Free speech is one of those virtues which is incontestable as a good in itself. It is necessary for ensuring uncomfortable secrets are laid bare and ensuring that society's rulers are accountable to those whom they are supposed to represent.
Unfortunately, as I have previously suggested, it can also be a convenient cover for hate speech: a flag of convenience under which arms can be taken up against unpopular racial or religious minorities who are already marginalised.
Over the past week, we saw this taken one step further when 'free speech' was used as a justification for shutting down the speech of an opponent — and thereby significantly undermining the virtue of free speech itself.
As is now widely known, Duncan Storrar, an audience member on the popular ABC television program Q&A, pointed out that, as someone with a low income and a disability, he would have benefited much more from the tax benefits offered in the 2016 budget, than those to whom they were actually given (people earning in excess of $80,000 per year). He asked the panel members why he was not deemed as worthy of a tax cut as higher income earners.
As is also known, a torrent of media abuse followed with successive articles in the Murdoch press making allegations about Storrar's tax affairs and his personal and family history.
At the end of last week, Damon Johnston, the editor of the Herald Sun, was questioned by broadcaster John Faine about the ethics of submitting Storrar's life (including details dating back some 15 years) to the sort of scrutiny traditionally reserved for politicians or celebrities. Johnston responded that, 'If you're going to be on the national stage in the middle of an election campaign, it's equally legitimate to have your own past looked at, and that's what we've done.'
This sort of justification is well-established in libel cases against politicians — people who thrust themselves into the limelight cannot then demand privacy, especially not when the matters up for discussion impact on the conduct of politics.
It is hard to see, however, how the peccadillos of politicians can be equated to the private life of a man whose sole foray into politics was, as a member of the general public, to ask a question on a news show which invites questions from the general public.
"This was not about public debate. At no stage were Storrar's questions addressed. The arguments in the Murdoch papers were all ad hominem, playing the