Google Search requires user consent to function. When a reader visits this website and clicks the search field, they are met with a prompt to allow Google Custom Search to load — a step that activates cookies or similar tracking technologies. Without that explicit permission, the search box remains disabled. This is not a technical glitch but a deliberate design driven by data protection law, and it forms the gateway through which every user must pass before they can find news, analysis or court reports on this site. The principle at stake is straightforward: no consent, no search.
Why consent is non-negotiable
The necessity of user consent for Google Search stems from the way the custom search service works. When a person types a query, Google’s servers process that request and may store information about the user’s device, location and browsing history through cookies. Under UK data protection regulations — specifically the Privacy and Electronic Communications Regulations — websites must obtain informed, affirmative consent before placing non-essential cookies. The search feature falls squarely into that category because it is not strictly necessary for the basic functioning of the page; it is an additional service. This requirement applies regardless of how trivial the search appears. A reader hunting for the latest on a former MSP’s court appearance, for example, would still need to click “Allow and Continue” before the results appear.
Consent, in this context, means the user must take a positive action — clicking a button — after being told what data will be collected and why. The website’s privacy policy, linked from the consent prompt, explains the types of cookies used, whether they are session-based or persistent, and how long data is retained. Without this layer of permission, the site is legally barred from activating the search tool. The burden falls on the publisher to ensure that the consent mechanism is clear, unambiguous and easy to withdraw. Users who later change their mind can delete cookies via browser settings, but the initial gate remains the same: search is blocked until consent is given.
This consent requirement is not hypothetical. It affects every story published here, including the developing case of Colin Smyth, the former Labour MSP for South Scotland. Smyth, first elected in 2016 and re-elected in 2021, served as the party’s general secretary and a frontbencher before being suspended. Readers who want to follow the allegations against him — drink-driving, indecent images and voyeurism — must first grant permission for the search function to work. The same is true for those looking up the separate embezzlement case of Peter Murrell, the estranged husband of former First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, who pleaded guilty to stealing more than £400,000 from the Scottish National Party. In both instances, the website cannot assist the reader until consent is freely given.
How the search feature operates
Once consent is granted, the Google Custom Search widget loads on the page. It behaves like a standard search engine, crawling the site’s content and returning results based on keywords. The feature is provided by Google, meaning that queries are routed through Google’s servers and subject to its privacy policies. The website itself does not control what data Google collects beyond the initial cookie consent. Users should be aware that typing a name like “Colin Smyth” or “Peter Murrell” into the search box may generate records held by a third party. The website’s own logs, however, do not record individual search terms unless the user is logged into an account — a feature not active on this site.
The search feature is designed to help readers locate specific articles quickly. For a story as sprawling as the Smyth case — which involves multiple court appearances, separate charges, and a timeline stretching from August 2025 to at least July 2026 — the ability to search by date, charge or location is invaluable. Yet that convenience is conditional. The website cannot pre-load the search box or assume blanket permission; each session requires a fresh consent decision, although most browsers will remember the choice if the user selects “Allow” and closes the prompt.
Peter Murrell’s case, which came to light after he was arrested in June 2023 and later cleared of wrongdoing by police, also generates significant search interest. The former SNP chief executive used fake invoices and false accounting records to conceal the thefts, according to court proceedings, with funds spent on a luxury motorhome, a Jaguar SUV, a VW Golf, boutique cosmetics, iPads and household items. Nicola Sturgeon has said she felt “deceived, misled and betrayed” and announced her divorce from Murrell last year. Readers following these overlapping political scandals rely on the search tool to navigate the coverage — but not before they consent to the cookies that make it work.
Privacy in practice
The privacy implications of the search consent requirement extend beyond the act of searching. Cookies placed by Google Custom Search can be used for analytics, personalisation and advertising, depending on the configuration. The website’s privacy policy sets out the limited purposes for which data is processed: primarily to improve the search experience and to prevent abuse. No personal information is sold or shared with third parties beyond the necessary technical operation. Users who decline consent are not tracked, but they also lose the ability to search the site. This trade-off between functionality and privacy is a direct consequence of the legal framework that governs digital services in the UK.
For reporters covering the Smyth case, understanding the consent mechanism is part of responsible journalism. The Contempt of Court Act 1981 prohibits publishing material that could prejudice active legal proceedings. Any search that surfaces commentary or analysis of evidence, witnesses or the accused could risk contempt — but the search tool itself is neutral. It is the user’s query that determines what results appear. The website has no ability to filter or block search terms. The same law that protects a fair trial also underpins the privacy regulations that require consent before search can begin. Both rest on the principle that the individual — whether a defendant or a reader — must give permission before their data or their rights are affected.
Smyth’s legal troubles are a case in point. On November 2, 2025, he is alleged to have driven on the High Street (Royal Mile) in Edinburgh at excessive speed, mounted the pavement narrowly missing a pedestrian, collided with a parked car and electric bollards outside the City Chambers, and been more than twice the legal alcohol limit — one report states he had 102 milligrams of alcohol per 100 millilitres of blood, against Scotland’s stricter limit of 50mg. He is also said to have repeatedly got in and out of the vehicle and revved the engine, and to have failed to report the incident to the police “as soon as reasonably practicable.” Critically, he was on bail at the time for separate charges of possessing indecent photographs of children and voyeurism, the latter linked to allegations of a camera hidden in Scottish Parliament toilets. He appeared in Dumfries Sheriff Court on October 22, 2025, regarding those charges, where no plea was entered and the case was committed for further examination. Bail was granted.
The drink-driving allegations led to a court appearance scheduled for June 3, 2026, at Edinburgh Sheriff Court. Smyth did not attend; his solicitor appeared on his behalf. The hearing had already been delayed from an initial date of May 6, 2026. His next appearance is set for July 1, 2026. Under Scottish law, a conviction for drink-driving carries a mandatory 12-month driving ban for a first offence, a fine of up to £5,000, up to six months in prison, a criminal record, and potential loss of employment if driving is essential. Insurance premiums can rise significantly, and some insurers may refuse cover. For very high readings or repeat convictions, a vehicle can be forfeited. Refusing to provide a sample attracts the same penalties. A Drink Drive Rehabilitation Course can reduce the ban by up to 25%, and it is possible to still be over the limit the morning after due to individual metabolism and Scotland’s stricter limits — 50mg per 100ml of blood compared to 80mg in England, Wales and Northern Ireland.
All of this information is accessible to readers who use the search feature — but only after they have given consent. The website cannot serve it up any other way. The prompt that appears when a user clicks the search box is not an obstacle; it is the legal foundation on which the entire search function rests. Without it, the site would be in breach of data protection law. With it, the reader gains the ability to navigate a complex, multi-defendant story that touches on drink-driving, child sexual abuse material, political embezzlement and the accountability of elected officials. That story continues to develop, and the search box will remain the reader’s key to following it — provided they choose to unlock it.
