Tag Archives: contempt

Insights into open justice law reform

By MARK PEARSON

The NSW Law Reform Commission is conducting a review into open justice. 

Congratulations to the NSW Government for commissioning such a review.

Here are some insights I will be presenting to a roundtable convened by the commission. Some are drawn from a joint preliminary submission I prepared with colleagues Jane Johnston, Patrick Keyzer and Anne Wallace. Others are my own views after considering the Commission’s Consultation Paper 22 on the topic.

1. Macro versus micro issues

My first major concern is to do with the nature of most such inquiries – their primary focus is on the reform of the law related to the topic in the particular jurisdiction – in this case NSW. While this inquiry’s terms of reference do direct it to consider the findings of the (Commonwealth) Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse regarding the public interest in exposing child sexual abuse offending and ‘comparable legal and practical arrangements elsewhere in Australia and overseas’, the latter consideration is mainly used as a reference point to help guide the NSW reforms. There is too little encouraging steps towards uniformity of the laws across jurisdictions, which should be the number one priority in an era where media and social media defy jurisdictional borders. To this end:

a. A key recommendation should be to collaborate with other jurisdictions (perhaps using joint law reform commission inquiries on such matters) to achieve a semblance of uniformity so that journalists and others do not need to know the myriad of publishing restrictions that might apply to a single investigation or post across multiple states and territories (plus the Commonwealth).

b. When reviewing the micro changes to particular rules or laws affecting media research or publication, such inquiries should provide a table of inter-jurisdictional approaches to the topic and then propose the most common/popular approach as the default, only supplanted by compelling arguments to the contrary. This would represent a significant step to uniformity on each facet of the reforms.

c. Reform commissions should seek out national solutions to cross-jurisdictional publishing problems. For example, on the topic of a register of suppression orders, a recommendation should be that the Attorney-General be advised to bring forward to the Meeting of Attorneys-General (MAG) a proposal for a new national register of suppression orders, with all state, territory and Commonwealth jurisdictions feeding into the system. The Commission should be applauded for suggesting a national regime for access to court documents as part of its consultation paper (at p. 155).

2. Micro issues

I bring to the roundtable some views on the specific topic at hand – ‘Enforcing restrictions on publication or disclosure and other digital technology issues’.

a. The Commission is considering two options to help increase awareness of the existence of suppression and non-publication orders – to either to improve the notification system by establishing a new public body to notify likely parties that a suppression order exists, or to create a searchable register of NSW suppression orders available to the public and/or the media. To my mind, these options should not be mutually exclusive. Both could be proposed, and the proposal for a register should suggest a collaboration for a new national system. Any notification body should also be briefed to monitor social media actively for breaches and notifications/warnings, because the mainstream media is strongly disadvantaged by the current situation that allows for rampant social media discussion in breach of suppression orders while the media, who are aware of such orders, have their hands tied and continue to lose audience to social media in the process.

b. The issue of the extraterritorial application of offences for the breach of NSW publishing restrictions also has strong social media vs mainstream media dimensions. A breach by traditional media becomes much more obvious and enforceable, even though its audience might only number in the thousands while social media users might be committing the same breach in their millions. This happened in the Pell case in Victoria. So too did the international breach of orders by major media entities beyond the reach of prosecutors. It can become futile to issue and attempt to enforce restrictions when there is no international reach. Nevertheless, a social media active approach by the proposed new public body could make some inroads.

c. International online intermediaries need to be held account for not acting within a reasonable time to remove flagrant breaches of publishing restrictions once they have been brought to their attention. Given the size of such operations, a 24 hour notice period should be negotiable starting point as a time limit after notification. Again, a new public body established in this space could be responsible for monitoring and initiating such demands on a routine basis.

d. The myriad of offences, penalties, elements and exceptions certainly require standardisation to a recklessness standard. Strict liability is too high a hurdle given the widespread level of court and justice illiteracy among the broader social media population. Financially stricken mainstream media organisation have also reduced training in this space. A new public body with judicial powers could institute a warning system once a breach has been identified, and breaches could then be dealt with as disobedience contempt or at an “intent” level if the breach recurs after the warning.

e. This approach would feed into the question of support standardising penalties across the different offences. Defiance of an order could be dealt with harshly under the disobedience contempt powers of the new public body. However, in a democratic society jail penalties should only be used in the most extreme cases of disobedience, and certainly not at first instance. Financial penalties – perhaps accompanied by other innovative orders related to suspension of social media use – should be preferred. The scale of financial penalties can increase for the most serious cases once imprisonment is removed from the equation.

f. Two years is too long a period to bring a prosecution for a publishing offence. A one year limitation period applies effectively to defamation, so there is no reason why it should not also apply to such publishing offences.

g. The suggestion to establish a Court Information Commissioner should be applauded, with the functions as described in the report.

h. Proposals for helping avoid juror to exposure to prejudicial information are reasonable, particularly having them swear or affirm they will not make inquiries, repeating jury directions and allowing judge-alone trials when pre-trial publicity has stood to prejudice proceedings. However, missing here is the mention of juror training in the area. A simple juror course on the issue can be administered and tested online and would add to their understanding of the issue. Again, this is a topic that should be reformed nationally.

i. The extent to which the use of social media in court by journalists should be examined as part of national reform. Journalists attend court in different jurisdictions and there needs to be uniformity. A 15 minute delay before posting is a reasonable approach.

j. As virtual courts become more necessary and common, they should be as open to the public and media as other proceedings given the importance of open justice as a principle. New rules might need development and reinforcement, such as a ban on the screen capturing of images or broadcasting footage from proceedings, as with recent BBC contempt fine – https://www.lawgazette.co.uk/law/bbc-fined-28000-for-broadcasting-footage-of-remote-hearing/5107273.article


© Mark Pearson 2021

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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My latest Conversation piece on media implications of NT youth justice proposals #MLGriff

By MARK PEARSON

For the past week, momentum has been building for a national parliamentary inquiry into media freedom following the police raids on ABC and News Corp journalists.

But the issue of press freedom isn’t restricted to Canberra – there’s another contentious debate taking place at the moment in the Northern Territory over a plan by the government to close the NT’s courts to the media in cases involving young offenders.

The debate centres on a bill that would introduce the nation’s most restrictive rules on reporting on juvenile offenders, including punishments of up to a year in jail for journalists who enter a juvenile court or publish details of any case.

Interested? Read my full article in The Conversation: https://theconversation.com/nt-wants-to-end-naming-and-shaming-of-juvenile-offenders-sparking-press-freedom-debate-118170


© Mark Pearson 2019

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Last chance for a NSW law reform preliminary submission on open justice #MLGriff

By MARK PEARSON

Preliminary submissions to the NSW Law Reform Commission’s open justice review close tomorrow (May 31).

Media law students who have done assignments on this topic might polish them up and submit.

The review is examining the operation of suppression and non-publication orders and access to information in NSW courts and tribunals.

See their site for:

The Commission is  inviting preliminary submissions to help frame the issues they should address in consultations. Later in 2019, they promise to produce one or more consultation papers that ask about the issues identified by the terms of reference and any preliminary submissions they receive.

The deadline for preliminary submissions is Friday 31 May 2019.

Information about making a submission may be found on t website: Making a submission

 

© Mark Pearson 2019

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Our surveillance chapter in the new book ‘In The Name of Security’

By MARK PEARSON

Friend and colleague Joseph Fernandez (Curtin University) and I teamed up to write a chapter on surveillance and the media for a new book published by Anthem Press.

https://twitter.com/johanBalance/status/1004561304013627393

Ours is one of eleven chapters in the book In the Name of Security – Secrecy, Surveillance and Journalism (Anthem, 2018), edited by our journalism education colleagues Johan Lidberg (Monash University) and Denis Muller (University of Melbourne).

For full details and ordering information, please go to the Anthem Press site here.

The book description and our chapter abstract are as follows:

The terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center in New York on 11 September 2001 saw the start of the so-called war on terror. The aim of ‘In the Name of Security – Secrecy, Surveillance and Journalism’is to assess the impact of surveillance and other security measures on in-depth public interest journalism. How has the global fear-driven security paradigm sparked by 11 September affected journalism? Moves by governments to expand the powers of intelligence and security organizations and legislate for the retention of personal data for several years have the potential to stall investigative journalism. Such journalism, with its focus on accountability and scrutiny of powerful interests in society, is a pillar of democracy.

Investigative journalism informs society by providing information that enables citizens to have input into democratic processes. But will whistleblowers acting in public interest in future contact reporters if they risk being exposed by state and corporate surveillance? Will journalists provide fearless coverage of security issues when they risk jail for reporting them?

At the core of ‘In the Name of Security – Secrecy, Surveillance and Journalism’ sits what the authors have labeled the ‘trust us dilemma’. Governments justify passing, at times, oppressive and far-reaching anti-terror laws to keep citizens safe from terror. By doing so governments are asking the public to trust their good intentions and the integrity of the security agencies. But how can the public decide to trust the government and its agencies if it does not have access to information on which to base its decision?

‘In the Name of Security – Secrecy, Surveillance and Journalism’ takes an internationally comparative approach using case studies from the powerful intelligence-sharing group known as the Five Eyes consisting of the US, Canada, the UK, Australia and New Zealand. Chapters assessing a selection of EU countries and some of the BRICS countries provide additional and important points of comparison to the English-speaking countries that make up the Five Eyes.

The core questions in the book are investigated and assessed in the disciplines of journalism studies, law and international relations. The topics covered include an overview and assessment of the latest technological developments allowing the mass surveillance of large populations including the use of drones (Unmanned Aerial Vehicles).

Chapter 3. Surveillance and National Security ‘Hyper-Legislation’ – Calibrating Restraints on Rights with a Freedom of Expression Threshold, Mark Pearson and Joseph M Fernandez:

The post-11 September 2001, era has unleashed a plethora of laws invoking national security and antiterrorism justifications that have severely compromised a range of human rights and civil liberties, including freedoms associated with expression and information access. Roach has described such laws as ‘hyper-legislation’ (2011, 310). Such legislation has inflicted often-unjustified constraints upon journalists and journalism. The overly broad antiterrorism laws potentially ensnare reporters covering security matters and have inflicted repeated blows on investigative journalism in recent times (Weisbrot 2016). Insufficient attention, however, is paid to the potential for these constraints to be informed and moderated by the constitutional and human rights frameworks in which such laws are enacted. There has been inadequate resolve to protect the public interest by ensuring that journalists and journalism are able to properly perform their professional duties and obligations. This chapter uses archival research, analysis of statutes and case law to examine how freedom of expression constitutional and human rights provisions in the Five Eyes democracies have, in reality, offered minimal protection to journalists and their sources – particularly in Australia, where a constitutional protection for freedom of expression is lacking. The absence of strong protections or the rampant undermining of existing protections, in the face of what Agamben (2005, 1) describes as an ongoing ‘state of exception’ in the post–9/11 war on terror, presents the need for new mechanisms to provide journalists and their confidential sources adequate protection to enable them to fulfil their professional obligations.

The authors argue that the long-held importance of freedom of expression in democracies moots for workable and explicit public interest defences to allow for the reporting of national security matters without endangering journalists or the sanctity of their obligations to confidential sources. The chapter undertakes a case study of Australia which, unlike the other Five Eyes intelligence alliance members – New Zealand, Canada, the United Kingdom and the United States – has no explicit constitutional or human rights framework to compel the courts or the Parliament to recognize the adverse implications of legislation upon free expression or a free media. The Australian courts and the Parliament have, however, acknowledged free expression rights, drawing upon free expression jurisprudence through the common law; an implied freedom to communicate on matters of politics and government; and the protocols for a non-binding review of the implications of proposed legislation upon human rights under the Human Rights (Parliamentary Scrutiny) Act 2011 (Cth). This chapter considers these processes against the backdrop of the First Amendment obligations in the US Constitution, the UK’s free expression protection under Article 10 of its Human Rights Act 1998, guarantees on free expression, free media and free expression under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, and the free expression protection in New Zealand’s Bill of Rights Act 1990. The authors argue that, while each of these jurisdictions has national security laws that impact upon the media, each enshrines stringent checks upon the impacts of proposed legislation on free expression. The ongoing onslaught against freedom of expression under the banner of the continued state of exception, however, shows that the free expression protections offered by such rights instruments provide minimal protection to journalists and their confidential sources.

The chapter also reviews the use of specific devices to deny journalists and their work appropriate protections in fulfilling their professional duties and responsibilities, and weighs their efficacy in a national security and counterterrorism context. It identifies relevant terminology from case law and legislative instruments including defamation law, consumer law and privacy and shield laws, and assesses their potential value as exemptions or devices to better protect journalists in a national security context. In doing so, it draws upon some examples and cases from those jurisdictions.

Finally, the chapter reviews the extent of journalist and source protections in recent Australian national security laws and draws upon survey research to indicate their impact upon journalists. It recommends a key aspirational threshold that should underpin an objective public interest test to apply to journalism in a counterterrorism legislative context so as to better safeguard free expression, transparency in governance and protection for journalists’ confidential sources.

 

© Mark Pearson 2018

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Why the public isn’t allowed to know specifics about the George Pell case #MLGriff

By MARK PEARSON

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.

File 20180320 31614 7icnee.jpg?ixlib=rb 1.1
George Pell emerges from court during his committal hearing on historical sexual offences.
AAP/Stefan Postles

Mark Pearson, Griffith University

Many Australians are left perplexed when media coverage of high-profile criminal cases is suddenly suspended or abbreviated “for legal reasons”. The current committal hearing of Catholic Cardinal George Pell on historical sexual offences engages the principle of “open justice” and some of its most important exceptions.

Coverage of such matters is restricted at various stages of criminal trials. This is because of the relative priority the courts and lawmakers have assigned to the principles of open justice and the administration of justice, and the competing rights of free expression, privacy and a fair trial.

What is ‘open justice’?

The principle of open justice dates back to at least the 12th century; it involves people’s access to observe the goings-on in a courtroom. It was later extended to the media as “the eyes and ears of the public” in court.

Australia’s High Court has ruled that open justice is of constitutional significance, and nothing should be done to discourage the media from publishing fair and accurate reports of what occurs in the courtroom. But, it added, the principle is not absolute.

An open court involving fair and accurate media coverage is thus the default position for Australian courts. The common law recognises only a limited number of well-defined exceptions. Lawmakers have developed hundreds more.

One important common law limitation is in the area of sub judice contempt. This puts a halt to prejudicial coverage of a criminal matter from the moment an accused is arrested or charged right through until the appeal period has expired.

Important restrictions here are upon any suggestion an accused might be guilty (or innocent), coverage of contested evidence that may or may not be put to a jury, coverage of earlier proceedings (such as preliminary hearings and royal commissions), interviews with key witnesses, details of any confessions, the criminal history or character evidence about the accused, and visual identification of the accused if that might be at issue in a trial.

Specific restrictions on court cases

Legislation in all Australian jurisdictions has placed a litany of further restrictions on attendance at – and reporting on – a host of situations. These include family law cases, juvenile cases, mental health proceedings and – most relevant here – sexual matters.

The statutory gags forcing closure of courts, banning of coverage, and de-identifying of parties vary in important ways. This is because lawmakers have placed a differing emphasis on the competing rights and interests.

For example, if Pell was facing his committal hearing in South Australia or Queensland, he could not even be identified until after he is committed to trial – if that eventuates.

Lawmakers in those states have decided the reputational damage attached to an allegation of a serious sexual offence is so damaging that an accused person should not be identifiable until it is proven there is at least a prima facie case to answer at trial.

In Victoria, where Pell’s committal hearing is taking place, the accused can usually be identified. However, other restrictions apply either under legislation or in suppression orders issued by a presiding judge or magistrate.

In no Australian jurisdiction can the victim (known as the “complainant”) be identified – directly or indirectly – in sexual matters. But the laws vary on whether they might be identified after proceedings with their permission or the court’s permission.

This means complainants who might have been identified in earlier coverage or proceedings are suddenly rendered anonymous from the moment the matter is “pending” – after the arrest or charging of a suspect.

Special protections apply to complainants during committal hearings involving sexual offences. This includes closing the court while victims give evidence.

A complex array of policy issues inform these kinds of restrictions. These include the perceived vulnerability of victims, their privacy, and the important likelihood that victims might not come forward to bring charges of this nature if they sense they might be in the media spotlight.

Do we need a rethink in the digital age?

Victoria has had more than its share of journalists and others falling foul of court restrictions through defiance or ignorance of the law.

Former journalist and blogger (now senator) Derryn Hinch has twice been jailed as a result of contemptuous coverage – once in 1987 for broadcasting prejudicial talkback radio programs about a former priest facing child molestation charges, and again in 2013 after refusing to pay a A$100,000 fine for blogging the prior convictions of Jill Meagher’s accused killer in breach of a suppression order.


Read more:
You wouldn’t read about it: Adrian Bayley rape trials expose flaw in suppression orders


Two ABC journalists were convicted of identifying a rape victim in radio broadcasts in 2007. They and their employer were later ordered to pay her $234,190 in damages in a civil suit for the invasion of her privacy among other injuries.

In 2017, Yahoo!7 was fined $300,000 for contempt after it published social media material about a victim and the accused. The publication forced the jury in a murder trial to be discharged.

Many of the restrictions on coverage are problematic in the digital era. Mainstream media are more likely to be charged with sub judice contempt than social media users because the large audiences of mainstream media mean their prejudicial coverage is more likely to reach potential jurors.

The cross-jurisdictional nature of digital publishing also renders journalists and social media users subject to the tangled web of restrictions on criminal justice reporting when covering a criminal matter from another state.

Court orders to take down earlier reportage on websites are typically futile, because online dissemination is so widespread. So, the bizarre situation exists where the prior character evidence and coverage of earlier proceedings still sits online for anyone to access with a simple search of an accused’s name.

This is problematic if a rogue juror decides to become a cyber Sherlock Holmes. It means we require better training of jurors.


Read more:
Trial by social media: why we need to properly educate juries


Suppression orders are also a problem because these are typically circulated only to mainstream media in the trial’s immediate vicinity. This leaves others blissfully unaware of the orders. Some orders – known as “super injunctions” – are so secret that even publication of the fact they have been issued is prohibited.

Victoria’s Open Courts Act was meant to reduce the number of suppression orders and inject an element of consistency to the issuing of these. However, it has been problematic.

The ConversationAt least the media are better assisted in the modern era. Court information officers help explain the various restrictions and keep the media well briefed in high-profile trials – as they have done in Victoria during Pell’s committal hearing.

Mark Pearson, Professor of Journalism and Social Media, Griffith Centre for Social and Cultural Research, Griffith University, Griffith University

© Mark Pearson 2018

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Contempt in the face of the court is no laughing matter – usually #MLGriff

By MARK PEARSON

The ancient charge of ‘contempt in the face of the court’ is alive and well, as I have found in the research for the next edition of our text The Journalist’s Guide to Media Law (with Mark Polden).

Almost any behaviour that disrupts the courtroom can be considered a ‘contempt in the face of the court’ – a charge directed at behaviour in the actual courtroom that interferes with the administration of justice. The Australian Law Reform Commission (1987: 3) defined ‘contempt in the face of the court’ as:

Improper behaviour in court. Anything done to interrupt significantly the smooth and appropriately dignified hearing of a case in a courtroom risks being treated as contempt and punished accordingly.

Examples have included outright physical assaults in the courtroom, verbal abuse, inappropriate dress, sleeping and even attempting to release laughing gas into the court building.

Two recent examples have included:

  • The Indigenous laughing case (2017). An Aboriginal land rights activist was jailed for two hours after defying a Gympie magistrate by laughing at him in the courtroom. Gary Tomlinson (also known as “Wit-boooka”) had challenged the authority of the court to hear public nuisance and trespass offences related to a protest at Gympie Regional Council.
  • NT homeless ‘genius’ case (2017). A homeless man, self-described genius and would-be mayoral candidate who continuously insulted court officers interrupted the judge, and disrobed in court was twice jailed for contempt in the face of the court in 2016 and 2017. His appeals failed against his total of five months’ contempt sentence and alleged bias by the judge.

Given that both cases involved citizens who appeared outside of the mainstream of society, it is worth monitoring future cases to assess whether the charge is being disproportionately used against vulnerable, alienated, outspoken or disenfranchised individuals.

Journalists and bloggers are warned to show respect in the courtroom. This extends beyond paying attention to the proceedings, remaining clothed and avoiding throwing projectiles at the magistrate.

Indigenous laughing case, 2017. Gorrie, A. (18 December 2017). UPDATE: Gympie activist serves two hours for contempt. Gympie Times <https://www.gympietimes.com.au/news/update-gympie-activist-serves-two-hours-for-contem/3293365/>

NT homeless ‘genius’ case (2017). Jenkins v Whittington [2017] NTSC 65. < https://www.austlii.edu.au/cgi-bin/viewdoc/au/cases/nt/NTSC/2017/65.html>

 

© Mark Pearson 2018

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Scandalising the court – backgrounding the recent Victorian Court of Appeal matter

By MARK PEARSON

The ancient contempt charge of ‘scandalising the court’ appeared alive and well last month when the Victorian Court of Appeal formally stated its concerns about criticisms made by three Australian government Ministers, published in the national daily newspaper The Australian.

The statement noted:

Given that the court’s decisions in both cases were pending, the court is concerned that the attributed statements were impermissible at law and improperly made in an attempt to influence the court in its decision or decisions. Further, the court is concerned that some of the statements purported to scandalise the court. That is by being calculated to improperly undermine public confidence in the administration of justice in this state in respect of the disposition of the appeals that the court has presently under consideration.

The court was further concerned that the attributed statements were made by three ministers of the Crown. The statements on their face:

  • Fail to respect the doctrine of separation of powers;

  • Breach the principle of sub judice; and

  • Reflect a lack of proper understanding of the importance to our democracy of the independence of the judiciary from the political arms of government.

The newspaper and the three ministers narrowly escaped contempt by apologising for their comments criticising the judiciary in the midst of two major terrorism trials.

Given the fact that the contempt charge of scandalising the court was front and centre in the debate, I reproduce here my 2008 article from the Pacific Journalism Review explaining that charge, its origins, and recent application.


Pearson, M. (2008, April). Scandalising media freedom: Resurrection of an ancient contempt. Pacific Journalism Review, 14(1), 64-78.

Abstract

The ancient charge of “scandalising the court” (publications aiming at lowering the authority of the court) has had a resurgence in Australia over the past decade, at the very time judges and magistrates have developed an inclination to sue for defamation. The combined effect is to send a warning to media organisations to take care when criticising judicial officers or the judicial process, particularly if that involves implying some improper motive on the part of a judge or magistrate. In New Zealand there have been some isolated but significant threats and cases, particularly in the volatile area of family law. This paper reviews some recent Australian and New Zealand cases where a charge of scandalising the court has been either threatened or enforced and considers the implications for freedom of media expression in a new era of anti-terrorism when important questions are being asked about the fairness of justice processes.

The form of contempt of court known as ‘scandalising the court’ – defined as ‘any act done or writing published calculated to bring the court or a judge of the court into contempt or to lower his authority’ (R v. Gray, 1900) – has long been used by small African and Pacific Island states as a mechanism for silencing media criticism of the judicial process. (See, for example, Attorney-General v. Namoa, 2000; and Chaudhary v Attorney-General, 1999; where it was used recently in Tonga and Fiji). In Canada the offence has been found incompatible with that country’s Charter of Rights and Freedoms, in the United Kingdom it has not been prosecuted successfully against the media since 1931 and in the United States it does not exist at all (Weisenhaus, 2007, pp. 74-75). Sadly, it has been revitalised in Australia over the past decade at the very time members of the judiciary have begun to sue for defamation, presenting a dual affront to media freedom. It has also been used in a notable case in New Zealand and threatened in another. This is despite the fact that the legislature in New Zealand and the High Court in Australia have made moves to enshrine freedom of communication, in New Zealand with a Bill of Rights and in Australia within a series of decisions through the 1990s guaranteeing free speech on governmental and political matters. This paper considers briefly the background to scandalising contempt before reviewing the key cases in the field and considering the resulting implications for judicial critique in the media.

Background to scandalising the court

One of the most famous examples of scandalising the court was the attack in the Birmingham Daily Argus upon Crown Court Justice Darling at the turn of the last century. Editor Howard Alexander Gray was convicted of contempt for his tirade against the good justice, describing him as an “impudent little man in horse-hair, a microcosm of conceit and empty-headedness” (R. v. Gray, 1900).

The term ‘scandalising’ was described in the Australian High Court in 1935 as applying to:

publications which tend to detract from the authority and influence of judicial determinations, publications calculated to impair the confidence of the people in the Court’s judgments because the matter published aims at lowering the authority of the Court as a whole or that of its judges and excites misgivings as to the integrity, propriety and impartiality brought to the exercise of the judicial office

(R. v. Dunbabin; Ex parte Williams, 1935, p. 442).

This type of contempt can be committed by publishing material scandalising the courts or judges by abusing them in scurrilous terms, alleging they are corrupt or lack integrity, or that they have bowed to outside influences in reaching their decisions (Pearson, 2007, p. 109). Historically, the courts have been tolerant of reasonable criticism. Lord Atkin summed up the approach with this quote in 1936: ‘Justice is not a cloistered virtue; she must be allowed to suffer the scrutiny and respectful, though outspoken, comments of ordinary men’ (Ambard v. Attorney-General of Trinidad and Tobago, p. 335). This statement reinforced the fact that in Britain the offence was considered to have become obsolete in 1899, as Butler and Rodrick note (2004, p. 282). But, they continue:

This declaration turned out to be premature. The offence remains extant in England, although it has been described as quiescent, as there have been no convictions for scandalising contempt for almost 70 years. In Australia there is no doubt that the offence continues to exist. In fact, prosecutions are relatively common.

As this paper sets out to establish, scandalising charges have become even more common in recent years, a disturbing development for media freedom.

The two best-known cases in this area in Australia in the late 20th century were called the ‘BLF cases’, as both involved officials of the militant union, the Builders’ Labourers Federation — Jack Mundey and Norm Gallagher — a decade apart. In each case, the accused had made comments (picked up by the media) implying that judges had bowed to union pressure in reaching their decisions. The first, Attorney-General (NSW) v. Mundey (1972), occurred during the heat of the anti-apartheid protests against South Africa in the early 1970s. Members of the Builders’ Labourers Federation had sawn off the goalposts at the Sydney Cricket Ground in the prelude to a rugby Test match between Australia and South Africa’s Springboks. After their trials, a union official, Jack Mundey, told the media the judge should have allowed evidence of broader political material in their defence, such as United Nations documentation on South Africa’s race policies. Mundey claimed there had been a miscarriage of justice and that the judge was a racist. Mundey was charged with contempt for these comments, but the charges were dismissed in the Supreme Court because Mundey’s comments about the judge being a racist needed to be considered in the broader context of his comments about racism throughout Australian society. The court ruled that Mundey would have been in contempt if he had implied that the judge had been motivated by some racist bias against the accused in reaching his decision.

The second BLF case, Gallagher v. Durack (1983), a decade later, had a different result. There, Builders’ Labourers Federation federal secretary Norm Gallagher won a Federal Court appeal against one contempt charge, but his comments about the judicial process landed him in contempt on a new charge of scandalising the court. Gallagher told the media that industrial action by his union members had exerted enough pressure to force the court to reverse the decision to jail him over the first contempt charge. He told one television channel: ‘the rank and file of the union … has shown such fine support of the officials of the union and I believe that by their actions in demonstrating in walking off jobs … I believe that has been the main reason for the court changing its mind’ (Gallagher v. Durack, 1983, p. 239). The Federal Court held that the statement was contemptuous and sentenced Gallagher to three months’ jail. (The court justified the jail sentence on the basis that Gallagher had boasted that if he had been fined the union would pay it for him.) The decision was appealed to the High Court, which upheld the contempt conviction. The court said the whole area of scandalising involved balancing the principle of free speech against the need to maintain public confidence in the judicial system. Gallagher’s insinuation that the Federal Court had bowed to outside pressure in reaching its decision was calculated to undermine public confidence in the Federal Court. Justice Murphy dissented, saying the case raised important principles of both free speech and justice.

In a more recent case, the Anissa Pty Ltd v. Simon Harry Parsons on application of the Prothonotary of the Supreme Court of Victoria, (1999, at para. 19), Justice Cummins of the Supreme Court of Victoria summed up the three basic principles of contempt by scandalising the court:

First, proceeding for contempt of court is not and must not be in diminution of free speech. Second, proceeding for contempt of court is to preserve the administration of justice. Third, proceeding for contempt of court is not to protect the individual person of the judge.

A turning point in the law of scandalising was reached with one of the Australian High Court’s famous free speech decisions in 1992 — Nationwide News Pty Ltd v. Wills. There, a newspaper group challenged the federal government’s power to legislate against criticism of the Industrial Relations Commission or its members. The High Court held there was an implied constitutional right to criticise important public institutions and that this legislation infringed that right. However, the court also ruled that the crime of scandalising the court was not obsolete and that two defences applied to it: truth and fair comment (Chesterman 2000: 68). (In other words, it would be a defence to a charge of scandalising the court if you could prove that the substance of your criticisms was true or that your criticisms were made in good faith, were honestly held, fairly conducted and did not imply improper motives on the part of the judiciary.)

In Nationwide News Pty Ltd v. Wills, Mason CJ described scandalising as a ‘well recognised form of criminal contempt’ (at para 21) but suggested there was no contempt at common law ‘if all that the defendant does is to exercise his or her ordinary right to criticise, in good faith, the conduct of the court or the judge’ (at para 21). He stated the judiciary should be open to criticism and cited US Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black stating in Bridges v. California in 1941:

The assumption that respect for the judiciary can be won by
shielding judges from published criticism wrongly appraises the
character of American public opinion. … an enforced silence, however
limited, solely in the name of preserving the dignity of the bench,
would probably engender resentment, suspicion, and contempt much more
than it would enhance respect (pp. 270-271).

Burrows and Cheer (2005, pp. 384-387) offer six danger zones for scandalising the court:

  • Extravagant and scurrilous language;
  • Vendettas against judges;
  • Criticism based on inaccuracies;
  • Accusations of bias or impartiality on the part of the judiciary;
  • Suggestions judges are susceptible to pressure; and
  • The social conditions of the times.

The key recent New Zealand case of scandalising the court, Solicitor-General for NZ v. Smith (2004), also raised issues of free expression in relation to that country’s Bill of Rights Act. The case was explained well by Cheer (2004). The High Court found MP Nick Smith had made several inflammatory media statements about a custody dispute before the Family Court which undermined public confidence in the court and had the potential to interfere with the administration of justice by placing public pressure upon the court. As Burrows and Cheer (2005, p. 386) noted, ‘whichever way the Family Court judge decided the case, the public perception would be affected by seeing the pressure that had been so publicly applied’. It also convicted TV3 and Radio NZ of the same charge and found the freedom expression provisions of section 14 of the Bill of Rights did not offer protection against a charge of scandalising the court. Justices Wild and MacKenzie stated:

We do not accept that the offence of scandalising the Court cannot be justified as a reasonable limitation upon freedom of expression… The rights guaranteed by the BORA [Bill of Rights Act] depend upon the rule of law, the upholding of which is the function of the Courts. Courts can only effectively discharge that function if they command the authority and respect of the public. A limit upon conduct which undermines that authority and respect is thus not only commensurate with the rights and freedoms contained in the BORA, but is ultimately necessary to ensure that they are upheld. (Solicitor-General for NZ v. Smith, 2004, p. 568, cited in Burrows and Cheer, 2005, p. 384).

Thus, in both countries, despite the legislature and the highest courts enshrining free expression about politics and government, the courts have decided this ancient punishment should still be available to the judiciary.

 

The resurgence of scandalising the court

Over the past 10 years in Australia and New Zealand there have been several charges or threats of scandalising the court involving the media in a variety of ways, all containing extreme statements about the judiciary. These include:

  • Re South Australian Telecasters Limited (1998). The Family Court of Australia stopped Channel Seven in Adelaide from broadcasting a current affairs story about a custody battle between the natural parents of two children and their foster mother. As well as identification issues related to the dispute taking place in a small semi-rural town, and the risk of sub judice contempt related to the upcoming custody hearing, Chief Justice Nicholson expressed concern about the potential for scandalising the court. He said the report risked bringing the court into contempt and lowering its authority.
  • Alice in Wonderland case (2001). As Burrows and Cheer (2005, p. 387) report, an Environment Court judge asked counsel for argument over whether a contempt by scandalising had been committed when a local body politician criticised an Environment Court decision as ‘Alice in Wonderland’ in an issued statement. He also called upon landowners to state their disapproval to the judge. The matter was eventually resolved with an apology where the politician withdrew the comments.
  • Hoser & Kotabi Pty Ltd v. The Queen (2003). The author of two books about police corruption in Victoria was fined $3000 and his publishing company fined $2000 for making malicious and baseless allegations of bias and impropriety against two County Court judges who had tried earlier cases involving the author. A defence that the statements were fair comment made in good faith failed.
  • Bell v. Umina Beach Bowling Club Ltd (No 2) (2003). Directors of a New South Wales bowls club were disgruntled that their suspension of a fellow director had been ruled void by NSW Chief Judge in Equity Justice Young. The Central Coast Herald wrote a report of the decision, ending with the sentence: ‘Two of the club directors indicated an appeal against Justice Young who they accused of bias.’ The judge warned the comment was a contempt by scandalising, but handled it with a warning. Justice Young said: ‘Of course there is a wide range of legitimate criticism that can be made of courts and their decisions. However a statement to a newspaper of wide circulation that the only reason the spokesman lost was because the judge was biased goes beyond legitimate criticism, weakens the authority of the court in the eyes of the public and is a contempt.’
  • Website case (2003). A New Zealand-based web site listed 14 judges it was purportedly investigating for ‘corruption, incompetence and suspect character’ and threatened to release further information proving these allegations. Burrows and Cheer (2005, p. 385) report that the publication prompted a letter from the Solicitor-General and the material was subsequently removed from the site.
  • Attorney-General for State of Queensland v. Colin Lovitt QC (2003). Barrister Colin Lovitt was so frustrated with a Queensland magistrate’s ruling in a high-profile case, he turned to journalists covering the hearing and declared: ‘This bloke’s a complete cretin. Surely they can’t all be like this.’ The comments were reported and journalists testified they had heard him. Queensland Supreme Court Justice Richard Chesterman fined him $10000, saying the statement constituted both ‘scurrilous abuse and an attack upon the authority of the court’.
  • Mills & Ors v. Townsville City Council & Anor (No. 2) (2003). Planning and Environment Court Judge Clive Wall considered charging three Townsville councillors with contempt by scandalising when they were quoted criticising his decision to reject their approval of a nursing home development. One accused him of making decisions on design and aesthetics and another suggested the judge had ‘usurped the role of council’. Mayor Tony Mooney was quoted as saying: ‘Those appointed to the bench are not appointed by divine intervention [and] they don’t always get it right.’ Judge Wall decided the comments did not amount to contempt by scandalising because they could not be said to be of a character calculated to interfere with the administration of justice or to undermine the public confidence in the proper functioning of the Courts’. ‘Courts should not rush to be overly critical of criticism, even discourteous, wrong and mistaken criticism, as the present is’, he said.
  • Solicitor-General v. Smith (2004). MP Nick Smith was fined $5000, TV3 $25,000 and Radio New Zealand $5000 by the New Zealand High Court over comments he made about a Family Court custody case which were broadcast on the television and radio stations. The comments were inaccurate, applied pressure on the court, undermined confidence in the judicial process and had the potential to interfere with the administration of justice, the court held.
  • DPP v. Francis & Anor (No. 2) (2006). Veteran Adelaide broadcaster Bob Francis was given a nine week suspended jail sentence and fined $20,000 over a 2005 program in which he criticised a magistrate for considering granting bail to a man accused of possessing child pornography. (Magistrate Gary Gumpl was obliged under legislation to hear a bail application.) Francis told his audience: ‘Oh, smash the judge’s face in.’ The magistrate also settled out of court for a reported $110,000 defamation payout (McGarry 2006).
  • Environment Protection Authority v. Pannowitz (2006). Steepleton Pty Ltd and its director Kenneth Pannowitz were convicted and fined by the Environment Protection Authority in New South Wales for unlawful transport and disposal of waste. Part of their sentence was an order to place an advertisement in the Newcastle Herald newspaper with stipulated wording announcing their conviction. The director changed the notice in various ways and added the sentence ‘This matter has been referred by Steepleton to ICAC for further investigation’. Land and Environment Court Justice Lloyd found the suggestion that a corruption body was being called upon to investigate the court had ‘an inherent tendency to scandalise the court’. He also ruled Pannowitz had interfered with the course of justice by changing the size, position and wording of the notice.

 

Family Court criticism

Family law cases can be particularly volatile and the Family Court in both countries has been subject to harsh criticism by both litigants and the media, some of which have led to scandalising contempt charges as noted above in the Re South Australian Telecasters Limited (1998) and Solicitor-General v. Smith (2004). Other scandalising charges have been pursued against Family Court litigants without involving the media. Disaffected fathers who have lost custody of their children have often been scathing in their criticism of the court. As Lane (2000, p. 14) reported, the Family Court brought scandalising charges against four of its strident critics who protested with placards and leaflets outside its building in Melbourne in 1998, but the cases fell over when a judge threw out the case against the first, ‘PT’. In New Zealand, such individuals have faced other charges. For example, Rowan (2007) reports that the founder of the HandsOnEqualParent Trust, Jim Baily, was charged with disorderly conduct over his protest against the Family Court by driving a van with a loudspeaker around the streets of Tauranga. The charges were withdrawn.

Heads of the Family Court in both countries took public stances in 2006 to address such critics. New Zealand’s Principal Family Court Judge Peter Boshier said the media’s reportage of men’s groups’ gripes about the court’s alleged secrecy, biases and unfair processes was itself often biased and undertaken without reporters actually attending the court proceedings. “The reporting of the father’s groups’ protests shows that the more strident and extreme the claims made the more likely the media will give them publicity – and uncritical publicity,” he said (Boshier, 2006, p.5). In Australia, the Chief Justice of the Family Court, Diana Bryant, went public to counter criticism that her court was biased by announcing the court would be collecting statistics including those showing the percentage of arrangements involving or excluding fathers (Porter, 2006, p. 6).

When magistrates and judges sue

Complicating the scandalising cases is the fact that members of the judiciary have become more inclined to sue for defamation in recent years, as evidenced by the award of $246,500 in damages in 2002 to Victorian Deputy Magistrate Jelena Popovic over a Herald Sun article by Andrew Bolt (Popovic v Herald & Weekly Times Ltd and Anor, 2002), and the 2005 victory over the Sydney Morning Herald by NSW magistrate Pat O’Shane (John Fairfax Publications Pty Ltd v O’Shane, 2005). Burrows and Cheer (2005, p. 383 footnote 29) also record a New Zealand newspaper report of a judge settling a defamation action against a media organisation. The propensity of the judiciary to sue means media organisations potentially face both criminal and civil responses to their harsh critique of the administration of justice in the form of a scandalising contempt charge and a defamation suit.

Conclusion and directions

All this is not to say that judges in either country jump at the opportunity to charge media organisations with contempt by scandalising. Media outlets do indeed publish quite harsh criticisms of the judiciary and get away with it. For example, the editor of Sydney’s Daily Telegraph, David Penberthy, almost challenged the courts to charge him with contempt when he reported that District Court Judge Ian Dodd had developed quite a reputation for going to sleep while presiding over cases. Penberthy started his piece as follows:

This might constitute a contempt of court. But we thought we’d run it anyway, as there’s every chance the judge in question will be curled up under his judicial sombrero, oblivious to any slur against his name. (Penberthy, 2005, p. 21).

While Penberthy went ahead and published his humorous exposé of the sleeping judge, the point for this article is more that he was ‘chilled’ enough by the contempt laws to verbalise the risk in his very first sentence. An ancient law hangs like a guillotine over fair and open reportage in the modern era.

Twenty years ago the Australian Law Reform Commission (1987) criticised the law of scandalising on two main grounds and recommended its common law version be abolished. The first criticism was that there was no need to prove the accused intended to impair public confidence in the administration of justice; it was enough that the accused published the remarks intentionally (para 414). Secondly, there was no formal defence of justification available to the accused; the truth or falsity of the published remarks was irrelevant (para 415). Of course, as noted above, the High Court indeed decided truth would be a defence to scandalising in Nationwide News Pty Ltd v. Wills (1992).

While the Commission recommended scandalising be abolished from the common law, it suggested it be replaced by a limited offence which prohibited the publication of an allegation imputing misconduct to a judge if it was likely to cause serious harm to the judge’s reputation in his or her official capacity (para 460). Liability would lie with each officer of the media organisation in a position to exercise control over the publication (para 261) and the initial maker of the scandalising statement if he or she knew, or should have known, the allegation would be published (para 264). The Commission also recommended the defence of justification (if the accused proved the allegation was true or believed it was true on reasonable grounds) and the defence of it being made as part of a fair and accurate report of court or parliament (para 460). The offence would be tried by jury except when all concerned had consented to have it tried summarily by a magistrate (para 476, 479).

The Commission’s recommendations, the free speech cases in the Australian High Court in the early 1990s, the higher public profile of the judiciary and the fact that more judicial officers were pursuing defamation actions to defend their reputations all raised hopes that the authorities would not pursue charges of scandalising the court. Such hopes were reinforced in 2005 when Federal Court Justice Ronald Sackville delivered the 13th Lucinda Lecture at Monash University (Sackville, 2005). Sackville asked ‘How fragile are the courts?’ and traced the history of criticism of the courts, including a critique of scandalising contempt. He supported the ALRC by suggesting courts should be able to resort to some powers ‘in the rare cases where verbal attacks pose a genuine threat to the standing of the judiciary’. He also suggested that, like politicians and other public officials, judges should be able to sue for defamation where their reputations have been unfairly damaged. He concluded:

But the independence of the judiciary does not justify conferring on judges greater protection than those representatives or officials enjoy. It is to be hoped that the High Court will interpret the scope of the implied freedom of communication more broadly than recent decisions might suggest.  If the High Court does not do so, there is a strong case for legislation to bring the principles governing criticism of the Australian judiciary into line with those of other liberal democracies (Sackville, 2005, p. 24).

Despite Justice Sackville’s refreshing perspective reinforcing the recommendations of the ALRC 20 years ago, it seems that in recent years such charges have had somewhat of a resurgence in Australia and, to a lesser extent, in New Zealand.

Whether or not this has resulted in a debilitating ‘chill’ upon media critique of the courts is a moot point, but journalists certainly need to ensure that any criticism of the judiciary and the legal system is carefully phrased and measured so that it does not unfairly imply any wrongdoing that might erode public confidence. Journalists should note that, while some of the media organisations mentioned above escaped contempt charges when they reported the contemptuous statements of others (such as disgruntled fathers on the steps of the Family Court) it is open to the authorities to prosecute both the individuals who make contemptuous comments (at a press conference, for example) and the media outlet that reported the comments, as they did in Solicitor-General v. Smith (2004) in New Zealand. Litaba (2003) noted that while scandalising the court should not be used to protect individual judges against reputational attacks, there were numerous examples where judges seemed to have ‘stood on their personal dignity’. Further, Litaba questioned whether under the existing law truth as a defence applied, despite the High Court’s statements on the matter in Nationwide News Pty Ltd v. Wills (1992), a disturbing possibility given that part of the democratic process should surely be the right to make legitimate, well founded, criticism of the judicial process.

The slim risk of being charged with scandalising the court should not prevent journalists partaking in fair, well-reasoned criticism of the administration of justice. It is only when the criticism is personal, scurrilous abuse of a judge, which brings the judicial system into disrepute, or when it implies some improper motive on the part of the judiciary that it is more likely to overstep the mark. Nevertheless, all in the media would argue that judges and the judicial process should be open to such criticism. This has been even more the case in recent years when judges themselves have spoken about their decisions in public forums. Family Court and High Court justices, particularly, have been vocal on broader policy issues affecting the workings of the justice system. Many welcome such a public profile of the judiciary, but argue that judges cannot adopt such a stance and later hide behind the protections of ancient laws, such as scandalising the court, to punish those who have publicly disagreed with them.

The need for unshackled critique is even more pressing in an era when anti-terrorism laws leave so many court processes open to criticism and when the sentencing of criminals is such a heated political topic.

Media groups, such as Australia’s Right to Know lobby, and the press councils in both countries, should press for greater clarity in the law of scandalising. It would have the advantage of allowing reasoned public criticism of judges and the court system and sound investigative reporting of suspicious judicial practices without fear of reprisal from an irate judge wielding summary powers. Media freedom should not be held to ransom by impudent little men in horsehair, microcosms of conceit and empty-headedness nor, for that matter, by snoring wigs curled up under their judicial sombreros.

 

References

Australian Law Reform Commission (ALRC). (1987). Report no. 35 — contempt,

Australian Government Publishing Service, Canberra. [Electronic version.]

Boshier, P. (2006, August 9). Fair deal for Family Court. Dominion Post, p. 5.

Burrows, J. and & Cheer, U. (2005). Media law in New Zealand. (5th ed.). South Melbourne: Oxford University Press.

Butler, D. & Rodrick, S. (2004). Australian media law. (2nd ed). Sydney: Thomson Law Book Company.

Chesterman, M. (2000) Freedom of speech in Australian law: A delicate plant. Aldershot: Ashgate Dartmouth.

Cheer, U. (2004). New Zealand media law update. Recent developments – defamation, censorship and contempt. Media and Arts Law Review. 9 (3): 237-246.

Lane, B. (2000, March 8). Street protester beats judges at own game. The Australian. p. 14.

Litaba, O. (2003). Does the ‘offence’ of contempt by scandalising the court have a valid place in the law of modern day Australia? [Electronic version]. DeakinLRev 6.

McGarry, A. (2006, 3 August) Jail for Bob the broadcaster? The Australian,

  1. 14.

Pearson, M. (2007). The journalist’s guide to media law. Dealing with legal and ethical issues. (3rd ed.). Allen & Unwin, Sydney.

Porter, L. (2006, December 24). Family Court fights back over bias claims. Sunday Age. P. 6.

Rowan, J. (2007, January 26). Family Court protester avoids conviction. New Zealand Herald.

Sackville, Justice R. (2005). How fragile are the courts? Freedom of speech and criticism of the judiciary. 13th Lucinda Lecture. Monash University, 29 August 2005. Retrieved March 10, 2008, from http://www.wbde.org/documents/2005_Aug_29_Justice_Sackvill_%20Re_Criticism_of_Judiciary.pdf

Weisenhaus, D. (2007). Hong Kong media law. A guide for journalists and media professionals. Hong Kong: HK University Press.

 

Cases cited

Ambard v. Attorney-General of Trinidad and Tobago [1936] AC 322.

Anissa Pty Ltd v. Simon Harry Parsons on application of the Prothonotary of the Supreme Court of Victoria [1999] VSC 430. Retrieved March 10, 2008 from www.austlii.edu.au//cgi-bin/disp.pl/au/cases/vic/VSC/1999/430.html.

Attorney-General v. Namoa [2000] TOSC 13 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.paclii.org/to/cases/TOSC/2000/13.html.

Attorney-General NSW v. Mundey [1972] 2 NSWLR 887.

Attorney-General for State of Queensland v. Colin Lovitt QC [2003] QSC 279. Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/cases/qld/QSC/2003/279.html.

Bell v. Umina Beach Bowling Club Ltd (No 2) [2003] NSWSC

846 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from www.austlii.edu.au/au/cases/nsw/supreme_ct/2003/846.html.

Bridges v. California (1941) 314 US 252.

Chaudhary v Attorney-General [1999] FJCA 23, [17] (Fiji Court of Appeal). Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.paclii.org/fj/cases/FJCA/1999/27.html.

DPP v. Francis & Anor (No. 2) [2006] SASC 261 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.austlii.edu.au/cgi-bin/sinodisp/au/cases/sa/SASC/2006/261.html.

Environment Protection Authority v. Pannowitz [2006] NSWLEC 219 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/cases/nsw/NSWLEC/2006/219.html.

Gallagher v. Durack (1983) 152 CLR 238.

Hoser & Kotabi Pty Ltd v. The Queen (ex parte The Attorney-General for the State of Victoria); The Queen (ex parte The Attorney-General for the State of Victoria) v. Hoser & Kotabi Pty Ltd [2003] VSCA 194 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.austlii.edu.au/cgi-bin/disp.pl/au/cases/vic/VSCA/2003/194.html.

John Fairfax Publications Pty Ltd v O’Shane [2005] NSWCA 164. Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.austlii.edu.au/cgi-bin/sinodisp/au/cases/nsw/NSWCA/2005/164.html.

Mills & Ors v. Townsville City Council & Anor (No. 2) [2003] QPEC 18 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/cases/qld/QPEC/2003/18.html.

Nationwide News Pty Ltd v. Wills (1992) 177 CLR 1.

Popovic v Herald & Weekly Times Ltd and Anor [2002] VSC 174 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from http://www.austlii.edu.au/cgi-bin/sinodisp/au/cases/vic/VICSC/2002/174.html.

Re South Australian Telecasters Limited (Publication Injunction) [1998] FamCA 117 Retrieved March 10, 2008 from www.austlii.edu.au/cgi-bin/disp.pl/au/cases/cth/family_ct/1998/117.html

R v. Dunbabin; Ex parte Williams (1935) 53 CLR 419.

R v. Gray [1900] 2 QB 36.

Solicitor-General v. Smith [2004] 2 NZLR 540.

 

© Mark Pearson 2008 & 2017

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Final global report on source protection by @julieposetti released by UNESCO

By MARK PEARSON

The final report of the three year global project by Fairfax Media and University of Wollongong colleague Julie Posetti (@julieposetti) comparing international approaches to protecting sources has been released by UNESCO.

As I foreshadowed earlier, the impressive study tracks, assesses and compares protective legal frameworks like shield laws over the 2007-2015 period, and recommends new measures for protection of journalists and their sources.

The report acknowledges the enormous benefits to journalism harnessed from the Internet and Web 2.0 communications, but homes in on the challenges of  the privacy and safety of journalistic sources. Mass surveillance, data retention and expanded national security laws all stand to erode the integrity of the journalist-whistleblower relationship.

The publication is available here.

The Posetti study draws on surveys and long form interviews involving nearly 200 international experts from the fields of law, journalism, digital communications and civil society organisations.

Academics from Australia (Posetti and UoW colleague Marcus O’Donnell), Brazil and China contributed, along with 11 research assistants from a range of countries.

I was honored to serve on the eight-member international advisory panel.

The report’s key recommendations for nations were:

  • Legislate for source protection;
  • Review  national laws on surveillance, anti-terrorism, data retention, and access to telecommunications records;
  • Co-operate with journalists’ and media freedom organisations to produce guidelines for prosecutors and police officers, and training materials for judges on the right of journalists not to disclose their sources;
  • Develop guidelines for public authorities and private service providers concerning the protection of the confidentiality of journalists’ sources in the context of the interception; or disclosure of computer data and traffic data of computer networks; and
  • Apply source protection regimes and defined exceptions in a gender-sensitive way.

Its main recommendations for journalists were:

  • Engage with digital issues impacting on source confidentiality protection, and actively campaign for laws and rules that provide adequate protection;
  • Explain to the public what is at stake in the protection of source confidentiality, especially in the digital age;
  • Ensure that sources are aware of the digital era threats to confidentiality;
  • Consider altering practices – including ‘going back to analogue methods’ when required (recognising this may not always be possible due to international or gender dynamics) – in order to offer a degree of protection to their confidential sources;
  • Help audiences become more secure in their own communications, for example explaining how encryption works, and why it is important not to have communications security compromised;
  • Consider providing technical advice and training to sources to ensure secure communications, with the assistance of NGOs and representative organisations;
  • In the case of media leaders, ensure that they also respect their journalists’ ethical commitment (and in some cases legal obligation) to source confidentiality; and
  • In the case of media owners, ensure that their journalists, and freelancers who contribute investigative reports, have access to the appropriate tools and training needed to ensure that they are able to offer the most secure channels of digital communication possible to their sources.

Related:

© Mark Pearson 2017

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Book review: Hong Kong Media Law

By MARK PEARSON

[First published in Media and Arts Law Review (LexisNexis) in (2016) 21 MALR 119].

Book review

Hong Kong Media Law: A Guide for Journalists and Media Professionals

By Doreen Weisenhaus, with contributions by Rick Glofcheski and Yan Mei Ning (Hong Kong University Press, 2nd ed, 2014) 480 pp. ISBN 9789888208098.

Mark Pearson

hkmedialawcoverMost authors of media law texts would not expect their books to become important historical reference works for centuries to come.
But that is exactly what I predict will eventuate for the University of Hong Kong’s Doreen Weisenhaus with her Hong Kong Media Law: A Guide for Journalists and Media Professionals, now in its expanded second edition.
Unlike most of our texts explaining the media law in English language jurisdictions, based predominantly on the inevitable evolution of the common law and legislation in countries like the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia and New Zealand, the two editions of this book have captured communication law at that crucial historical juncture two decades after the People’s Republic of China resumed control of Hong Kong.
The compendium is an articulate explanation of media law still largely entrenched in the free expression of a former British colony, with a growing series of riders and consequences both within Hong Kong and for journalists who venture onto the mainland in their reporting and publishing.
For all those reasons, it is as fascinating as it is complex, making sense of a body of diverse laws spanning contrasting legal frameworks, press systems and languages in a unique historical moment.
Weisenhaus (and her contributing authors) have explained this clearly to journalists and students without falling for the temptation of over-simplifying what is undeniably a sophisticated and organic jurisprudence.
She does this by featuring chapters on the usual suspects in a media law text — the legal system, defamation, court reporting and contempt, privacy, access to information, copyright, and obscenity and indecency. Of course, all of those standard chapters also feature key cases and points of difference reflecting Hong Kong’s history, Chinese control, and the region’s cosmopolitan role as the financial hub of Asia.
However, important other chapters have a stronger Chinese influence on reporting the mainland, obscenity and indecency and media regulation in the age of convergence.
Appendices on key statutes and regulations, judicial practice directions, Access to Information, and useful links also feature an appendix by accomplished investigative journalists Chan Pui-king and Vivian Kwok on searching for public records of courts.
The instructional design of the text is also admirable. Each chapter starts with some frequently asked questions on the topic and directions to the section of the chapter where the answer might be found. The key chapters also feature a useful checklist for journalists on the subject at hand, clearly accessible as a quick refresher for a reporter on the run.
All this is enhanced by the author’s accomplished writing style — clear, concise and engaging — reflecting her earlier career as city editor of The New York Times, the first legal editor of The New York Times Magazine and later its law and politics editor, and her earlier stint as editor-in-chief of The National Law Journal.
Weisenhaus is now associate professor and director of the Media Law Project at the University of Hong Kong’s Journalism and Media Studies Centre, a regular panellist on international free expression and media law forums, and contributor to comparative works.
In this book she impresses upon the reader the strong independence of the Hong Kong courts and the entrenched values of media freedom, each under pressure from the same kinds of national security measures confronting journalism in Western democracies combined with special new tensions as Hong Kong continues its adaption to its role as a Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China.
As the author explains in her overview, ‘those winds from the mainland have grown stronger, despite the “one country, two systems” principle that is supposed to govern relations between the mainland and Hong Kong’.
‘Thus, concern persists both within and beyond Hong Kong over the degree of its press freedom and the eventual contour of its media-law landscape, partly because of uncertainty about how much of a role the mainland will have in shaping (if not controlling) it’, she continues.
While the China question dominates thinking about the future of media law in Hong Kong, the problems of government surveillance, interference and downright censorship also worry journalists in Western democracies where press freedom was once valued much more highly.
A reflective reading of this important work by Weisenhaus and her colleagues brings this into sharp focus as we learn to appreciate that we all stand to lose many of our inherited media freedoms unless we find ways to apply a brake to government regulation and intrusion.
In that way, it is not just an important work for Hong Kong students and journalists and Sinophiles, but for all citizens and scholars with an interest in media law as the fine balance between free expression, other rights and the self-interest of states the world over.

© Mark Pearson 2016

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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Queensland judicial committee recommends some filming of proceedings and a new court information officer

By MARK PEARSON

A Supreme Court of Queensland committee has recommended a pilot program for the broadcasting of some sentencing remarks and appeal hearings and the appointment of a court information officer.

QldElectronicPubsReportApril2016The Electronic Publication of Court Proceedings: Report – April 2016 was released this month, the result of eight months of deliberations by five Supreme Court justices (chaired by Justice Margaret McMurdo, President of the Court of Appeal), with input from a further two District Court judges.

The report followed the release of an Issues Paper on the topic in June 2015 and the consideration of public submissions, including one from yours truly, which I detailed in an earlier blog.

The latest report reviews practices in other Australian jurisdictions and internationally. It stems from media requests to film the sentencing remarks in the trial of Brett Peter Cowan for the murder of school boy Daniel Morcombe.

No standard procedures existed in Queensland to film sentencing remarks and the court was rare among Australian jurisdictions in that it had no designated information officer to assist in making arrangements. The delay deemed necessary to make suitable arrangements was one of the reasons that the application to film the judge’s sentencing remarks was refused.

As a result of the report’s findings, the courts will develop a pilot program for broadcasting of sentencing remarks and appeal hearings.

The committee noted  that most respondents were concerned about the risk that recording and broadcasting witnesses and others in court would compromise the administration of justice.

As with similar reviews in other countries, the report does not favour broadcasting of witnesses’ evidence. However, the option will remain open for the judge in a particular case to allow the evidence of witnesses to be broadcast, with special consideration given to the position of victims and vulnerable witnesses.

The pilot program will require the development of suitable Practice Directions, logistical arrangements and guidelines to assist the judges and the media. Guidelines will address matters such as the exclusion of certain categories of cases and the location and field of view of cameras.

The decision on whether to allow the recording of sentencing remarks will remain the decision of the presiding judge in each case.

The report also recommends additional ways to better inform and educate the public, including:

  • improved public and media access to court decisions, case summaries and documents to allow fair and accurate reporting; and
  • the appointment of a Court Information Officer to assist the Supreme Court and the District Court in better informing and educating the public about the courts and the justice system.

When appointed, the officer will be responsible for the development of guidelines for the recording and publication of court proceedings, paving the way for the pilot program to start.

My own submission called for the installation of webcams in all courtrooms to allow as much public access to court proceedings as possible so that citizens could ‘virtually’ visit a courtroom just as easily as they might attend physically.

It suggested that, just as all citizens might wander randomly into a public court in session in the Supreme Court building, citizens should be able to tune in online to those same proceedings from the comfort and convenience of a remote location.

My own view is that recording more generally in society has become ubiquitous and that its potential to impact on judges and potential witnesses would be minimal given a. the extent to which people realise their words and behaviour are now being recorded in all walks of life; and b. the fact that wholesale livestreaming of all courts would be accommodated as a basic procedure – just an accepted facet of what is done there.

My submission featured these six hallmarks:

  1. Install inexpensive webcams in all courtrooms showing only the judge in the frame.
  2. Livestream all courtrooms using this single camera angle to a designated court website where citizens can access any courtroom at any time.
  3. Feature the kind of alert light found in radio studios positioned prominently inside and outside the courtroom to light with the sign “Court open and broadcasting”.
  4. Install a similar light and sign at the bench so the judge can control whether the recording is on or off (ie, whether the court is open or closed) and personnel are advised accordingly.
  5. Deal with mainstream media requests for special permission to film proceedings on a case by case basis, with the presiding judge determining the conditions attached to any permissions.
  6. Restrictions: As detailed above, my own view is that there are measures available to the courts to address any misreporting or sensationalised reporting based on the livestreamed material. However, if the court were concerned at the potential for the selective recording and rebroadcasting of any of the material it could feature an on-screen warning “© Supreme Court of Queensland: Not to be recorded or rebroadcast without the permission of the presiding judge”.

In short, this simple and relatively inexpensive solution would dispense with the need for editing because the livestreaming control would rest simply with the judge’s decision on whether to close or open the court for the complete trial (or for a given segment).

It would allow a mechanism for justice to be truly ‘open’ – both in the physical courtroom and in the virtual one – with all the ensuing public benefits of education and allowing justice to be seen to be done.

The committee gave my suggestion due consideration but rejected it on the basis of expense and for tipping the scales too far in favour of open justice over a fair trial and the due administration of justice. The report stated:

“Professor Pearson and others have advocated the introduction of a system whereby proceedings which are held in open court are recorded on webcams that are installed in all courtrooms and live-streamed. A variation on this is for the court to have its own dedicated internet channel for live-streaming.

It may be argued that, with new and relatively inexpensive technology to record and live-stream proceedings, all proceedings should be live-streamed. This simply would enable members of the public to view what would be seen by them if they exercised their right to attend a proceeding in open court. It may be relatively inexpensive to install webcams in most courtrooms showing the judge and to live-stream the images from this single camera angle to a designated court website which citizens can access. However, such a system would not regulate what was to be broadcast. Guidelines and procedures, and judges and court staff in individual cases, would need to address the evidence of witnesses, including vulnerable witnesses, which may be affected by the knowledge that what they say is being broadcast to the world. Any new system would need to control the transmission of certain evidence to the general public, including the identity of victims and children whose identification is subject to statutory prohibitions. It also would need to control the broadcasting of the horrendous details of certain crimes. Monitoring the recording and transmission of evidence under a system which live-streamed all proceedings in all courtrooms would entail a very substantial cost to the community.

Many cases in the superior courts are of no real interest to the general public. Few members of the general public attend them, the media do not report them and it seems unlikely that more than a few members of the general public would wish to view them if they were live-streamed. The resources required to establish a system to record and live-stream all proceedings and to apply appropriate restrictions on what is communicated to the general public cannot be justified in the light of anticipated demand.”

© Mark Pearson 2016

Disclaimer: While I write about media law and ethics, nothing here should be construed as legal advice. I am an academic, not a lawyer. My only advice is that you consult a lawyer before taking any legal risks.

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