Tension between contempt laws and toxic misinformation spread online reached its peak on July 29 last year. The aphorism that “lies can travel halfway around the world while the truth is still putting its shoes on” best describes the way social media shaped the narrative.
Within minutes, Merseyside police raced to reports of a mass stabbing at a Taylor Swift-themed dance class in Southport and officers arrested Axel Rudakubana, then aged 17. Within hours, baseless claims and conspiracy theories about the knifeman engulfed social media but the force remained silent. Channel3Now, a now-defunct Pakistan-based crime news website, incorrectly named the attacker. Its story claimed he was an asylum seeker, on an MI6 watchlist, and known to Liverpool mental health services. Feverish posts on Facebook and X repeated these claims and filled the information vacuum.
The strict liability rule at the heart of the Contempt of Court Act 1981 is at the forefront of reporters’ minds during developing crime stories – especially one involving a youth under arrest. But respecting the legal process and ensuring victims secure justice and the suspect has a fair trial meant little to digital rabble-rousers.
Andrew Tate, the controversial social media influencer, peddled the false claim that the attacker was an “illegal immigrant” to his 10million followers. The Far Right agitator Tommy Robinson (Stephen Christopher Yaxley-Lennon), who at the time was on the run in Cyprus, stoked tensions when he shared a post that suggested the authorities were trying to “manipulate” the public over the suspect’s identity. Their posts helped to incite some of the worst riots in this country for more than a decade.
Six hours after the attack, Serena Kennedy, the chief constable of Merseyside, confirmed the teenager’s age and pointedly told reporters that he lived in Lancashire and was “originally from Cardiff ”. But by then it was too late. Uninformed motormouths had turbocharged misinformation on social media platforms, while traditional media lacked confirmed facts to steer the narrative. It illustrated how contempt of court laws – described as “disorganised and, at times, incoherent” – are out of step with the digital age.
Mark Stephens, a solicitor with expertise in media law at Howard Kennedy in London, said social media has “filled the void” previously occupied by responsible media. “We’re now in this ridiculous situation where traditional media complies with the law of contempt to the letter because they have editorial lawyers at their elbows – but it’s no longer the place where most people get their news,” he said. “Their primary source is online but it’s not curated and biases aren’t obvious – it’s unrestrained sewage spurting into fibre optic cables.”
Stephens warned that speculation about defendants and their motivations “shouldn’t be conducted in the glare of publicity but rather through responsible media, or else the police are going to have to start enforcing” the rules of contempt on the internet. “Of course, they have never had the appetite to do it because it’s so large and complex,” he added.
While the police might be reluctant, legal experts have proposed revising our 44-year-old contempt laws to make them fit for the non-stop news cycle we operate in today. The Law Commission launched a public consultation reviewing contempt in England and Wales, coincidentally, three weeks before Rudakubana murdered Bebe King, six, Elsie Dot Stancombe, seven, and Alice da Silva Aguiar, nine, and tried to kill 10 others.
Professor Penney Lewis, commissioner for criminal law, said: “We’re consulting on how to make the contempt of court regime a fairer, simpler and a more effective safeguard against conduct that interferes in the administration of justice and the rule of law. We want to make the law governing contempt clearer and more coherent.”
The main tenet of the consultation is to do away with the centuries-old distinctions between “criminal contempt” and “civil contempt” and introduce a framework for liability with three distinct forms – general contempt; contempt by breach of order or undertaking; and contempt by publication when proceedings are active. In England, contempt relates to conduct ranging from deliberate breaches of a court order and publishing material that contravenes a reporting restriction, refusing to answer questions, to interrupting in court. What binds each of these elements is the interference to the administration of justice.
The law dates from the mid-13th century, when the rolls recorded references to contempt of court. Typically, this related to a disturbance in or surrounding the court that affected its business. At that time, there was acknowledgement that contempt could exist in the form of words; for example, a person could be found in contempt if they insulted a judge in
open court. From the 1300s, criminal contempt was limited to “heinous acts”, but over time the law expanded to cover “flagrant abuses” of the administration of justice. By the 18th century, when the press began to thrive, it became accepted that contempt could be committed by published words that served to impede the course of justice. But the piecemeal way it developed in the intervening years exposed the scale of potential issues.
ECHR judgment set ball rolling for modern Act
In August 1981, the current act came into effect, in part, following a decision by the European Court of Human Rights. The case involved an article in The Sunday Times about settlement negotiations against the manufacturers of Thalidomide, a drug for pregnant women that caused many children to be born with disabilities. The government obtained an injunction on the grounds that publication would be in contempt of court. The newspaper argued that the banning order violated the right to freedom of expression and the court agreed.
According to the judgment, the public interest was more important than being in contempt of court. Contempt law does not dictate what is, or is not, permitted; instead, it encompasses a set of broad principles for which each case must be judged on what could create a “substantial risk of serious prejudice”.
For me, crime and contempt go hand in hand, and, as The Times crime correspondent, I’m forever alert to the risks. In the midst of a breaking story, social media will often provide clues to the identities of the deceased and the suspect, and particulars yet to be confirmed by the police. When filing from a murder scene or major incident, it’s second nature to scrutinise my copy for what can be reported. Same too when word of an arrest hits my inbox and the strict liability rules kicks in.
At magistrates’ courts, when prosecutors typically outline the facts of the Crown’s case, reporters will often confer on whether or not a particular line is safe for publication and compliant with automatic reporting restrictions. The fade factor – if there is a long gap between publication and full trial the risk of a report influencing a jury reduces – is also a consideration. But it often escapes self-styled “media commentators”, who post prejudicial details to their stadium-sized audiences before the case comes to court.
A legal source said: “Judges will always tell jurors not to research the case, but I defy you to find anyone who doesn’t check their social media feed and thinks differently when they see a screaming line from Elon Musk or someone with a huge following calling the defendant a paedophile – it’s going to have an impact. There are complete nutters going online and making statements and the courts are basically ignoring them.” Fortunately, juries have proved to be trustworthy and judges in the highest courts have confirmed that they can be relied on to follow directions, ignore online speculation, and reach a verdict based on the evidence put before them.
It’s a perilous balance and protecting the integrity of our criminal justice system is made all the more difficult when people wilfully publish ill-informed and inaccurate material online. Almost everything I file is checked by our team of sharp and indispensable editorial lawyers, who are ready with their metaphorical red pens to strike out a contempt risk I have missed.
In recent years, cases have become trickier to report. Sometimes a judge will orally impose reporting restrictions in addition to contempt rules, but tracking down a hard copy can prove laborious if I’ve not attended the hearing. This creates problems when wanting to report a case as fully as possible but not knowing the parameters within which one must remain.
As part of the consultation, feedback has been sought about making audio recordings in court for the purpose of note-taking, the creation of a reporting restrictions database, and the feasibility of temporarily removing “potentially infringing” online stories during a trial. The commission has also canvassed views on whether criminal proceedings should continue to be considered “active” at the point when a suspect has been arrested or at the moment a person has been charged. A move to the latter would radically change what the media could report during active criminal investigations such as Rudakubana’s three referrals to Prevent, the government initiative designed to prevent children and adults from being drawn into violent extremism, as in the case of Ali Harbi Ali.
In 2022, Ali was convicted of murdering Sir David Amess, the Conservative MP for Southend West, at a constituency surgery the previous year. The killer’s prior contact with Prevent was revealed four days after his arrest and did not jeopardise court proceedings.
The lack of information flowing between the police and the media was a key issue in the Southport case. The “initial step” kicked in the moment Rudakubana was arrested and prosecutors said their priority was to deliver justice for the victims and their families and ensure there was no risk of prejudice to the trial. Accusations of a “cover-up” followed when
Rudakubana was further charged with the production of a biological toxin, ricin, and possession of information likely to be useful to a person committing or preparing to commit an act of terrorism. Details of his background were suppressed by prosecutors but revealed during an embargoed pre-trial briefing. In January 2025, on the first day of his trial, Rudakubana pleaded guilty to all the charges against him. He was jailed for life with a minimum term of 52 years.
CPS gagged police, fuelling a cover-up narrative
The Crime Reporters Association (CRA), which represents around 50 senior crime and home affairs correspondents, formally complained to the head of the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) over its interference in the release of information by the police. (Full disclosure: I have been a CRA member since 2021.)
Reporters pushed for full details of the embargoed case background to be published immediately after the killer’s conviction. But we were barred from doing so until after the sentencing three days later – despite there being no apparent risk of prejudice. The CRA said the decision to block the media from reporting the full background details could allow conspiracy theories to flourish.
Rebecca Camber, chair of the CRA and the Daily Mail’s crime and security editor, said in the letter: “Given the highly sensitive nature of the case, police were desperate to explain in full their commendable efforts to investigate Rudakubana, his background and why decisions were taken about charges. Instead, the force was effectively gagged… the CRA believes there has been a significant overreach by the CPS in this case which has fuelled a cover-up narrative.”
In response, Stephen Parkinson, the director of public prosecutions, said releasing the information earlier would have put the trial at risk, adding that the CPS would present its full case to the court during sentencing. Parkinson added: “The independence of the judge must be respected. Only he can determine the facts which may inform the sentence handed down.”
Chief constable Kennedy later told reporters that she wanted to say more to “demonstrate openness and transparency” but was constrained by CPS advice. Matt Jukes, the UK’s head of counter-terrorism policing, echoed Kennedy’s remarks and said information about Rudakubana’s Prevent referrals was not withheld “due to any lack of candour”. He said the CPS advised them on what information could be released and when, “so as not to risk justice being delivered”.
Jonathan Hall KC, the government’s independent reviewer of terrorism legislation, suggested the lack of an authoritative account of what was known in the hours after the attack had “disastrous” effects, as “social media went completely mad”. “It really is hard to see why more information couldn’t have been given to the public – they were crying out,” he told ITV’s Good Morning Britain. “How the CPS, how the police, how the authorities approach giving information when these terrible attacks occur has to be thought about in the social media age. Just saying nothing is no longer an option.”
The Law Commission’s public consultation closed in November 2024 and written responses are being reviewed before a final report is published. It’s unclear if any of the social media platforms have engaged with the consultation.
“I’ve got my fingers crossed but I’m not holding my breath,” Stephens said. “I’m glad somebody’s looking at it but I’m less than convinced that the people doing so are digital natives. Democratic theory doesn’t work on the internet because algorithms unseeingly intervene, and it’s that societal change which policy makers and lawyers are not across.”