When privacy, power, and porn allegations collide in the highest office of law enforcement — with a side of Kafka
John Bowie, LawFuel publisher
Former Deputy Police Commissioner Jevon McSkimming sought a superinjunction to suppress media reporting on allegations of child exploitation and bestiality content found on his work devices. His lawyer? Ex-journalist and TVNZ director Linda Clark — now accusing the press of “leaks” and defending a suppression order so secret, we weren’t even supposed to know it existed.
A superinjunction courtesy of a former media luminary. What next? A florist shop from Ardie Savea? One of New Zealand’s most powerful cops, a man once shortlisted to run the whole force, (almost certainly if Labour had won the last election) resigns in May under a stinking cloud of investigations. And not just your average bureaucratic shuffles of illegally accessing info on you neighbour’s previous’s, but, as we now know, allegedly involving child exploitation and bestiality material found on his work computers.
We may expect this sort of thing from BBC ‘talent’, but a top cop?
Naturally, the press started sniffing around and boom: Enter the Superinjunction.
This is the unicorn of New Zealand law. The one where not only is the media banned from reporting on the case, but also banned from saying there’s a ban. An injunction so hush-hush it makes Witness Protection look like a TikTok livestream.
And who led this crusade for enforced silence? Linda Clark the once fearless defender of press openness-turned Dentons Power Lawyer and – it seems – Superinjunction adherent.
But it’s not as if Linda Clark has forsaken her media roots given that she is a Labour-appointed director of TVNZ (courtesy of that bastion of free speech, Willie Jackson).
She has made a full metamorphosis from watchdog to media wrangler, accused the media of leaking confidential police info and jeopardizing the investigation.
It’s hard not to admire the irony. Or the audacity.
A (Very Brief) History of Superinjunctions: Who Actually Uses These Things?
Let’s be clear: superinjunctions in New Zealand are like UFO sightings, rare, murky, and almost always denied. But when they do show up, it’s usually because someone powerful wants something very embarrassing to stay very hidden.
Take Trafigura in the UK the global commodity firm tried to gag The Guardian from reporting on a toxic waste dumping scandal. Or Ryan Giggs, who tried to erase his extracurriculars using a court order, until Twitter and Parliament blew it open.
Back here in New Zealand, we’ve had a few brushes with the super-invisible ink pad. Like the 2018 Law Society panic-suppression when they sent harassment complaint info to the wrong person. Or the 2023 Herald saga, where a literal mystery man sought an injunction so secret, even the defendant didn’t know who he was.
Justice Christian Whata called that “inconceivable.” No kidding.
Clark v Media: The Plot Twists
Clark told the court that every time police handed over material to McSkimming, it “magically” appeared in the media a day or two later. Her conclusion? Leak. Her solution was a total lockdown – just like in the Jacinda era and about as draconian.
Forget open justice — we’re on a need-to-know basis, and apparently, nobody needs to know.
But here’s the thing: police themselves didn’t object to media coverage of the material. And the court eventually agreed. Justice Karen Grau (pictured, a Chapman Tripp alumnus like Linda Clark) denied McSkimming’s bid to keep the content hidden, even though the reasons for her decision are, you guessed it, suppressed.
In the meantime, Clark’s logic veered into the realm of the Orwellian — or perhaps Kafkaesque, if we’re feeling literary. “The information is confidential, but the public interest has been served,” she argued.
Translation: We’ll decide when you’ve had enough truth, thanks very much.
What’s At Stake: More Than Just a PR Meltdown
| What Happened | Why It Matters |
|---|---|
| Superinjunction granted, then partially lifted | A court tried to erase the public’s right to know — that matters. |
| Clark represents top cop, slams media | A media figure-turned-lawyer muzzling press freedom? That’s a problem. |
| Serious criminal allegations buried by secrecy | The allegations aren’t salacious gossip — they’re criminal. |
| Police INFOSEC review exposes tech failures | If senior cops were accessing illegal material, how many others could too? |
Open Justice Can’t Be Conditional on Embarrassment
Superinjunctions, if they must exist, should be like nuclear launch codes: used only when there’s no other option, and only with extreme caution.
The UK got this memo in 2011, when Lord Neuberger’s committee warned against the creeping trend of courts enabling “privacy by default” for the rich, powerful, and morally compromised.
New Zealand? We’re just catching up and not in a good way.
This isn’t about embarrassing someone in office. It’s about accountability. About the right of the public to know when the system especially its most senior enforcers is potentially rotting from within.
And while Linda Clark may believe the media have overstepped, many in the profession would say: thank god they did.
Because if we rely on quiet exits and legal fog to cover stories like this, then we’re not protecting justice — we’re burying it.
Interesting piece, John Bowie. The use of superinjunctions to suppress information about potentially criminal activities raises questions about balance. Is the intention to protect the innocent until proven guilty, or to shield the powerful? The tech involved in uncovering the alleged material is often more advanced than what’s used to keep it under wraps. Shouldn’t oversight be a priority?
I’m puzzled about Linda Clark’s role here. Was it really necessary to go for a superinjunction? This seems a bit extreme for a democratic society. Is the law being bent to serve the interests of the few? Would love to hear others’ thoughts on this.
SallyQ, good point. This raises so many red flags about transparency and justice. It’s like, who do these superinjunctions actually serve? Definitely not the public.
Superinjunctions have always been contentious. The fact that they’re rare doesn’t make them any less concerning, especially in cases involving public officials. The justification for their use needs rigorous scrutiny, else we’re all at risk of misuse in the name of privacy.
Ah yes, the super-secret superinjunction. Because nothing screams ‘innocent’ like trying to hide everything from the public eye. What’s next? Invisible cloaks? Thanks for shedding light on this, John Bowie.
The moral implications of superinjunctions, especially in a case as severe as this, are vast. While privacy is a right, where do we draw the line when it comes to potential crimes? An ethical dilemma, indeed.
Superinjunctions: because why deal with your problems head-on when you can just pay to make them go away? Must be nice to have that option. How about a chapter on that for the next crime thriller, hmm?
Honestly, it’s just another day in the world where the rich and powerful play by their own rules. Nothing new, but still disappointing every single time. The rest of us? Well, we just live in their world, don’t we?
The existence and use of superinjunctions point to a deeper issue within our society’s structures. It’s not just about privacy or embarrassment; it’s about who has the power to manipulate these concepts to their favor. A thought-provoking discussion indeed.
It’s articles like these that remind us why journalism matters. Shedding light on the shadows, no matter who it might scare. Props to John Bowie for not letting this slide into the darkness.