The High Court’s dismissal of the claims brought by Prince Harry, Baroness Lawrence, Sir Elton John and others against Associated Newspapers is one of the most significant media law decisions of recent years. Unsurprisingly, it has generated strong reactions. Prince Harry and Baroness Lawrence described the judgment as a “whitewash”, while Associated Newspapers understandably regarded it as a comprehensive vindication of its position.

The strength of feeling on both sides is easy to understand. The claimants spent years pursuing allegations that journalists and others connected with Associated Newspapers obtained information through unlawful means, including phone hacking, blagging, the use of private investigators and corrupt payments. Those allegations were serious, and the claimants clearly believed they raised important questions about how highly personal information had found its way into the public domain.

However, despite the inevitable headlines, what makes the judgment particularly significant is not the identity of the individuals involved but the court’s approach to evidence. At its core, this was a case about proof.  

Not a Technical Victory

One misconception that may develop in the aftermath of the judgment is that Associated Newspapers prevailed on procedural grounds. That is not really what happened. This was not a claim that was struck out before trial, nor was it defeated primarily by a limitation defence. The litigation proceeded through a lengthy trial in which witnesses were cross-examined, documentary evidence was examined in detail and extensive submissions were made on both sides. 

One of the more striking elements of the judgment is that, for most of the claims, the court did not need to rule on the limitation arguments because it had already concluded that the allegations were not proven. While there were some specific findings on limitation in relation to discrete parts of the litigation, the central reason the claims failed was that the court was not persuaded by the evidence. That distinction is important because it goes directly to the criticism that the claimants somehow failed to obtain a fair hearing. Whatever view one takes of the outcome, the allegations received full judicial scrutiny. The claimants had the opportunity to advance their case and challenge the evidence relied upon by the defendant. The court’s conclusion was simply that the allegations had not been established.

Serious Allegations Require Strong Evidence

The judgment also contains an important reminder about the burden of proof in civil litigation. Unlike criminal proceedings, the claimants did not need to prove their case beyond reasonable doubt. The applicable standard was the balance of probabilities. In simple terms, the court had to decide whether the alleged wrongdoing was more likely than not to have occurred. That does not mean, however, that courts approach all allegations in the same way. Where allegations involve conduct as serious as phone hacking, deception, corruption and unlawful information gathering, judges will expect evidence that is sufficiently strong and persuasive before making findings of wrongdoing.  

The court repeatedly returned to the distinction between suspicion and proof. Given the age of many of the allegations, the claimants’ case often relied on inference. The judge accepted that some suspicions may have been understandable. Nevertheless, suspicion alone could not bridge the evidential gap that remained. That point may ultimately prove to be the most important aspect of the decision. Historic privacy and media claims frequently encounter practical evidential difficulties. Documents disappear, memories fade and key witnesses may no longer be available. As time passes, it becomes increasingly difficult to establish precisely how information was obtained and whether unlawful methods were involved.

The challenge for the claimants was therefore not simply persuading the court that concerns existed. It was persuading the court that the available evidence was strong enough to support findings of liability.  

What About an Appeal?

The judgment may not represent the end of the litigation. The claimants remain entitled to seek permission to appeal, and Prince Harry has already made clear his profound disagreement with the court’s conclusions. Whether an appeal is pursued remains to be seen. If one does follow, it is worth remembering that appeals are not second trials. An appeal court will not simply rehear the evidence and decide whether it would have reached a different conclusion. Any challenge would need to identify a proper basis on which the judgment can be questioned. For that reason, there is an important difference between disagreeing with a judgment and successfully overturning one.

The Wider Significance

It is tempting to view the case entirely through the prism of Prince Harry’s long-running disputes with parts of the British media. In reality, its significance is wider than that. The court was not asked to conduct a public inquiry into press culture, nor was it tasked with deciding every allegation that has ever been made about the tabloid press. Its role was considerably narrower. It had to determine whether these claimants had proved these allegations against this defendant. After a lengthy trial, the answer was no. People will continue to disagree about what that means. Some will regard the outcome as a complete vindication for Associated Newspapers. Others will remain sympathetic to claimants who believe they were victims of unlawful conduct.

What cannot really be disputed, however, is the central lesson from the judgment. The court was not saying that concerns should never have been raised, nor was it criticising the claimants for asking difficult questions. It was saying something much narrower and much more fundamental: allegations, however serious, require evidence. Ultimately, that is why the case was lost. Not because the questions were incapable of being asked, but because the court concluded that the answers had not been proved. That may be an uncomfortable outcome for the claimants, but it reflects a principle that sits at the heart of the civil justice system. 

In the end, the case turned on an absence of proof rather than a failure of argument.

Do you have questions about media law, privacy or reputation disputes?

Whether you’re bringing a claim or defending one, our Creative, Digital and Media team can help. Contact us today.

Artificial intelligence is rapidly changing how we create, distribute and consume content. It is also creating legal questions that would have sounded like science fiction only a few years ago.  

Technology can now recover voices from historic recordings, recreate performances and generate increasingly realistic digital versions of people long after their deaths. What was once the preserve of Hollywood visual effects studios is becoming increasingly accessible to brands, agencies, content creators and technology platforms. 

For businesses operating in the creative, digital and media sectors, the question is no longer whether this technology works, but whether it’s legal, and what regulatory and reputational risks it introduces. 

From preservation to recreation 

Recent projects have demonstrated the remarkable capabilities of modern AI and digital production technologies.

Peter Jackson’s team used machine-learning technology to isolate John Lennon’s voice from historic recordings, enabling the release of what became the final Beatles song.   

Meanwhile, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story saw the digital recreation of actor Peter Cushing, allowing his character Grand Moff Tarkin to appear on screen more than two decades after the actor’s death.  

These projects are often discussed as technological achievements. 

However, the more interesting questions may be legal and commercial rather than technical. 

The Peter Cushing Dispute: the agency impact

The litigation which followed Peter Cushing’s appearance in Rogue One provides an important insight into how courts may approach these issues.

 At first glance, the dispute appeared to concern digital recreation and visual effects technology. In reality, the arguments centred on historic contractual arrangements and the rights associated with Cushing’s likeness. A third party claimed that an earlier agreement restricted how his likeness could be commercially exploited in the future, notwithstanding the permissions obtained from his estate. 

Whilst the claim ultimately failed on the particular legal basis advanced, the case remains significant because it demonstrates that disputes in this area are unlikely to be decided solely by reference to technology. The courts are more likely to focus on issues such as:  

who has authority to grant permissions; what contractual rights exist; whether historic agreements remain enforceable; and  how commercial rights relating to a person’s image, likeness or performance should be interpreted.   

The key lesson is a simple one:

Technology may enable a particular use. Contracts and rights determine whether that use is authorised. 

The UK’s existing legal framework

Unlike some jurisdictions, the UK does not currently recognise a standalone image right or personality right. 

Instead, protection arises from a combination of legal principles, including: 

copyright;performers’ rights;  data protection law;  privacy rights;  contractual protections; and  passing off and false endorsement claims.  

This creates a legal landscape which can be highly fact-specific. 

As AI-generated content becomes more sophisticated, businesses may increasingly find themselves navigating multiple legal frameworks simultaneously. 

Regulatory risk: The ASA and CMA 

Legal rights are only part of the picture. 

Regulators are also likely to play an increasingly important role. 

The Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) focuses on whether advertising is misleading, whilst the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) has a broader remit relating to consumer protection and transparency.

This becomes particularly relevant where digital recreations, synthetic voices or AI-generated content risk creating misleading impressions about endorsement, participation or approval.

For example:  

Does a digitally recreated individual appear to endorse a product? Could consumers believe a person actively participated in a campaign when they did not? Has the commercial use of AI-generated content been communicated transparently?  

These issues may become increasingly significant as synthetic media becomes more difficult for consumers to distinguish from authentic human-created content. 

Lessons from Rhianna v Topshop 

Although predating the current AI boom, the Rihanna v Topshop litigation remains highly relevant. 

In that case, Rihanna successfully argued that Topshop’s use of her image created a misleading impression that she had approved or endorsed the product. The court’s focus was not simply on the image itself but on how consumers would interpret it. 

That principle translates naturally into the world of digital recreation. When assessing risk, businesses should consider not only whether they possess the necessary permissions, but also how audiences are likely to understand and interpret the content they encounter.  

To read more on AI voice cloning, read our recent article here

What this means for agencies and brands  

As these technologies become more widely adopted, agencies and brands may need to ask more sophisticated questions than they have in the past. 

Historically, the focus may have been on obtaining permission to use a photograph, recording or performance. 

Today, businesses may also need to consider: 

whether a likeness can be recreated or modified;  whether synthetic versions of an individual are permitted; who is entitled to authorise those uses; what legacy or estate arrangements exist; and whether audiences may be misled by the final output.  

Those considerations become even more important where multiple parties are involved in creating and distributing content, including brands, agencies, production companies and technology providers.

Looking ahead

The discussion around digital immortality is often framed as a debate about artificial intelligence. In reality, it may be more accurately viewed as a debate about legacy. 

Technology is increasingly allowing voices, performances and likenesses to be reused, adapted and extended beyond their original context. Some will see that as preserving a legacy.  Others may regard it as exploiting one. 

Either way, the legal, regulatory and commercial implications are only beginning to emerge. 

For businesses operating in creative, digital and media sectors, understanding those implications now may prove significantly easier than dealing with them after the fact.

Steve Kuncewicz is Partner and Head of Creative, Digital & Media at Glaisyers ETL, advising agencies, brands, rights holders and tech companies on intellectual property, media, marketing, reputation and digital regulation. 

As AI voice cloning becomes cheaper, faster and more convincing, agencies, brands, creators and talent are confronting a new commercial reality: our voices are yet to be adequately protected.

Distinctive voices can now be replicated with remarkable accuracy and deployed across multiple channels at scale, yet UK law provides surprisingly little clarity on how those voices can be controlled, licensed or protected.

Recent headlines brought this issue into focus when Stephen Fry revealed that his voice had been recreated using AI trained on recordings of his Harry Potter audiobooks, generating entirely new narration that he had never recorded.

The story resonated because it exposed something that feels instinctively wrong to most people. A highly recognisable voice had been replicated and used to create new content without the speaker’s involvement, yet the legal position surrounding that use was far from straightforward. 

As AI-generated content, voice cloning and digital replicas become increasingly sophisticated, businesses are asking a question UK law does not clearly answer: who controls a voice, and what legal rights arise when artificial intelligence reproduces it?

Voices as Commercial Assets

For many individuals and businesses, a voice can be every bit as valuable as a name, image, reputation or trademark.

Presenters, broadcasters, actors, voice artists, influencers and founders frequently build significant commercial value around a distinctive tone, delivery or style. Audiences often recognise a voice before any visual branding appears, making it a source of:

TrustRecognitionCommercial differentiation. 

This is far from theoretical. Brands routinely invest heavily in recognisable voices because of the authenticity and audience engagement they generate. Increasingly, a distinctive voice has become a commercially valuable asset in its own right. 

Technology has made that asset easier than ever to reproduce, whilst the legal framework governing its use has not evolved at the same pace. 

The Pre-AI Case of Bette Midler

Although AI has accelerated the issue, disputes involving the commercial value of voices are not new.

A well-known example is the dispute between singer Bette Midler and Ford in the United States. After Midler declined to appear in an advertising campaign, Ford instructed one of her former backing singers to imitate her voice as closely as possible. Many listeners believed Midler had participated in the campaign.

Whilst decided under a different legal framework, the underlying issue remains highly relevant. The commercial value Ford sought was not simply the song, but the goodwill attached to Midler’s distinctive voice.  

The difference today is scale. Businesses no longer need a convincing human soundalike. AI can generate highly realistic synthetic voices from relatively small amounts of source material, separating the commercial value of a voice from the individual who created it. That shift lies at the heart of many of the legal questions now emerging.

The UK’s Patchwork of Protection

One of the greatest challenges is that UK law does not recognise a standalone right in a person’s voice. Many clients are surprised to discover there is no single legal principle preventing someone from recreating or imitating another person’s voice. Instead, protection comes from several different areas of law. 

Data protection legislation may apply where voice recordings constitute personal data or biometric information.Copyright and performers’ rights can protect recordings and performances.Privacy and human rights principles may be relevant where private material is involved.Passing off may assist where use of a voice falsely suggests endorsement or commercial association.Defamation may provide a remedy where synthetic content causes reputational harm.  

What these rights share is that they protect something connected to the voice rather than the voice itself. The law can often address the consequences of misuse, but it remains far less clear about ownership or control of the voice.

Why Contracts Are Becoming Increasingly Important

In practice, the strongest protection often comes not from legislation but from carefully drafted contracts. 

Voice cloning technology has prompted agencies, brands, production companies and rights holders to revisit standard agreements and address issues that would barely have featured in negotiations a few years ago. 

Questions increasingly arise around whether recordings may be used to train AI models, whether synthetic voices can be created, how long usage rights extend, whether approval is required for future uses, and what obligations apply when a commercial relationship ends.

The distinction between an authorised recording and an unauthorised synthetic recreation can be commercially significant. A voice artist may agree to record a campaign without expecting those recordings to become the basis of an AI-generated version of their voice. Similarly, a founder may appear in marketing content without anticipating that their voice could later be replicated through AI. 

Where contracts fail to address these issues, parties may find themselves relying on legal principles developed long before AI-generated media became commercially viable.

For that reason, many organisations are now introducing provisions covering AI training, synthetic voice generation, reuse rights, approval processes and deletion obligations. These clauses need not be overly complex, but they should clearly define what is being licensed, for what purpose, for how long and on what terms.  

Beyond Intellectual Property

It would be a mistake to view voice cloning solely as an intellectual property issue.  

The technology also raises important questions around advertising regulation, consumer protection, cybersecurity, fraud prevention and corporate governance. 

The same tools capable of generating synthetic voiceovers for marketing campaigns can also create convincing impersonations for scams, social engineering attacks and false endorsements. 

For brands, authenticity and consumer trust are key concerns. If a synthetic voice is used in a campaign, audiences may assume the individual has approved or endorsed the content. Where that assumption is incorrect, the issue may quickly extend beyond intellectual property into misleading advertising, reputation management and consumer protection.

For businesses more broadly, the ability to imitate senior executives or public-facing spokespeople presents obvious governance and security risks. As synthetic content becomes increasingly sophisticated, discussions around voice replication are moving beyond legal teams and into marketing, procurement, compliance and risk functions.

How your agency should respond

The UK Government’s recent consideration of personality rights and AI-related issues suggests these questions are receiving greater attention. Whether that ultimately results in dedicated protection for voices, likenesses or digital replicas remains to be seen.

For now, businesses, agencies and talent continue to operate within a patchwork of intellectual property, privacy, reputation and contractual rights. While the law continues to evolve, agencies do not need to wait for legislative reform before taking practical steps.

Agencies should review both their client contracts and agreements with freelancers, creators and talent. In particular, businesses should consider whether existing terms adequately address AI training rights, synthetic voice generation, ownership of AI outputs and approval for future uses.

You can find further information on drafting a solid contract here.

The Creative, Digital & Media Team at Glaisyers ETL advises agencies, brands, production companies, creators and rights holders on the legal and commercial issues shaping the sector, including AI, intellectual property, data protection, advertising regulation and emerging technologies.  

If AI-generated voices, synthetic content or digital replica rights are beginning to appear in your contracts, campaigns or commercial negotiations, we’d be happy to discuss the issues with you and help you navigate this rapidly evolving area.