How journalism brought justice for Noel Clarke’s victims

Hey there,

This week, I’m going to tell you about a massive legal victory for journalists reporting important stories that happened just a few weeks ago, when The Guardian prevailed in a libel suit brought by the actor, producer and director Noel Clarke.

But that does mean I have to talk about the behaviour he was accused of: sexual misconduct. If that’s something you’d rather not read about, I understand and I’ll see you next week.

Going on the record to speak to a journalist is a big deal. When you’re someone reporting sexual misconduct it is even harder. Doing so in court is another level entirely.

The day that Lisa Graham arrived outside the looming spires of London’s Royal Courts of Justice, she had tears streaming down her face. Four years earlier, Lisa was one of the women who had spoken to The Guardian about sexual misconduct she experienced at the hands of Clarke.

The Guardian’s reporting, led by Sirin Kale and Lucy Osborne, revealed a pattern of Clarke’s behaviour with women, including secretly taking and sharing nude footage, and making unwanted sexual comments and advances that were sometimes physical. The stories caused a furore and eventually Clarke launched a legal challenge, claiming that The Guardian’s evidence wasn’t sufficient and the stories weren’t in the public interest. That’s how Lisa ended up at court.

“I wasn’t sad, I was pissed off,” Lisa would later tell The Guardian’s Today in Focus podcast. “I was furious that he had weaponised our legal system to the point where we had to come to and defend our own honour. It felt really backwards.”

Defamation cases are an existential threat for media outlets. Lose, and your publication could disappear. And even mounting a defence can require substantial resources that many outlets can’t afford. That’s how stories get quashed and it’s one of the reasons many defamation proceedings rarely make it to trial.

But The Guardian hadn’t been cowed.

Neither had Lisa – who, by the way, had no obligation to be in court. Clarke’s complaint was against the journalists and editors who published the stories. In the run up to the court date, The Guardian team made it clear to Lisa that she didn’t have to appear.

“‘Oh no, I do’,” Lisa remembers responding. “I am in court today for myself.”

She wasn’t alone. Twenty-six people agreed to stand as truth witnesses – and more gave signed statements – testifying, repeating their painful experiences, and taking the grilling from Clarke’s representation.

The judgment, published after a six-week trial, is a fascinating insight into The Guardian’s rigour in both its reporting and in fighting the case. Clarke was challenging The Guardian on two counts – truth and public interest.

“With an investigation like this, there is a really high bar for publication, as there should be,” Sirin told me.

Throughout the process, Sirin and Lucy’s analysis of the evidence would be tested by their editors, as Paul Lewis, the investigations editor for The Guardian, told the court. “We wrote very extensive public interest memos that were dozens of pages long, in which we outlined all the information we had, everything together, all the corroboration we had for senior editors to review,” Sirin said. The judge agreed, writing in the judgment:

Clarke’s team tried to argue that the reporters simply took the women’s word for it, without investigating further. But that was anything but the case – as the judgment outlined:

Throughout their reporting, Sirin and Lucy had to strike the balance between working with sources sensitively to explore painful experiences, and making sure they interrogated those recollections so their articles were absolutely cast iron.

Sirin told me that they would always be on the lookout for things that seemed implausible or unreliable, or for stories that altered in retellings. “You’re listening to hear if any of the details ever change,” Sirin said. “And they never did.”

One woman made allegations against Clarke involving an incident in a storage room on set. Sirin would sometimes mistakenly refer to the room as a broom cupboard. “Every time I did, she would correct me,” Sirin told me. “She was so precise and true in her recollection of events. And those recollections never changed.”

But precise and unflinching testimony alone was not enough. Corroboration was critically important. Sirin and Lucy pored over text messages, phone records and bank statements. If someone described a conversation with someone, they would speak to everyone who could have witnessed it.

Setting the bar so high for publication left The Guardian in very good stead to go to court. Clarke’s claims against them were dismissed. While the judgment reads as a triumph for The Guardian’s team, the most important thing is that the courage of Lisa and the other women who spoke up had been recognised.

“The main feeling that I had was just a real sense that the women had been vindicated,” said Sirin. “To be believed by the judge and have it written and recognised by a court was, I think, for all of them, a lot of closure.”

As the judge wrote:

Sirin also thinks there is a message for the wider industry: “I hope that other editors and journalists will look at the fact that we won on truth and we also won on public interest, and they will feel that they can also publish difficult stories that might end up in litigation.”

“I remember opening my phone and seeing the breaking news [of the allegations against Noel Clarke]. I was immediately struck by both the sheer scale and the detail of the allegations. Twenty women. That number alone speaks volumes.

Here in the UK, we have a particular issue with ‘open secrets’ among celebrity circles. People see, people know, but they don’t act, because the cost of challenging powerful men is so high. That is how the abuse of power becomes normalised.

The prosecution rates for sexual abuse of women is pitiful. Many women refuse to report to the police, while others who do report are met with disbelief, causing re-traumatisation. Journalists and the media have in some ways taken over the role of what might traditionally be thought of as confined to the police.

The Guardian’s work stood out because of its forensic approach to investigating the allegations. They showed that these stories were serious, credible, and deserved to be heard. It also underlines that the press can act responsibly in reporting allegations of sexual misconduct and that when they do, the courts will stand behind them.

The judgment is significant on several fronts. For the women, it is vindication. It is a recognition by the court that their accounts were credible and that their voices matter. For The Guardian and other media sources, it is an affirmation of rigorous investigative journalism and the essential role of the press in exposing abuse.

And for society, it sends a strong signal that the law cannot be used as a weapon to silence women or suppress uncomfortable truths. Defamation law has often been criticised for favouring the rich and powerful and preventing exposure of the truth. This case demonstrates that the truth can prevail.

This case does give me hope; hope that truth can triumph over power and that the law can be used to protect rather than silence. But hope alone is not enough. We need structural reform: stronger whistleblower protections, accountability within industries, and an end to secrecy clauses and NDAs that bury abuse.

Above all else, we need cultural change – a shift towards believing women, rather than questioning their motives. Public interest journalism is crucial in this. Without it, many women's experiences would never see the light of day. Transparency on its own is a form of justice.

What drives me is a belief that the law must not act as a shield for the powerful but as a weapon for justice in the hands of the most vulnerable. For far too long, women have been disbelieved, dismissed, and even punished for speaking out about abuse. My work is rooted in a commitment to changing this.

Justice cannot exist in a system that rewards silence and punishes truth-telling. It is time for radical reform.”

A late-breaking update as I put the final touches on this newsletter: Noel Clarke has been ordered to pay at least £3m to cover The Guardian’s legal costs. There’s a chance he’ll have to pay more once a detailed assessment is made of how much The Guardian had to pay to defend itself – it could be as much as £6m.

Longtime readers will know that libel suits against the press get me particularly riled up. TBIJ has taken the lead on campaigns to protect the press and the public from spurious legal action as part of the UK Anti-SLAPP Coalition. You can help us keep going with it by becoming one of our Insiders.

That’s all from me this week. Take care,