New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254 (1964), was a United States Supreme Court case that established the actual malice standard, which has to be met before press reports about public officials or public figures can be considered to be defamation and libel; and hence allowed free reporting of the civil rights campaigns in the southern United States. It is one of the key decisions supporting the freedom of the press. The actual malice standard requires that the plaintiff in a defamation or libel case prove that the publisher of the statement in question knew that the statement was false or acted in reckless disregard of its truth or falsity. Because of the extremely high burden of proof on the plaintiff, and the difficulty in proving essentially what is inside a person's head, such cases—when they involve public figures—rarely prevail.
Before this decision, there were nearly US $300 million in libel actions outstanding against news organizations from the Southern states, and it had caused many publications to exercise great caution when reporting on civil rights, for fear that they might be held accountable for libel. After The New York Times prevailed in this case, news organizations were free to report the widespread disorder and civil rights infringements. The Times maintained that the case against it was brought to intimidate news organizations and prevent them from reporting illegal actions of public employees in the South as they attempted to continue to support segregation.
Read more about New York Times Co. V. Sullivan: Background of The Case, The Court's Decision, International Comparisons, Later Developments
Famous quotes containing the words york and/or times:
“It is often said that New York is a city for only the very rich and the very poor. It is less often said that New York is also, at least for those of us who came there from somewhere else, a city for only the very young.”
—Joan Didion (b. 1934)
“I shook off the sweat and the sun. I understood that I had destroyed the balance of the day, the exceptional silence of a beach where I had been happy. Then I shot four more times at an inert body which the bullets penetrated without appearing so. And it was like four brief knocks that I struck on the door of misfortune.”
—Albert Camus (1913–1960)