This week, Lord Justice Leveson will unveil his findings on standards and ethics in the British press, and somewhat predictably, there will be a growing number of people arguing in favour of statutory underpinning of the press. There can be no question that the Press Complaints Commission requires significant reform, but regarding statutory underpinning of the press as a panacea would be greatly misguided.

Irrespective of whether you are for it or against it, it is worth keeping at least one thing in mind: offences such as phone hacking and police bribery are already covered by existing laws, and statutory underpinning would have offered little in a situation where people in positions of power and responsibility knowingly broke those laws.

Increasingly, I have found great difficulty thinking of higher education in the United Kingdom – and in particular my own university – without singing the chorus to The Animals’ “We gotta get out of this place”.

Once upon a time, such outbursts may have been mere parapraxes. Nowadays they feel more like unabashed cris de coeur.

I have no doubt that there are hundreds – if not thousands – of written pieces seeking to analyse the rights and wrongs of higher education. For me to attempt my own analysis would require far more time than I could reasonably spare. That said, with all that I experience on a regular basis, I find myself arriving at the same disheartening conclusion: that a great many clever people – staff and students alike – are being woefully let down by universities that, far from helping them, often seem to do more to hinder them.

In “Reflections on life”, Alexis Carrel wrote, “The first duty of society is to give each of its members the possibility of fulfilling his destiny. When it becomes incapable of performing this duty it must be transformed”.

If the above can also be said of higher education, then surely the time for its transformation has come. If universities are to remain relevant and meaningful in the future, and if they are to contribute anything of value to global society as a whole, then there will be no option but to transform. If they do not, then many British universities may become so myopic and backward that they do more to repel talent instead of attracting and developing it.

The warning signs, worryingly, are already there.

I would argue that the notion of a ‘visual’ photograph is actually quite plausible. A ‘photograph’ indicates something tangible; something we cannot experience unless we can hold it and view it. Yet a writer can draw inspiration from thousands of places, people and experiences merely by seeing with the mind.

Perhaps someone lived through an event or period that profoundly shaped their being. Their urge to document those experiences and make sense of them would no doubt be influenced heavily by those ‘visual’ photographs of the mind…

… that which we cannot touch, yet are touched by every moment of our lives.

… then allow me to introduce you to the man who would undoubtedly be one of Britain’s gold medal hopefuls: Keith Vaz, Labour Party politician and Member of Parliament for the Leicester East constituency.

In recent times, Mr Vaz has had rather a high media profile, taking every opportunity to voice his views on subjects as diverse as security concerns ahead of the London 2012 Olympics, passenger queues at Heathrow Airport, the NHS annual report and care objectives, and the allegations of bullying and racist remarks reported to have been made in the latest series of the reality television programme “Big Brother”.

On top of this, the right honourable member for Leicester East has managed to keep his media profile high by making comments on the Rochdale grooming trial, and by publicly stating that he would attend the Anuj Bidve murder trial. And there was his twenty-fifth anniversary in Parliament, celebrated with high profile movie star guests Aishwarya Rai and Abhishek Bachchan. And there was his call for more stringent government controls on violent video games. And of course, his comments on the deportation of Abu Qatada. And his comments on the Babar Ahmad extradition case. And his comments on phone hacking. And his comments on banning junk food.

All of this gives the impression that Vaz’s media profile is akin to an exploding paint factory. Even in the most remote or unlikely corner of the news agenda, there seems to be yet another trace of Vaz splattered all over it. Rather than succumb to the temptation of simply lapsing into a coma in a desperate attempt to block it all out, I instead remembered a piece published on the blog of the comedian and author Alexei Sayle who commented, “My thoughts continue to dwell on Stephen Fry.  If, as I do, you continually flip around the thirty or so Freeview TV channels he can occasionally seem to be on every single one of them.  It’s as if we are living in some capitalist North Korea and he is Kim Jong Fry our glorious leader”. It would appear that even the media colossus that is Kim Jong Fry now has a worthy competitor – of sorts – in the king of the comment Kim Jong Vaz.

Vaz’s apparent lust for media attention was highlighted recently by Marina Hyde in The Guardian, who noted in her article “Why bring Russell Brand to testify to a select committee instead of an expert witness?”, “Any useful idiot even remotely tempted to begin arguing that, as a recovering addict, Brand is a worthy witness is hereby advised to stop being so bally silly. Lost in Showbiz hates to let daylight in on magic, but Brand is not there because of anything he might say. He is there because he will get Vaz and friends on the telly”.

So where could Vaz possibly pop up next? Perhaps he will be seen telling everyone the live odds on the Bet365 adverts. Or maybe he will insist on being ‘Photoshopped’ into various photographs in the style of the series of John Terry spoofs.

Or perhaps we’ll see him on the winners’ podium proudly collecting his gold medal in bandwagon jumping. At present, few deserve it more.

Quite by chance, I happened to find rather an interesting article in the 26th June 2012 edition of the Metro newspaper in the United Kingdom. It was in the “60 Seconds” section, and featured a short question and answer session with the actor Noel Clarke, star of the professional sprinting film ‘Fast Girls’. One particular question – and its accompanying answer – caught my attention:

Q: You were banned from using the word Olympics in Fast Girls – isn’t that a bit ridiculous?

A: It’s a corporate word with connotations and we weren’t allowed to use it. The film’s still out. It’s not a big deal but it was a shame.

Arguably even more thought-provoking than the use of the word ‘Olympics’ being prohibited is that Clarke should have described it as “a corporate word with connotations”. It is interesting that an institution supposedly symbolising the spirit of human endeavour should be described in such dehumanised terms. One wonders then what the connotations of the word ‘Olympics’ really are, and indeed those of the Games as a whole. On the surface, this may not seem so important, yet it can have massive implications both for the Olympics brand and for the manner in which consumers perceive it.

Of course, such connotations would only represent a level of meaning personal to each individual. Nevertheless, it seems unlikely that they would be positive if informed by comments such as those above, or indeed by the comments from Clarke in The Huffington Post on 7th June 2012. Worse still if people read through Ira Boudway’s striking Bloomberg Businessweek article “Don’t mess with the Lord of the Olympic rings” from 14th June 2012.

Catherine Lloyd-Evans in The Law Donut drew attention to a fairly lengthy list of restricted terms and phrases associated with the Olympics. When used as a background for Boudway’s article, one is left with the impression of the Olympics being about bullying, browbeating, and measures which appear to do more to honour the severity of Draco than the spirit of inclusion. In a desperate attempt to appease corporate partners, and to eliminate any trace of guerilla marketing, the International Olympic Committee have likely done more to damage the Olympic brand than to protect and develop it. Since it would appear that any unauthorised use of Olympic branding or imagery is forbidden, I chose as a partnering image for this article the portrait of Louis XIV and his family as Olympian Gods by Jean Nocret. I look upon Nocret’s portrait as something genuine; a true achievement which can be admired and enjoyed by all irrespective of wealth or status. Regrettably, I sincerely doubt that the Olympics could lay claim to the same virtues.

Thus, what of the real meaning of the Olympics? Are the Olympics still about striving for glory, of victory in the face of impossible odds? Or have the Olympics simply been reduced to a euphemism for greed, disproportionate power and the ruthless pursuit of money-making?

Perhaps more can be learned from connotations than we might have imagined.

It was a peculiar – though perhaps unsurprising – decision by the Pakistani authorities to block access to Twitter owing to what the BBC reported were tweets regarded as “offensive to Islam”. Of far greater surprise though was the decision by the Pakistan Telecommunications Authority (PTA) to then lift the ban on Sunday May 20th, approximately eight hours after it had been imposed. This story was covered by various media throughout the day, with the following report by NewsX being one amongst many:

Globally, the blocking of Twitter in Pakistan is likely to be regarded as a ‘tech’ or media story. In truth, this is a story that goes far beyond those confines. The real story here is not of Twitter being blocked, but of the citizens of Pakistan being failed yet again by narrow-minded and myopic governance. In many instances, those citizens can make themselves meaningfully heard in no arena other than Twitter and other social media like it. That any government should childishly ban such media is indicative of weakness, not strength.

It should not be beyond any modern society to come together in reasoned, balanced discussion of even the most controversial issues. Moreover, difference of opinion should not be considered as something to run away from. I agree that there are many instances of appalling abuse being directed at people through social media, and these incidents have often, wrongly, been met with general indifference. However, merely having a difference of opinion does not constitute abuse, nor indeed does daring to say something which goes against the hegemony that exists within a territory.

It is very easy for the authorities in Pakistan to block Twitter, but it is far harder to block people. Technologies will come and go, but people will always find new and innovative ways of communicating, and of sharing information and perspectives with each other. Politicians of all countries would do well to keep that in mind.

Aside from being a highly talented journalist and presenter, Carrie Gracie is an example to everyone that cancer can indeed be beaten. I joyfully congratulate her on her return, and wish her the very best in all her future endeavours.

It was with considerable interest that I recently watched Private Eye editor Ian Hislop give evidence to the Leveson Inquiry. In some regards, I found it particularly striking when he made the point that journalism was a noble craft that shouldn’t be given away for free.

As much as, in theory, I do not disagree with that point, I cannot help feeling that for people such as Hislop, or indeed for Lionel Barber of the Financial Times, it is easy to adopt that position. Both individuals head publications that are specialist in nature, and thus can afford to charge for the content they provide.

However for other publications, particularly daily newspapers, Hislop’s assertion becomes far harder to achieve. On an individual basis, newspapers may well argue the merits of the works of their journalists over those from other publications as a key selling point. Yet, with the greatest respect, it may not always be the case that there is such a strong desire to buy newspapers simply to read the output of certain journalists. Reporting of the Leveson Inquiry is a case in point. With so much information available from such a wide variety of sources across different media, why should people pay for reports on the Leveson Inquiry when they can access them for free?

There is no doubt in my mind that good journalism is indeed a noble craft worth paying for. In spite of this though, consumers have rapidly acquired a taste for that which is free. In the months and years to come, getting consumers to pay for that noble craft will only get harder and harder.

I was interested to read an article posted by Yahoo titled “Most pirated movie ever revealed”. In it, the 2009 Hollywood film Avatar is considered by one source to be “the most pirated film of all time”. Or, at least, to date.

I think what I found most striking about the piece was the use of the word “pirated”. That something should be pirated carries a deeply negative connotation. Generally, I would have considered something pirated to either be illegally filmed in a cinema auditorium and then sold on, or, download and then sold on.

File sharing on the other hand, is something quite apart from the aforementioned. That which is downloaded for one’s own use with no intention of resulting financial gain is completely different to something that, knowingly, is being illegally sold in a flea market or locations other.

Moreover, the notion that file sharing is an industry crippler is absurd, particularly when within the same Yahoo article it was stated that Avatar had worldwide box-office takings of £1.77 billion, in spite of TorrentFreak claiming it was downloaded twenty-one million times.

Whatever your view on file sharing may be, one thing does appear to be clear: there has never been anywhere near the kind of debate that this situation warrants. Nor have corporations attempted to address these issues by engaging in any kind of meaningful discussion with consumers, who after all are the people keeping these companies afloat. For now at least.

Some weeks ago I was looking at a blog concerned with marketing. I read through a few articles, and they appeared to make relative sense, but the subsequent articles seemed to move to more sexual themes. I don’t see anything wrong with this – erotic stories attract a lot of attention online, and like a great volume of literature, they are probably highly cathartic for those writing them. At that time though, when I was looking for perspectives on marketing, it really wasn’t a treat to get stories about what the author wanted to do with someone in a club.

I started thinking, was it ethical for the blogger in question to fashion their blog in a certain mould then go completely off topic? Alternatively, was it the right of the blogger to do whatever they wanted with their blog? Using my own platform as an example, I set out at the very beginning what it was seeking to look at, and ultimately what I was going to write about. This means that when I am fortunate enough to have visitors, be they by choice or accident, they are aware of the parameters that my writing is set within.

Too often though, I find that a great many blogs either fail to define their own parameters, or define them then ignore them. There have been a number of occasions where I have found people posting reasonably sensible pieces at one time, then at another posting entries making truly rancid comments about people on the basis of their gender, skin tone, sexuality, nationality, or faith. I have wondered, and indeed failed to understand, how people can make a lot of sense in one posting, then follow those words with remarks so hurtful and disparaging.

This lack of discipline and ethical underpinning is hugely troublesome, and totally undermines the credibility of bloggers around the world, the majority of whom make fantastic contributions to the blogosphere. Arguably, the recent scandal involving blogger Tom MacMaster, author of “A Gay Girl in Damascus”, highlights perfectly my assertion concerning the need to tread carefully – and ethically – when blogging. MacMaster adopted the nom de plume Amina Abdallah Arraf al Omari, supposedly a homosexual living in Syria, and wrote very sincerely over time about Amina’s thoughts and feelings. As far as anyone knew, Amina was entirely real. The blog ultimately became enormously popular, all the more so when news was broken of MacMaster’s ‘Amina’ character being abducted in Syria. This news was posted on the blog by the fictitious Amina’s equally fictitious cousin, ‘Rania Ismail’, another pseudonym of MacMaster’s.

People were understandably angry and upset when they discovered that Amina, a girl that many cared greatly for, was never real at all. Things looked even worse for MacMaster when it transpired that the photo of Amina was actually stolen from someone who was a real person. The sad thing is that had the author of “A Gay Girl in Damascus” declared from the beginning that the blog was a work of fiction, there is no reason why it could not have been popular in any case. Fiction often serves as a wonderful platform for people to come together, enjoy the imaginary, and even unite as an incubator for positive ideas that can change reality. Importantly though, this can only work when everyone is aware that everything they are reading is fictitious. As is evident with the MacMaster episode, it can go horribly wrong when such words masquerade as fact.

Thus we come full circle, back to the issue of discipline and ethics. As bloggers, our freedom to make our voices heard and our words read should never come under question or threat. However, we must always keep in mind the consequences of our words. We mustn’t use blogs as loud hailers for prejudice, for the adoption of a moral high ground over others, or indeed to trick or deceive our readers. There will always be differences in opinion, and this is a natural and healthy feature of respectful, meaningful debate, but we must always try to ensure that our thoughts and our words bring the world closer to us rather than pushing it further away.

It is wise to remember also that one person’s ethics can often be another person’s sins. It would be easy for me from a communications perspective to show print ads on my blog by, for example, PETA, Greenpeace or Benetton. I might very well argue that, for me, this is adopting an ethical position in relation to a particular cluster of issues. For others though, the imagery often found in such campaigns might be considered coarse, immoral, and against various religious values. This fact recognises that we are but human, and we will make blunders as we try to convey our views, and undoubtedly we will cause offence even when we don’t mean to. An honest mistake is one thing, but to deliberately post something making someone feel low or less of a person is quite another. It is far from easy, but we must always remember that it is not simply eyes that read our words, but hearts and minds as well.