Baby P, the BNP and the death of anonymity

Modern technology has killed off many old traditions. Why have a car phone when you can have an iPhone? Why have a video recorder when you can have YouTube? And why have a law of privacy when you can have the internet?

I know the full name of Baby P’s mother, his stepfather, and even the child himself. I know the names of over 10,000 BNP members, their addresses, and the fact that their hobbies include model trains, growing mistletoe and medieval longbow (yes, really). I know all of this not through any sort of journalistic privilege, but through less than five minutes of selective searching on Google.

As journalists-in-training, my City colleagues and I currently spend an hour and a half every Monday with ITN’s chief lawyer, John Battle. We are learning about libel, privacy, contempt of court and other laws which our working reputations will rest on. But if we actually wanted to put our careers on the line by naming any of these people in print, could we really do it any faster than the general public?

The identity of Baby P’s mother and stepfather were revealed by “Facebook vigilantes” and a mass text message. The leaked BNP list has been reposted online as many times as it has been removed, and has now even spawned a dedicated website to help “find the Nazis near you”. The only people likely to lose their jobs over it are those named as members. It seems like journalists are the least of the law’s worries.

Regulations imposed on reporters are woefully out of date in an age where blogging and social networking can break any story before the printing presses have even warmed up. British law, particularly concerning contempt of court, urgently needs to be rewritten: not to protect individuals who commit crimes, but to protect the legal system by keeping trials fair. It is no more acceptable for judicial integrity to be compromised by the public than by the press.

In fact, it seems that the only place anonymity lives on these days is at The Economist. As my colleague Katrina complained recently, it continues to hide its journalistic light under an unbylined bushel (unless, of course, Adrian Monck and Andreas Kluth have anything to do with it). The decision to publish anonymously comes from the belief that “what is written is more important than who writes it”. The British legal system could learn a thing or two from that principle.