Tag Archives: hacking

Leveson

THE Leveson Inquiry is uncomfortable viewing for many in the trade who are even now attempting to rubbish or pour scorn on the evidence of those directly affected by media intrusion.

There has been much made of celebrities lining up to baseball bat the tabloids, like that scene in Airplane when they form an orderly queue to take a pop at the hysterical woman.

Who tests this evidence at the inquiry? How can it be relied upon without cross-examination? Where is the letter JK Rowling suggested was slipped into her daughter’s schoolbag?

The Inquiry has succeeded in making me squirm in my seat on a daily basis, reminding me of  the times I sat outside homes where I had little or no right to do so.

Most of the time I was waiting for the bad guy to appear, but not all of the time. Sometimes I was waiting for Joe Public, who was guilty of nothing more than being “newsworthy” at that particular snapshot in time.  More often than not, I sat waiting for some Z-list celebrity or footballer to emerge from a club, home, or mistress’s arms.

Door-stepping is something all journalists do, not just the tabloids. Broadcast media, broadsheets and tabs together, engage in it. There’s a reason why Leveson is so populated by celebrities. We gave them the ammo, and now they’re firing it.

From the mid- 90′s on,  as celebrity mania gripped TV executives and very quickly thereafter infected newspaper executives and editors, our collective news focus began to shift.

When newspaper executives realised they could fill their pages cheaply by simply re-running what had been on last night’s telly and by targeting celebrities, we were well on the road to the Leveson Inquiry.

Celebrity was always thus, from the beginnings of film and newspapers. Agreed. But in the modern, instant age this obsession with reality TV shows, Big Brother and I’m A Celebrity, all sounded the death knell for proper tabloid journalism.

You may believe no such thing exists. It did, before costs and “easy hits” became the order of the day.

On a Sunday paper it was not unusual to see the first five pages filled with what had been on telly the night before. I never understood the logic of this and I believe it to be one of the main reasons newspapers started to lose readers.

If you decided to watch Big Brother on a Saturday night, fine. Why then would you want to be reminded of it in the next day’s paper? If you chose not to watch, seeing it in the next day’s paper would only annoy you and you might decide not to buy that paper again. It was a lose/lose scenario for papers. But it was cheap.

It filled news pages that would otherwise need to be filled by paid-for content, actual news stories that journalists had worked on and written up. Stories of import, that meant something to the readers.

If you look back through the archives this is abundantly clear in most of the red tops. They all have a rich and powerful cuttings catalogue of incredible stories exposing cheating politicians, government cover ups and hypocrisy. They shone a light into dark corners. That’s what newspapers should do.

The people who control the tabloid news industry in this country have been squeezing the life out of newsrooms for over 15 years. Fewer staff, less time to work on stories, “easy hits” and “take it off the telly.” On any given night in a red-top newsroom someone will be sitting watching the telly noting down the latest celeb drivel, before writing it all up for the next day’s paper.

As the years went by and sales plummeted, editors were being constantly told celebrities were what people wanted to read about. They were told this by marketing people who worded reader surveys that bore no relation to reality.  I remember one such survey where marketeers asked readers if our paper was  a car what car would it be? We were informed it was  a Ford Escort with a saltire on the roof.

This was supposed to describe an everyday upper working class newspaper for the people by the people with a particular interest in Scotland and its affairs. It was evident in the think tank meeting that it had been wholly created by the marketeer who presented it. These were the same marketeers who regularly reported back that “the people” wanted to read about celebrities. The more the merrier. Meanwhile sales plummeted.

That too was addressed. “It’s the industry as a whole, we’re in decline yes, but we’re not falling as fast as that other news group, and that’s because we give them celebrity stories.”

That’s what editors were dealing with and buying into.  These same people insisted over a number of years, and still do, that celebrity lives and gossip is what people want in their newspapers. I disagree. So do all the people who stopped buying the papers. There was a failure to connect, or more properly disconnect,  the two.

Instant media has of course played its part in the demise of newspapers, but you don’t find many exclusives on the web. Not yet, anyway. A good newspaper in this modern world will survive by printing exclusives, not teetle-tattle. The lesson has been there to be learned for some time, but now there is no money available to realise it.

In Scotland, people want stories that have not been told before. They want to know about social issues in our country and they want to know that the paper they buy is looking out for “the man” in the street.

They want a  paper that takes governments and businesses to task if they act outwith their powers, and most of all they want a voice. That voice went hoarse when editors began filling their pages with the pap of a thousand reality shows.

From these beginnings came the celebrity interview, the celebrity being sent on holiday to write a review, the celebrity test driving cars, the celebrity advising on all manner of issues. The same celebrity who has no resonance whatever with the man or woman in the street reading the article.

One paper sacked a doctor who had been writing a column for over 30 years and replaced him with a TV “doc” nobody had heard of. Celebrity was now a virus spreading throughout column inches and managing to replicate itself in every aspect of a newspaper, from politics right through to sport.

This led us to where we are today, I believe. As the pressure mounted to get stories on celebrities, so did the clandestine tools which were employed to achieve these results.

From the mid-90′s on, celebs both minor and major were targeted by newspapers. Phones, emails, lovers, ex-lovers, anything and everything to fill the pages. And as tabloids became more reliant on celebrity driven news they became less reliant on the laws surrounding obtaining it.

These execs also realised that by asking private detectives to acquire the information they needed for the story, they could shorten the time it took to obtain the tale. Faster turnaround meant less expense and, ultimately, fewer staff.

Make no mistake, this was an executive driven move. Do you really believe that a small cabal of “lonewolf” bent hacks decided of their own volition to begin breaking the law, across a number of titles, independent of each other?

The incessant pressure to supply celebrity copy led some journalists to break the law, of that there is no doubt. The all-consuming mantra of the red tops, “you’re only as good as your last story”, is one that rings true on so many levels.

The problem here, is that when you enter into that mindset, it means last week’s story, and the means by which you obtained it, are forgotten by the start of a fresh week, when you have a new fresh page to fill. It’s an easy mindset to enter, and a difficult one to shake off.

There are journalists all over the country decrying some of the evidence given at Leveson as being one-sided and without rebuttal or proper cross-examination. They are living in a bubble that is about to burst, with spectacular consequences.

I understand the Leveson Inquiry is hamstrung by the police investigation running at the same time. It is a pity more cannot be done by way of cross-examining witnesses, especially the evidence given by JK Rowling about a letter being slipped by a journalist into her daughter’s schoolbag. Her telling of it was the first I’ve ever heard of it, which is very unusual in such a small community, where these stories invariably leak out with the passing of time.

But they are living in a bubble because within a year from now at least five people will be in jail for all of this. I limit that number because I feel that politically a lid will be put on it. Were there no politics at play in this crisis for the press I reckon at least a dozen journalists could easily face conviction south of the border alone.

Leveson also heard from ordinary people affected by the casual callousness of the press, alongside the celebrities sharing their concerns. Who got more coverage? So what lessons have been learned?

I believe Leveson, the police inquiries and the overarching scandal facing the media at this time can be traced back to the pursuit of celebrity driven exclusives and the immersion in celebrity culture of our tabloid press. Stories at all costs.

The saddest aspect of all of this is that nobody wanted to read these “exclusives.”  They meant little and changed even less.

ends


Amy Winehouse Was Hacked

 

Exclusive

 

THE phones and medical records of singer Amy Winehouse were “routinely”accessed by tabloid newspapers.

Winehouse was found dead inside her north London apartment yesterday. She was 27.

Her short but electrifying musical career earned her a catalogue of worldwide awards,  including five Grammies. That fame brought rewards, and vices.

Winehouse was a sensation. The sensation brought world attention. The attention made her a regular target of hacking and illegal data access  by tabloid reporters keen to splash an exclusive.

Her father Mitch, mother Janis and on-off lover Blake Fielder-Civil, the man whose name she had tattooed over her heart, were also directly targeted in the tabloid battle to get a scoop. Her brother Alex was also a victim. His phones and personal data were also scanned to establish connections and potential stories.

Details of her stays in rehab  were also obtained, and included timings  of when she was expected to arrive at clinics so photographers could be in place. The same details were either sold or accessed so she could be photographed leaving after treatment. Her time inside these clinics was also widely reported.

A source said: “Privacy was the last thing she was going to get. She was at one point the world’s number one singer. She blew people away with her voice, all over the world.  The press knew where she would be, who would be there, what time, at any given time.

“They were able to be there too, to befriend her and actively encourage her, as if they had arrived by chance. That made better copy and, more importantly, better photos for the snappers  both inside and waiting outside.

“Not that she needed any encouragement, but it was there if she wanted it.

“Take a look at the acres of coverage of her getting out of taxicabs and walking into rehab. Or walking out of rehab into cabs. How did that happen? Or the details of her time in rehab, her private life.  A lot of the time some people close to her sold the info, but her data was accessed on a routine, wholesale basis. And not just by one newspaper group, by most of them.

“A lot of showbiz journalists started covering tracks with the news of  her death.”

Police, while confirming Amy’s body had been found in her North London flat, cautioned against newspaper assumptions of an overdose.

More follows…

ends


A Necessary Evil?

 

In the days before the world wide web and instant news journalists on a local beat got the news of the day by physically going to the police station and sitting down to a cup of tea with the duty officer, who  would arrive armed with the incident log, a sanitised, neatly typed version of the previous night’s mayhem.

Admittedly, some reporters used the phone to obtain this. I always preferred to wander in for a chat. I felt it always got me that wee bit more.

What it certainly got me was “face time” with high ranking cops who were happy to help if they saw me at some later date on a job they were also attending. That’s what you did. It’s how you grew your contacts book as a young reporter and it’s how most reporters over 40 would have begun their careers.

There was a relationship there, between the press and the police. The reporter is acting on behalf of members of the public who don’t have time to go and seek out the news from their area. You do the legwork, publish the news that’s fit to print, and they reward your efforts by buying the paper. Simple enough.

Some of those relationships evolved into contacts, some did not. Over two decades in hard news reporting I’ve had police contacts. Lots of them. Any decent journalist has them. And any decent cop has journalist contacts. But something changed.

It was a centralising process, I suppose, somewhere around the early 90′s.

You could no longer walk into the cop shop for a cuppa. They no longer appreciated a free bundle of first editions at the counter. You had to “go through the press office.”  Barriers went up.

The news that was being fed down the line was no longer what had actually happened the night before, it was what they wanted you to know about. Press managers and forces began to control the flow of information. In that event any journalist worth a candle should be trying to obtain the real news at any cost.

That’s where police sources come in. The officers who are not on-message. The ones who will give you the unedited information, especially if it concerns corruption or failings within a particular force. What press office is going to hand that over?

Add to that the FOI machinery now in place across the UK. A police press office unhappy at handing over damaging statistics or information will almost always ask you to make an FOI request. This can delay having to answer by over a year, in real terms.

Bona fide news gathering journalists have been fobbed off with this in recent years. I know it has happened to me on a number of occasions. We are now in the position where calling these press offices is almost a waste of time, apart from obtaining the anodyne and humdrum.

You may not realise it, or if you do you may not like it, but these relationships are a necessary evil. Without them we wouldn’t know what’s really going on. Some of the officers involved may take money for their services, but in the main they do not.

You may well say the ones who do are corrupt, but they have families, pensions and mortgages to balance against the risk of telling journalists about things that matter.  I know journalists have paid police officers for information. That should come as no surprise.

But what about the senior officers who turn up in a pub to meet a journalist, get free drinks all night, a four course meal, and wander home with four free tickets to the races in their pockets. Are they as corrupt?  They’ve simply taken their payment in kind. No paperwork.

Or the senior officers who use journalists to brief against each other. A Deputy who sticks the knife in the chief through a friendly reporter will hope to be elevated to that chief’s position. There is a financial gain there. Corrupt? Or politics?

And if you’re looking for corruption, how about the lodge meetings across Scotland where very senior police officers, judges and journalists all share information within the four walls of a lodge? That’s to their mutual benefit, is it not?

Strathclyde Police has been tasked by the Crown Office to investigate Scotland’s civic life, effectively, but I’m told this probe will focus simply on links between Lothian & Borders officers involved in the Tommy Sheridan case and journalists from News International.

I’m also told Strathclyde Chief Constable Stephen House is keen it stays on that track. He has watched two of the Metropolitan Police’s most senior officers walk the plank over corruption and hacking. He has told senior officers his force’s probe will not repeat their mistakes.

Meanwhile across the country senior officers at L&B are furious, I’m told, that their “weegie” counterparts will be examining their roles and relationships. Historically the Lothian force has had the better reputation.

House  knows better than most, given recent events in London,  the price to be paid for an incomplete inquiry. He has been handed something of a poisoned chalice. Damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. The prospect of a return to the Big Smoke, where a couple of vacancies have recently opened up,  must seem appealing at the moment.

If there is to be a proper corruption probe in Scotland it should not  be run by Strathclyde Police. First Minister Alex Salmond should build an independent task force, with the power to take witness statements on oath. That is the only way we can ensure a full, proper investigation into perjury, corruption, collusion and hacking in Scotland.

ends


Coulson for Court

exclusive

by Charles Lavery

Andy Coulson WILL  face perjury charges in  a Scottish court.

The former News of the World executive and press adviser to Prime Minister David Cameron has been told he will face court in Scotland over statements he made under oath during the Tommy Sheridan trial.

He met Scots QC Paul McBride at the Matrix legal chambers in London last week.  That meeting came after  a series of telephone calls between McBride, Coulson, and senior members of the Conservative Party.

McBride has been helping the Conservatives shape their legal policies for some time and is on first name terms with some of the party’s most senior figures in Scotland and London.

Coulson has been told to prepare himself  for charges. Legal restrictions prevent further reporting at this time.

More follows

ends


Southern Investigations and Jonathan Rees

New revelations over journalists’ illegal payments – Press Gazette.


Cops And Bloggers. An Update.

Police operation code names are randomly generated by computer.

The computer programme, synced across all UK forces, throws out a name based on an A-Z  list so that no two ongoing operations in the country have the same code name at the same time.

For some reason the list favours the classics, like it was propagated by Inspector Morse.

You would think, with such attention to detail, that our police service thinks of everything.

It does not.

Operation Merlin, as the computer labelled it, was one of the most expensive investigations in the history of Strathclyde Police. It was a probe into the police corruption Paul McMullan spoke about at the Leveson Inquiry and targeted journalists who allegedly paid serving police officers for stories. It achieved nothing, apart from the promotion of several officers involved in it, and cost over £1 million.

The only police officer taken to court at the end of this mammoth probe walked free after two days of Crown evidence with a no case to answer.  The reason?  There was no evidence. Yesterday, he wrote to Leveson to offer his experience to the Inquiry. It is quite a story.

He was targeted while newspaper executives who signed cheques, not to the officer in question, struck deals behind the scenes. Evidence was withheld and senior newspaper industry executives colluded with senior police officers to avoid adverse publicity for the particular news group in question.

The journalist involved in this inquiry has recently been doorstepped by officers of the Counter Corruption Unit of Strathclyde Police, the new name for the Professional Standards Unit. They were apparently investigating a complaint by the now retired police officer into allegations of collusion and corruption… by their own unit.  They were given short change.  A police force allowed to investigate its own officers and units is a police force open to accusation.

Here’s why Operation Merlin failed: intelligence…they “sexed up” the dossier. Every police force has what’s called a Professional Standards Unit nowadays. It’s a concept that started in the Met in the 90′s. At that time the Met was so riven with corruption they established a secret unit to deal with it.

That model was rolled out across all UK forces. An integral part of that model was tackling press liaison. Controlling the message. A couple of Guardian writers risked their careers to write this excellent take on the whole affair and the genesis of the Professional Standards Units across the UK forces:

http://amzn.to/rdS3L9

To cut a long and interesting story short, the Met established a “ghost squad” of officers who kept tabs on their colleagues. It worked. Dozens of corrupt cops were exposed, prosecuted and drummed out of the force. Such was the success it became a blueprint. Cops love blueprints.

Part of that blueprint was to identify, target and eliminate any un-sanctioned dealings with the press. Strathclyde, among other forces in Scotland, stuck to the blueprint. Between 2002 and 2007 they conducted an operation called Merlin. On a whiteboard in a room at Pitt St HQ, the same  room the Lockerbie Inquiry had been managed from, were the coded images for  a number of individuals.

They didn’t have names, they had tags. Two officers targeted were identified on the board by their ranks, the insignia of a sergeant and that of a constable. Journalists were portrayed on the board by the masthead of their newspaper, and various other connections, like taxi drivers, were denoted by a black cab orange hailing light. This was the Professional Standards Unit (PSU) hothouse, and it was kept under lock and key.

The end result of this was five men being  turned out of their beds at 7am during a concerted, coordinated series of raids organised by the PSU. Two serving police officers, two taxi drivers and a civilian. The white board and all its symbols had thrown up the answers, or so they thought.

Years of intelligence gathering had led them to the raids.  Their inquiry had lasted four years. It took a further two years to take it court. One serving constable appeared at court and after two days of crown evidence walked free when the judge ruled he had no case to answer.

One of the  journalists targeted had his home swept for bugs twice. His office and all communication devices were also checked.  He was placed under surveillance for months by the Central Surveillance Unit of Strathclyde Police. Detailed logs noted who he met, spoke to, and where he went. His telephone conversations were monitored, and still are.

It led to a furious bust up between the PSU and the CSU, or Central Surveillance Unit, who eventually refused to follow a journalist around town when their resources could be better used. Drug dealers were making money and they were otherwise engaged.

The journalist in question was pulled in by his bosses at the time and sent to meet the company lawyer. That lawyer tried to force the reporter into signing  a sworn statement that would have ensured his sources would have gone to jail.  He refused. Back channel chats were in play. The journalist was told he would be given a £5000 fine which the company would pay and be convicted of a Data Protection breach. The sources, serving police officers, would be going to jail.

The newspaper offices were raided at this time  and paperwork related to payments were confiscated by police. They took with them logs of payments made to a civilian with links to serving police officers. But their intelligence was deeply flawed. They had acquired surveillance warrants on the journalist, signed by then First Minister Jack McConnell, on the basis of capital crime allegations. They had “sexed up” the dossier, and one journalist in particular found himself accused in intelligence files of running brothels and hookers, being an active member of the IRA and having firm knowledge of a series of murders. He also, apparently, had timeshare villas in Asia,  bought from the proceeds of crime, that had been wiped out in the Tsunami.

None of this was true. A registered informant had provided the information. Registered informants are what police officers use to obtain surveillance orders. Most of the time they are genuine. Sometimes they are not. When police officers need to sex up a request for surveillance, a registered informant, a trusty, comes into play. The shockingly poor intelligence gathered in Merlin led to the dire outcome of the four-year long probe: one constable brought to court and released on a no case to answer after two days of Crown evidence.

But it raises questions in the wake of the NotW scandal, and as the  Leveson Inquiry rumbles on.

Uncomfortable questions.

Media groups routinely paying cops for information. Strathclyde Police, along with Lothian & Borders and various other forces, know this.  There is a “scoping exercise” ongoing at the moment, led  by Strathclyde Police, into the allegations surfacing south of the border. There is also talk of senior executives at papers north of the border being interviewed by police. Executives, I know, have been burning out shredders. In the wake of Paul McMullan’s evidence, they are awaiting the knock on the door. Whether it will ever come is another question, so deeply intertwined are our news groups and police forces.

It is a little known fact that one of the most senior officers in the Merlin inquiry was also one of the biggest culprits. He even alerted journalists to the fact that the inquiry was underway. That is the scale of it. That same officer accepted free drinks and race meeting tickets in the pub, surrounded by journalists.

The PSU at Strathclyde Police selected a journalist from the Scottish media who regularly gave them a bloody nose in the press and directed hundreds of thousands of pounds of resources into surveillance and evidence gathering. That was what the blueprint said they should do, and they stuck to it. But no newspaper executives had sleepless nights over it.

There was never any suggestion that  an editor, whose signature was on the cheques, might be the focus of a police probe. Or a chief executive. That had been squared away, after the editor in question gave a statement to the cops and allowed them into the building to gather evidence of payments, without a warrant. Again, the back channel chats came into play. It was police corruption, but not one executive was interviewed under caution. The same rules seem to apply in London, if McMullan is to be believed. I have no reason to doubt him. His evident fragile state at the hearing belies the fact that he wrote 300 stories for the News of the World and never lost a single court case.

There is a link in Scotland between the police, a leading law firm I cannot name in this piece and newspaper editors. It is an unhealthy “back channel” arrangement that does nothing for journalism and everything for those involved in it. I shall write more of it later, with examples of its influence, but suffice to say it controls, moderates and stymies proper journalism in this country. The same is evidently true south of the border.

Newspapers paid, and pay, police officers for information. The one and only prosecution for this, Operation Merlin, ended in farce. The acquitted officer walked through Glasgow Sheriff Court after the case against him collapsed wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words: “No Case To Answer - The Fiscal’s A Chancer.”

He got that slightly wrong. It was the newly promoted officers behind Operation Merlin, reported to be the most expensive operation in the history of Strathclyde Police, who were the chancers.

ends
//


Setting Fire To The Pyre

 

There’s something not quite right about the News of the World closure.

Too fast, too soon.

Rupert Murdoch has played his endgame first. The result today  is a “Thank You & Goodbye” headline and a “banging out”  by a solitary editor of a staff dedicated to their paper, regardless of what you think about its stance or readership.

I’ve witnessed bangings out from newsrooms. They are highly charged and emotional affairs. Whatever makes a noise is banged against hard surfaces as the person leaving takes the long walk to pastures new. It’s a throwback to the old print days when the metal type would be banged in its tray as a mark of respect to a departing  colleague.

But it’s usually a solitary figure doing the walking, not an entire workforce.

The emotion would  have charged the very air around the  journalists as they watched their editor continue a long held tradition for the very last time, alone.

The decision to close a profitable market leader in the space of three days can only mean one thing:  there are dark days ahead.

Hacking on an industrial scale. If you want to know who was hacked start with Who’s Who and move on to the list of all government ministers.  Then the Royal household, senior cops, celebrities of course, and sportspeople.

But we know that.

The real problem here for the Murdoch empire, together with David Cameron and the Met,  is  the police officers paid for their information. Their names are already known, as are the myriad of journalists who used the services of the three private detectives already dealt with or interviewed by police. Corruption on a scale never before seen.

And a 63-year-old private eye called Steve Whittamore is a major link in  this chain of evidence.

A chain that could leave former NOTW editor and Cameron spin doctor Andy Coulson in court.  A chain that will at some point in the very near future see Les Hinton, former chief executive at NOTW and now in charge of Dow Jones, the company that owns The Wall St Journal, interviewed by police.

Mr Hinton will be asked to verify he signed off on the payments. He was Coulson’s boss at that time.  Whether he knew who was being paid  is a matter for the investigators to decide. I suspect not.

The investigating team from the Met will by now have paired payments to stories. It takes a long time to do this. Cops are not paid directly. A brother, some in-law with a different surname, and a false reason for payment entered into the newspaper’s accounting log can muddy the trail.

But police officers look for patterns. So if Detective Sergeant Smith’s (made up name) sister was paid £5000 on July 1st what stories privy to confidential information were published in the month before that payment? Soon the jigsaw completes itself and a pattern emerges. Link this with calls and contact between two parties and you begin to build a picture.

Mr Whittamore,  believed to have been arrested yesterday along with Andy Coulson, believes he was Oliver to the newspaper industry’s Fagin. His position is best described here:

http://t.co/3TOeUQb

If we focus on Scotland for a moment we can safely assume high profile footballers from the Old Firm were the targets of  hacking. Tommy Sheridan? Almost certainly. In fact, most Scottish celebrities, actors, senior politicians and business leaders. But not just by the News of the World.

Make no mistake. We are talking here about a J. Edgar Hoover style approach. The paranoid American with a file on everyone could not hold a candle to Murdoch in this web driven age.  Why else would politicians court him so? But his reporters didn’t have exclusive access. Many others, yet to be revealed, obtained the same data.

But when a man is caught in possession of a large hoard of information he should not have, with the authorities able to match it and join the dots, he has no option but to set fire to the pyre. Goodbye News of  the World.

He hopes this will be enough. So does Prime Minister David Cameron.

It won’t be, and as the real victims of this story emerge over the coming weeks Cameron, the Murdoch empire and the Metropolitan Police, Whitehall 1212, will see their back-channel relationships exposed and vilified.

The breathtaking speed of  the closure raises questions. Will the other newspaper groups about to be targeted for the very same thing react in a similar fashion? Will Trinity Mirror close down the Sunday Mirror? Will Associated close the Mail on Sunday? They were the worst offenders after all, beating the News of the World by some distance in terms of information obtained from private eyes.

There is a document you should read. It is now a mind boggling document. When it was first published it simply raised a few eyebrows within the trade and was largely forgotten about. That in itself, as the esteemed author points out, is very strange indeed, given its findings.

In the spirit of data journalism I give you the link to the report with no comment. It is worth the read.

And remember:  a lot of simply brilliant  investigative  journalists were put out to pasture today. How can that be a good thing?

http://t.co/Hy7Bu8k

ends


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,835 other followers