Who has the right to tell the public what it should and should not know? And how can they decide what is and is not in the public interest? Hugh Grant and Steve Coogan have no more right to dictate the terms of freedom of expression than you or I.
Politics needs the press. The press needs politics. Such a marriage is essential, however, when one cheats, the other seeks revenge.
We don't believe Westminster politics is broken beyond repair. We are pro-politics and pro-people. We believe we can help mend the gap between parliament and the country. And we believe the National Conversation is the way to do it.
Cameron has publically recognized the failures of the media sector but has been careful to remain ambivalent as to how far he would be willing to go to prevent the media abusing information available to them.
You could be forgiven this week for thinking there was nothing more important going on in the world than the unveiling of semi-nude photos of the Duchess of Cambridge. On one side of the world, our future queen kept a never fading, gracious smile fixed for the cameras, as her nine-day tour of the Far East and South Pacific came to an end. On the other, her lawyers, magazine editors, media commentators and every one in-between had their say on the rights and wrongs of publishing the now infamous topless snaps.
But, what about the internet, I hear you cry? Kate's topless photos have shot around the world. Doesn't this make an utter nonsense of press regulation, statutory or non-statutory? And isn't it unfair to put newspapers, already in a dodgy financial state, at a commercial disadvantage by not being able to publish content widely available online? There are no easy answers. But, unless you want to dispense with regulation altogether, to give newspapers an automatic right to reproduce anything they fancy from the internet surely cannot be justified.
Sociologists from the University of Central Lancashire and La Trobe University, Australia, argue in a recent study of the tragedy, that the singular word 'mind' over its plural 'minds', reveals a collective solidarity which is uniquely Liverpool.
Step forward the No More Page Three campaign, which has recently exploded onto a laptop near you. It has already received thousands of comments from its signatories explaining why they have signed. They range from simple statements, such as ''Because boobs aren't news", to more disturbing ones like, "no male friends who look at these pictures say 'I respect her'"...
The ordeals imposed by police on journalists and their families caught up in the phone hacking investigations are unnecessary and disgraceful. And please do remember, we're talking about journalists here, not hardened villains with criminal records as long as their arm. Yet that is how they and their families are being treated in scenes the Stasi would be proud of. Yes, police must investigate all allegations of crime equally without fear or favour, but there simply IS a difference between dealing with a hardened criminal and a middle-class middle-aged white-collar journalist.
I could make a strong argument that, by inviting to his suite a large gaggle of girls, most, if not all, of whom were strangers, Harry compromised his own privacy. There has been undue focus on the photos. They are but the icing - rich and delicious, it has to be said - on the cake.
Poor Prince Harry. He stepped straight out of his clothes and into a furore about badly behaved royals, the strangulation of the press and the stripping of his title; and it's all because he got a little wild in Las Vegas.
Although the first stage of the inquiry was just about to end, Lord Justice Leveson said: 'For me and for the team, however, we have only just started.' The second stage will continue once all police matters have been completed, but a first report will be released before the end of 2012. The rotten apple which dropped from its tree has bounced, rolled and spread its seed across the country to grow forests full of rotten apples.
London's most important event, Gay Pride, was on last Saturday but Rupert Murdoch's The Sun dedicated just 57 words to it. Instead, on the opposite side, they published a full-page 'interview' with a woman who "can't hear telly" because her neighbour, Susan Boyle, sings too loudly.
It lasted little more than two minutes and, like the best News of the World splashes, was executed with brutal finality. Without any warning, we were called from our desks to the centre of the newsroom where Rebekah Brooks was waiting for us with our editor Colin Myler alongside her.
David Cameron must have thought that by bringing Leveson into existence, he had successfully dodged having to deal with furious requests for a crack-down on the tabloid press. But, almost a year later, the inquiry has turned into a Frankenstein's monster.