Cuando los comentarios de Jimmy Kimmel vinculando al autor del homicidio de Charlie Kirk con el movimiento MAGA desataron la ira del presidente de la FCC, Brendan Carr, la reacción fue inmediata. Carr calificó las declaraciones de ‘ofensivas e insensibles’ en el pódcast de Benny Johnson y advirtió a las cadenas de que podían ‘resolver la situación por las buenas o por las malas’. Afirmó además que las compañías podían ‘cambiar su conducta y tomar medidas contra Kimmel (…) o habrá más trabajo por delante para la FCC’.

Bajo esta presión, NexStar Media Group, que está a la espera de que la FCC apruebe la licencia que necesita para adquirir a su principal competidora, Tegna, retiró el programa de Kimmel de sus emisoras. Esto llevó a ABC (propiedad de Disney, que intenta adquirir NFL Network y otros activos clave de la NFL) a suspender el programa temporalmente. Sinclair Broadcast Group siguió el mismo camino, citando expresamente las declaraciones de Carr como motivo de su decisión.

La política de la FCC sobre distorsión informativa solo se aplica, por lo general, a casos muy extremos, lo que establece un umbral muy alto. Partiendo este estándar, resultaría prácticamente imposible que Carr pudiera sancionar a las cadenas que emitían a Kimmel. Sin embargo, la mera amenaza de una investigación o el retraso en la tramitación de una fusión empresarial basta para presionar a las emisoras y empujarlas a la obediencia, incentivando la restricción de los derechos amparados por la Primera Enmienda americana de sus presentadores, incluso sin que medie una acción estatal directa.

Aunque es cierto que los programas nocturnos de entretenimiento parecen estar perdiendo popularidad, el contexto en el que se produjo la suspensión de Kimmel revela una relación de causalidad entre las amenazas de Carr y la decisión empresarial, demostrando cómo la amenaza de aplicar la ley de forma selectiva puede traducirse en un potente instrumento de autocensura.

¿Prevé el derecho estadounidense algún remedio legal para estas situaciones? En principio, ABC, como empresa privada, podría suspender o despedir a Kimmel por múltiples razones. La cuestión cobra relevancia constitucional cuando un funcionario público utiliza su cargo para coaccionar a un actor privado con el fin de castigar o suprimir la libertad de expresión. Este fenómeno se conoce como ‘jawboning’ y se define como el uso de declaraciones oficiales para presionar de manera inapropiada a actores privados, o como una forma de presión informal del gobierno que induce indirectamente a la autocensura. En pocas palabras: el Estado no puede conseguir por vía indirecta, mediante presión gubernamental informal, lo que tiene prohibido hacer directamente, principio consagrado en la sentencia Bantam Books v. Sullivan (1963).

Este principio fue reafirmado en la reciente sentencia del Tribunal Supremo Americano National Rifle Association of America v. Maria T. Vullo (2024), que precisó que un funcionario público no puede coaccionar a un particular para que sancione la libertad de expresión de terceros en su nombre. El Tribunal estableció un análisis multifactorial para valorar la existencia de coacción gubernamental informal, teniendo en cuenta la autoridad reguladora del funcionario, el contenido, tono empleado por el funcionario público o la institución y propósito de sus comunicaciones, así como si estas podían interpretarse razonablemente como una amenaza o incitación.

En el caso de Kimmel, las declaraciones abiertamente amenazantes de Carr tienen un peso significativo, pues la FCC supervisa la concesión de licencias de emisión y la aprobación de fusiones. Aunque sus palabras podrían considerarse coercitivas, persisten importantes obstáculos: Kimmel probablemente carece de ‘standing’ (legitimación activa), las cadenas implicadas (NexStar, Sinclair, ABC) no han iniciado litigio alguno y cualquier eventual reparación exigiría imponer obligaciones de libertad de expresión a empresas privadas, algo que los tribunales estadounidenses son reacios a hacer. No obstante, incluso si se superasen los problemas de legitimación y mecanismos de tutela y reparación jurídica, el panorama podría agravarse en el futuro: la administración ha sido tan explícita en su intención de restringir la libertad de expresión que, en adelante, es posible que ya ni siquiera sean necesarias declaraciones concretas para que las cadenas se autocensuren.

Esto se ve claramente ilustrado en el caso Murthy v. Missouri (2024), que pone de relieve la dificultad de probar la existencia de coacción estatal (state action) en ausencia de amenazas explícitas e inequívocas. En este sentido, el caso Kimmel es una clara muestra de los peligros de la aplicación selectiva de la ley y de la presión informal gubernamental, evidenciando cómo las protecciones de la Primera Enmienda americana y el papel más amplio que esta desempeña como mecanismo diagonal de control democrático, pueden verse socavadas incluso sin intervención estatal directa.

Nunca sabremos qué habría ocurrido si el asunto hubiera llegado a los tribunales. A fin de cuentas, Disney rectificó su decisión de suspender a Kimmel tras la fuerte reacción de la ciudadanía y de numerosas voces del sector mediático. Sin embargo, Sinclair Broadcast Group, el mayor propietario de emisoras afiliadas a ABC en Estados Unidos, ha declarado que no emitirá el programa en sus 38 estaciones, y NexStar no ha manifestado intención alguna de reanudar la emisión de Jimmy Kimmel Live! en sus canales afiliados a ABC.

Incluso tras esta victoria (parcial) para los mecanismos diagonales de control democrático, no conviene caer en la complacencia. No es la primera, ni será la última, vez que la aplicación selectiva de la ley y la coacción gubernamental informal empujan a los medios estadounidenses a autocensurarse. Baste recordar el caso, sorprendentemente similar, que implicó a CBS y Stephen Colbert. Además, no deberíamos olvidar la advertencia del propio Carr tras el ‘asunto Kimmel’: ‘esto no acaba aquí’.

El retroceso democrático, con sus múltiples facetas, ha logrado constreñir y cooptar los entornos mediáticos y los espacios cívicos en todo el mundo, desde Venezuela hasta Hungría. Sería un error pensar que las restricciones a la libertad de expresión y de prensa ejercidas por actores privados quedan fuera del ámbito del Derecho constitucional. El asunto Kimmel nos recuerda que, cuando los gobiernos recurren a amenazas veladas en lugar de acciones legales directas, pueden transformar a las instituciones privadas en instrumentos del poder ejecutivo, y eso convierte sus actos, sin duda, en una cuestión de la más absoluta relevancia constitucional.

Part 1 here

El ‘Deterioro’ o ‘retroceso’ democrático, definido por Nancy Bermeo como ‘la merma o destrucción de las instituciones que constituyen los pilares fundamentales de la democracia’, se ha convertido en un fenómeno global. Se trata de una estrategia especialmente insidiosa porque suele desplegarse bajo una fachada democrática mediante ataques sistemáticos a las instituciones, procesos y mecanismos democráticos, cuyo efecto acumulativo produce una erosión persistente y difícil de revertir. Estados Unidos es una de las jurisdicciones que ha sucumbido a este fenómeno.

Los agentes del retroceso democrático emplean una pluralidad de tácticas jurídicas e institucionales destinadas a liberar al poder ejecutivo de los contrapesos que lo limitan y a consolidar la permanencia de los gobernantes en el poder. A este fenómeno se le ha denominado expansión del poder ejecutivo (executive aggrandisement), y se manifiesta fundamentalmente a través de la erosión de los mecanismos de control democrático, también denominados mecanismos de rendición de cuentas.

Cuando hablamos de mecanismos de control democrático del ejecutivo (accountability mechanisms), nos referimos al conjunto de instituciones, procesos y herramientas que permiten el control efectivo del poder ejecutivo, impidiendo así su uso abusivo. Estos mecanismos pueden clasificarse en tres grupos: verticales, horizontales y diagonales.

Por un lado, se encuentran los mecanismos de control verticales, que incluyen las elecciones multipartidistas mediante las cuales la ciudadanía elige a sus gobernantes. Los mecanismos de control horizontales engloban todos aquellos mecanismos y contrapesos legislativos, como las preguntas parlamentarias o la moción de censura, así como una pluralidad de instituciones estatales independientes, tales como los tribunales de justicia y las comisiones electorales. Finalmente, los mecanismos diagonales son ejercidos por la prensa y la sociedad civil.

La prensa desempeña una labor esencial como guardiana de la democracia: al informar a la ciudadanía de los abusos de poder, amplificar las voces disidentes y ofrecer plataformas ideológicas plurales en torno a las cuales la ciudadanía puede organizarse y movilizarse, impidiendo que quienes detentan el poder puedan abusar de él con impunidad.

Las estrategias que los agentes del retroceso democrático emplean para erosionar los mecanismos de control se retroalimentan y resultan más eficaces cuando varias de ellas actúan en sintonía. Un buen ejemplo de ello es la estrecha relación entre la captura institucional (institutional capture) y la aplicación selectiva de la ley (selective enforcement).

Por captura institucional entendemos el proceso mediante el cual los agentes del retroceso democrático, desde el poder ejecutivo, consiguen someter bajo su control a una institución independiente mediante el nombramiento de individuos adeptos al régimen en sus puestos directivos. Estos individuos, seleccionados por su disposición a seguir ciegamente las decisiones del ejecutivo y su falta de compromiso con la democracia, tienen incentivos suficientes para utilizar sus potestades normativas, regulatorias y ejecutivas en beneficio del gobierno y en perjuicio de instituciones independientes, la oposición política y la sociedad civil.

Cuando la institución capturada interpreta la normativa vigente de modo que traiciona su espíritu y la emplea como arma contra voces disidentes o incómodas al régimen, hablamos de aplicación selectiva de la ley. Que la ley pueda ser empleada de forma selectiva en contra de sujetos privados genera incentivos para que estos actores privados se auto-censuren o censuren a aquellos bajo su cargo. En definitiva, la captura institucional y la aplicación selectiva de la ley son déficits de independencia y profesionalidad (malfunctions) de los mecanismos de control horizontal manufacturados por el ejecutivo, que tienen consecuencias desastrosas para los individuos o entidades que se encuentran bajo su ámbito competencial.

No resulta difícil apreciar cómo un déficit en la institución encargada de regular el entorno mediático puede tener consecuencias devastadoras para la libertad de prensa. La cancelación del programa estadounidense Jimmy Kimmel Live! tras las amenazas formuladas por el Director de la Comisión Federal de Comunicaciones constituye un caso paradigmático de este fenómeno.

Para profundizar en el análisis jurídico del ‘asunto Kimmel’, es preciso explicar cómo se estructura el entorno mediático estadounidense y repasar la legislación vigente. La FCC es una agencia federal independiente con poderes reguladores y ejecutivos, así como con competencias limitadas para investigar el contenido de la programación televisiva.

Entre otros poderes, la FCC ostenta potestad reguladora y de concesión de licencias de emisión (broadcast licenses). Tiene la capacidad de denegar o posponer indefinidamente la concesión de nuevas licencias, que son necesarias para llevar a cabo adquisiciones y fusiones empresariales de medios de comunicación. El artículo 326 de la Ley de Comunicaciones de 1934 (Communications Act of 1934) prohíbe expresamente que esta agencia estatal utilice sus poderes como instrumento de censura o de manera que vulnere el derecho a la libertad de expresión de los medios de comunicación.

El entorno empresarial que rodea a los medios de comunicación en Estados Unidos es particularmente volátil, de ahí que los medios de comunicación o empresas matrices tengan fuertes incentivos para crecer mediante adquisiciones y fusiones. La denegación o el retraso indefinido de una licencia puede tener consecuencias devastadoras para una empresa propietaria e, incluso, marcar la diferencia entre la supervivencia y el colapso empresarial. Por ello, las compañías procuran mantener una buena relación con la FCC, algo que no resulta especialmente difícil cuando sus directivos actúan de forma independiente y conforme a los procedimientos establecidos. Sin embargo, la situación cambia radicalmente cuando un presidente comprometido con una agenda antidemocrática nombra como directivos a sus seguidores más radicales.

La junta directiva de la Comisión está compuesta por cinco comisarios elegidos por el Presidente del ejecutivo y confirmados por el Senado. El 28 de junio de 2025, Brendan Carr, conocido fiel seguidor del Presidente Donald Trump y autor del capítulo relativo a la Comisión Federal de Comunicaciones en el ‘Proyecto 2025’ (Project 2025) fue nombrado Director de la Comisión. A fecha de publicación de este escrito, la directiva de la Comisión cuenta con tres miembros, de los cuales dos de ellos son Republicanos, incluyendo a Carr. Estos tres comisarios conforman el quórum actual, de manera que el partido republicano tiene una mayoría de 2–1 en esta institución.

Desde el inicio de su mandato, la manera partisana en que Carr ha ejercitado su poder desde la Comisión ha sido objeto de crítica por parte de ex-comisarios de todos los colores políticos. La orientación partidista de la FCC quedó definitivamente consolidada cuando Carr puso a Jimmy Kimmel en su punto de mira y amenazó con tomar represalias contra las compañías que emitían su programa. Su eficacia como herramienta del poder ejecutivo se hizo manifiesta cuando las emisoras anunciaron la cancelación del programa.

Para comprender por qué este asunto es de la más absoluta relevancia constitucional, analizaremos en la segunda parte de este blog cómo la táctica consistente en aplicar la ley de forma selectiva puede funcionar como un efectivo instrumento de censura estatal.

Part 2 here

When Kimmel’s comments linking a recent shooter to the MAGA movement drew FCC Chairman Carr’s ire, the backlash was swift. Chairman Carr called them ‘offensive and insensitive’ on the Benny Johnson podcast and warned networks that they could handle the situation ‘the easy way or the hard way,’ and stated that companies could either ‘change conduct and take action on Kimmel (…) or there is going to be additional work for the FCC ahead.’ Under this pressure, NexStar Media Group — which is seeking FCC approval to acquire major competitor Tegna — pulled Kimmel from its stations. This prompted ABC (owned by Disney, which is trying to acquire NFL Network and other key NFL assets) to suspend the show temporarily. Sinclair Broadcast Group followed suit, explicitly citing Carr’s remarks as the reason for their decision.

The FCC’s policy on Broadcast News Distortion typically only applies in cases of ‘mere inaccuracy and errors stemming from mistakes,’ setting a very high bar for enforcement. Under this standard, it would be extremely difficult for Carr to target stations airing Kimmel. However, the mere threat of an investigation or a delay in reviewing a merger can be enough to pressure stations into compliance, encouraging them to curtail First Amendment rights of their talent, even in the absence of any formal action. While it is true that late-night shows seem to be declining in popularity, the timing of Kimmel’s suspension reveals a causal link between Carr’s threat and the company’s decision, demonstrating how threats of selective enforcement can act as a powerful tool for self-censorship.

Does U.S. law provide any legal recourse for these situations? ABC, as a private company, could technically suspend or fire Kimmel for many reasons. The critical legal question arises when a government official uses their position to coerce a private party into punishing or suppressing disfavoured speech. This concept is known as ‘jawboning’, defined as the use of official speech to inappropriately compel private actors, or as informal government pressure that indirectly induces self-censorship. Simply put, the government cannot accomplish indirectly what it is forbidden from doing directly, a principle established in Bantam Books v. Sullivan (1963).

This principle was reaffirmed in the 2024 Supreme Court case National Rifle Association of America v. Maria T. Vullo, which clarified that a government official cannot coerce a private party to punish disfavoured speech on their behalf. The Court laid out a multi-factor test to assess coercion, including the official’s regulatory authority; the content, tone, and purpose of their communications; and whether the communications could reasonably be understood as a threat or inducement.

In Kimmel’s case, Carr’s explicitly threatening comments carry real weight because he oversees broadcast licenses and merger approvals. While his statements could be seen as coercive, significant obstacles remain: Kimmel himself likely lacks standing, the networks (NexStar, Sinclair, ABC) have not pursued litigation, and any remedy would require imposing speech obligations on private companies, which courts are hesitant to enforce. However, even if standing and remedial issues could be overcome, the situation may worsen in the future, since the administration has been so clear in its intention to curtail speech that, in the future, no specific declaration may be necessary for networks to self-censor.

This is aptly illustrated by the case Murthy v. Missouri (2024), which highlights the difficulty of proving ‘state action’ in the absence of clear and unmistakable threats. In this sense, the Kimmel case accurately illustrates the dangers of selective enforcement and informal government pressure, demonstrating how First Amendment protections, and the broader role they play in ensuring accountability within a democracy, can be undermined even without direct governmental action.

We will never know what could have happened in a court setting. After all, Disney backtracked in its decision to suspend Kimmel after persistent backlash from civil society and multiple voices within the media sector. However, Sinclair Broadcast Group, the largest owner of ABC stations in the U.S., has declared it still would not air the show on its 38 ABC affiliate stations, and NexStar has not indicated any plans to resume airing Jimmy Kimmel Live! on its ABC-affiliated stations.

Even after this win for diagonal accountability, we should not get too comfortable. This is neither the first nor the last time that coercive selective enforcement has pushed U.S. media companies to self-censor. Consider the strikingly similar case involving CBS and Stephen Colbert, and let’s not forget FCC Chairman Carr’s post-Kimmel warning: ‘we are not done yet’.

Democratic backsliding and its many faces have effectively constricted and coopted media landscapes and civic spaces around the globe, from Venezuela to Hungary. It would be a mistake to think that private actors curtailing free speech and press freedom are outside the purview of public law. The Kimmel episode reminds us that when governments rely on broad threats rather than formal legal action, they can bend private institutions into vehicles of executive power, and that makes their actions every bit as much a public law concern.

LINK TO PART I HERE

Democratic backsliding, defined by Nancy Bermeo as ‘state-led debilitation or elimination of any of the political institutions that sustain an existing democracy’, has become a widespread global phenomenon. Backsliding is a particularly insidious strategy for dismantling democracy because it often involves systematic attacks on democratic institutions, processes, and mechanisms, which accumulate over time to produce enduring democratic erosion. The United States is one of the jurisdictions falling into this trend.

Democratic backsliders deploy a myriad of legal and institutional tactics to unbind the executive from institutional constraints and entrench themselves in power: this is what is often referred to as executive aggrandisement. Executive aggrandisement is achieved through the erosion of accountability mechanisms.

Accountability mechanisms can be classified in three broad categories: vertical (exercised by the people via elections), horizontal (which includes legislative and executive checks and balances, and a variety of elected and appointed institutions, including the political opposition, the judiciary, and fourth-branch institutions), and diagonal (the civic space and the media). In particular, the media, including political commentary and satire, serve as a key democratic safeguard: they expose abuses of power, amplify dissent, and create rallying points around which civil society can organize.

Backsliding strategies feed on each other, becoming most powerful when deployed in combination. An apt example is the relationship between institutional capture and selective enforcement. Institutional capture occurs when an institution is packed with loyalists, who then have strong incentives to apply legislation and exercise their decision-making powers in ways that favour incumbents while punishing the opposition and dissenters. When captured institutions wield regulatory and decision-making powers in a way that respects the letter of the law but violates its spirit to punish opponents, they produce what the International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance refers to as selective enforcement.

Awareness of selective enforcement can, in turn, push private actors within the captured institution’s reach toward censorship and self-censorship. In short, institutional co-optation and selective enforcement are engineered malfunctions of the horizontal accountability branch, with disastrous consequences for the media as a vital pillar of diagonal accountability. Disney’s suspension of Jimmy Kimmel Live! after FCC Chairman Carr’s threatening remarks is an apt illustration of this phenomenon.

To understand the Kimmel case, it is essential to understand the relevant legal framework and the idiosyncrasies of the U.S. media sector. The FCC is an independent U.S. federal government agency with regulatory, enforcement, and investigative powers and (limited) public interest oversight over the content of programming. It has the broadest authority over broadcast radio and over-the-air TV.

FCC powers include the regulation and granting of broadcast licenses. The FCC has the capacity to deny (or sit indefinitely on the decision on granting) new licenses. New licenses are required for mergers and acquisitions. Article 326 of the Communications Act of 1934 forbids the FCC from censoring or in other way infringing on the broadcaster’s free speech. Pursuant to these legal mandates, the FCC has long held that the public interest is best served by permitting free expression of views.

The US media landscape is volatile, and companies are incentivised to grow via mergers and acquisitions to survive and thrive in a highly competitive market. The FCC’s refusal to grant a license, or its decision to delay indefinitely, can have devastating financial consequences for parent companies and media networks. Maintaining good relations with the FCC is straightforward when the agency acts as an independent regulator; however, the situation changes dramatically when the President packs it with zealous loyalists.

The FCC is directed by five commissioners appointed by the President and confirmed by the Senate for five-year terms. On June 28th, 2025, Brendan Carr, a well-known Trump loyalist and author for the FCC chapter on ‘Project 2025’, was appointed as Chair of the FCC. At the time of this blog’s publication, the agency has two republican commissioners, including Carr as Chair, and one democrat commissioner. The sitting commissioners constitute the current quorum, with Republicans holding a 2–1 majority.

From the get-go, Carr’s partisan leadership has faced strong bipartisan condemnation by former FCC commissioners. This partisan transformation of the FCC became glaringly evident to the general public when he directly targeted Jimmy Kimmel, and networks quickly folded under the weight of his threats. To understand why this matter is of utmost public law relevance, we must look at how the backsliding tactic of selective enforcement can serve as a powerful tool for self-censorship, which I explore in Part 2 of this blog.

LINK TO PART II HERE

The facts are grimly familiar. Johannesburg’s persistent housing crisis has led to so-called “hijacked buildings”: properties being unlawfully occupied, often in uninhabitable conditions, with the City of Johannesburg (the City) failing to provide alternative accommodation for residents despite court orders requiring it to do so. This issue was devastatingly highlighted by the Usindiso building fire in August 2023, which killed 76 people and prompted a Commission of Inquiry into the conditions of inner-city buildings and the institutional failures that enable them.

This particular case arises from a 2012 court order directing the City to provide temporary alternative accommodation to 249 residents unlawfully occupying a 11-storey building owned by the plaintiff company in the inner-city so that an eviction could proceed. Years passed. The City repeatedly failed to comply with valid court orders. Eventually, the City provided accommodation in 2016, three years after its original deadline. The City argued that it had made offers of accommodation, but they were found inadequate by the residents – some required gender segregation, or offered insufficient beds. In the interim, the occupiers remained, and the building’s commercial owner eventually brought a claim to be heard under the commercial court rules. The company argued that the City’s failure simultaneously harmed the company’s right to property and the residents’ already precarious right to access adequate housing. This argument framed these rights as being intertwined, rather than in opposition: the company and the residents share an interest in holding the state accountable for its systemic failures.

The High Court (Mahosi J) agreed and upheld the company’s delictual claim, finding that the City’s failure to provide accommodation in line with the earlier court order was unlawful, and that the City is liable for the company’s economic loss of rental income to the tune of over R12 million. This is a notable shift: traditionally, South Africa’s delictual (tort) law is reluctant to recognise claims for pure economic loss, and is doubly cautious where the loss stems from an omission (failure to act). Previously, the Constitutional Court warned that recognising these claims could open the floodgates to indeterminate liability, with the wrongfulness enquiry typically serving as a dam against liability. In Changing Tides, conversely, the High Court found the City’s omission to be unlawful. That finding relies on heavy normative lifting: it suggests that the state’s ongoing failure to comply with court orders and fulfil the right to housing can, in certain circumstances, ground private law claims for economic loss.

This remedial shift is particularly noteworthy given recent, regrettable, judgments that declined to award constitutional damages (that is, a remedy sounding in damages for the breach of a constitutional right) despite protracted state inaction, leaving housing rights claimants without effective remedy. Where constitutional damages have been constrained by this jurisprudence, delict may now emerge as an alternative channel, though not without conceptual strain.

The judgment also complicates how we understand the role of private actors in the constitutional scheme. The South African Constitution anticipates that, in appropriate circumstances, private entities bear duties to realise fundamental rights. The question is no longer whether private actors bear constitutional obligations to realise fundamental rights, but how far these extend and in what contexts, with much of the work lying in determining the appropriate weight to be accorded to competing rights. Changing Tides, then, extends the jurisprudence of Blue Moonlight, where the Constitutional Court recognised that commercial property owners must sometimes be “patient” and continue to provide housing to occupiers until the state fulfils its housing obligations. Changing Tides now suggests that this patience has limits. The judgment also challenges the narrative that pits socioeconomic rights against commercial interests, and instead emphasises the ultimate obligations of the state. In that sense, the judgment may say less about expanding horizontal duties than about ratcheting up pressure on the state.

But this in turn raises troubling questions about remedial priorities and resource constraints. Should public funds be directed to compensate a company — especially when the company may have purchased the building aware of the risk? The outcome in Changing Tides is especially striking. A commercial property owner is awarded substantial damages, while in other cases – involving vulnerable residents left without recourse after years of state failure – the Constitutional Court has refused compensation altogether, often citing the unsustainable fiscal implications for the state. This disparity is all the more jarring given stark economic inequalities, and the shared backdrop of chronic state non-compliance. The judgment, too, throws into sharp relief the tension between backwards-looking, corrective aims and forwards-looking distributive ones: between redressing loss suffered by one party, and ensuring the state can meet its obligations towards all.

This case also represents another wave in the judiciary’s attempts to navigate state dysfunction. Courts have used structural interdicts, contempt orders, and now, potentially, delictual damages. Whether delict is the right doctrinal vehicle for these purposes remains a live question, especially given previous precedent that when a private owner cannot execute an eviction order due to state failure, this may amount to an expropriation requiring compensation.

Currently being appealed, the judgment’s reasoning will face close scrutiny which may limit its prospects as precedent and with it, the broader implications for municipalities nationwide. The fundamental challenge remains: how to craft remedial doctrines that effectively incentivise state compliance in the face of undeniable misconduct, while acknowledging fiscal constraints and avoiding remedies that, perversely, may jeopardise the realisation of socioeconomic rights. Ultimately, whether Changing Tides signals a tidal shift or a passing ripple remains to be seen.

Social Media: A Double-Edged Sword in Warfare

In today’s digital age, social media has become an indispensable tool, capable of both uniting individuals behind a cause and disseminating disinformation. Throughout Russia’s ongoing conflict with Ukraine, platforms like Telegram have facilitated communication, coordinated actions, and informed the public. However, platforms also act as conduits for propaganda and misinformation, influencing public opinion and potentially exacerbating conflicts.

Telegram, in particular, has attracted attention due to its extensive user base and relatively lenient regulation. Its encryption capabilities and the facility to create large groups make it an ideal medium for secure communications. However, these features also present significant challenges in controlling the spread of harmful content, including hate speech, propaganda, and incitements to violence.

The Public’s Growing Focus: From Fraud to Warfare

With the public increasingly discussing the role of platforms in organised crime and fraud, especially in the context of Durov’s case, a new and pressing issue is set to emerge: what can be done about the role of social media platforms in contemporary wars? Naturally, the implications of Durov’s arrest extend beyond fraud and organised crime; they underscore broader concerns about the responsibilities of social media companies amidst international conflicts.

Legal Implications of Durov’s Arrest

Durov’s arrest foregrounds crucial questions regarding the accountability of social media companies for the content they host. Under international criminal law, specifically under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, aiding and abetting a crime with knowledge of its occurrence constitutes a criminal offence. This can mean that if platforms like Telegram are found to have knowingly facilitated crimes of warfare or other serious offences, they could be held accountable under international law.

Telegram’s Role in the Ukraine War

In Ukraine, Telegram has served as both a tool for humanitarian support and a platform for Russian propaganda. The Ukrainian government and volunteer groups have utilised Telegram for coordinating humanitarian aid and evacuations, highlighting its utility in crisis situations. Conversely, Russian-backed entities have used Telegram to spread disinformation and coordinate actions against Ukrainian interests.

Future Steps for Global Accountability

The arrest of Pavel Durov could serve as a catalyst for international bodies to reassess the role of social media in conflict and governance and address some of the difficult questions raised above. The worrying role of social media in warfare highlights the urgent need for an international framework that delineates the responsibilities of social media platforms in conflict zones. Such frameworks could involve clearer guidelines on content moderation, the role of encryption in protecting user privacy, and the legal obligations of social media companies under international law.

Moreover, the role of social media in warfare calls for a broader discussion about the governance of these companies. When executives wield significant control over platforms that play key roles in global events, the question of personal responsibility becomes even more pressing. Establishing accountability is not just about addressing the content that spreads on these platforms but also about scrutinising the business structures that enable or prevent such content from flourishing.

Conclusion

The role of social media in international conflicts is set to become a critical issue in the public consciousness. Durov’s case presents an opportunity to prompt a reevaluation of how these platforms are used and regulated worldwide. For global justice and security, establishing a balance between freedom of expression and preventing the facilitation of crimes through social media is imperative. This balance is crucial not only for the integrity of international law but also for protecting democratic values and human rights in the digital age.

Durov’s arrest may be the first step in a broader movement towards holding social media executives accountable—not just for national crimes, but for their platforms’ roles in international crimes, including warfare and crimes against humanity. The world is watching, and the subsequent collective steps could shape the future of global social media governance.

The Protection of Individuals’ HIV Status under the Right to Private Life

Under Article 8(1) of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), all individuals have the right to respect for their private life. The European Court of Human Rights’ (ECtHR) case law makes clear that the processing of an individual’s HIV status as data falls within Article 8(1). Generally, the Court has established that the collection, storage and disclosure of ‘highly sensitive personal data’ falls under Article 8(1) (Surikov v Ukraine, [75]). In both PT v Moldova and OG v Greece, the Court assessed alleged violations of Article 8(1) where individuals’ HIV status had been disclosed.

The disclosure of an individual’s HIV status is only compatible with the right to private life where the interference pursues a legitimate aim, was done in accordance with domestic law, and is necessary in a democratic society, in accordance with Article 8(2). The Court considers data protection to be of ‘fundamental importance for the effective exercise’ of the right to private life, therefore States’ margin of appreciation for determining whether the disclosure pursues a legitimate aim is limited (PT v Moldova, [27]). The PT judgment suggests that, in the HIV context, it is only where an individual’s HIV status poses health risks that a disclosure of that status could serve a legitimate aim (PT v Moldova, [29]). Even when a measure serves such a legitimate aim, the Court will closely scrutinise the necessity of the disclosure. In OG, the Greek authorities published the names, photographs, and HIV-positive status of several sex workers. Although the Court accepted that the measure served the legitimate aim of the protection of the rights and freedoms of others – insofar as the disclosure would encourage sex workers’ clients to undergo HIV testing – the Court affirmed that the disclosure of such information without an individual’s consent can only be reconciled with Article 8(1) where it defends an overriding public interest (OG v Greece, [149], [153]). The Court was not satisfied that the disclosure could achieve the legitimate aim identified, noting that no other measures had been considered which could expose the sex workers’ data to a lesser extent (OG v Greece, [155]-[156]).

ECHR Implications of the Grindr Litigation

Grindr is not a public body: its actions are not attributable to a State under the ECHR, nor does the UK’s Human Rights Act 1998 require the company to protect ECHR rights. However, it is crystal clear that if a public body disclosed individuals’ HIV status without consent for commercial purposes, this would violate Article 8 ECHR.

There have been creative attempts by some national courts to enable litigation against companies for violations of international law, most notably the Canadian Supreme Court’s decision in Nevsun v Araya. However, without reinventing the wheel, the ECHR may indirectly allow for Grindr to be held to account for violating Article 8. The ECHR does not simply require States to desist from violating ECHR rights – States are also under positive obligations to protect those rights (see Council of Europe Human Rights Handbook No. 7, pp 5-6). Although positive obligations are clearest in other ECHR rights, particularly Article 2’s right to life (see, e.g., Osman v UK, [115]; McCann v UK, [202]-[214]), such obligations have also been recognized in cases of third party interference with the right to private life. In Beizaras and Levickas v Lithuania, the Court accepted that Article 8 may require the adoption of measures ‘in the sphere of relations between individuals’ to protect the right to private life. In that case, Lithuania’s failure to take effective measures to investigate homophobic hate speech against a gay couple violated Article 8(1) in combination with Article 14’s prohibition on the discriminatory enjoyment of ECHR rights ([110], [129]-[130]).

In a similar vein, if the UK courts’ application and interpretation of the UK GDPR fails to sanction Grindr for the disclosure of users’ HIV status, the UK may find itself before the ECtHR for having failed to protect those users’ rights to their private lives under Article 8(1). Hopefully, if the applicants’ case is proven, in accordance with their duties under the Human Rights Act 1998 to take account of ECtHR decisions, and interpret legislation in accordance with ECHR rights, the British courts will award an appropriate remedy against Grindr and underscore that the misuse of personal health data for commercial purposes is unacceptable.