When in 1924 England's Lord Chief Justice Hewart said justice should not only be done, but should "manifestly and undoubtedly" be seen to be done, he probably had no inkling of television.

He certainly had no suspicion of a thing called Twitter.

In Scots law, the principle of open justice has been reaffirmed for centuries. Broadly - sometimes very broadly - the belief has been that if courts sit in public their proceedings must be open to scrutiny and reporting by the press and by broadcasters. Granting the risk of contempt and prejudicial comment, no one would have it otherwise.

We live, though, in an age of information-on-demand, an era in which the possibilities of technology create their imperatives. If justice must be "seen to be done", we say, let us see it. Let us see it - for why not? - live, as it happens. In this argument, those who say the law must not be turned into an entertainment are on shaky ground, historically.

Lady Dorrian, Senator of the College of Justice, has applied some subtlety to the issues arising from modern attitudes. Lord Gill, Lord President, has been no less astute in accepting that in some circumstances court proceedings should be broadcast live, or that Twitter should be allowed to journalists who accept registration under the Contempt of Court Act.

No newspaper could object to these developments. No serious newspaper or broadcaster would assert, we hope, that what happens in a court of law should ever be fair game for a bit of fun. Justice needs always to be a serious matter. "First instance" broadcast is reasonable; the protection of children, the victims of sex crimes, and any vulnerable witness is - or ought to be - common sense.

But humanity is complex and journalism, sometimes, is not what it was. A crash course in contempt might be necessary if live accounts of court proceedings are to be allowed. The media might have to grasp that entertainment is only one part of the function of news. And judges will have to be ready for the inevitable complaints when a tweet turns up in a headline.

The Lord President's ready acceptance of Lady Dorrian's investigations might bring a better reward. Too few people know why a Scottish court proceeds as it does. For most of us, the rules of evidence are a mystery. TV's beady eye - or the prose of an alert court journalist - are better calculated to capture Lord Chief Justice Hewart's hopes than any rhetoric.

Open the doors; let them in; remind them that justice is done in their name; and show why it is not wise to tweet any jeer that comes to your mind. For Scots law, that would not count as bad law-making.

Twitter, like TV, has a lowest common denominator problem. The administration of justice remains, however, a solemn business. To show people how the law is being administered, daily, in their name is a task both journalists and jurists can share.