You may use the full extent of the law and sue for defamation. And on the surface, it appears Deputy Peter Ferbrache has done exactly that. That’s certainly what the Guernsey Press wants you to believe (link).

But is this the full story?

To better understand, we need to go back to the end of last year, when a list purporting to name eight members of a “local paedophile ring” was widely circulated. 

I wrote a little about it on social media. Well, not really. All I did was copy part of a journalist’s post on X. It didn’t name names. It didn’t point fingers. It didn’t include a screenshot of the “list.”

One subject of Ferbrache’s defamation lawsuit, Mr. X, did the same as me—but it was my post he copied. He didn’t name names or point fingers either. Mr. Y, the other subject of Ferbrache’s defamation lawsuit, entered the fray when he posted a “list” as a comment on Mr. X’s post. He also singled out a name from the list, adding an exclamation mark.

Let me be clear: I’m no lawyer. But I can’t see how Mr. X defamed Ferbrache. I can see an argument for Mr. Y, since he provided a list, but in my mind, it’s a weak one. Moreover, hundreds of people went much further in targeting Ferbrache specifically. So why did he go after these two—but nobody else?

I imagine Ferbrache wanted to (rightly) clear his name. But how to go about it? Out of the hundreds of potential defendants, who to pick? In this case, both Mr. X and Mr. Y had criminal records. Neither had much money and, for reasons I’m not prepared to disclose, are considered vulnerable adults. They also couldn’t see the holes in the [civil] charges levied against them.

From his letters, Ferbrache knew all this and more. He had dug deep into the defendants’ lives. Which made me wonder: did he vet potential targets based on the probability of a successful lawsuit?

A whistleblower recently leaked two of Ferbrache’s letters (link). One was sent to both Mr. X and Mr. Y; the other was a version provided to the Royal Court. But there was a difference. According to the whistleblower, Ferbrache “intentionally withheld from the Royal Court the fact he had told the defendants he had a close personal relationship with a Judge of the Royal Court.” Unsurprisingly, both defendants were terrified when they learned claims would be brought in the very court where Ferbrache had a close friend as a presiding judge.

Did Ferbrache go too far? Was it not risky for a practicing advocate to admit this? And if it was above board, why did Ferbrache feel it necessary to hide this (and only this) tidbit from Royal Court Judge Fionnula Connolly?

Some other facts not reported: the defendants didn’t write “grovelling apology letters”—Ferbrache did. Which he then forced the defendants to sign.

And Mr. Y, who the Press said “avoided court proceedings by the skin of his teeth”? That wasn’t his fault. As I said, Mr. Y doesn’t have much money. He couldn’t afford to pay Ferbrache the cash demanded upfront. So he offered to pay in instalments, but Ferbrache wouldn’t have it, saying he wasn’t a bank.

For the record, I haven’t seen a shred of evidence even hinting at the possibility that Deputy Ferbrache did what he was accused of. He had every right to go after the (actual) people defaming him.

But I don’t like how he went about doing it (and I don’t agree with who he targeted).

Ferbrache abided by the letter of the law. But make no mistake—litigation is war. The strategy of selecting opponents who are less likely to mount a robust defence is extremely common in both litigation (and war). This raises ethical questions about the fairness and intent of legal action. Did Deputy Ferbrache exploit the legal system just to clear his name, rather than purely seeking justice?

Finally, it may be worth considering Deputy Ferbrache’s track record.