The phone hacking scandal exposed darker problems in our democracy than celebrity tittle-tattle, argues Daniel Kraemer.

Hugh Grant revealed to the Leveson inquiry this week that he suspected a non-Murdoch newspaper (the Mail on Sunday) of having hacked his phone. Most of those who have been following the phone hacking debacle will not be surprised by this allegation; It’s been clear from quite early on that illegal practice was not just the handy-work of scapegoat Glenn Mulcaire, but was widespread within the industry.

For the public, politicians and the press themselves, the Leveson enquiry is an opportunity to push for accountability and genuine reform and to make sure that this issue does not just blow over. After the 24-hour news-friendly revelations of July, from the Milly Dowler story through to the pied face of Rupert Murdoch, the story was at risk of settling down in the archives. This is a danger, not because we need to know who hacked who and how they did it, but because this scandal brought to the surface a number of other problems in our society which must not be ignored.

Whilst the individual celebrity phone hacking incidents provide eye-catching stories for the media, the real story here is the emergence of a significant number of links between seemingly independent spheres of British society. The Leveson enquiry ensures that the former will not be forgotten, and that the ethics and practice of the press will be examined. However, the broader issues which emerged from the phone hacking scandal will be buried much more easily.

This imbalance is due to our media culture. Take, for example, the story of Hugh Grant. He suspects that the Mail on Sunday had access to his voicemail due to a story that the paper printed about his relationship with Jemima Khan being on the rocks because of his ‘relationship’ with a ‘plummy-voiced’ executive at Warner Brothers. The British media will not drop this story until someone takes responsibility; because it has sex, Hollywood and humour.

On the other hand, there is the case of Andy Coulson, David Cameron’s former communications director. Coulson, who left News International in 2007, is reported to have continued receiving payments from Rupert Murdoch’s company until the end of the year. This meant that, during the first five months that Coulson was running the relationship between the future prime minister and the most powerful media group in the world, he was receiving payments from the latter, to add to his reported £250,000. The fact that the Conservative party paid an advisor that much money (down to a modest £140,000 once he started being paid by the tax-payer in 2010) is worrying in itself. But that he was receiving money from News International simultaneously does not look like a story which comes from a country that was in 2010 ranked the 20th least corrupt country in the world. Sadly, this obvious conflict of interest is less media friendly than the much less significant case of Grant, and is more likely to disappear into history without clarification.

The Coulson story is a small aspect of a huge network of connections which were exposed, mostly by the formidable reporting of the Guardian’s Nick Davies. The never-ending network of actors involved suggest that, not only should those responsible for illegal or unethical actions be held to account, but the revelations which went alongside the news hacking affair should make us question our culture. This is a culture in which it is okay for George Osborne to meet with News International chiefs sixteeen times in the first year of government whilst Murdoch was bidding to take a 61% stake in BSkyB. The aim for those who have been outraged by the whole affair should be to keep up pressure on politicians to delve further, to enforce (and exercise) transparency and to hold all those responsible for wrong-doing to account. We must ask the question of whether a healthy democracy is one of overlapping interests between the police, the media and the government; one in which governments rely on good relationships with media moguls for popularity, and media moguls on governments to retain a monopoly. If pressure is not maintained, and desire for reform not expressed by the public, then the involved institutions will be more than happy to bury the broader issue of questionable practice within the British elite. It is therefore essential for us not to allow politicians and the media to forget about the wider implications on our society which have stemmed from a serious but lesser scandal.