A duchess may be in disgrace, but journalism is also debased

THE veteran Australian-born journalist Phillip Knightley knows a thing or two about propriety. His engrossing account of the history of the war correspondent, The First Casualty, might consign truth into the No. 1 slot, but sneaking up in second place is objectivity. This is falling foul of a more insidious characteristic of journalism: subterfuge.

The undercover reporter has, of late, made a casualty of respectable journalism. Not killing it off entirely, but inflicting severe and lasting wounds that will require more than a field dressing to staunch. This week's revelations of the Duchess of York's avariciousness by News of the World investigations editor Mazher Mahmood is certainly injurious to a royal reputation already blighted by toe-sucking, chat-show hosting and weight-loss spruiking all of which can be taken in context as coarse, perhaps even common.

The duchess's latest adventures, however, are beyond the pale. When you are caught on video offering to provide access to your former husband in return for an ample supply of what Arthur Daley used to call "readies", and when you subsequently make off with a down payment of nearly $US40,000 cash, with the promise of about $US700,000 more . . . well, you have been caught ready-handed and must suffer the consequences.

Things are compounded when your former husband happens to be a British trade envoy as well as the monarch's third-born and fourth in line to the throne the inevitable reprisals for this astonishing breach of trust, let alone embarrassment, to Prince Andrew might bring Sarah Ferguson relief in only one respect that she lives in the 21st century and not the age of the ducking stool or stocks, or exile to a shepherd's hut on the Isle of Man. Those doors she promised to open will now be slammed in her face.

Yet, I have reservations not so much concerning the duchess's hapless, hopeless attempts at financial survival, but the manner of her unmasking. If this had been a sting organised by the fraud squad, one to which the News of the World had been invited to witness, there would be no further questions, your honour. Slightly grubby, maybe, but still professionally and ethically above board.

But this was more than grubby: as Knightley asked in The Independent, was it good undercover reporting, "or a shameful example of invasion of privacy, entrapment and shoddy, lazy journalism?"

The latter, I would say a prime example of all of the above, aided and abetted by the curious, spectral figure of Mazher Mahmood. His methodology, of extracting his scoops via deception and disguise, makes him the male version of Polythene Pam, on the Beatles' Abbey Road: "She's killer diller when she's dressed to the hilt, She's the kind of a girl that makes the News of the World."

Mahmood is known as "the fake Sheikh" because of his fondness for the burnous as the costume of choice to ensnare the unwitting and unwary. Interestingly, for a journalist whose livelihood depends on bringing down public figures, Mahmood is himself reticent about being in the public eye,

at least in terms of his own imagery. His contract stipulates that his photograph will never be published in the News of the World. Indeed, while the photographs of the duchess show her in full, unmistakeable detail, Mahmood's face is pixelated, almost as if he is the guilty party who cannot be shown.

Four years ago, a former Fleet Street editor, Roy Greenslade, wrote that "Mahmood's methods debase journalism", adding, "there is a fine line between the use of subterfuge and the act of entrapment".

Greenslade is right, and his opinions are only confirmed by Mahmood's latest expose. This is not, to me, the sort of quality journalism attained by diligence and honesty. It does not subscribe to the Australian Journalists' Association's code of ethics, which specifies journalists must "use fair, responsible and honest means to obtain material. Identify yourself and your employer before obtaining any interview."

A similar ruling from Britain's National Union of Journalists has a loophole, saying reporters should obtain material "by honest, straightforward and open means, with the exception of investigations that are both overwhelmingly in the public interest and which involve evidence that cannot be obtained by straightforward means".

What disturbs me as well is how Mahmood can put himself by default bang in the middle of his own news stories, and still retain any sense of objectivity. He can't, because he is just as fundamental a part of the story as its subject. All one has to do to justify this is look at the inflammatory words that peppered his "world exclusive" on Sunday, that turn undercover journalism into over-the-top sensationalism: "shamelessly", "greedy", "blatantly", "shady", "dodgy", "brazen", "cash-strapped", "exploit", "manipulate", "carelessly risking", "proclaimed", "grinning", "boasted", "stretched credulity".

Surely, the Duchess of York has sufficiently damned herself and paid the price with interest without Mahmood or his editors having to inject their own unnecessary pejorative language. But then, that would not sell newspapers, would it?