Farewell Jacko. The Sun was right - you really were wacko, but the thing is, you probably couldn't have been anything else. If there is a lesson from his life it is that being famous is more of a curse than a blessing.
He had no childhood. Well, not a childhood that any of us would recognise. Being the object of a marketing campaign when you're twelve or whatever just ain't good for you. For a start you don't rub alongside the other kids because you've got a tour to do. As a kid you need to experience a few failures and find a way to deal with them. But if you're famous your manager and record company deal with that. You're just a money-making machine to them.
He had so much money he didn't seem to understand the value of it. He covered up his kids and himself in public because they didn't have a private life. What child deserves that? That's got to be the most devastating thing about being famous in that instantly-recognised, dumbly-adulated way: no privacy whatsoever. If that's not a living hell will somebody please tell me what is.
If people who go on X-Factor, Britain's Got 'Talent' (couldn't resist the quotation marks) and others can't learn from Michael Jackson, if they still think that it's a good career move to be human heroin for TV and tabloid junkies to inject themselveswith for an instant thrill or distraction, then more fool them.
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Monday, 22 June 2009
NightJack vs The Times
A police officer and blogger who reported from inside the police has been revealed. He had battled in the courts to keep his identity secret, but the judge overruled him and he was unmasked. He called himself 'NightJack. In fact he is Richard Horton, a detective constable in the Lancashire constabulary.
The ruling is significant because it sets a precedent: My Justice Eady ruled that blogging is essentially a public activity and that bloggers therefore have no automatic right to privacy.
So it’s a bad day for us bloggers. If you are a whistleblower exposing corruption or incompetence, the law will not ride to your defence. Even if you have something interesting to say that gets you a following (NightJack had 500,000 apparently – if only I had that!) you have no legal right to privacy and so your employer can, and probably will, catch you. And sack you.
The Times is responsible for this. The reporter who sniffed out NightJack is Patrick Foster. Readers of my blog will see that I worked at The Times recently, doing work experience on their Home News section. I didn’t meet Patrick Foster, but as you will see in my previous post, I got a flavour of the ethos of The Times during my time there.
Was this a blow for, or against freedom? This judgment doesn’t restrict freedom to blog, just freedom to hide. And as we can see in Iran and China, anonymity is an essential tool in the arsenal against the power of the state. But there is a competing freedom: the freedom to report.
If The Times wants to report upon, and scrutinise, an anonymous blogger who may or may not be telling the truth 100% of the time, then why shouldn’t they? NightJack wasn’t asking the court to allow him to write; he was asking the court to censor someone else’s freedom to publish. So the onus in this case was on NightJack to explain why the media should be muzzled, not why he should be allowed to blog with complete anonymity. If you want to have freedom of the press – and I do – it has to be absolute, and cut both ways.
I am a blogger. If I want to publish something critical, mischievous, seditious, scurrilous or scandalous then I remain free to do so. That is freedom of expression. As long as I’m not doing anything criminal, that remains the case. What this judgement says, however, is that I cannot expect other journalists’ freedom of expression and reporting to be curtailed on my behalf, just because I will be left feeling uncomfortable when my employer (or anyone else) finds out who I am.
Now there’s a lot of cant being spouted by The Times right now. They weren’t acting as guardians of free expression in bringing this case, that’s for sure. They argued in court that it was in the public interest for NighJack to be exposed. Come off it. We love the sheer cheek of a guardian of the law savaging his superiors and gving us the inside picture on how the fuzz go about their business. The Times knew full well that if they won then anonymous blogs that challenged authority in any way shape or form would be doomed.
Legally The Times deserved to win, because their freedom of reporting trumps NightJack’s desire for court censorship. Yes the ruling will restrict his freedom to publish, and will worry all the other subversive bloggers out there. But NightJack’s discomfort when the Chief Inspector asks him into the office for ‘a little chat’ is part of the chain reaction of the ruling, and not strictly the issue the courts had to pass judgment on.
The Times doesn’t come out well from this. They brought this case out of self-interest, not to champion freedom of speech. When I worked at The Times in May 2009 I was told over and over again that the printed media is in a death spiral, unable to pull out of the destructive wake left by online media content. Why pay for a paper owned by Rupert Murdoch to tell you about the police when a real copper can give you the inside picture without having to pass through the filter of the Police’s own media department?
So The Times brought this case to kill off blogs as a viable alternative to mainstream media. Perhaps they didn’t set out with that aim in mind initially – no-one can really say, apart from the editor. But they are smart people; I know because I’ve met and worked with them. They knew that the blogosphere, at least in the UK, would never be the same if they won this case.
The Times’ defence, as articulated by Daniel Finkelstein, doesn’t pass muster. Sure, NightJack might have been a politician masquerading as a copper. So what? The whole point of the internet, of ‘citizen journalists’, is that there are so many of them. We don’t have to take anyone’s word for it.
So the end result is that blogging is really no different to standing up on Hyde Park corner and yelling something. You can say what you like, as long as you don’t break the law. If what you say upsets your company, they can sack you. You can challenge them in an industrial tribunal. If your contract has a clause of ‘gross misconduct’, the tribunal must interpret whether you have been in breach of this. It’s not an automatic ‘you’re fired’ judgment. Companies need protecting from anonymous employees who may lie about them. But the downside of this judgment is that one more avenue for whistleblowers has been firmly closed. It looks like they’ll just have to go to The Times now. Which is probably what they wanted. If anything good is to come out of this judgement it should be how to give whistleblowers more protection. The blogosphere is not the answer.
So I mourn the exposure of NightJack, and The Times' victory. But it was inevitable, and bloggers need to understand that the internet isn’t anonymous. It never was. Suppose The Times had lost the case. What if another blogger found out who NightJack was and wanted to expose him? Would the courts be right in silencing him too? You can’t pick and choose freedom of expression. Get over it guys. And keep blogging.
The ruling is significant because it sets a precedent: My Justice Eady ruled that blogging is essentially a public activity and that bloggers therefore have no automatic right to privacy.
So it’s a bad day for us bloggers. If you are a whistleblower exposing corruption or incompetence, the law will not ride to your defence. Even if you have something interesting to say that gets you a following (NightJack had 500,000 apparently – if only I had that!) you have no legal right to privacy and so your employer can, and probably will, catch you. And sack you.
The Times is responsible for this. The reporter who sniffed out NightJack is Patrick Foster. Readers of my blog will see that I worked at The Times recently, doing work experience on their Home News section. I didn’t meet Patrick Foster, but as you will see in my previous post, I got a flavour of the ethos of The Times during my time there.
Was this a blow for, or against freedom? This judgment doesn’t restrict freedom to blog, just freedom to hide. And as we can see in Iran and China, anonymity is an essential tool in the arsenal against the power of the state. But there is a competing freedom: the freedom to report.
If The Times wants to report upon, and scrutinise, an anonymous blogger who may or may not be telling the truth 100% of the time, then why shouldn’t they? NightJack wasn’t asking the court to allow him to write; he was asking the court to censor someone else’s freedom to publish. So the onus in this case was on NightJack to explain why the media should be muzzled, not why he should be allowed to blog with complete anonymity. If you want to have freedom of the press – and I do – it has to be absolute, and cut both ways.
I am a blogger. If I want to publish something critical, mischievous, seditious, scurrilous or scandalous then I remain free to do so. That is freedom of expression. As long as I’m not doing anything criminal, that remains the case. What this judgement says, however, is that I cannot expect other journalists’ freedom of expression and reporting to be curtailed on my behalf, just because I will be left feeling uncomfortable when my employer (or anyone else) finds out who I am.
Now there’s a lot of cant being spouted by The Times right now. They weren’t acting as guardians of free expression in bringing this case, that’s for sure. They argued in court that it was in the public interest for NighJack to be exposed. Come off it. We love the sheer cheek of a guardian of the law savaging his superiors and gving us the inside picture on how the fuzz go about their business. The Times knew full well that if they won then anonymous blogs that challenged authority in any way shape or form would be doomed.
Legally The Times deserved to win, because their freedom of reporting trumps NightJack’s desire for court censorship. Yes the ruling will restrict his freedom to publish, and will worry all the other subversive bloggers out there. But NightJack’s discomfort when the Chief Inspector asks him into the office for ‘a little chat’ is part of the chain reaction of the ruling, and not strictly the issue the courts had to pass judgment on.
The Times doesn’t come out well from this. They brought this case out of self-interest, not to champion freedom of speech. When I worked at The Times in May 2009 I was told over and over again that the printed media is in a death spiral, unable to pull out of the destructive wake left by online media content. Why pay for a paper owned by Rupert Murdoch to tell you about the police when a real copper can give you the inside picture without having to pass through the filter of the Police’s own media department?
So The Times brought this case to kill off blogs as a viable alternative to mainstream media. Perhaps they didn’t set out with that aim in mind initially – no-one can really say, apart from the editor. But they are smart people; I know because I’ve met and worked with them. They knew that the blogosphere, at least in the UK, would never be the same if they won this case.
The Times’ defence, as articulated by Daniel Finkelstein, doesn’t pass muster. Sure, NightJack might have been a politician masquerading as a copper. So what? The whole point of the internet, of ‘citizen journalists’, is that there are so many of them. We don’t have to take anyone’s word for it.
So the end result is that blogging is really no different to standing up on Hyde Park corner and yelling something. You can say what you like, as long as you don’t break the law. If what you say upsets your company, they can sack you. You can challenge them in an industrial tribunal. If your contract has a clause of ‘gross misconduct’, the tribunal must interpret whether you have been in breach of this. It’s not an automatic ‘you’re fired’ judgment. Companies need protecting from anonymous employees who may lie about them. But the downside of this judgment is that one more avenue for whistleblowers has been firmly closed. It looks like they’ll just have to go to The Times now. Which is probably what they wanted. If anything good is to come out of this judgement it should be how to give whistleblowers more protection. The blogosphere is not the answer.
So I mourn the exposure of NightJack, and The Times' victory. But it was inevitable, and bloggers need to understand that the internet isn’t anonymous. It never was. Suppose The Times had lost the case. What if another blogger found out who NightJack was and wanted to expose him? Would the courts be right in silencing him too? You can’t pick and choose freedom of expression. Get over it guys. And keep blogging.
Saturday, 20 June 2009
I'm Back....
After a hiatus of some months, I have returned to my blog and will be posting again. I have completed work experience at The Times and The Sunday Telegraph so will be giving you the inside picture on those papers too.
Wednesday, 20 May 2009
My article in
Here it is, a case study I researched and wrote myself, about an innovative offer Hyundai have made in the US:
http://business.timesonline.co.uk/tol/business/industry_sectors/retailing/article6307756.ece
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
University Challenge - The Final (insult)
On Monday I watched the final of University Challenge. Corpus Christi College, Oxford, edged out Manchester University to win. I'm a general knowledge geek, so like pitting myself against the contestants. Except that the star of the Corpus Christi team, and in fact the whole series, has been one Miss Gail Trimble.
She was far and away the most knowledgeable, and (crucially for this quiz show) speedy in her responses on everything from biology to Shakespeare, central Asia to Latin aphorisms, and single-handedly amassing scored 825 of Corpus Christi's 1,235 points. Gail is no supermodel - I'd describe her appearance as sweet - but having a stellar brain just pushes a woman several notches higher up in the desirability stakes. A lady who can demonstrate depth of knowledge, learning, culture and an understanding of the world automatically becomes that little bit hotter. For me, anyway.
Unfortunately poor Gail has been engulfed in a maelstrom of publicity, much of it emanating from angry bloggers, furious at her supposed arrogance, smugness and poshness. Jesus, give the girl a break.
I watched her in the final (and semi-final the previous week) where she was lightening quick on the buzzer and displayed a formidable general knowledge. Bloggers and Facebook cretins are apparently infuriated that she smiled after each question answered correctly, or said "well done" or "quite!" to her colleagues when they got something right. (She could have won it all by herself).
We all know what it really is, don't we? It's inverted snobbery, envy, and class prejudice - plain as the nose on your face. So what if she smiled when she got things right? If you were on telly in front of millions you'd grin a little too. If you didn't people would say you were moody, arrogant etc etc. I noticed she had a habit of flicking back her long mane of hair rather imperiously after every answer was again rewarded by a clearly smitten Paxman with an affirmative. But again, so what? Everyone has their little ticks, habits and idiosyncrasies. Put yourself on TV, bigmouth, and we'll see how you look.
Funny how the nation fawns over Jade Goody, the uber-chav and ignoramus supreme. I feel sorry for her now she has cancer, but I'm referring to her lionising by the media before her illness. Isn't it safer to gawp at someone when they're so obviously dumber than you? But take a uber-smart woman, who is successful, and whom you could never emulate and suddenly the women of Britain (and is mostly the women) are venting their rage at her. Too bad the sisters missed the chance to take to the blogosphere to defend one of their own when she does quite well in, you know, the male power-structures. Oh wait, they don't actually like her being a bit brainy. Sorry Gail, back to the kitchen, love.
Then there's her class. Maybe it's because she single-handedly (almost) smacked the arse off those northerners from Manchester. But really it's because she's vaguely posh, goes to Oxford, has a 'cut-glass' accent (whatever that is) and - this is the clincher - she went to a private school.
The Sun jumped on the bandwagon and wasted no time in applying a bit of inverse snobbery. In a spectacular display of vulgarity and crassness trumpeted the fact that Gail failed to answer a single question - a single question! - of their own "pub quiz". Sample question: "Who won the most recent series of Celebrity Big Brother?" Well I bet that makes the Einsteins who read The Sun feel a lot better about themselves.
I've been a fan of this show since the 1980s, when Bamber Gascoigne presided over this general knowledge inter-university quiz. Even with the inferior, sneering little twerp Jeremy Paxman in the role of host (or 'inquisitor' as some people refer to him) it's still compelling. I've never got over missing out on the chance to represent my alma mater, The University of Warwick, while I was a student there between 1992 and 1995. Inexplicably, the BBC axed Bamber Gascoigne and the show between 1992 and 1997 (I think), only resurrecting it when it was too late for me to even apply. I did see someone I recognised on the Warwick team a little later.
As for my own performance, I did get a few of Gail's questions in the semis and final myself, especially the history and Latin ones ("Carpe Diem" - that's "seize the day" by Homer! Hooray!). But she would still have trounced me, and most other people. And that's what the cyberspace bullies don't like.
Monday, 16 February 2009
The Credit Crunch - YOU are to blame
That's right, you. Not the banks, the chief executives of said banks, the traders, short-sellers, estate agents, gazumpers, or even politicians. You. Well, partly.
Now I know this is harsh. And here in the UK the chiefs of several major banks have been hauled before the Treasury Select Committee in the House of Commons and 'grilled', as they say in the jargon here, on their role in the credit crunch. Like medieval undesirables being put in the stocks, the bankers were forced to endure the rotten tomatoes thrown by, of all people, politicians.
You could just sense the MPs' relish at finally getting their chance to play the role of people's champion, and striking a blow for the common man. Rarely do politicians find themselves in such a position, usually being themselves pilloried for their duplicity and greed and universally despised to boot. So there they were, like modern-day Wat Tylers in their own little Peasants' Revolt. Except of course, it was nothing more than an exercise in theatre and hypocrisy. Politicians like John McFall MP, the Chairman of the Committee, are trying to salvage their own reputations - and who better to make even a politician look like a virgin bride than a banker? To quote Oscar Wilde, it was 'the unspeakable in full pursuit of the uneatable'.
But all this blaming and outrage serves to obscure the pernicious tendency in today's society to blame everyone under the sun but oneself. I agree, the banking ghouls who sought quick bucks, the spineless regulators who let them carry out regardless and the politicians, now crying foul, who encouraged them all the way are to be despised. But how about the general public accept that they played their part, and take some of the blame themselves?
I don't remember a mass boycott of 100% mortgages, at 4, 5, or 6 times a borrowers salary; no boycott of cheap and easy credit cards with their low interest rates. Where money was available, people took it, investors bought buy-to-let properties, bank shareholders approved the bonus culture which skewed the banking system. Shareholders also voted en masse for the de-mutualisation of the building societies for a few bucks - great, but these banks are now all bust or have been sold to foreign buys for a pittance. Not so great.
For years everyone I spoke to spoke of the 'housing bubble' - warning of the inevitable 'correction' in the housing market. The whole country could see it, but not everyone acted on it. Gordon Brown, as Chancellor and then Prime Minister, did nothing whatever about it. We've had housing booms in the UK before. Unsustainable demand always collapses. The same with credit cards, that everyone was in love with until just recently. It all boils down to personal responsibility, something lost in British society.
If you go ice-skating and break your leg, it's your fault. Mostly. But everyone wants to sue the ice rink now. When people get themselves into a mess they cast around for a pantomime villain - the system, the government, their parents, their friends; anyone but themselves. And so it has been with the recession. I always find it hard to sympathise with people who have a debt problem. Just because you walk past McDonald's every day doesn't mean you have to ram down their big macs, does it? It's your own damn fault.
Bankers, politicians, regulators and a flawed system have to take a lot of the blame. But don't wriggle out of personal responsibility. Consider the inverse: people who shunned easy credit and high debt and instead saved might be feeling aggrieved right now. The Bank of England is slashing interest rates, printing money, offering vast loans and generally prostituting itself to save the indebted, and their egregious banks. It seems unfair. But hold on. People who have over-stretched themselves most will be hit hardest, and first: repossessions and bailiffs. If you lose your job, those with savings will be best placed to ride it out.
The causes of the recession are many, and complex. But you reap what you sow. Collectively, as a society; but also individually. There's a lesson in there somewhere.
For years everyone I spoke to spoke of the 'housing bubble' - warning of the inevitable 'correction' in the housing market. The whole country could see it, but not everyone acted on it. Gordon Brown, as Chancellor and then Prime Minister, did nothing whatever about it. We've had housing booms in the UK before. Unsustainable demand always collapses. The same with credit cards, that everyone was in love with until just recently. It all boils down to personal responsibility, something lost in British society.
If you go ice-skating and break your leg, it's your fault. Mostly. But everyone wants to sue the ice rink now. When people get themselves into a mess they cast around for a pantomime villain - the system, the government, their parents, their friends; anyone but themselves. And so it has been with the recession. I always find it hard to sympathise with people who have a debt problem. Just because you walk past McDonald's every day doesn't mean you have to ram down their big macs, does it? It's your own damn fault.
Bankers, politicians, regulators and a flawed system have to take a lot of the blame. But don't wriggle out of personal responsibility. Consider the inverse: people who shunned easy credit and high debt and instead saved might be feeling aggrieved right now. The Bank of England is slashing interest rates, printing money, offering vast loans and generally prostituting itself to save the indebted, and their egregious banks. It seems unfair. But hold on. People who have over-stretched themselves most will be hit hardest, and first: repossessions and bailiffs. If you lose your job, those with savings will be best placed to ride it out.
The causes of the recession are many, and complex. But you reap what you sow. Collectively, as a society; but also individually. There's a lesson in there somewhere.
Thursday, 12 February 2009
Stopped and Questioned - Section 44
A few weeks ago I was on my way back to the office from the bank during my lunch break. I work very close to Highbury and Islington station and was beginning a walk through Highbury Fields back to my place of work. I didn't pay any particular attention to the police van parked by the junction, or to the policeman standing beside it. "Excuse me," he said as I passed. "Could I have a quick word?"
I said yes, of course. He sounded almost apologetic. He then told me that he was carrying out some "stop and questions", and that he had been authorised to do so by the Assistant Commissioner under Section 44 of the Prevention of Terrorism Act - and could I please explain to him what I was doing in the area? I was just stunned - was he serious? It was so absurd on so many levels that I was tempted to laugh, but guessed that he was serious and that an air of ridicule would not have worked in my favour. I said sure - I was on my way back to work from my lunch. Which I was. He said thank you very much that's all - oh, and did I understand why I had been stopped? I said no, I didn't. I thought – why me?
So the bobby proceeded to explain the reasoning behind his action. Except that he didn't. He just repeated, verbatim, what he had just told me. That the Assistant Commissioner had designated this area as somewhere where stop and questioning could take place because of sub-sections 1 and 2 of Section 44 of the Prevention of Terrorism Act - and that was why I had been stopped. And he assured me that he was stopping people of every colour and race, and that it was nothing to do with that. And that that was why he had stopped me. And questioned me. I didn't point out to him that his reasoning was circular and amounted to really no reason at all. I could see that it wasn't worth it, that he was just doing his job, following orders and trying his best. And, I have to say, he was very, very polite; friendly, even.
Something strange then happened. He offered to take down my name in a notebook - but not necessarily my address. He said this was purely optional, that it wouldn't be kept, and that it for my protection: if I wanted to pursue a claim against him the police notes would reveal who he was. I said ok. I noticed he spelt my name wrong (I have a very awkward surname) and he didn't write down my address. So no chance of anything going on my record in the vast databases the police have. I went on my way, but felt I shouldn't really have given him my name. In fact thet whole episode struck me as an absurd waste of his and my time, and an exercise in futility that made no-one any safer.
Let's suppose I was in fact, a terrorist. Not a freedom-fighter, of course - but a terrorist. (You can write in and we can debate the difference.) Now why would I tell PC Plod that I was on my way to blow up some infidels? You can bet I wouldn't. It would take a blunder of pub-theatre proportions for me to blurt out my dastardly plan. So we can safely say that a real terrorist would not be snared by the "excuse me can I have a word" tactic. I like to think I'm a reasonable chap who recognises that the cops have a tough, and unpleasant job to do so I didn't kick up a fuss, play the race card (I'm a bit swarthy, you see) or threaten to sue anyone. Besides, Plod isn't responsible for Section 44 - the government is.The problem with Section 44 is that it proffers no basis for discerning suspicion. None. It's just applied against whomsoever the officer feels like questioning. From the public's perspective it's a preposterous intrusion into their everyday lives (why do I have to tell anyone why I'm on a street?) and from the police's point of view it's an absurd waste of time and resources. It smacks of the old 'sus' laws in the UK, when the police could stop and search anyone without having to explain themselves. It's the first crack in the shiny white egg-shell of a free society - the apparatus of the state being able to decide at a whim that it should demand that you explain your very presence.
I'm all in favour of hunting down those who mean to kill us. I was on the tube system on 7th July 2005 and escaped the bombs meant to kill me. I want my would-be killers destroyed, stopped, or at least caught. But stoppages of the citizenry need to be based on evidence. Evidence that the fellow walking through Highbury Fields may have been, or is about to be, involved in plotting murder, or evidence that carrying out such stops can actually prevent a crime. (For example if it is known that a bomber is in the Highbury Fields area and he is a 6ft swarthy type - then I'd understand.) Notice I do not say 'proof' - evidence can be something much flimsier than that. I'm happy to entertain the argument that some evidence is so sensitive that it should not be made public - as long as a judge can still view and assess it. But random stop and questions, or stop and searches, that are based on an individual's gut feeling (ie prejudice) serve no purpose, achieve nothing, waste much and ironically leave us more vulnerable to those who would harm us.
If you have had a similar experience, or have a comment to make, please write in.
I said yes, of course. He sounded almost apologetic. He then told me that he was carrying out some "stop and questions", and that he had been authorised to do so by the Assistant Commissioner under Section 44 of the Prevention of Terrorism Act - and could I please explain to him what I was doing in the area? I was just stunned - was he serious? It was so absurd on so many levels that I was tempted to laugh, but guessed that he was serious and that an air of ridicule would not have worked in my favour. I said sure - I was on my way back to work from my lunch. Which I was. He said thank you very much that's all - oh, and did I understand why I had been stopped? I said no, I didn't. I thought – why me?
So the bobby proceeded to explain the reasoning behind his action. Except that he didn't. He just repeated, verbatim, what he had just told me. That the Assistant Commissioner had designated this area as somewhere where stop and questioning could take place because of sub-sections 1 and 2 of Section 44 of the Prevention of Terrorism Act - and that was why I had been stopped. And he assured me that he was stopping people of every colour and race, and that it was nothing to do with that. And that that was why he had stopped me. And questioned me. I didn't point out to him that his reasoning was circular and amounted to really no reason at all. I could see that it wasn't worth it, that he was just doing his job, following orders and trying his best. And, I have to say, he was very, very polite; friendly, even.
Something strange then happened. He offered to take down my name in a notebook - but not necessarily my address. He said this was purely optional, that it wouldn't be kept, and that it for my protection: if I wanted to pursue a claim against him the police notes would reveal who he was. I said ok. I noticed he spelt my name wrong (I have a very awkward surname) and he didn't write down my address. So no chance of anything going on my record in the vast databases the police have. I went on my way, but felt I shouldn't really have given him my name. In fact thet whole episode struck me as an absurd waste of his and my time, and an exercise in futility that made no-one any safer.
Let's suppose I was in fact, a terrorist. Not a freedom-fighter, of course - but a terrorist. (You can write in and we can debate the difference.) Now why would I tell PC Plod that I was on my way to blow up some infidels? You can bet I wouldn't. It would take a blunder of pub-theatre proportions for me to blurt out my dastardly plan. So we can safely say that a real terrorist would not be snared by the "excuse me can I have a word" tactic. I like to think I'm a reasonable chap who recognises that the cops have a tough, and unpleasant job to do so I didn't kick up a fuss, play the race card (I'm a bit swarthy, you see) or threaten to sue anyone. Besides, Plod isn't responsible for Section 44 - the government is.The problem with Section 44 is that it proffers no basis for discerning suspicion. None. It's just applied against whomsoever the officer feels like questioning. From the public's perspective it's a preposterous intrusion into their everyday lives (why do I have to tell anyone why I'm on a street?) and from the police's point of view it's an absurd waste of time and resources. It smacks of the old 'sus' laws in the UK, when the police could stop and search anyone without having to explain themselves. It's the first crack in the shiny white egg-shell of a free society - the apparatus of the state being able to decide at a whim that it should demand that you explain your very presence.
I'm all in favour of hunting down those who mean to kill us. I was on the tube system on 7th July 2005 and escaped the bombs meant to kill me. I want my would-be killers destroyed, stopped, or at least caught. But stoppages of the citizenry need to be based on evidence. Evidence that the fellow walking through Highbury Fields may have been, or is about to be, involved in plotting murder, or evidence that carrying out such stops can actually prevent a crime. (For example if it is known that a bomber is in the Highbury Fields area and he is a 6ft swarthy type - then I'd understand.) Notice I do not say 'proof' - evidence can be something much flimsier than that. I'm happy to entertain the argument that some evidence is so sensitive that it should not be made public - as long as a judge can still view and assess it. But random stop and questions, or stop and searches, that are based on an individual's gut feeling (ie prejudice) serve no purpose, achieve nothing, waste much and ironically leave us more vulnerable to those who would harm us.
If you have had a similar experience, or have a comment to make, please write in.
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