This week, Daily Telegraph Chief political commentator Peter Oborne resigned - spectacularly - from his position with the newspaper. In a huge, 3,000 word essay the journalist launched a blistering attack on his employers and a number of other senior newspaper figures, for what he termed 'a fraud on readers.' The particular subject of his tirade was the lack of coverage given by the paper to the HSBC tax story (the bank is accused of enabling tax evasion for wealthy customers), a story which he claims was suppressed to ensure the protection of HSBC's lucrative advertising account. One imagines however, that if it wasn't this advertiser, and this story, it could well have been another. Oborne's letter suggests a much more widespread problem than a dodgy relationship between one paper and one bank.
The resignation letter went viral, partly because senior journalists of every affiliation and media outlet were united in sharing it. They were agreeing with Oborne: that this practice happens, on a big or small scale, all the time, throughout the media. Oborne had cut through a world of spin, promotion and politics, and shone a light on something very dangerous - the idea that editorial influence can be bought; that truth could be suppressed at the right price - not just by some shadowy government organisation, but perhaps by a car giant, or an insurance company.
Journalists and editors prize editorial independence above almost anything, and with good reason. As soon as advertisers believe they have the power to change the content of the morning news by applying financial threat, we're on our way to a very dangerous place, and it's not called democracy. Suddenly a supermarket's profit slump is buried on page 43 and an arms company are no longer called to account for supplying missiles to a rogue African dictator.
We in the Christian community should be as concerned about this as anyone else - "learn to do right; seek justice" says Isaiah (1:17) - but for me it also opens up a couple of pertinent questions closer to home. The first is this: does this same practice, of advertising money buying otherwise unearned influence, also happen within the Christian subculture?
In almost ten years as a magazine editor, I never had a story squashed by an influential advertiser, but I often had conversations with people who attempted to use the promise of advertising to ensure I favoured or promoted their product. And in my role over the last few years running a major Christian conference, I've had a different version of that same conversation, with people or organisations who want to put their product (or often themselves) on the platform, and are willing to pay 'in kind' for the privilege.
My hunch is that my experience isn't unique (unless perhaps I just have the air of a man who can be bribed). This really matters, because just as the press sets the cultural agenda, Christian media and conferences often help to set the vision of the church. And just as the press has a vital role to play in scrutinising governments and big business, the Christian press is not just there to be nice - it must also apply scrutiny to the church, and shine a light when necessary. Without editorial independence, Christian media outlets are simply republishers of press releases, presenting only the angles that the people who want you to buy stuff, want you to read - uncritical, 'puff' journalism with no sense of scepticism or context.
A Christian media that can be 'bought' begins to set a vision that has been paid for, and turns a blind eye to the areas of the house that need to be put in order. If Christian conferences allow people to buy their way on to the platform, they allow vision to be cast by people who are there by money, not merit. This simply can't be allowed to happen. Oborne's critique of the Telegraph should challenge and resonate with us in this context too.
There's a second application however, and it pertains to the local church. I was once involved in a youth work team which presented a fairly radical vision to our church about our work with teenagers. After consultation with some 'senior' figures within the congregation, the minister turned it down flat. When we asked why, we were told that some of the older members of the church had reacted furiously to our ideas, which would have meant them accepting a few subtle changes to church life. We protested, and the minister looked one of my colleagues dead in the eye as he replied, finally: 'It's not a decision I'm going to change. These people pay your wages."
I've no idea whether those older congregants actually threatened to withdraw financial support, but it was certainly implied. And this is where the same problem Oborne unearths - of money buying direction, independence and vision - rears its ugly head again. It's difficult of course, especially in small churches where it's almost impossible not to know which members of the congregation offer the higher levels of financial support, but leaders have to make sure that they make their decisions based on what's right, not on how that decision might affect their giving income. That's also true in para-church organisations - in both cases, we should probably start to worry when our agendas are being set by rich funders.
Peter Oborne's resignation was such a big story because it provided a rare opportunity to see what many suspected all along. Journalists hope his act of self-sacrificial whistle-blowing will help to preserve editorial independence, and even usher in a greater sense of integrity in the media. As we applaud him, we should also be aware of the plank in our own eyes; when money sets the agenda in the church, we sell ourselves short, we sell God short; we sell out.
Martin Saunders is an author, screenwriter and the Deputy CEO of Youthscape. Follow him on Twitter @martinsaunders
