You have a problem. The problem is the amount of thoroughly unpleasant material on the internet. A man convicted of a terrible murder was addicted to looking at some of this unpleasant material, most of it depicting women being raped and strangled. The mother of his victim has organised a petition against the material, which garners 50,000 signatures.
So what do you do? You ban it. There's a debate to be had about that - whether this sort of stuff should be banned or not. But there's another debate about how you go about banning these things. This second debate - rarely touched on in the media - is as important as the first.
The government's current habit, in the case of today's law against extreme pornography, and a host of others, is to construct legislation in the broadest possible terms.
Today's law, for instance, bans the ownership of material which features harm to the breast, genitals or anus, or something which appears to threaten the life of the person involved. It doesn't matter whether the actions are fake or not, nor whether the participants consented to appear.
It also bans depictions of sex with an animal or a corpse. It doesn't matter whether the animal or corpse is real. All that matters is whether a rational person could believe it to be real. So if you and a friend make a mannequin, dress it up to look like a corpse and shoot a film where someone behaves as if they were sexually interfering with it - you have broken the law. It doesn't sound like the way most people choose to enjoy themselves, but illegal? Surely not.
The benefits to the government of this form of legislating are considerable.
It allows for maximum flexibility in how the law is applied. As it stands, ownership of A Clockwork Orange, the infamous Stanley Kubrick film, or the work of some art-house directors, could potentially break the law, as could the vast majority of bondage and sadomasochist pornography, the vast majority of which is far, far tamer than the material the law is designed to stamp out. With such a vast swathe of material potentially covered by the law, a future government, or a future crown prosecution service (CPS), would find itself quite able to pursue prosecutions which today's legislators have no interest in.
The broad framing of the law also makes it far easier to construct. There is no need to go into details or worry about unforeseen consequences. Instead, the government merely writes up the law in the widest sense possible, and then decides to only pursue those prosecutions which it has an interest in.
This method also helps slip the law through without too much media attention. No-one likes sticking up for violent pornography, especially once they've seen a clip of what it is they're trying to defend. So passing a law against 'extreme porn', rather than a series of specific examples, tends to bypass debate.
It also tends to dull that opposition to the law which does exist. The government casts the net as far as possible, then when outraged interest groups - in this case anti-censorship campaigners and sadomasochist groups - complain to the relevant department, a spokesperson merely tells them: 'Don't worry, we're not after you.'
Broad legislation makes life easier for the government. But it is a tired and shameful way to approach the primary function of government.
For a start, it confuses law for public relations. Real laws, restricting the freedom of real people, are passed not so much out of a sense of what's right, but in an attempt to make it look as if the government is doing something. Passing them in a manner which is wide enough to outlaw a host of perfectly reasonable activities simply so legislators don't have to concentrate too hard on the details belittles both their task and the role of government as a whole.
And government itself becomes perilously strong by adopting this approach. Having now published 54 - count them - criminal justice bills, it appears to be in some sort of spasm of law-making. This is reflected in the quality of the laws it is passing, which are poorly made, worryingly blunt, and often more concerned with making the front-page than they are actually reflecting the values of society.
Correspondingly, the power of parliament is reduced. Without a real ethical agenda to legislation, parliament is reduced to nothing. A law against men and women being forced to appear in violent pornography would get universal support. One banning A Clockwork Orange wouldn't. But just saying a law is against extreme pornography by-passes an ethical discussion, because no-one actually knows who the law will be used against.
Which brings us to its final effect: it reduces respect for the law. Not only because it shows the law to be lazily drawn up, but also because actions which are morally neutral or pointless to legislate against (such as the new law against setting off a nuclear bomb) are seen for what they are: Lazy and counterproductive.
It's unfortunate any government of Britain would behave in this way. Expect it to stop anytime soon? Not a chance.
Ian Dunt
