Dec
2
Trading Information by Nicholas Jones
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Trading Information is the most recent in a series of books by former BBC journalist Nicholas Jones about the relationship between politics and the media.
It promises an “incisive assessment of the effectiveness of some of the leading leakers and information traders of the era.” This is hyperbole of a sort because the book doesn’t uncover any evidence of any trading in information (in a financial sense) over and above the simple scenario of: journalist gets privileged information, newspaper gives it a favourable write-up. But whilst it tells the story of leakers and information givers, it crys out for more analysis.
However, the book does provide a comprehensive assessment of political leaks from the 1980s to the present day. These accounts are wideranging; Nick Jones’ personal involvement in leaking John Major’s “cabinet bastards” remark receives far greater detail than Charlie Whelan’s leak to The Sun about the Chancellor’s assessment on Euro entry which had a clear financial impact on the markets.
The book’s analysis would be stronger if it had a longer memory. Leaks in the Wilson government receive less attention than they deserve – given that the practice was much more novel and exactly why New Labour embarked on it’s kamikaze strategy if permanent leaks to selected journalists isn’t explored.
Nick Jones also fails to distinguish between different sorts of leaks. Not all the tactics analysed by Jones are leaks. the decision by Alastair Campbell to give Anthony Bevins the exclusive on Alan Howarth’s defection may be interesting but doesn’t really stand up as a leak next to the Sun getting the exclusive on the postponed general election of May 2001. The media handling of Cherie Blair’s pregnancy may tell the reader something about the characters involved but does not deserve to appear in the same category as legendary public interest leakers like Clive Ponting and Sarah Tisdall. These cases show that not all leaks are bad and that criticisms from government on people leaking the information aren’t necessarily justified.
By failing to distinguish between good leaks and bad leaks, Jones fails to explain to the reader the difference this makes to the journalist; how a public interest leak which is hostile to the government affects their ability to get ‘insider information’ and how the reliance on favourable information leaked in the interests of government may lead to the journalist failing to scrutinise the information properly.
This highlights my wider problem with the book. It’s focussed on the supply side of leaks – the dastardly spin doctors and politicians with too little focus on the demand side – the journalists who are complicit in the trading of information. So we read of Tim Allan (then Alastair Campbell’s deputy):
“he became Campbell’s willing helper, eager to do all he could to assist in promoting the party as it prepared for the 1997 general election”.
As a Labour Party employee, and Campbell’s deputy – that much should be tolerated, surely? But we read of Charlie Whelan:
“Unlike Campbell, who had grown to detest most journalists, Whelan enjoyed their company and remained a free spirit, regularly poking fun at what he considered were some of the more ridiculous examples of the control freakery of New Labour.”
without any analysis of whether this was about Whelan using private conversations (or leaks) to undermine Blair’s leadership on behalf of his boss. Here, Mr Jones appears to have fallen into the trap set by ‘leakers’ for journalists – and unwittingly highlighted how journalists can be so eager to fall into an easy story rather than interrogating what was said, why it was said, and what the leaker had to gain.
The book was an interesting piece of contemporary history to this extent: I was left overwhelming sense of how far the debate around public interest has shifted. In the mid-1990s, government ministers could credibly criticise the opposition for handling leaked documents – suggesting that it undermined the government and the relationship between politicians and civil servants – using the sort of language of paternalism and ‘government knows best’ which ministers would be unlikely to get away with today – in the age of bloggers like Guido Fawkes.
At points, I found the book needlessly long on detail and short on analysis and so am guilty of skipping through passages. If I’ve missed important parts of the book, then I stand ready to be corrected. But I would give some time to a follow-up book which looks at how the expectations of openness and the public interest have changed the whole tenor of debate. Mr Jones may find it ironic if that was New Labour’s unwitting contribution to the political-media nexus.
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