LEADING ARTICLE: Barrymore and the chalk line

Now here's a strange thing. On the front pages of Britain's popular press the personal life of the entertainer Michael Barrymore has assumed more importance than war, drought, plague and famine. But the letters pages are full of ordinary Barrymore fans saying that they are uninterested in and unaffected by the revelations about him. And here's another strange thing. Sensitive police enquiries into a lead about the Rachel Nickell murder case have not been kept quiet - details of allegations about a man in New Zealand have found their way to the pages of most tabloids, despite the fact that such reporting could prejudice any future case. But the strangest thing of all is that none of this is strange.

The case of Michael Barrymore is a classic of its kind. There is no public "need to know" whether Barrymore is gay, alcoholic, Buddhist or vegan. His act has always been based on a sympathy for people, and a gentle comedy. He does not make gay jokes, or condemn the unhappily married. He is not any kind of arbiter of other people's morality. Nevertheless, for more than three weeks newspapers have vied with each other to reveal his unhappiness. His marriage is blazoned as a "10-year sham" and his gayness lampooned with "Strike It Ducky".

If the hounding of Barrymore seems unnecessary both in tone and content, the issues raised by the Nickell story are even more serious. Only last month Lisa and Michelle Taylor lost their action to have contempt proceedings brought against several newspapers for prejudicial coverage of their trial for murder (they were acquitted). But the ruling was given because the Attorney General had found it impossible to single out any one newspaper for criticism. Too many had sinned.

Yet this week the unsubstantiated claims of a former addict, made three years after Rachel's murder, have led to reporters hounding a named man in New Zealand, informing his new family of his criminal record and suggesting strongly that he may be a murderer - and all before he has even been interviewed by the police. If he were ever charged he would have a strong case for arguing that he was unlikely to receive a fair trial. If he is not charged, his life could well have been severely damaged anyway. And for what?

All newspapers, including this one, are in the business of finding out things which someone more often than not wishes to remain hidden; where the boundary of legitimate inquiry ends is a matter of judgement. The Press Complaints Commission, which today makes its annual report, is the industry's and, for now at least, the Government's chosen vehicle to arbitrate on where that line lies. The Barrymore and Nickell stories indicate the need for some boldness on the PCC's part.