The word on the grapevine is that with the World Cup coming up this summer magistrates across the country will have to consider applications for Football Banning Orders. These are draconian Orders that severely restrict the freedom of the individual, and they must be considered with great care and after due legal advice. I have only ever done one of these before now (Chelsea supporters, since you ask) so I hope that one or two come my way. Interesting stuff, a bit out of the ordinary, and a few nice legal arguments.
Bring them on!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
On A Personal Note
I was quietly pleased to see the counter on the sidebar pass a quarter of a million hits today. I don'’t kid myself that it can be spot-on accurate, but it is a guide to the number of times that someone has clicked on to the blog. Even on the assumption that a good proportion of those visitors found us by cyber-accident and promptly shoved off, that still leaves quite a lot of people who found something to interest them. Better still, we have had thousands of comments, and on some topics there has been a serious and enlightening debate. I have moderated the comments with a light hand, excising only the very abusive and the hopelessly irrelevant. We have attracted a bit of press comment (some of which raised a few eyebrows in the system, but no matter) and I had to decline an interview with BBC radio because policy forbade them from preserving my anonymity, without which it could be hard to speak my mind.
Some of the things I have written about have forced me to examine what I am doing as a magistrate, and perhaps the greatest revelation is the gulf between public expectation and the reality of what we can do in the courts' system. At the top end, where wigs and robes symbolize the law'’s majesty, dangerous, and sometimes not so dangerous, criminals are locked away for a long time, and thus incapacitated from further crime. In some hundreds of cases it will not be safe to release the offenders until old age has reduced them to a condition in which they present no threat to the populace. But that'’s only a couple of percent of criminals at most. In every other case sentences are served and offenders get back to their lives.
As I have said elsewhere deterrence requires a degree of rationality from him who is to be deterred, and that is sadly absent in so many cases. For most of the predominantly young cohorts of offenders who troop through my court the dominating influences on them are peer pressure and the surrounding social milieu, coupled with what may well have been an unstable and unstructured childhood and adolescence. Half an hour a week with an overworked probation officer is a lot less of an influence than the pressure to conform with the lads, or the dubious moral framework of the telly and of pop culture.
For the middle class motorist deterrence usually works. The Mr. Toad who has nine points is likely to be less cavalier with his right foot than previously. The druggy who has to steal ten pounds'’ worth of stuff to have a pound to give to his dealer is immune to that kind of logic.
Anyway, thanks for clicking on, and special thanks for the comments and the emails. It really does encourage me as I slave over a lonely keyboard. Mind you, if there was ever anything good on telly, this blog probably wouldn'’t exist!
Some of the things I have written about have forced me to examine what I am doing as a magistrate, and perhaps the greatest revelation is the gulf between public expectation and the reality of what we can do in the courts' system. At the top end, where wigs and robes symbolize the law'’s majesty, dangerous, and sometimes not so dangerous, criminals are locked away for a long time, and thus incapacitated from further crime. In some hundreds of cases it will not be safe to release the offenders until old age has reduced them to a condition in which they present no threat to the populace. But that'’s only a couple of percent of criminals at most. In every other case sentences are served and offenders get back to their lives.
As I have said elsewhere deterrence requires a degree of rationality from him who is to be deterred, and that is sadly absent in so many cases. For most of the predominantly young cohorts of offenders who troop through my court the dominating influences on them are peer pressure and the surrounding social milieu, coupled with what may well have been an unstable and unstructured childhood and adolescence. Half an hour a week with an overworked probation officer is a lot less of an influence than the pressure to conform with the lads, or the dubious moral framework of the telly and of pop culture.
For the middle class motorist deterrence usually works. The Mr. Toad who has nine points is likely to be less cavalier with his right foot than previously. The druggy who has to steal ten pounds'’ worth of stuff to have a pound to give to his dealer is immune to that kind of logic.
Anyway, thanks for clicking on, and special thanks for the comments and the emails. It really does encourage me as I slave over a lonely keyboard. Mind you, if there was ever anything good on telly, this blog probably wouldn'’t exist!
Monday, March 27, 2006
Sad Case
This is the BBC report on a child who is clearly seriously troubled. The press will make a lot of this story and she is likely to receive scant sympathy, but a girl who has been offending since her age reached double figures must have a lot of issues to address. The court seems to have done things by the book (although my knowledge of the Youth Court is not great) but simple punishment will be of limited usefulness, and a sophisticated and expensive multi-agency approach is going to be needed to have even the slightest chance of sorting out the damage that she has already suffered. That kind of work is unglamorous and ill-appreciated by the public. The punishment freaks will be calling for her to be treated like an adult. But she is in law and in fact a child, and that is how we must deal with her.
Freeloaders
A report in today's Times tells us that the BBC paid £23,000 for a Christmas party at an expensive restaurant, the guests being among the best-paid people in the land.
If Terry Wogan or Jeremy Vine or Clive Anderson or Sarah Kennedy can spare the time, I would like them to sit in a courtroom that is dealing with TV licence cases. I would be happy to make the arrangements. About 95% of those who appear are women, and about 95% of those are on State benefit. The BBC dinner reportedly cost £238 per head, which for the average defendant I see represents a couple of weeks' income. Many of them have overwhelming money worries, and through one of society's inbuilt unfairnesses those who are asked to be the best money managers are those with the fewest social and educational resources to do it. And some of their money is being used to buy £200-plus dinners for millionaires.
Buy your own dinners, lads. You know you can afford it. And it might save you from finding a nasty taste in your mouth afterwards.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Busy, Busy, Busy
This week’s sitting was a really busy day in the remand court. Business in other courtrooms had overrun, so we were left to get through the work without the assistance of other benches. We had a heavy list - simple remands and committals can be dealt with in a few minutes, and we heard no opposed bail applications (which was just as well, as these can be very time-consuming) but we were nevertheless under pressure. In-custody cases took priority, as they must do, but several matters required us to spend some time on them. There were simple sentences, mostly for drink driving, but two more complex ones, one of them right on a knife-edge between prison and a top-end community penalty. The defendant was a woman with just about every problem you can imagine: drugs, alcohol, housing, employment, and a violent and abusive relationship. The offence that she had committed is one that is commonly sent up to the Crown Court, so we had to balance case law against the Probation report and the mitigation from her first-class solicitor. So, list or no list, we took the time to consider the reports and legal submissions very carefully, before - just - deciding on a suspended prison sentence. Kleenex time again for the usher.
Case followed case, about fifty people in all, facing about eighty separate offences. We nearly got it finished, but even without the staff work-to-rule we could not have done them all, as there were a handful of pre-sentence reports that would have taken at least twenty minutes each and possibly more, so just after 4.30 we had to call it a day and authorize the clerk to bail off all those we hadn’t dealt with. Frustrating for us, frustrating for the defendants and their lawyers, but there was nothing else we could have done. Ironically, in the same courtroom seven days earlier we were on our way home at 2.55 p.m., the list done and dusted.
Case followed case, about fifty people in all, facing about eighty separate offences. We nearly got it finished, but even without the staff work-to-rule we could not have done them all, as there were a handful of pre-sentence reports that would have taken at least twenty minutes each and possibly more, so just after 4.30 we had to call it a day and authorize the clerk to bail off all those we hadn’t dealt with. Frustrating for us, frustrating for the defendants and their lawyers, but there was nothing else we could have done. Ironically, in the same courtroom seven days earlier we were on our way home at 2.55 p.m., the list done and dusted.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Sentencing Poll Part 2
Thanks very much to everyone who voted in the poll - at nearly 600 replies that's a decent sample, albeit a sample of blog readers. The percentages remained remarkably consistent from the start, with about two-thirds of people plumping for the sentence that we actually passed. About a quarter wanted supervision without the big stick of suspended prison, but the common theme was the need for treatment, coupled with a greater or lesser emphasis on punishment.
Points:- I was surprised at the lack of enthusiasm for unpaid work (although that may be my fault for the way I presented the original post) because benches often consider that to be the next step down the ladder of punishment from a prison sentence. The handful who went for a conditional discharge would very likely have been criticised for under-sentencing and the clerk would have had a duty to point out case law and sentencing practice when the bench checked its sentence for legality.
My main point is that I think this is one of the rare instances where the informed public pitches its sentence below that of some practising magistrates. I am working on pure hunch here, but I suspect that quite a few benches, possibly as many as a quarter, would, while appreciating the man's problems, feel obliged to sentence the offence and not the offender and send the man directly inside. There is a perfectly valid argument that the public expect to see anyone in this position imprisoned, and that it would be a proper deterrent. For myself, I fall on the rehabilitation side of the fence, but that doesn't mean that I am right, nor that my more punitive colleagues are wrong. Making a judgement is what we are there to do, after all.
Points:- I was surprised at the lack of enthusiasm for unpaid work (although that may be my fault for the way I presented the original post) because benches often consider that to be the next step down the ladder of punishment from a prison sentence. The handful who went for a conditional discharge would very likely have been criticised for under-sentencing and the clerk would have had a duty to point out case law and sentencing practice when the bench checked its sentence for legality.
My main point is that I think this is one of the rare instances where the informed public pitches its sentence below that of some practising magistrates. I am working on pure hunch here, but I suspect that quite a few benches, possibly as many as a quarter, would, while appreciating the man's problems, feel obliged to sentence the offence and not the offender and send the man directly inside. There is a perfectly valid argument that the public expect to see anyone in this position imprisoned, and that it would be a proper deterrent. For myself, I fall on the rehabilitation side of the fence, but that doesn't mean that I am right, nor that my more punitive colleagues are wrong. Making a judgement is what we are there to do, after all.
All -Time Great Legal Jokes No. 77
WARNING: This joke contains profanity which some may find offensive. For that reason you are advised not to read it before the 9 p.m. watershed.
"Thompson", said the Judge, resplendent in wig gown and bands, as he looked over his half-moon spectacles at the man in the dock. "This is one of the most serious matters that I have dealt with in recent years, and the jury were in my view quite right to convict you. You have shown no sign of remorse. You will go to prison for nine years. Take him down, officers".
The judge was picking up his notes, when the newly sentenced Thompson wrestled himself free from the dock officers to face the bench. "You old c*nt" he shouted before turning to walk down the stairs.
"Officers" ordered the judge. "Let him be brought back up". Placing his notes back on the bench, he fixed his stare on the man in the dock. "Now listen to me, Thompson" he said. "In about fifteen minutes I shall leave the court. I shall drive in my Volvo motor car to my house in Richmond. When I arrive there I shall join my wife in the garden for tea. I shall potter in the greenhouse while she prepares dinner, and we shall each have a glass of decent sherry before we sit down to eat. After dinner we shall watch the television together, and at about ten o'clock I shall have a good glass of malt whisky, after which I shall retire to bed with my wife".
He paused, and took off his spectacles. He leant forward, "You, on the other hand, will be handcuffed and taken from here in a Ford Transit motor vehicle to Brixton prison. There you will be placed into a cell with one or two total strangers. You will be given a plastic receptacle into which you may, if you choose, urinate or defaecate. This will be your lifestyle for some years to come.
And you think that I am a c*nt? What does that make you?"
"Thompson", said the Judge, resplendent in wig gown and bands, as he looked over his half-moon spectacles at the man in the dock. "This is one of the most serious matters that I have dealt with in recent years, and the jury were in my view quite right to convict you. You have shown no sign of remorse. You will go to prison for nine years. Take him down, officers".
The judge was picking up his notes, when the newly sentenced Thompson wrestled himself free from the dock officers to face the bench. "You old c*nt" he shouted before turning to walk down the stairs.
"Officers" ordered the judge. "Let him be brought back up". Placing his notes back on the bench, he fixed his stare on the man in the dock. "Now listen to me, Thompson" he said. "In about fifteen minutes I shall leave the court. I shall drive in my Volvo motor car to my house in Richmond. When I arrive there I shall join my wife in the garden for tea. I shall potter in the greenhouse while she prepares dinner, and we shall each have a glass of decent sherry before we sit down to eat. After dinner we shall watch the television together, and at about ten o'clock I shall have a good glass of malt whisky, after which I shall retire to bed with my wife".
He paused, and took off his spectacles. He leant forward, "You, on the other hand, will be handcuffed and taken from here in a Ford Transit motor vehicle to Brixton prison. There you will be placed into a cell with one or two total strangers. You will be given a plastic receptacle into which you may, if you choose, urinate or defaecate. This will be your lifestyle for some years to come.
And you think that I am a c*nt? What does that make you?"
The Law West of Chancery Lane
We have had a bit of fun with Judge Roy Bean whom I discovered to be a real historical figure. His dealings with the unruly Texans of the late nineteenth century were, shall we say, robust as well as occasionally venal.
But there's a Judge Bean sitting today on the High Court bench - to be exact, although sadly, his first name is David.
He has a hard act to follow.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Another Master Criminal
Lee decided to burgle one of the big offices near the courthouse. He went in through the wall of what turned out to be a storeroom, in which there was nothing of interest to even the most desperate burglar.
He decided to head downwards by prising up the floorboards, and, he hoped, dropping into the floor below where he expected to find some nice computers or other saleable valuables. Unfortunately the floor proved tougher than he had expected, and in his struggle to make a nice hole he dropped his mobile phone and his driving licence into the void, beyond all hope of retrieval. Discouraged, he left by the way he had come in.
Eager not to waste the whole evening he next broke into a local travel agency where a couple of flat-screen televisions caught his eye. He removed them, left one in a safe place in a dark alley and set off to take the other one home. On his bike. In full view of the Council's high-definition CCTV cameras. Unsurprisingly the police turned up and he was arrested, but only after dropping and smashing his prize in his shock at seeing blue lights approaching.
We didn't get to deal with him, as he was awaiting sentence at another court for another bungled burglary, so we remitted his case there.
As he trudged down the painted steel stairs to the cells, I wondered when he would realise that he was not cut out for a life of crime.
He decided to head downwards by prising up the floorboards, and, he hoped, dropping into the floor below where he expected to find some nice computers or other saleable valuables. Unfortunately the floor proved tougher than he had expected, and in his struggle to make a nice hole he dropped his mobile phone and his driving licence into the void, beyond all hope of retrieval. Discouraged, he left by the way he had come in.
Eager not to waste the whole evening he next broke into a local travel agency where a couple of flat-screen televisions caught his eye. He removed them, left one in a safe place in a dark alley and set off to take the other one home. On his bike. In full view of the Council's high-definition CCTV cameras. Unsurprisingly the police turned up and he was arrested, but only after dropping and smashing his prize in his shock at seeing blue lights approaching.
We didn't get to deal with him, as he was awaiting sentence at another court for another bungled burglary, so we remitted his case there.
As he trudged down the painted steel stairs to the cells, I wondered when he would realise that he was not cut out for a life of crime.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Bloody Cheek
A Google search for 'Dodgy Magistrates" lists me at no. 7 on the search. How dare they!
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