Sharp suits vs sharp practice

To the right: John Stonborough, erstwhile investigative reporter, consumer's champion, now media relations consultant and watchdogs' scourge now. With him, his legal eagle. He tells Rob Brown why he crossed the wire

Late afternoon in the BBC canteen at White City in west London. A quiet stretch of the day ... usually. But today there is a sudden rumpus at one of the tables. Accusations fly and, for a few tense moments, a couple of coffee mugs also threaten to become airborne. What's the commotion? Oh, it's just John Stonborough doing his job.

Stonborough makes a living by marketing himself as a damage limitation expert to major companies which find themselves the target of scrutiny by investigative TV programmes. The aforementioned kerfuffle erupted shortly before one of his high-paying clients was scheduled to be interrogated on the evening news magazine show Here and Now.

"Sometimes it gets quite heavy-duty - both before and after the transmission of a programme," he explains. "It's never come to fisticuffs. But I let them have it when I think they're overstepping the mark."

Stonborough is the ultimate poacher-turned-gamekeeper. After three years in the Metropolitan Police, he carved out a broadcasting career by tracking down villains and exposing fraud on both TV and radio. He worked for Radio 4's investigative programme Checkpoint for four years and did a similarly long stint on Channel 4's award-winning consumer programme 4 What It's Worth.

Not surprising, then, that he was pilloried in the tabloid press when, in 1988, he decided to cross the wire and market himself as a "media relations consultant". Now his lengthy list of blue-chip clients past and present includes British Airways, Barings bank, Tesco and British Rail.

"I remember The Mirror wrote a shitty piece about me when I changed sides," he says. "The fact is I'm just getting justice for a different group of people, making sure my clients get a fair crack of the whip.

"The victories are when we can make a programme disappear altogether or when we force changes which make a programme less damaging to our client's reputation or bottom line than it might have been."

To assist him in his crusade, Stonborough has just hired as a consultant David Williams from the BBC. Williams, a qualified barrister, had been with the corporation for 14 years, latterly as deputy head of legal affairs. His decision is being hailed as a "coup" by Stonborough, who is eager to reap the maximum PR advantage from it.

Their pinstriped partnership operates from a basement office near Park Lane. Lowe Bell Communications, one of the highest-profile outfits in London, occupies the rest of the building. There is no formal connection, but many of Stonborough's clients are passed on by PR firms reluctant to dabble in his specialised branch of spindoctoring.

Even Stonborough recoils from some clients and is always careful to insert a "wriggle-out clause" in his contracts. "Some real crooks have walked in this store and asked for my help," he says, claiming to have dropped a client recently who was involved in vivisection and drug-testing. "Everyone has a right to a fair hearing, but there are some things I don't want to be associated with."

But Stonborough sticks with clients that many others in the damage limitation sector might turn away. He represented Ian Greer Associates, the lobbying firm at the centre of the Neil Hamilton cash-for-questions affair when it came under scrutiny by The Cook Report. "But I don't spar with Roger Cook a great deal," he adds quickly. "His usual targets - major crooks, drug dealers, contract killers - are not on our client list."

Stonborough also involved himself in the aftermath of the Marchioness disaster when he represented the RMC group, owner of the dredger that collided with the pleasure boat on the Thames, causing 51 deaths by drowning. Sam Bagnall, who produced a Dispatches documentary on the tragedy for Channel 4, says: "John Stonborough does appear to positively revel in his poacher-turned-gamekeeper image. But his assertion that major companies are sad victims of investigative journalism is bizarre. The sad truth is that investigative journalism is a declining force in this country, which can't bode well for the business he's in."

Bagnall crossed swords with Stonborough recently when he produced a Dispatches documentary about Sotheby's that alleged smuggling art works. After it was screened Stonborough wrote to The Times complaining about the ITC's failure to police secret filming by TV companies. John Willis, Channel 4's director of programmes, hit back at his "partial interpretation" of the ITC code, and defended the use of miniature spy cameras "to corroborate important stories of public interest, such as the Sotheby's scandal".

Broadcasters are nervous the scales could be tipped in favour of Stonborough and his ilk in June when the Broadcasting Standards Commission publishes a new code of practice on privacy and fair treatment. Some even fear that investigative reporting could be killed stone dead by the new code. The BSC's chair, Lady Howe, has declared that she is keen to encourage self-regulation and will "champion the powerlessness of the consumer".

Last week Stonborough was trying to get his hands on a draft copy of the code. "We'll have a strong position on this because we see the effects of this type of investigative journalism and the inadequacies of the current regulations," he says. "In fact, I think I'll fire off a letter to The Times." Stonborough plainly enjoys appearing on the letters page of what was once the top people's paper - maybe he sees it as a useful form of self-promotion, something to impress clients, both existing and potential.

His new partner is plainly happy to let him fire off both in print and in our interview. A consummate media law practitioner, Williams is calm and measured when explaining his decision to change sides. When he was attached to the BBC's Programme Complaints Unit - which investigates allegations of serious invasions of privacy, injustices and inaccuracies - he says, "I became increasingly aware that journalistic shortcuts were beginning to creep in. Things weren't being done as thoroughly as they should have been as programme-makers came under increasing pressure to produce exciting television and boost ratings."

Stonborough makes the same point more forcefully. "People switch on their TV sets and they think they're being told the truth by people who are on the side of 'the consumer'," he says. "But the result is that enormous swathes of airtime are filled with shock-horror stories about major companies that are extremely respectable and above board. Indeed, net contributors to the national wealth and important employers are treated like back-street double-glazing villains."

BBC consumer programmes, he contends, operate under an "impartiality myth". He cites a press release issued for a new strand in this genre entitled Weekend Watchdog, which states: We're here to expose the major companies which offer one thing and deliver another..."

"As this statement reveals, it is now accepted in certain areas of the BBC that impartiality is no longer required," says Stonborough. "They're on the side of something called the consumer."

He's correct on the last count and Steve Anderson, editor of Watchdog for the last two years, is proud of that fact. "The viewers come to us because we get good stories," he says. "I'm not sure why companies turn to people like John Stonborough. In my experience, they're not very effective.

"The fact that he used to work for a very minor consumer affairs programme on Channel 4 gives him a nice selling pitch. But the truth is that John Stonborough hasn't cost me one single sleepless night"n