimally in such conversations and not deliberate solicit such comment.

In summary, use of subterfuge must be:

  • very much in the public interest
  • without malice
  • approved by the editor
  • the only way to make a story viable


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