'Murdoch betrays everyone in the end'

My guard goes up when people in power say that they believe in investigative journalism. Everybody says they do, of course. Then everyone says they have a sense of humour, most especially when they don’t. Just as I doubt the merriment of someone who needs to announce, ‘I enjoy a joke as much as the next man,’ so I worry about politicians and bureaucrats who make perfunctory commitments to serious journalism.

Look around and you will see that their deeds belie their words. Almost without anyone noticing, a great silence is falling over the British state. Civil servants, police and prison officers are shutting up as they realise the dangers of talking to journalists are too perilous to risk.

A good thing too, you may mutter, if silence will stop allegations that police officers stitched up the chief whip or sold a celebrity’s minor transgressions to the peeping toms of the tabloids. But think before you cheer on repression. An old and worthwhile protection for liberal societies is vanishing in the aftermath of the hacking scandal, without the traditional guardians of liberalism giving a damn.

The requirement to protect your sources was the one moral principle journalists had. Self-interest played its part — confidential sources will not speak to reporters if they suspect they will reveal their identities to the police or their employers. But a reporter’s honour mattered as much. You had made a deal with a source. You had given your promise and shaken hands. Your source could lose his or her job or liberty if you broke your word. You had to keep it.