It should be called for what it is. The recent apoplectic,
lurid coverage of what was, at best, a matter for a corporations
human resources department dominating several news cycles even as
drownings continued in the Mediterranean, war continued being waged
in Ukraine and climate change continued issuing ominous reminders
of its existence.
The issue at hand? Allegations that a BBC presenter, said
to be a household name, had paid 35,000 to a youth over a period of
several years in return for sexually explicit photos. The
payments are said to have started when the young person in question
was 17, leading to questions about whether a crime had taken place
in the making, sharing or possessing of incident images.
The story made
its debut in that king of rags, The Sun. The
howls followed. As an article headline read: Top BBC star who
paid child for sex pictures could be charged by cops and face years
in prison, expert says.
Within a few days, three issues started to thump and pulsate in
the mediascape: whether the as yet unnamed presenter had solicited
the images in the first place; whether the BBC had shown
indifference in ignoring the complaints of that behaviour by a
concerned family member; and whether the entire matter was,
according to the lawyer representing the young person, rubbish.
The whole affair led to various episodes of sheer terror within
the BBC itself, with Jeremy Vine, a colleague of the still unnamed
presenter, demanding
the identity be revealed in order to stop yet more vitriol being
thrown about at perfectly innocent colleagues at his, placing the
broadcaster on its knees.
The BBC found itself in a bizarre, masochistic bind of
constantly covering itself, repeatedly running stories on the
matter, including a report on July 11 that a second young
individual had supposedly received abusive messages from the
presenter via a dating app. Much of this was put down to
journalistic integrity, not wishing to sweep such matters under the
carpet.
More details emerged, even as the NATO summit in Vilnius
continued. The unnamed person was outed as BBC anchor Huw
Edwards. On July 12, it was revealed by his wife, Vicky
Flind, that he had been hospitalised, suffering a mental breakdown
the handiwork, it was claimed, of The Suns lurid
coverage. But what also emerged was that the police had found
no evidence or grounds to suggest that a crime had been
committed. The whole matter had been an issue of outing the
private life of a public figure.
The excuses and apologias are thickening over the reasons for
the coverage, fed by platoons of analysts, journalists, and
pundits. The BBC,
reasons...
Azad Essa's new book uncovers Israel and India's joint
history, as well as the affinities between the toxic ideologies
ungirding their national projects.
