Last Sunday I took a phone call from a man enquiring about a court case.
Had I seen a press cutting – or more specifically, a photo of a press cutting – that mentioned a local man who’d appeared before Ipswich Crown Court on charges relating to indecent images. The caller named the person.
I hadn’t. And as someone who keeps a close eye on local stories, the court case was news to me. I told the caller that they that they should try searching the websites of the local press..
After the call, I put the name of the person mentioned into Google. Nothing.
Checking Facebook the next day, I looked at a completely unrelated post and saw that the picture had been added in a comment. Later, it was added to comments on our story about last week’s cannabis farm discovery. I removed it from public view and texted the man who’d phoned me to say why. I didn’t get a response.
Subsequently, the image was shared by at least one other local Facebook user, with other users adding comments. Complaints were made about why another local Facebook page “wouldn’t publish it”.
Before I explain why I didn’t want the image on my Facebook page, I should point out that there is something puzzling about this photograph.
It certainly looks like a press cutting. The short article it shows is written in a newspaper style. But I’ve been unable to find a single trace of the case anywhere online. Nothing relating to the name of the accused, nothing about the court case, no instance of the picture using a reverse image search. No mention on the websites of the papers that cover our area or Ipswich. Zilch.
In short, the only ‘evidence’ that this court case ever happened was a photograph of a supposed press cutting. Was it a fake? Could be. AI can do some clever stuff these days. Had the story been removed from the web? It’s difficult, but possible. Getting it removed from newspaper sites? Unlikely, given that the story was about a court case held in public.
A mystery, then.
But why didn’t I want it on our Facebook page?
For a start, I don’t like people ‘leeching’ off our posts – placing something entirely off-topic (and often controversial) when they appear not to want to publish it on their own pages.
The article sbown was completely uncorroborated with no clue as to where it might have been published. And even if there had been any way of checking its veracity, I’d still have removed it – and here’s why.
There are strict rules governing court reporting. By publishing the photograph – or allowing it to be circulated on the Brightlingsea Info Facebook page – I could have been in contempt of court. If the details shown turned out to be made up, I could have been facing a libel charge. I quite like my house, so that’s something I’m keen to avoid.
I wasn’t there to listen to the case (or have a another reporter do it for me). Reports have to be accurate. Names, charges, pleas, mitigation, sentences and more have to be accurately recorded. I couldn’t guarantee that. Court reports have to be published contemporaneously – not months later when it might suit a particular agenda. I had no way of knowing when the case took place.
Nothing to do with me knowing (or not) the person named in the article. Nothing to do with sensitivity or trying to protect anyone. Nothing to do with preventing anybody’s ‘free speech’ – which in any event only goes so far and could, in extreme cases, land you with a hefty legal bill or a spell in prison.
I started Brightlingsea Info to counter the sort of ‘alternative facts’, gossip and rumour that is social media’s stock in trade. I won’t publish material I can’t verify.
If you know where the report in the photograph came from – and can point me to a verifiable source – I’d be very interested to see it, if only to solve the mystery of its online invisibility. But I still won’t publish it.
