Interview: Sir Christopher Meyer, PCC chairman (Evening Standard)
By David Rowan
Sir Christopher Meyer, KCMG, former ambassador to Washington and Bonn, is the consummate career diplomat. So when he takes on the Archbishop of Canterbury in defence of Britain's newspapers, one imagines that Meyer, chairman of the Press Complaints Commission, knows exactly how many feathers he will be ruffling.
He is not, he stresses in his office behind Fleet Street, giving the PCC's "formal" response to Rowan Williams' recent speech denouncing journalism's "lethally damaging" practices. But Meyer - "as a punter, a reader" - thinks Williams has got his facts wrong. "I don't agree with him," he says firmly. "I didn't find the speech particularly easy to understand, and I wasn't quite clear what he was getting at. He used a curious phrase about the purpose of media being 'to nourish the common good'. Great phrase, but it begs a thousand questions."
In two years chairing print journalism's self-regulation body, Meyer, 61, has become used to deflecting critical barbs, ranging from sneers about his "cosy editors' club" to Parliamentary attempts to overturn its limited powers. So he is unlikely to flinch when the head of the Anglican Church offers his views. "In the debate about the role of media, it's important not to get into a
situation where you, anyone, has a view of the 'common good' or what should be a 'newspaper of record'," he says pointedly. "That's a disguise for trying to impose a particular view. I mean, this is democracy; let a thousand opinions bloom."
Nor does Meyer have much time for Jon Snow's defence of Williams on this page last week, in which the Channel 4 News presenter condemned the "manifestly absurd fiction" of "unaccountable" editors judging each other at the PCC. "There is a certain snobbery in television, a de haut en bas about the writing press," Meyer retorts. "TV people quite commonly haven't a clue about how the PCC works. All this crap about sitting in judgment... for Christ's sake, that's just not true. Newspapers report" - he bangs the table - "and they opine. Channel 4 News sits in judgment every evening. A little bit of research by some of our critics would be a very good corrective."
Today, the PCC offers some facts to challenge its critics' assertions, in the form of its latest annual review. Last year, the commission attracted 3,618 complaints, not all falling within its remit; of the 900 it ruled on, just eight were formally upheld and required in-paper adjudications. The stark disparity results from its preference for negotiated, informal settlements: in complaints where accuracy was at issue, 327 out of 333 possible breaches of the PCC code were settled by mutual agreement. "These figures are a clear riposte to those who believe that there should be a legally enforceable right of reply," Meyer writes in the introduction. "There is simply no need for one."
That remains a contentious assertion. Last February, Peter Bradley, a Labour MP, introduced a private members' bill demanding a statutory body that would force newspapers to correct significant errors. The bill failed, but Bradley's argument that PCC complaints were "futile" attracted cross-party support and that of the NUJ. "It was a pitiful debate, and Bradley, who got his statistics completely wrong, was firmly whacked on the head by the government minister," Meyer says dismissively. "He missed a crucial point - that the original Calcutt investigation into press regulation decided that we should seek to resolve complaints between plaintiff and editor." Business, in fact, has been "booming" since Meyer took over, largely because the PCC "effectively addresses" concerns about accuracy or intimidation.
Yet if it is so effective, why have the Barclay brothers chosen to bypass the PCC in pursuing The Times in a French court? "Heresy, my dear boy," Meyer deflects playfully. "If you're an aggrieved reader, you should have a choice. You can write to the editor or perhaps an ombudsman, always a good thing. There's the PCC , which doesn't cost you anything or need a lawyer, and can resolve complaints in under six weeks. Or you can go to law. But if you do, it's going to cost, it will be much slower than here, and, if a privacy issue, ironically, you'll have your entire private life turned inside out. Naomi Campbell and Catherine Zeta Jones attract the headlines, but meanwhile we're quietly dealing with hundreds of cases."
It's hardly a vote of confidence, though, given that the Barclays' papers are signed up to the PPC code? "Such a tendentious, nasty question," Meyer replies, rather more aggressive now. "It's one egregious example. It doesn't bother me in the least if the Barclay brothers choose not to come here. Whether they should be going to a French jurisdiction - that's a matter of controversy."
A persistent criticism is that the commission is toothless, unable to award damages or costs or to issue injunctions. That's why Naomi Campbell took her privacy case against the Mirror straight to law. "Yes, David, and if people want those things, don't come to us. But how long has she been in the courts now? Three years? In which time we've learned just about everything about her condition. When people say we're toothless - such a cliche, so boring - they do not understand that a system of fines would be unworkable. You'd be lucky to resolve a case in a year. The one thing editors loathe is having to stick a negative adjudication into their newspaper, which basically says you screwed up."
Yet, as he readily admits, this sanction was used just eight times last year. The commission's apparent aversion to stamping down on editors certainly infuriated Fiona Millar, who complained in The Guardian that its "cosy" dealings with the Mail on Sunday led to errors about her going uncorrected. "Fiona Miller was very aggrieved, and I regret that," Meyer replies. "Listen, there are a few people sitting inside the M25 who bang on about self-regulation. They have their own agendas. If we brought in capital punishment for editors instead of an adjudication, that wouldn't be enough for them, even if I personally executed them. But go out into the country at large, nobody ever comes at me on this stuff."
With seven editors out of 18 commissioners, it would arguably breach Clause 1 (Accuracy) to portray the PCC as simply a "cosy editors' club". Yet if it is truly to represent "ordinary people", why are 17 of them white, the other Singapore-born? "Oh, for Pete's sake, I have never heard such an absurd question." By now, any remaining cosiness in the room has evaporated. I suggest that narrow ethnic representation may reinforce unfortunate perceptions of clubbishness. "When I arrived, we had an Indian lady on the commission," he splutters. "We choose on merit. To me, it's irrelevant."
A swift change of subject is in order. In his forthcoming book, a leaked preview of which appeared last week, did he, as Jonathan Powell of No 10 apparently ordered, "get up the arse of the White House and stay there" while Washington ambassador from 1997? "My dear chap, this is an interview about the PPC," he says, suitably jovial once more. "Just wait and see. I haven't even finished it."
Final question. Does Meyer trust what he reads in the popular press? "I know what I'm reading," he replies warily. "I think I read them intelligently." Ah, but with the rare benefit of a Lancing-Peterhouse-FCO education ...
"You have just committed the most appalling Londonophile metropolitan heresy I've heard for a long time," he interrupts, delighted to have scored the final sparring point. "The notion that this is a nation of twits! The one thing I've learned in a peripatetic career is that people spot very rapidly what's crap and what isn't. That's a major misunderstanding."
Though not, thankfully, one yet covered by Sir Christopher's code.
(Evening Standard, July 6 2005)
. . . AND READ MORE MEDIA INTERVIEWS HERE . . .
Sir Christopher Meyer, KCMG, former ambassador to Washington and Bonn, is the consummate career diplomat. So when he takes on the Archbishop of Canterbury in defence of Britain's newspapers, one imagines that Meyer, chairman of the Press Complaints Commission, knows exactly how many feathers he will be ruffling.
He is not, he stresses in his office behind Fleet Street, giving the PCC's "formal" response to Rowan Williams' recent speech denouncing journalism's "lethally damaging" practices. But Meyer - "as a punter, a reader" - thinks Williams has got his facts wrong. "I don't agree with him," he says firmly. "I didn't find the speech particularly easy to understand, and I wasn't quite clear what he was getting at. He used a curious phrase about the purpose of media being 'to nourish the common good'. Great phrase, but it begs a thousand questions."
In two years chairing print journalism's self-regulation body, Meyer, 61, has become used to deflecting critical barbs, ranging from sneers about his "cosy editors' club" to Parliamentary attempts to overturn its limited powers. So he is unlikely to flinch when the head of the Anglican Church offers his views. "In the debate about the role of media, it's important not to get into a
situation where you, anyone, has a view of the 'common good' or what should be a 'newspaper of record'," he says pointedly. "That's a disguise for trying to impose a particular view. I mean, this is democracy; let a thousand opinions bloom."
Nor does Meyer have much time for Jon Snow's defence of Williams on this page last week, in which the Channel 4 News presenter condemned the "manifestly absurd fiction" of "unaccountable" editors judging each other at the PCC. "There is a certain snobbery in television, a de haut en bas about the writing press," Meyer retorts. "TV people quite commonly haven't a clue about how the PCC works. All this crap about sitting in judgment... for Christ's sake, that's just not true. Newspapers report" - he bangs the table - "and they opine. Channel 4 News sits in judgment every evening. A little bit of research by some of our critics would be a very good corrective."
Today, the PCC offers some facts to challenge its critics' assertions, in the form of its latest annual review. Last year, the commission attracted 3,618 complaints, not all falling within its remit; of the 900 it ruled on, just eight were formally upheld and required in-paper adjudications. The stark disparity results from its preference for negotiated, informal settlements: in complaints where accuracy was at issue, 327 out of 333 possible breaches of the PCC code were settled by mutual agreement. "These figures are a clear riposte to those who believe that there should be a legally enforceable right of reply," Meyer writes in the introduction. "There is simply no need for one."
That remains a contentious assertion. Last February, Peter Bradley, a Labour MP, introduced a private members' bill demanding a statutory body that would force newspapers to correct significant errors. The bill failed, but Bradley's argument that PCC complaints were "futile" attracted cross-party support and that of the NUJ. "It was a pitiful debate, and Bradley, who got his statistics completely wrong, was firmly whacked on the head by the government minister," Meyer says dismissively. "He missed a crucial point - that the original Calcutt investigation into press regulation decided that we should seek to resolve complaints between plaintiff and editor." Business, in fact, has been "booming" since Meyer took over, largely because the PCC "effectively addresses" concerns about accuracy or intimidation.
Yet if it is so effective, why have the Barclay brothers chosen to bypass the PCC in pursuing The Times in a French court? "Heresy, my dear boy," Meyer deflects playfully. "If you're an aggrieved reader, you should have a choice. You can write to the editor or perhaps an ombudsman, always a good thing. There's the PCC , which doesn't cost you anything or need a lawyer, and can resolve complaints in under six weeks. Or you can go to law. But if you do, it's going to cost, it will be much slower than here, and, if a privacy issue, ironically, you'll have your entire private life turned inside out. Naomi Campbell and Catherine Zeta Jones attract the headlines, but meanwhile we're quietly dealing with hundreds of cases."
It's hardly a vote of confidence, though, given that the Barclays' papers are signed up to the PPC code? "Such a tendentious, nasty question," Meyer replies, rather more aggressive now. "It's one egregious example. It doesn't bother me in the least if the Barclay brothers choose not to come here. Whether they should be going to a French jurisdiction - that's a matter of controversy."
A persistent criticism is that the commission is toothless, unable to award damages or costs or to issue injunctions. That's why Naomi Campbell took her privacy case against the Mirror straight to law. "Yes, David, and if people want those things, don't come to us. But how long has she been in the courts now? Three years? In which time we've learned just about everything about her condition. When people say we're toothless - such a cliche, so boring - they do not understand that a system of fines would be unworkable. You'd be lucky to resolve a case in a year. The one thing editors loathe is having to stick a negative adjudication into their newspaper, which basically says you screwed up."
Yet, as he readily admits, this sanction was used just eight times last year. The commission's apparent aversion to stamping down on editors certainly infuriated Fiona Millar, who complained in The Guardian that its "cosy" dealings with the Mail on Sunday led to errors about her going uncorrected. "Fiona Miller was very aggrieved, and I regret that," Meyer replies. "Listen, there are a few people sitting inside the M25 who bang on about self-regulation. They have their own agendas. If we brought in capital punishment for editors instead of an adjudication, that wouldn't be enough for them, even if I personally executed them. But go out into the country at large, nobody ever comes at me on this stuff."
With seven editors out of 18 commissioners, it would arguably breach Clause 1 (Accuracy) to portray the PCC as simply a "cosy editors' club". Yet if it is truly to represent "ordinary people", why are 17 of them white, the other Singapore-born? "Oh, for Pete's sake, I have never heard such an absurd question." By now, any remaining cosiness in the room has evaporated. I suggest that narrow ethnic representation may reinforce unfortunate perceptions of clubbishness. "When I arrived, we had an Indian lady on the commission," he splutters. "We choose on merit. To me, it's irrelevant."
A swift change of subject is in order. In his forthcoming book, a leaked preview of which appeared last week, did he, as Jonathan Powell of No 10 apparently ordered, "get up the arse of the White House and stay there" while Washington ambassador from 1997? "My dear chap, this is an interview about the PPC," he says, suitably jovial once more. "Just wait and see. I haven't even finished it."
Final question. Does Meyer trust what he reads in the popular press? "I know what I'm reading," he replies warily. "I think I read them intelligently." Ah, but with the rare benefit of a Lancing-Peterhouse-FCO education ...
"You have just committed the most appalling Londonophile metropolitan heresy I've heard for a long time," he interrupts, delighted to have scored the final sparring point. "The notion that this is a nation of twits! The one thing I've learned in a peripatetic career is that people spot very rapidly what's crap and what isn't. That's a major misunderstanding."
Though not, thankfully, one yet covered by Sir Christopher's code.
(Evening Standard, July 6 2005)
. . . AND READ MORE MEDIA INTERVIEWS HERE . . .
posted by David Rowan at Wednesday, July 06, 2005
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