The Ranucci method: facing up to one’s own mistakes

The ‘Report’-Lavitola scandal will at least serve to counter certain ‘investigative’ methods and the moralising with which people judge others’ dinners and social circles

27 JUL 26
Translated by AI
Image of The Ranucci method: facing up to one’s own mistakes

Photo: LaPresse

Introduction: I speak of the ‘Ranucci method’ from first-hand experience. More than once, in fact. For example – as I mentioned in Il Foglio a few weeks ago – I defended a highly enterprising businessman from the Marche region who proposed to leading banks that they offer their account holders investments in diamonds. It was a hugely successful initiative, taken up by tens of thousands of savers. Then along comes Report’s ‘investigative journalism’, claiming that the diamonds are worth far less than their declared value – in short, it’s a massive scam. Who says so? Not a gemmologist, but a jeweller picked at random, and an international price list (Rapaport) which our sleuths seem to have read upside down. The Guardia di Finanza and the Milan Public Prosecutor’s Office pursued legal action on the basis of the investigation as if this stuff were gospel. Lawsuits were filed (after the programme aired, of course) by around thirty clients out of 30,000 – coincidentally, all residents of Milan or the immediate vicinity. The businessman was arrested (spending over a year between prison and house arrest), his companies and assets seized to the value of nearly 200 million and handed over to the judicial authorities, a lifetime’s work destroyed, a family devastated. When, years later, the trial finally took place (in Rome, due to territorial jurisdiction), in response to every technical question regarding the value of the diamonds, the marshal of the Guardia di Finanza coordinating the investigation replied – infuriating the astonished judge – that he could not be precise, but that ‘Report said so’ (how about a proper investigation into the investigation itself, perhaps?). Acquitted because the offence did not stand in the first instance and (definitively) on appeal. The judgements were very harsh on the appalling quality of the investigation. As for "Report": it would have been enough to speak to a gemmologist and have them explain clearly what the Rapaport price list actually was. But if you work with your mind already set on a result based on your own convictions or journalistic agenda, you avoid any evidence that might undermine your position; you neutralise it – you certainly don’t go looking for it.
Another experience, another ‘Ranucci method’. A referendum campaign, a public rally – I am approached by the Report film crew. The voiceover explains who I am, that I chair the ‘Yes’ Committee, then unexpectedly adds, for no plausible reason, that I am the defence lawyer for Mr So-and-so, whom the Calabrian courts have deemed to be a Freemason and an external collaborator with the Calabrian mafia clans (a non-final judgement, I should point out). This is followed in the edit by a clip on my client’s alleged ‘criminal exploits’. Then the camera cuts back to me and the journalist asks whether that client of mine is voting ‘Yes’. ‘What the hell does that have to do with anything?’ I’m almost tempted to reply. ‘How is it possible,’ he insists, ‘that you’ve never mentioned this?’ The message for viewers: Freemasons, ‘Ndrangheta members and their reticent lawyers are all voting “Yes”. The Court of Cassation calls this sort of rubbish “suggestive associations”, but they’re proud of it: it’s “investigative journalism”, they say smugly.
End of introduction.
Let us turn, with effusive optimism, to the bright future. We wish to convince ourselves that this sorry affair (for it is a sorry affair, and a very nasty one at that) involving Ranucci and Lavitola may well end up yielding a positive outcome: Ranucci and Report, held up – as if in a mirror – to their own ‘investigative’ methods, the criteria they’re accustomed to using when selecting news sources, and the Jacobin, self-righteous moralising with which they judge other people’s dinners, other people’s social circles, other people’s text messages, and other people’s sexual escapades – material with which they lavishly embellish their own ‘investigations’ – perhaps they’ll start to give it a bit of thought. I’m not talking about a complete change of heart, let’s be clear – I’m not that naive; but some initial second thoughts, perhaps silent, introverted, or even exchanged in hushed tones amongst editors over a coffee during these rather difficult days, whilst reaffirming their full solidarity with their leader, might perhaps begin to emerge. On the other hand, we can already detect some significant signs.
Let’s take these lawsuits for defamation and – mark my words – breach of investigative secrecy that Dr Ranucci filed a few days ago against the unknown individuals who dared to pass on to certain journalists (other than the editorial team at Report) information covered by investigative secrecy: is that not enough for you? There can be only one rationale behind this severe and indignant legal action: during investigations, prosecutors must be able to work in the strictest secrecy, as our Code of Criminal Procedure quite rightly provides. ‘We are certainly not criticising the journalists,’ Dr Ranucci’s prudent defence counsel was keen to point out, ‘who dutifully publish the news that comes into their possession, but rather their unknown news sources, whom we demand be identified, one by one, by name, and punished without fail, as required by law.’ Because this material that is circulating – such as the contents of Lavitola’s chat messages, the surveillance of his burly associates, the wiretaps of so-and-so and such-and-such – is simply thrown out there like this, without a clear context, without corroborating evidence and – above all else – without the slightest consultation with the defence lawyers of the suspects or, better still, with the suspects themselves, in short – how does one put it? – without even having heard ‘the other side of the story’, well, all this is very serious, and it astonishes and outrages anyone who cares about the basic rules of the rule of law. Granted, there is the right to inform, but surely we also want to protect the right to a good reputation of the suspects and of any other person even indirectly and through no fault of their own involved – such as Ranucci, who, moreover, is the victim of the attack – in investigations that are supposed to be strictly confidential. Do we want to protect that right as well, yes or no? I believe this is the reasoning behind the lawsuits, unless the intention was to say “provided that information covered by secrecy is disclosed solely to the editors of the programme Report”, which I would tend to rule out because I am personally aware of the integrity of Dr Ranucci’s defence lawyer. So, what can we say? A huge step forward! From now on, we might perhaps no longer hear those phrases dropped there with ill-concealed pride, such as “Report has come into possession of a confidential document” or even “in a wiretap that Report was able to listen to exclusively”, or things like that. From now on, when discussing judicial investigations, reference will be made only to those filed with the court registry in due course; whistleblowers, jamais. So let us all express strong support for these Ranucci-led lawsuits to succeed: exposing the sources of the unlawful leaking of investigative information. It would be, let’s be honest, the first time; we are not aware of any precedents. It is a de facto repealed offence, in the sense that investigations into possible whistleblowers are never even launched by the relevant public prosecutors’ offices (and yet these would be very straightforward investigations; the circle of suspects would naturally be extremely narrow). But we are neither jealous nor envious – quite the opposite! The discovery and conviction, for the first time, of the sources who handed over copies of confidential investigative documents to the press, at the hands of the commander-in-chief of Italian investigative journalism – well, if I may say so, it would be an event of overwhelming, priceless beauty.
But this is not the only development this affair is set to bring us. We now need to thoroughly rethink, for example, the evaluative and narrative criteria concerning human interactions. To put it another way: if you regularly associate with a repeat offender with multiple convictions for extortion and fraud against the state, a Freemason and likely linked to the secret services – even better if they are ‘deviant’ (an option particularly favoured by investigative journalists, although I’m still not entirely clear what that entails) – well, what does that mean? Absolutely nothing. It is now time to realise that it is not permissible to draw hasty and – to be frank – moralistic investigative conclusions from this. In the sense that there may well be reasons behind that association other than a shared commitment to shady schemes, as we are all too quick to assume. In the case of the journalist, as this affair has clearly taught us, the person they’ve been associating with could quite simply be a valuable source of information, and then one thing leads to another – you can’t control the heart. This prudent approach to assessing the complexity of human nature will come in handy when we start scrutinising – what am I saying? – the associations of politician So-and-so with the convicted criminal Such-and-such or the discredited What’s-his-name. The lead, let’s be clear, must be followed, but the matter does not in itself carry conclusive weight: there could be the most unimaginable reasons behind that association. A shared passion for football, for example, or thoughtful concern for a family member’s health, but also, quite simply, that politician’s ambition to gain access to information that might prove useful to him in carrying out his duties more effectively. So, enough of those slightly out-of-focus, shaky shots, accompanied by a relentless soundtrack, which tell the avid consumer of investigative journalism about the ‘secret’ dinner between MP So-and-so and the convicted criminal Such-and-such, who speak somewhat cautiously at the table over a plate of fettuccine. These are – as we have now realised – neutral images, incapable, on their own, of substantiating any investigative hypothesis. First, let us examine the reasons behind that dinner, verify whether the relationship between the two is of a personal, family or healthcare nature, and then we can discuss it further.
In fact, speaking of dinners, there is this issue of privacy which, objectively speaking, will now have to be reconsidered. Indeed, Dr Ranucci himself had raised the issue at the time when – as reported in "Il Riformista" – he kicked up a right fuss about the publication of the famous photo that treacherously depicted him at a restaurant with Lavitola and the monsignor. ‘It’s my own business who I go out to dinner with, isn’t it?’ And he was right, having, moreover, already foreseen the risk inherent in that photograph (and here you can really appreciate the brilliant instinct of the great investigative journalist).
Ultimately, this potential – and certainly desirable – rebirth of the investigative journalism associated with "Report" cannot avoid addressing all those delicate, yet frankly somewhat murky, issues concerning the boundary between professional and personal relationships with news sources – and, whilst we’re at it, with interns too. Suddenly, these rigid standards seem rhetorical and moralistic to us today. Emotional attachment, just like sexual attraction, is part of human nature, and it is neither right nor helpful to repress them as if they were the devil’s work – least of all when they are put at the service of exposing the flaws of those in power. So if you, a journalist who makes the pursuit of news your raison d’être, come across people capable of providing you with juicy news and information on how things really stand in the world of corrupt power, why set limits on affection and gratitude? And as for the interns, well, those were just fantasies – it’s your own fault if you didn’t realise that straight away.
In conclusion, it really is true that every cloud has a silver lining. This attack, which fortunately claimed no victims, is proving to be (and we are only at the beginning) a treasure trove of valuable insights, lessons and a clearer focus on the rules and principles that will improve – we are certain of this, or at least fairly certain, or in any case reasonably confident – our commendable, irreplaceable and glorious investigative journalism. Right?