It has been the policy of this column to stick to news coverage and leave views outside its purview. Hammer and Tongs is a comment on journalism as a practice and columns and opinions form a related but separate genre, and the views of columnists, however silly or erroneous, should be refuted substantively. It is the old fact and views distinction that is the operating principle. But Mr Tarun Tejpal’s piece “In defence of the sting operation” (Hindustan Times, 21 October) is a plea for a particular kind of journalistic practice and hence apposite for scrutiny under the terms that this column has set out for itself.
I will leave aside Mr Tejpal’s description of journalism as some kind of babel since the problems with that description are rather too numerous to address here. I shall stick to what is his ringing defence of a practice, “the sting”, which he does not take the trouble to define for us. Presumably all readers understand what the sting is, what it does, how it is carried out, and what it results in. I confess as a reader that I am ignorant about the parameters of this practice, which in Mr Tejpal’s words has “revitalised reportage in India, blown the whistle on corruptions, human rights violations, witness coercion, witness purchase, the misuses of power.” Further this practice, which if one were to believe Mr Tejpal seems to possess chiliastic redemptive powers, has “for the first time in decades” become “an independent deterrent to wrongdoing in public.” In fact, Mr Tejpal without sharing the intelligent design behind this practice tells us that it has been “designed to incontrovertibly nail the excesses of power in a country where the powerful have always gotten away with everything.” The design is “incontrovertible”, no less.
Without in the least being apologetic about it I must quote the dictionary definition of a sting, which has its origins in US English. It is, the OED tells us, either a “burglary or other act of theft, fraud, etc., esp. one that is carefully planned in advance and swiftly executed”, or a “police undercover operation designed to ensnare criminals.” I am sure Mr Tejpal would have none of the first definition though the element of fraud is not without its uses when a journalist poses as someone else. Leaving that aside for the moment, it is closer to an undercover operation designed by the police. As the word ensnare suggests, the purpose of such an operation is to lead criminals into a trap and then catch them. There is a word that is more accurate. It is called entrapment.
Entrapment, in many juridical traditions, even when carried out by the criminal investigation agencies happens only when at least three conditions are met: a) the idea for committing the crime came from the government agents and not from the person accused of the crime; b) the government agents then persuaded or talked the person into committing the crime. Simply giving him the opportunity to commit the crime is not the same as persuading him to commit the crime; c) the person was not ready and willing to commit the crime before the government agents spoke with him. If these conditions are met, then the person is held to be not guilty.
Now when journalists use cameras to film criminal or illegal activities, it does not amount to entrapment. It may be at most a covert operation where the journalist, indulging in some deceit has access to the site of an illegal activity and that she films as a bystander. The use of hidden cameras or miniature cameras is at best a technological tool that allows the filming. Here the journalist does not transform the narrative of the action to film it. She remains a reporter, not a participant.
 A variation of this is when the reporter becomes an accomplice to an act that is illegal. Here the criminal act is designed without the necessary support or permission or active agency of the journalist. The journalist may come to know of the actions and get in touch with the actors, suggest that the truth needs to be uncovered, and become an associate. Such a role-playing by the journalist is still a means of gaining access. He remains largely an observer of the process.
There is, however, a third situation where the reporter is aware of the illegality or criminality that is being carried out. There is no way of gaining access to that illegal practice and hence, it is decided that the journalist assumes a different identity and tries to become a party to the act. At some time during this process the journalist will try to record or film the activity leading to the discovery of truth for the readers or viewers. This is entrapment because there is no prior intention of wrongdoing on the part of the individual in that particular case before the journalist as impersonator initiates action. The process by which the confidence of the person is gained may involve either a simple impersonation or there might be an elaborate process, involving illegalities, that culminates in the final moment of getting the person on record doing a criminal act.
When journalists refer to a piece of reportage as sting, it is not clear which of the above three variations is being talked about since these important categorical differences are conflated. Sting just becomes another name for a stealth operation or an undercover operation. But we need these categories precisely because while the first two discussed above may be fine, the last one is not journalism. Far from being meticulous and detailed, the last one is a rather easy way to do journalism. A better way would be to follow an actual paper trail and nail the wrong doers. Also, most crucially such journalistic practices cannot be upheld in any court of law without substantive proof of related misdemeanours even though one may argue that the task of the journalist differs from that of the prosecution. (The fact that journalists in such cases do assume a prosecutorial role in the court of public opinion is important to note in this regard). Add to that the fact that journalists may have broken laws to get to the story.
Unless one indulges in a brazen “end justifies means” argument, one cannot but think of entrapment as an unethical journalistic practice. Mr Tejpal’s suggestion that only the politicians or powerful oppose sting or that those who oppose sting would rather have press releases and press conference blather being pushed to the people is at best an example of bluster and rhetorical flourish. Journalism is hard work. Stings are easy and in the hands of young journalists who would rather use technology than access files, read reports, question the actors, it is arguably easier and not more difficult than practicing investigative journalism.
The fear is that the sting may well be on the way to replacing investigative journalism that demands patience, perseverance, painstakingly-built contacts, and an acute research ability. Entrapment relies on technology and is most likely to be misused and overused in cases that are trivial and at best, visually shocking. The craftily edited portions are more designed to incite reactions than provoke sustained deliberations, even in an angry mode, leading to long-lasting changes.
It is not my case that criminality should not be captured for viewers or readers. It most certainly should be. The first kind of reportage passes muster. The second kind must be carefully decided. The third must be shunned. To suggest that we need more rather than less and to think that the sting is some kind of journalistic nostrum is to get one’s idea of journalism and the idea of journalism’s place in democratic politics wrong. The ills of our system, and the good lord on the right and the dialectician on the left both know there is a lot of it there, cannot be remedied by a practice that is itself wrong and unethical. Contextual assessments are dangerous, especially in as unruly an arena as journalism. Some rules defining all that is bundled under the name of sting and distinguishing types and making ethical distinctions are minimum desiderata, not a frothy defence of the practice. Â
