We're in a Bad Place

It's been a few days since I was last tempted to publish because to be frank there's so much to digest and reflect upon. There's no doubt in my mind we're in a bad place and everywhere you look it's utterly depressing for the cause of rehabilitation and common sense. Take for instance the continuing Monday night BBC2 series 'Parole' where amongst other issues, probation are conspicuously 'missing in action' or simply airbrushed out of the process - and what a process! I thought this comment put things rather well:- 

The Parole Board programme is more black comedy than fly-on-the-wall, positively Kafkaesque. The parole chair in the HMP Stocken case tells the applicant, who's already been in prison for 14 years (tariff), that he needs further testing in closed condition! In days gone by such a prisoner would have been in open conditions probably at the 12-year point.

I got no sense of an independent parole board in action in the programme - rather they come across as mere well-rewarded algorithms, rather than independents interested in truly balancing the risks. Not much mention either on what the prison system has provided by way of rehabilitation, above and beyond incarceration. You could run a better parole system by using real algorithms - and cutting out all the sanctimony, thus saving a few quid (21 million, on 2022 figures) on expenses for a useless quango.

Then there's the issue of probation senior management taking absolutely no responsibility for things and neatly alluded to in this comment:-  

I note that following criticism of MI5 in the report into the Manchester bombing, the Director General accepted responsibility on behalf of the agency for failing to protect the public! No individual spies were thrown under the bus and blame was accepted by senior managers, as it should be. Perhaps the same principles might apply in probation in the future. Then again, perhaps not.

And then we come on to politicians entering the fray with a general election in mind and votes to be garnered by stoking fears and concerns amongst the public, something well summarised by this contribution:-   

*****
It's a veritable Who's Who of characters, including royalty! who are clamouring to keep the killer in jail beyond the 13 years that would be the half-way point of his determinate sentence. I think you could bet your house on Raab referring this case to the 'independent' Parole Board. Sorry to have to use inverted commas, but it reflects my low confidence in the Board's ability to be guided by reason rather than political expediency. 

The legislation under which this can happen was originally intended only to apply to terrorists, but give the arm of retribution an inch and it takes a mile. The only argument deployable to keep him in prison is protection of the public and whilst this may be an easier argument to make regarding terrorists, it's somewhat weaker in domestic violence cases. 

It's perfectly understandable that relatives of murder victims never want the perpetrator released. However, no evidence has been cited to suggest he's a risk to the victim's relatives or the public. This is all about retribution: keep him in jail for another 13 years. 

The case could well open the floodgates to lots more applications to politicians to do the 'right thing'. We'll end up with more politicians kowtowing to popular outrage, whilst doing their reputations no harm. This campaign is a populist and cynical manipulation of criminal justice. In effect, it says no early release for killers and murderers. In fact, we are halfway down this road anyway, with Raab's veto on moving murderers to open prison conditions. We are going backwards.

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The case referred to above is discussed in this article from the Guardian on 24th February:-

A man who killed his wife with a hammer is set to be released. With probation in tatters, who will protect us?

Joanna Simpson’s family are right to be worried – too many violent offenders slip through the cracks of a service that is there to keep us safe. Long before he killed her, Joanna Simpson’s husband had secretly dug what would become her grave.

The couple were separated and in the final throes of finalising their divorce when Robert Brown, a British Airways pilot, battered his wife to death with a hammer as their two young children cowered in a nearby room. Joanna, who had become frightened of her controlling husband, was only days away from what should have been the last court hearing to end their marriage. Brown buried her in a secluded corner of Windsor Great Park in a makeshift coffin he had prepared earlier, and then the following day called the police.

In court, he didn’t deny killing her, but claimed that he had temporarily “just lost it”. The defence maintained that he had suffered from an “adjustment disorder” brought on by the stress of the divorce, which had made him lose control but disappeared again shortly afterwards. There were gasps in the courtroom when the jury acquitted him of murder; the judge, observing that Brown had clearly “intended to kill”, and had prepared thoroughly beforehand, sentenced him to 26 years for manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility. But, having served nearly half his sentence, Brown will be automatically eligible for release on licence later this year – unless Joanna’s family succeed in the campaign they’re launching shortly to stop that happening.

Suella Braverman’s announcement this week that police will have to treat domestic violence as a national threat, like terrorism, is a welcome move from the home secretary after a spate of disturbing, high-profile cases. But it also shines an awkward spotlight on what happens long after the police, courts and prison service have supposedly done their job.

Hetti Barkworth-Nanton, a friend of Joanna’s family and chair of trustees at the domestic violence charity Refuge, has pointed out that the organisation regularly hears from survivors “who don’t get told when perpetrators are coming out of prison, don’t get told when they get bail” and live in fear of their ex being released. Under Braverman’s reforms, domestic abusers should now be watched more closely; a pilot scheme could see offenders electronically tagged, banned from going near the victim’s home, or made to attend behaviour change programmes. People convicted of controlling or coercive behaviour will be subject to joint police and probation supervision on their release, as physically violent offenders would be. But as Nicole Jacobs, the domestic abuse commissioner for England and Wales, has said, it will work only if there’s the money to actually make it happen.

Prisoners freed early on licence are subject to conditions for the rest of what would otherwise have been their sentence, and can be recalled to prison if those conditions are broken; or they can be in theory, at least. In January, an inquiry revealed catastrophic failings in the case of Zara Aleena, a young law graduate from London murdered as she walked home from a night out by a man who had been released on licence only nine days earlier.

Jordan McSweeney had a history of violence towards women, had skipped probation appointments after his release, and had been recalled to prison two days before the attack. But McSweeney, wrongly graded “medium risk” instead of high, remained at large – and free to target at least five women before eventually settling on Zara. In his report, chief inspector of probation Justin Russell noted that the probation staff involved were shouldering unmanageable workloads because of unfilled vacancies, “something we have increasingly seen” in inspections of other local services.

A week earlier, the watchdog had identified failings in the case of Damien Bendall, a former cage fighter with convictions for violence who murdered his pregnant partner and three children while supposedly under supervision by the probation service. His case, this time wrongly graded low risk, was one of 10 being juggled by a probation officer who had yet to finish basic training.

In its annual report last year, Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Probation found management of high-risk cases was, thankfully, improving, but the opposite was true for medium-risk ones, which make up the lion’s share of cases – including “tens of thousands of domestic abuse perpetrators” – and account for over half of homicides committed by people on probation. It’s the unglamorous, invisible and often underfunded cog in the justice machine. But without probation, everything else falls apart.

A recent change in the law gave justice secretaries the power to override automatic early release in cases where prisoners are still felt to pose a very high risk of harm, and make them serve the full sentence. But whether those powers are used or not, the vast majority of violent offenders will still be free one day. Society has an obligation to prepare for that moment diligently, giving victims and the wider public the confidence to live with a potentially terrifying prospect.

It’s always a leap of faith when a cell door is unlocked, and we’re all expected just to trust that overstretched prisons have still managed to achieve some kind of rehabilitation, or at least that if there’s any danger of a relapse someone will quickly step in. But without a properly functioning probation service, that leap of faith becomes just too big to make, and confidence in the rest of the system collapses. It shouldn’t be left to frightened individual families, fighting their own lonely battles, to make that point.

Gaby Hinsliff is a Guardian columnist

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The Guardian published two letters in response yesterday:-

The probation service is in a desperate state

Experienced staff are leaving because of impossible workloads, writes Anne King. Plus a letter from Ellie Dwight.

Gaby Hinsliff’s article was correct to question how well the probation service is functioning (A man who killed his wife with a hammer is set to be released. With probation in tatters, who will protect us?, 24 February). Since starting my training as a probation officer in 1979, I have never seen the service so overworked and demoralised.

The disastrous “transforming rehabilitation” reorganisation in 2014 wrecked what had been a locally based and effective service, and reunification last year will not quickly undo the damage done over the preceding eight years, coupled as it has been with consistent underfunding.

In response to two reports by HM Inspectorate of Probation (HMIP), the government repeats statements on funding and recruitment. Neither is of use unless there are steps taken to halt the haemorrhaging of experienced staff, who are desperately needed to mentor new entrants and supervise the most dangerous offenders.

A justifiable fear among staff is that, in the event of such appalling crimes as those perpetrated by Jordan McSweeney and Damien Bendall, they can face disciplinary action. This is regardless of the impossible workloads they are struggling with, as referred to repeatedly by the HMIP reports. It is particularly invidious that it is always frontline staff who face these proceedings, while those responsible higher up the organisation and in government (Chris Grayling in particular) escape the scrutiny they deserve.

One positive step to reassure those staff desperately trying to do their best is a commitment from the probation service that no staff will be disciplined in cases where their workload is above the nationally recognised maximum. It is sobering to think that, according to a recent BBC article, this would cover 10 of the 12 probation regions in England and Wales.

Anne King
Lynton, Devon

I worked as a probation officer for more than 30 years before Covid brought my career to an abrupt end, aged 72. When I started, the probation “motto” was “advise, assist and befriend”. The service was far from efficiently run, but the emphasis was on rehabilitation and I believe what we did made a difference.

That all ended with Chris Grayling’s insane project of privatising something that should never have been for-profit. It is now all too easy to demonise the offenders – many if not most of whom have had horrific and damaging childhood experiences. As for risk assessments, it is all too easy to leap on these as needing to be watertight, when how can they be, given the complexity of human beings and the impossible workloads of probation staff?

Ellie Dwight
Stafford