The chair of the BBC has to know all about lying

Honesty is honesty. It cannot be qualified. I don't accept that there are ethical shades of grey

The job advertisement in the Sunday newspapers asks: "could you chair the BBC?" and then lists desirable qualifications. I would add a further one to the list: the ability to know when is a lie not a lie. This question runs like a thread through the Iraq controversy, tying up the Government and the BBC alike.

Actually the BBC gave two different answers to that question last week. The first one was in effect, even après Gilligan, that it doesn't matter what you say about politicians, nor do you need much proof. Thus an episode of the Radio 4 sitcom Absolute Power, due to be broadcast on Thursday evening, had put into the mouths of fictional spin doctors the opinion - without evidence - that the Prime Minister was an accomplished liar.

Yet just a day later, we learnt that Gavyn Davies, who recently resigned as chair of the BBC, was considering suing Alastair Campbell because he was furious at being accused of "not telling the truth".

How can these two positions be reconciled? The media insult politicians because politicians rarely protest, let alone go to the courts. In this regard, Alastair Campbell's pugnacity on behalf of his political masters was unusual. The media's carelessness with what they write or say about politicians is in turn based on the test for libel or slander applied by the courts. This is that the words complained about would have the effect of lowering the reputation of the person concerned in the opinion of the public. For the media know that politicians as a class are generally thought to have no reputation to lose - a distinction, by the way, shared with journalists.

Moreover this anything-goes attitude to politicians is balanced in the minds of the media by the total privilege attached to statements made by Members of Parliament in the House of Commons. MPs can and do say what they like about people without fear of being sued.

I don't think that any of this is right. Individual politicians and individual journalists do have reputations to lose, even though the public has a low estimation of the way in which they make their livings. It was wrong to challenge the Prime Minister's veracity through the medium of a sitcom, for the charge was no less damaging than had it been broadcast on Panorama. I too, had I been a BBC editor, would have crossed out those comedy lines. Straight away. Equally I don't see any merit in a parliamentary privilege that allows no remedy to citizens whose reputation may have been blackened in the debating chambers.

Gavyn Davies, on the other hand, behaves like an old-fashioned Brit. The species is not extinct, I am glad to find. Mr Davies takes responsibility for a serious error committed on his watch by resigning, even though he was in no position to prevent the particular incident. On the other hand, he won't allow his honour to be impugned. He is gravely insulted by a charge of lying and thinks of going to a court of law to prove his innocence. Quite right. Charges of lying are often made without much thought.

Readers sometimes accuse newspapers of lying when in fact what they mean is that a mistake has been made. When I had the responsibility, I used to inquire whether the complainant meant that an error had been committed or was he or she really asserting that there had been dishonesty. If the latter, I replied that this was a serious charge and that it should not be made without proof. Rarely was any forthcoming.

Unfortunately the state and its servants, such as Lord Butler who heads the latest Iraq inquiry, often fall short of the duty of honesty in the conduct of the public service, and thus set a bad example to the rest of us. Lord Butler told the Scott inquiry into the sale of arms when he was Cabinet Secretary that "you have to be selective with the facts... it does not follow that you mislead people. You just do not give the full information... it is not justified to mislead, but very often one is finding oneself in a position where you have to give an answer that is not the whole truth."

I don't like this shilly-shallying at all. Honesty is honesty. It cannot be qualified. I don't accept that there are ethical shades of grey. An answer that is not the whole truth is misleading, full stop. Moreover the supreme interests of the state supposedly being safeguarded by such prevarication are usually nothing more than a cover-up of misjudgements and misdeeds.

In the House of Commons, the convention is that members do not accuse each other of lying. Note Robin Cook's careful use of words last week when Mr Blair said that he didn't know the details of the 45-minutes claim for weapons of mass destruction. Mr Cook only expressed surprise at the Prime Minister's ignorance in light of his own knowledge and that of other colleagues at the time, nothing more. Yet I think we all know what Mr Cook meant.

When is a lie not a lie? This seems to be the answer: not when the media is criticising politicians. Yes when someone's honour is at risk. Not when the interests of the state are at stake. Yes when you are speaking in the House of Commons.

If you chair the BBC you will, among other qualities, have to understand that these distinctions are without value. A lie is a lie.