Crime and Punishment

I was always told that one of the advantages of studying an undergraduate arts degree at a Scottish university was the sheer breadth of education you can achieve. So I'm glad to say that, during my undergraduate years, I took some intellectual detours from the Shakespeare and Chaucer courses that normally comprise a degree in English Literature to expand my horizons and delve into the depths of several off topic subjects including (unsuccessfully) studying Spanish, (very successfully) completing two years of an accounts degree and (more interestingly) a brief spell studying criminal law. 

So, while not quite rivaling Perry Mason in my depth of knowledge, I do have a fairly good grasp of what constitutes criminal behaviour. 

Which brings me to the recent case of Lord McAlpine versus the Member Population of Twitter (or at least some of them). 

Debates have been raging all week, online, on air and offline. Some people seem to think this is a matter for the freedom of speech zealots. Lord McAlpine has been quite clear: he's been falsely accused of criminal activity, his reputation and character sullied, and he intends to pursue all the individuals who have participated in this gang defamation of his, otherwise exemplary, good character. 

What many Twitter users seem to be struggling to grasp is that they are (wittingly or unwittingly) guilty of committing a crime. 

Twitter, as a medium, is a broadcasting platform. You don't choose your followers, they choose you. The only control you have, as the owner of a Twitter account, is whether or not to broadcast and you have ultimate editorial responsibility for the content of that which you do choose to broadcast. 

This means that, in law, you have exactly the same responsibilities as the (recently much maligned) BBC when it comes to broadcasting and spreading rumour, conjecture and speculation. 

The fact that, on this sorry occasion, the BBC was actually the source and catalyst for the rumour, conjecture and speculation just goes to show how much trust the British public have in their national broadcaster. That they have already settled matters with Lord McAlpine, swiftly and without resistance, says much for their sense of responsibility and corporate citizenship and is to be commended. 

As for the thousands of other "perpetrators" who are (hopefully) now looking at their preferred broadcasting platform with a new sense of awe and responsibility, they can only hope that Lord McAlpine will be merciful in his pursuit of justice. 

But the lesson must be learned: freedom of speech comes with responsibilities and if you act irresponsibly, whether it's in print, online or in person, you must and will pay the price. That price may even be with your own freedom, if it's deemed to be a serious enough crime. 

This is not cyber-bullying. We're not in the playground now. This is serious stuff. And it's long overdue in being brought to the surface for discussion. It's regrettable that its victim is a frail 70 year old man, who has had to bear the brunt of such terrible accusations in order for it to be brought into the national consciousness. Imagine if it was your Grandfather. How would you feel then?

For all the law abiding citizens of Twitter who are wondering whether their preferred social media platform is now a fast track passport to an already crowded prison system, as in life, a wee bit of common sense goes a long way:  if you would not be prepared to put the content of your tweet in full page advert in a national newspaper, step away from the keyboard and go and make yourself a cup of tea instead.