In the days following the death of Jason Arday—the youngest Black professor in Cambridge University’s history—who faced allegations of widespread plagiarism, a wave of responses erupted.
Some observers argued that Arday fell prey to racially charged opponents who weaponized the controversy to attack diversity, equity, and inclusion. Cambridge’s Chancellor, Chris Smith, described the media probes into Arday as a “racist feeding frenzy,” and Simon Woolley, head of Homerton College at Cambridge, characterized Arday as having endured a “vicious witch hunt,” according to BBC reporting. Others have pushed even further, calling for limits on press freedoms.
“Freedom of the press should never equate to ownership and control of the media, nor to the spread of constant misinformation,” wrote Zack Polanski, leader of the Green Party, on X. “We need media regulation—now.”
After prominent journalist Andrew Neil challenged Polanski’s stance by labeling it as “fascism,” Polanski doubled down, stating, “A handful of billionaires owning most of the press and acting as they wish does not constitute a free press. Change is coming.”
The notion of restricting the press appears dystopian in its own right, yet Polanski’s assertion that billionaires control the majority of outlets is not as accurate as it once was. Ofcom, the U.K. media regulator, reports that more than half of British adults obtain their news from social media. In 2025, Press Gazette noted that eleven major national newspapers were experiencing double-digit year-on-year declines in circulation, with several losing around 20 percent or more of their print readership. Put simply, the media landscape has become far more decentralized, and entry barriers are lower, in large part thanks to the tech platforms created by wealthy backers.
This reality has not deterred progressives from signaling virtue and pressing for press censorship. Will Self, a prominent writer, published an open letter to Prime Minister Andy Burnham urging the government to “commission a comprehensive independent public inquiry” and to have police begin to “impound computers.” He assures readers that this is not an assault on a free press, but posits that “you do not need to be innocent to deserve a right not to be collectively destroyed.”
Polanski and several Labour MPs have signed an open letter calling for stricter press regulation. The letter accuses the press of racism and seeks a government inquiry by the Independent Press Standards Organisation into the allegations against Arday. Labour figure Clive Lewis argued that articles about Arday “went far beyond what could reasonably be considered in the public interest,” and added that “accountability cannot mean turning a human being into public spectacle.” He is among 53 MPs who signed the document.
These calls are not merely theoretical. Last year, Jack Grove, a reporter for Times Higher Education (THE), investigated Arday’s extraordinary claims—ranging from alleged plagiarism to fundraising for charity and completing thirty marathons in thirty-five days. Arday hired a defamation firm and reported Grove to the police, who then instructed Grove not to contact Arday again because it was affecting his mental health.
THE ultimately opted not to publish the story. “While I was personally disappointed,” Grove later wrote, “I understood; by then Arday’s solicitors had contacted THE and it seemed the piece could entangle the publication in months of costly litigation.”
The plagiarism rumors eventually reached Nathan Cofnas, a former Cambridge researcher who now writes on Substack, who conducted his own investigation and subsequently broke the story.
Perhaps if the police had not spent months investigating Grove, and if Grove had been allowed to publish his findings, the narrative might have taken a different path. The claims, instead, could have been carried by a reputable sector publication staffed by trained and conscientious journalists with no desire to harm the field, Grove observes. “But because of the looming legal threat, the tale was seized by a Substack writer who understood the force of what he uncovered and was ready to draw conclusions I don’t endorse.”
Of course, Arday’s death is a tragedy, but the press retain every right to scrutinize questions. Arday was a high-profile scholar who advised the British government on the national school curriculum, testified before parliamentary committees, worked at a taxpayer-funded institution, and was reportedly involved in projects receiving millions of pounds in public funding.
As Robby Soave of Reason noted earlier this week, “If we begin policing people for asking perfectly legitimate questions of public figures—like a well-known academic—we will quickly render essential institutions, including academia, immune to criticism. That would be a grave error, plain and simple.”
Freedom of the press remains fundamental to a free society. Without it, people cannot obtain the information needed in the public interest, and wrongdoing cannot be held accountable. The irony is that some politicians now call for tighter press controls to avert another Arday-like incident, even as it seems censorship has caused greater harm in the first place.