Super injunctions: how to publicise a secret

It doesn’t matter if you’re loyal to the broadsheets, indulge in the tabloids or prefer a quick online fix; however you digest your news, you’d have found it hard to miss the ongoing uproar about super injunctions. And, of course, the fact that we know anything, let alone so much, about these legal orders highlights their most obvious flaw: they don’t work.

In theory, super injunctions should make a journalist’s life harder–much harder. If you can describe an event, but not the (more affluent) parties involved, you don’t have a story. Or do you? During this period of enforced silence, journalists have been using some increasingly inventive ways to get the truth into the press. Below are some of the best examples.



Due to the fact that I have very little interest in spending the next few months in prison (my birthday is coming up), I’ve concealed the names of the “super injunctors.” Well, we all know who they are anyway…

The "ideal dinner companions"

A classic piece of column fodder becomes instantly provocative when the list of those at your table consists solely of those with "alleged" injunctions.

The "non-story" Is the fact that a "certain actor" hasn’t mentioned his wife much lately newsworthy?  It was for one British paper, which compared said actor’s relationship with his wife to that of a "devoted" premiership football super couple. Without breaking any laws, and with only one sentence, it lifted the lid on two injunctions.

The "I wonder why I haven’t seen them around lately?" A certain broadsheet author isn’t happy that a certain performer hasn’t done any gigs for a while or been active on his Twitter feed. The fact that no-one really knows who this comedian is away from these scandals raised the flags on this one.



The "specially selected career highlights" The productions that this actor has previously appeared in are unfortunately apt; ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore indeed.

The in-your face A tabloid recently suggested that an actor deserved an award for being seen “bravely holding hands with his wife.” Maybe she found out something we all know.

Finally, my personal favourite…

The “this article cannot accept comments due to legal reasons” online disclaimer Fair enough in most cases, but following a review of a popular BBC TV show?

It may seem childish, and it may be that many journalists are simply injunction-bating in order to sell papers, but by having to report on these matters in such a covert way, I believe journalism has been rejuvenated. Writers have been forced to work harder, omitting names, places and occasionally events whilst undoubtedly (and legally) providing the reader with everything they need to know.

As for the future of these injunctions, I look to Andrew Marr. How fitting that a journalist is a perfect example of the ineffective nature of these injunctions. He probably wishes he hadn’t bothered with his 2008 gagging order. A journalist hiding behind a privacy injunction is more of a hypocrite than a man who cheats on his wife could ever be. It also makes for a much more interesting story than his original indiscretion. The same goes for the rest of these tales: when the claimants are finally named in print (and it’s quite likely that many will be people we’ve barely heard of) they will be forever synonymous with this ridiculous trend.