Permission to tweet, m'lud: the new world of court reporting

Mr Justice Cocklecarrot, Private Eye'sjudicial anti-hero, would have been stunned to have received his boss' latest missive examining the issues surrounding live tweeting from court.

Consultation - to give it its full title - on the Use of Live, Text-Based Forms of Communications from Court for the Purposes of Fair and Accurate Reporting follows on from interim guidance issued by Lord Judge in December.

In embracing not just the web but the social web, the Lord Chief Justice hasn't just trampled over the sensitivities of Judge Cocklecarrot; he's left many other - ostensibly more modern - individuals and institutions trailing in his wake.

Tweeting, texting or even emailing from court has been permitted on a case-by-case basis since December, when the district judge in the Julian Assange extradition bail hearing gave reporters the nod. (BBC reporter Anna Adams' tweets from yesterday's Assange hearing are shown above.)

Since then, both the media and the courts have been tentatively exploring the new arrangements like teenagers at the school disco - excited and eager to please but anxious not to go too far.

It would seem that the experience of both sides has done nothing to challenge the principle that tweeting from court is 'a good thing' that supports the "proper administration of justice" through the principle of open justice. And both sides are trying to work together to chart a course through the pragmatic and practical issues that an acceptance of the core principle brings.

On the first day of the Lord Taylor trial, journalists made an application to the judge to be allowed to tweet. Mr Justice Saunders was encouraging but wanted to know more. He initially suggested a 30-minute delay on reporting to give counsel a chance to retract anything that could damage the case. But the reporters convinced him that that was unworkable and would have to apply to all broadcasting.

The judge wanted to know whether information that was later ruled inadmissible could be retracted. Technically, of course, journalists would delete anything at risk of being in contempt of court; but, once it's out there, putting the retweeting genie back in the bottle is nigh on impossible.

During the Taylor trial, it was made clear to reporters that their tweets were being monitored. In fact, one was pulled up for tweets which he was told firmly went beyond legitimate court reporting.

But the consultation makes clear that the issue at stake is not whether but how courts should "take account of these technological and cultural developments" and ensure not only "that the course of justice is not interfered with ... but also to prevent anyone unwittingly committing contempt of court".

Thus, inadvertently tweeting inadmissible or sensitive evidence, jurors engaging in improper use of the internet to research the case, witness coaching and practical disruption of proceedings are all identified by the Lord Chief Justice as key areas to resolve.

For the media, there are even more fundamental practical issues. How do news organisations resource tweeting from court? In these straitened times, is it appropriate to send an extra journalist to court just to tweet, or is it reasonable to expect such a high-profile job to be added to an already long list of tasks that many broadcast journalists already have?

And how should cases be tweeted?

As a steady stream of almost stenographic text, or as a (slightly) more considered two or three tweets an hour upsum?

How can there be any of the traditional editorial oversight in such a rapid, real-time process - to ensure accuracy and balance?

And what does this mean for how the media covers trials? Gavel-to-gavel coverage, even of big trials, is a thing of the dim and distant past. But does the emergence of Twitter take us back to the old days where if a news organisation starts tweeting a case it will find itself obliged to follow every spit and cough? Or will it be acceptable to extend the current practice of dipping in and out of reporting cases so long as an overall balance of the evidence is reported?

While the introduction of Twitter doesn't change the fundamental principles of court reporting, the highly distilled and breathlessly rapid nature of the platform brings them into sharp relief - and gives the media pause for thought over how it should respond.

The injection of a highly regulated kind of reporting into an essentially conversational, informal and opinionated space represents a significant challenge to the courts and the media.

It is unthinkable that the Twitterati will be able to restrain themselves from liberally commenting on proceedings as they retweet 140 carefully constructed characters from even the most highly trained court reporters. Where does that leave the Contempt of Court Act?