Justice at Last

How supremely ironic that the first episode of the long-anticipated BBC1 probation drama 'Public Enemies' was bounced off the tv schedules by a real-life murder case. It was always likely that the jury returning guilty verdicts in the Stephen Lawrence case would be big news, and so it proved with the last-minute screening of the moving BBC 1 'Panorama' special focussed on Stephens mother Doreen. The Criminal Justice System, Probation included, is often accused of not taking into account the effect of crime upon victims and this programme gives us all some valuable insight.

As the judge considers his sentencing remarks overnight, discussion has already begun regarding the likely outcome. Although both convicted men are now in their 30's, they will have to be dealt with as if they were minors, and initially 'Detained at Her Majesty's Pleasure'. This strikes me as pretty much academic as such a sentence automatically becomes a Life Sentence on attaining the age of majority. The key bit is the length of the tariff, or period of imprisonment that must be served before consideration for release by the Parole Board. The situation has changed significantly over the 18 years since the murder took place, with the Criminal Justice Act 2003 introducing much higher tariffs in relation to certain types of aggravated offences. 

Although there is bound to be concern in some quarters that these two men will still have cheated justice to some extent when their tariffs are announced, it must be remembered that release will only eventually come about when the Parole Board are convinced that it is safe to do so. At this very moment, somewhere in London, two probation officers will already be engaged in the process of making preparations for that process in the form of Post Life Sentence Reports. Over the coming years they will have the task of getting to know as much as possible about these two men in order to make well-informed judgements that will inform the process, and it's not easy.

Understandably perhaps, there is a view in certain quarters that probation officers are quite naive and gullible. All that is required is to 'tell them what they want to hear' and release becomes relatively straightforward. Well, I must disabuse them. It's not for nothing that this blog refers to the 'mysteries and magic' that is 'probation.' Despite the claims for OASys, making assessments is not and never can be a science in my view, but rather will remain an imprecise art. In view of this, experience tells me that one of the most significant factors is the length of time a case can remain with the same officer. In my career, in sentence planning meetings, I have often been the only 'expert' in the room due purely to having supervised the case from the beginning and remembered key facts, noticed differing versions in the prisoners story and subtle changes in their attitude, demeanor and body language.

Of course what I'm describing is a situation where the prisoner wishes to make progress on an indeterminate sentence. In a sense it's much easier to make a judgement about risk where the prisoner makes it plain that they have no intention of changing - they simply don't get released. So the key question is, as put to me regularly by a long-term denying life sentence prisoner, 'if you don't believe me, how will you know when I'm telling the truth?' In short a very good question, to which I routinely gave the somewhat lame reply 'I just will!' 

It's sad I know, but over the Christmas and New Year break I found myself watching an old edition of a game show called 'Goldenballs' on an obscure cable tv channel. For those unfamiliar with the format, contestants compete for potentially very large sums of money by playing a game of chance, but spiced up by the ability to either rob their opponent or share the winnings with them. They basically have to convince their opposite number that they are telling the truth in wishing to share the loot and not lying in order to steal the lot. I have to say an unnerving programme for a probation officer, with some very uncomfortable professional similarities.