In a courtroom where the ordinary business of selecting twelve strangers to weigh a man's fate was complicated by the fact that most of Britain had, at some point, seen his face on a screen, Mr Justice Bennathan put an unusual question to the gathered pool of potential jurors. Many of you, he told them, will have heard of Russell Brand. It was less an observation than a warning, for the man standing trial is accused of sexual offences by six women, and the judge wanted to know who among the room had already formed an opinion before a single piece of evidence had been presented. The concern was specific.

Roughly three years ago, a Channel 4 documentary and a lengthy investigation in the Times had aired allegations of sexual misconduct against Brand, claims he has consistently and firmly denied. When Bennathan asked whether anyone recalled watching that programme or reading that article, six people raised their hands, a small but telling reminder of how difficult it has become, in an age of documentaries and digital archives, to find twelve minds entirely untouched by a story once it has aired. From an initial pool, the court narrowed its candidates to twenty, with a final jury to be sworn in on Tuesday before the trial proper begins, a process expected to last around six weeks and to keep jurors occupied, the judge cautioned, potentially until the 11th of December. Those selected were instructed, in no uncertain terms, not to seek out information about Brand online, a quiet acknowledgement that the courtroom now competes with the search bar for control over what a juror believes.

Brand's own journey to this courtroom traces a familiar arc of modern celebrity, from stand-up stages and British television sets, through Hollywood productions such as Forgetting Sarah Marshall, to a present-day life in Florida built largely around podcasting.