Leading Article: A press gag disguised as public protection

PROPOSALS for a privacy law are published this morning - with the utmost privacy. The Government is clearly keen that its plans should receive slight publicity: it waited until Parliament had risen for the summer before releasing its White Paper, and then chose a day dominated by the Christchurch by-election result. Consultation closes on 15 October, a short time given the parliamentary recess. Cynics may not be alone in feeling suspicious.

Lord Mackay, the Lord Chancellor, couches his plans in general terms. He wants everyone to have a right to privacy, a way to protect their personal lives, particularly involving their health, communications, family and personal relationships. Privacy, argues the White Paper, 'encompasses not only seclusion from neighbours or the avoidance of publicity, but freedom from unwarranted interference by the state'. This sounds laudable, suggesting protecting the individual not just from prurient paparazzi but the overarching state and any other Peeping Tom. The discussion document raises the question whether noisy neighbours and telephone pests could fall within the ambit of a new law.

However, the weight of the White Paper is preoccupied with the Government's singular concern: the press. Three years after Sir David Calcutt called for a privacy law, and months after he said the newspaper industry had not put its house in order, the Government has set out its plans. In future, the press would have to justify publishing details of confidential documents, rocky marriages, torrid affairs, failing health, private conversations. It would not be enough to say, for example, that the public wanted to know about a politician's peccadilloes; a newspaper would have to prove they had a legitimate interest. David Mellor might have slept more easily with Antonia de Sancha under such a regime. More worrying, articles highlighting the foibles of the powerful might never be printed. Newspapers would not be subject to prior restraint, but the fainthearted may be cowed.

The 'public interest' would be determined by a voluntary ombudsman established by the press and able to offer compensation. Dissatisfied complainants could seek redress in the courts, a weakness in Lord Mackay's proposals. A litigant should be allowed to choose one or other process, not both.

Lord Mackay is proposing a fairly narrow definition of public interest, which will depend on judicial interpretation. Judges are not generally journalists' friends. His proposals are also focused quite specifically on the media. The state gets off lightly. Nor is this the Government's last word. Another White Paper is due, suggesting additional press controls. Such challenges to freedom of speech are worrying in this the 14th year of government by one party.

Despite the furore created by politicians about the need to control the media, they have yet to show that the current codes of conduct, voluntarily policed, are redundant. Ordinary people deserve protection of their privacy, but want to know the truth. Lord Mackay's White Paper is neither the best nor the only way to strike this balance.