In fact, when up against the mudslinging machine our response should not be to say: ‘We’re better.’ Instead we should say: ‘We’re different.’ We should emphasize the difference, not toss everything into the same kettle. Point out, for example, that privacy is sacred, that it’s one of the pillars of democracy: being able to declare your feelings to the person you love without anyone overhearing you. I often use this example to show the boundaries that are invaded by being observed, by gossip that becomes a tool for blackmail: imagine what it would mean to be photographed while in the toilet. We all go to the bathroom, we all sit on the toilet bowl, there’s nothing wrong with that. But if someone photographs you there and circulates a photo of that universal act, you lose credibility because, when you talk, the people you meet – your neighbours, your listeners if you have a public presence – will always remember that picture, that image. Yet you’ve done nothing wrong.

It is important to understand there are limits that are the foundation of democracy. It’s one thing to make a declaration of love, another to nominate your friends for office because you like them and then end up a possible victim of blackmail and extortion. The latter ceases to be a private matter because it becomes an influence on the life of the entire country. The first instance, privacy, is a desire to live; the second is an abuse of power. The difference is critical, because the objective of the mudslinging machine is to say: it’s all the same thing. And, most importantly, lower your eyes, don’t criticize, let the shrewdest one win and, if you criticize, this is what you can expect: your entire private life will be made public.

What happens in Italy when you irritate those in power? Machinery is activated, made up of dossiers, conspiring journalists and shady politicians who try to discredit their rivals through blackmail and the media. I could tell you a lot of stories. The one about the Monte Carlo home of Gianfranco Fini, chairman of the Chamber of Deputies, which started when he began to disagree with several positions held by his party. But where was the crime? It was an inelegant, inappropriate move. But there was no crime. I could tell you the story about Dino Boffo, editor of the Catholic newspaper Avvenire, who had timidly begun to criticize Berlusconi’s conduct. The mudslinging machine hinted that it was in possession of a document of a judicial nature which read: ‘Known homosexual, under surveillance by the police.’ But what was the crime, homosexuality? I could tell you that the alleged homosexuality of Stefano Caldoro became a weapon used by his party colleague, Nicola Cosentino, to take his place as candidate for governor of Campania.