Tag: defamation

“…theoretically at least, Ben Roberts-Smith could be prosecuted for War Crimes under Article 8 of the Rome Statute. But the criminal standard of proof beyond reasonable doubt is a much higher bar to be leapt than mere proof on the balance of probabilities, and the ICC already has its hands more than full.” The recent […]

Some years ago I attended a breakfast at the Sheraton Hotel on the Gold Coast, at which the then highly-respected - and now much-maligned - Victoria Cross recipient, Ben Roberts-Smith, was the featured guest speaker. In his riveting address, Mr Roberts-Smith enthralled his audience with a detailed account of his service with the Australian Defence Force in Afghanistan, including the extraordinary events that saw him bestowed Australia’s highest award for valour and devotion to duty in the theatre of war. As anyone who has heard the war hero’s harrowing tale of combat and courage under fire could tell you, it’s a hell of a yarn. And boy, did he tell it well.
China has yet again cemented its reputation as the great 21st-century innovator by coming up with a novel new way of convincing its citizens to honour their legal and community responsibilities. In the interests of encouraging wayward debtors to pay their dues, Chinese Authorities have devised a none-too-subtle system of naming and shaming them by projecting their names and faces onto movie screens across the country, including recently during the previews to the worldwide smash hit movie Avengers: Endgame.
They say the truth will set you free. But when it comes to defamation, I wouldn't count on it. The recent rush of "Me Too" revelations has set up what promises to be some very interesting defamation litigation in the not too distant future.
The nasty news, gossip and scandal that started with Hollywood heavyweight Harvey Weinstein has grown into a tsunami of distasteful allegations of misogynistic and worse sexual misconduct in the United States, reaching to the very upper echelons of the industry. It has been fascinating to watch the reaction from all corners of the community, one that perhaps marks a pivotal turning-point in cultural attitudes regarding the latitude we as a society will permit those in positions of power. It has already seemingly sounded the death knell for the once stellar careers of more than a few noted luminaries in Hollywood and Washington.
Some court cases concern life and liberty, some are about money and manipulation, and others grubby politics and power. But in defamation cases everything’s at stake. Our reputation and good name is our most valued asset, because when all is said and done it’s all we have. Youth is transient, beauty skin-deep, and material riches illusory. Our physical strength and allure inevitably wane and fade like yesterday’s flowers, and affluence and influence desert us like a fickle, fatuous friend.
Little fish are sweet. High profile defamation actions and messy murder trials may make for big headlines, but from a lawyer's point of view the smaller, seemingly less significant cases are just as challenging and (provided you finish first, and not just a commendable second) every bit as satisfying.
Not everything's about money. One of my favourite Australian films of all time is Ken Hannan’s classic 1975 drama Sunday Too Far Away. It tells the tale of knock-about shearers working the sheds on an outback sheep station in 1955 Australia. Their tough existence is summed up in the title, paraphrasing what’s known as The Shearers Wife’s Lament – “Friday night too tired, Saturday night too drunk, Sunday too far away.” Jack Thompson plays Foley, a hard-drinking gun shearer who leads his workmates in a strike over their substandard working conditions. When their employer brings in non-union labour in a bid to break the strike, Foley and his mates dig in. It’s a great line, and a great way to end the film.
A couple of years back, at the International Criminal Law Congress, I delivered a paper on the effect of pre-trial publicity on jury trials. Victorian Supreme Court Justice Betty King, who presided over the trial of Melbourne underworld figure Carl Williams and others charged in the wake of the Melbourne gangland war, was on the same panel of speakers. Justice King famously banned the high-rating Underbelly television series from being aired in the state of Victoria during Williams’ trial because of the prejudicial effect it might have on the deliberations the jury. Naturally, the ban caused quite a stir and upset a lot of people, not least of all the producers at Channel 9. But in the end it probably had significantly less effect than Justice King had hoped it would. Despite the television ban, the first episode of Underbelly was available online, everywhere throughout the world wide web, within 20 minutes of it being aired on television in states outside Victoria.